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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

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Honey Girl. Chapter Four.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Five. Chapter Six. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Chapter Nine. Chapter Ten. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky deal with the fallout of Cora's reveal. What's that saying? If you love something, let it go...

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend! Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing. angst. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - i can only apologise that this chapter took a little while!! my life is at a super weird place rn, so i'm just trying to find the time when i can. words cannot describe how incredible all of your support is for Honey Girl. the fact you all reblog and comment and send me asks means the world to me. love you all so much.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You can't breathe.

It's like all of the oxygen has been sucked out of the air, leaving it dry, brittle, sterile. Your lungs are burning, scratched like sandpaper. The backyard is spinning, like teenagers at a roller rink - all flashing lights and endless rotations.

You haven't taken your eyes off of Bucky, and he hasn't taken his eyes off of you. If you were thinking more logically, you'd probably realise that you've been staring at each other for too long, and it's starting to look a little suspicious. You don't care.

Your ears are ringing. It's like there's been an explosion, and you're scattered amongst the debris. Smoke, flames, rubble. A catastrophic detonation in your parents backyard.

A gentle hand on your shoulder snaps you back to reality. The music is still playing, everyone around the table is still conversing, the house still stands. No explosion here.

"Sweetheart?"

It's your Mom, clearly sensing your distress. She probably thinks you're upset with her, for telling Cora. You are, but that's not what's causing the pain in your chest.

"Come inside with me, baby girl. Let's get away from the noise for a second."

She grabs your hand and pulls you out of your chair, still none the wiser to the magnetism preventing you from breaking your gaze that's locked on Bucky's. She practically drags you inside, the cool air of the kitchen waking you up.

"Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry. Cora overheard the conversation we had earlier. I thought it was good news, so I didn't think to ask her to keep it private."

She looks like she's being eaten alive by guilt. Your bottom lip quivers, your eyes well up, and before you know it, there are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey. What's the matter?"

You sit down on the tiled floor, back pressed against the cabinets. Curling your knees to your chest, you try to stifle your sobs.

"Everything's such a mess, Mama."

She drops to the ground, gathering you in her arms. She holds you as tight as she can, rubbing soothing circles into your back and whispering comforting words in your ear. Eventually, she pulls back to look at you.

"What's the matter, baby? I thought Stella's call was a good thing - that you'd be excited to go back to California."

You take a shaky breath before replying.

"It's just... I think - I don't, it's... it's so complicated."

She traces her fingers over your cheeks, your eyebrows, your nose. She dances her fingertips over your face, as if she's committing it to her mind forever. It brings back warm and cosy childhood memories of her doing the same thing to help you sleep. The two of you would snuggle up against all of your pillows in bed, tucked up and safe. She'd lie with you until she was sure you were dreaming, before kissing you on the forehead and sneaking out.

"Talk to me. We can figure it out. We always do."

"It's not that simple. I just... there's a lot going on, I guess. I thought it'd be an easy decision, but it isn't, and it's all I can think about, and it's eating me up because I'm so scared I'm gonna do the wrong thing -"

You cut yourself off with a sob, resting your head on your knees.

"I knew there was something bothering you, sweetheart. Why didn't you come and talk to us? Even if we can't fix it, we can listen."

"I thought I could handle it. I thought I could figure it out on my own."

"You don't ever have to carry stress like this on your own, baby girl. Ever. You hear me?"

You nod and lean into her, letting her rock you in her arms on the kitchen floor.

"I'm sorry again, about Cora. She means well, you know she does."

"I know. Doesn't feel like it sometimes, but I know."

A pause.

"Okay, sweetheart. What are we going to do now? Whatever you decide, we'll support you."

"Your Mom's right," your Dad says from the doorway. "Whatever you choose, we'll be right alongside you. No matter what."

He strides over to join the two of you on the floor, sandwiching you between him and your Mom.

"If you need help packing up and moving, we're here. If you need us to create an elaborate lie to tell Stella, we're here. Either way, you've got us."

You smile at him gently, leaning to rest your head on his shoulder. Regardless of what happens, you have two parents that love you more than anything in the world. That has to count for something.

"You wanna rejoin us outside, or are you too tired? No one will blame you if you go home."

"I think I'll go home," you murmur. "I don't wanna face any more questions for today."

"Bucky's just gone too. Said something about an early morning tomorrow."

You inhale shakily at the mention of his name. You know you'll have to face him sooner or later.

Your Dad stands and grabs your hands to help you to your feet, before doing the same to your Mom. They both hug you tightly before walking you out to the front door.

"Promise me you'll call if you need anything. Anything."

"I promise, Mama. Don't worry about me. I'll be okay."

"Do you want one of us to walk you home?"

"No, it's okay. I think I need the air."

"Love you, baby girl."

"Love you too. Both of you."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're halfway home when you decide to turn around. You need to talk to Bucky.

It doesn't take you long to figure out where he is. You can feel in your chest that he's close by, that he hasn't strayed far. He hasn't gone home, though. The Universe is pulling you in the opposite direction.

The beach.

You spin on your heel and start walking down the road, picking up pace as you go. You can feel rain in the air, threatening to spill from the clouds at any given moment. Before you know it, you're running, sprinting along the sidewalk in the direction of your soulmate.

You get to the small boardwalk and look out over the sand. The sky is grey as concrete, cold and unforgiving. You spot a figure in a worn brown leather jacket by the shore, and you know instantly. It's him.

You march onto the beach with your shoes still on, wrapping your arms around yourself to act as a shield from the wind. You left your jacket at your parent's house, too eager to get out of there in a hurry. The rain is suspended in the air, never quite reaching the ground. You know it's only a matter of time before the heavens open.

"Bucky!" you yell, practically bounding across the sand. "Buck!"

He doesn't turn because he hears your voice. He turns because he suddenly feels like he can breathe, which he hasn't been able to do for the last hour. He knew you were there before you shouted his name.

"Bucky, please!"

He spins on his heel and stops walking, waiting for you to catch up with him. You're sprinting, panting as you reach him. The ocean waves crash against the shore, dangerously close to his boots.

"Buck, just let me explain," you choke out, trying to catch your breath.

You finally stop running and look at him. He looks broken. His hair looks like he's pulled his fingers through it repeatedly, tear tracks staining his cheeks, lips bitten red. You've never seen him upset like this. It's the worst thing you've ever witnessed.

"There's nothing to explain," he begins calmly, trying to keep a lid on his feelings.

"There is, Buck. There is. I... Cora overheard me confiding in my Mom, telling her about a call I'd gotten, from a classmate at culinary school. It was just an offer - I haven't accepted anything! I never meant for you to find out like this, I swear. It's all just... it's all so fucked up."

He looks at you in disbelief.

"No, you know what's fucked up?" he asks, raising his voice. "Finding out that my soulmate is moving across the country from some alcoholic suburban mom at a dinner party!"

You've never heard him yell before. You don't like it at all. You gather yourself before replying calmly, determined to keep you emotions under wraps.

"I've been trying to find a way to talk to you about it, but I didn't know where to start. How do I even begin to explain any of this?"

"Maybe, I don't know - 'hey, Buck, I got a call and I'm thinking of moving thousands of miles away for my dream job,' would be a good place to start?"

"It's more complicated than that. I was trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?"

"From blowing your life up for me!"

You stare at each other for a minute, both of you unblinking.

"What are you talking about?" he croaks out.

"You'd drop everything for me, Bucky, and I can't let you do that. You've worked too damn hard to let it all go."

He's dumbfounded, for a moment. Not because he doesn't understand. No. He's realising that you're right.

"I knew that if I told you straight away, you'd have persuaded me to let you come with, and I would have said yes. And then you'd regret it, and you'd resent me, and we'd be over before we've even begun."

When he doesn't say anything, you continue.

"The thing is, Buck, the selfish part of me would have happily invited you along. Me and you, in California, running a bakery? That sounds like a fucking dream. But I have to listen to the other side of me, the selfless part. And that part is telling me that you have worked too damn hard for too damn long just for me to take that all away."

You feel droplets of water on your face, and for a moment, you wonder when you started to cry again. Then, in the deep distance, you hear a crack of thunder. The rain begins to pour, both of you caught in a storm in more ways than one.

"You don't get to make a decision like that for me!" he finally responds, yelling to be heard over the downpour. "We're supposed to talk about these things! To figure them out together! That's what soulmates are - we're a team!"

"I can't think rationally around you, Bucky! It's like all logic goes out the window. I'm just so overwhelmed with-"

You stop yourself before the word comes out, but you both know what you were about to say. He feels it in his ribcage, the surge of emotion from you.

"-with how I feel about you. You're my forever, Buck, and I feel like -" a sob wracks through you, shaking your frame. "-like I've fucked it all up already."

Your tears mix with the rainwater, trailing down your cheeks. You watch as Bucky fights with himself, internally battling his feelings.

"You're not the only one fucking it up," he chokes. "You repeatedly told me we had to take it slow, but I just... couldn't help myself. I've never felt for anyone what I feel for you, and being away from you for even a minute is fucking torture. I moved us too fast, and now look where we are. We've become the equivalent of a married couple in a couple of weeks. No one can handle change that sudden."

"It's not.. none of this is your fault, Buck. I kept something from you, something big. I know it doesn't matter now, but I want you to know how hard it's been to not tell you. It was killing me."

"I felt it," he murmurs shakily, willing himself not to cry. "In my chest. You were so torn up about something, and I just couldn't figure out what it was. I should have pushed you more, but I was worried I'd push you away."

Your lip trembles as you watch him bite his own anxiously.

"I'm so scared, Buck," you whisper. "I feel so lost and so confused and like nothing makes sense."

"Me too," he whispers back, eyes never leaving yours. "I'm fucking terrified. Our worlds have been turned upside down."

"Is it... is it supposed to be this hard? Everyone makes it sound so easy."

"I don't know. Maybe the Universe heard that we were anti-soulmate and decided to be super tough on us. Cosmic karma, or something."

You choke out a laugh through your tears. The rain has plastered your clothes to your body, the salty wind chilling you to the bone. Without thinking, Bucky takes off his jacket and wraps it around you, unable to watch you shiver any longer.

"What now?" you ask quietly. If he wasn't standing so close, he wouldn't have heard it.

"Let's get out of the storm," he suggests, nodding his head towards the path home. "We can talk some more somewhere warmer."

You sniffle and take a deep breath, willing yourself to get it together. Bucky surprises you by linking your hand with his, warm fingers intertwining around yours.

He doesn't let go the whole way home.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky takes you to his house.

You haven't been here since before your Tethering. You walk in the door, and your knees threaten to give way.

It's overwhelming.

Everywhere - everything - smells like Bucky. His scent clings to every fabric, every upholstery, every room. There's pictures scattered across the mantelpiece, his handsome face staring at you wherever you go. The house is warm, cosy, and just so Bucky it makes your heart ache.

You walk over to the fireplace, taking a closer look at the array of frames adorning it. There's one of your parents and Bucky smiling, sat out on his lawn last summer; another of Bucky and his team of mechanics, stood proudly outside his garage. A small black frame catches your eye. You pick it up, and your breath hitches in your chest.

It's a picture of the two of you on the deck of his boat, the day after you found out you were soulmates. The wind is blowing your hair, billowing your shirts, sun beating down on your skin. You're both beaming at the camera, bright and blinding, completely content.

You're holding back tears as you put it back in it's original place.

"My favourite picture," he murmurs from somewhere behind you. "We look happy."

"We were happy," you whisper. Then, quieter, "We will be again."

A pause.

"You want something to drink? Coffee, cocoa? Oh, I have that tea you like, the apple one?"

"You do?"

"Yeah. I, uh, bought some last time I went grocery shopping. In case you stopped by."

"Tea sounds good. Please."

You stay stood in the middle of the living room while Bucky puts the kettle on the stove, worried that your wet clothes will ruin his couch. As if he's read your mind, he pops his head around the door.

"There's a load of fresh clothes folded on top of the dryer. Grab whatever you want, dry off a little."

You wander into the laundry room, sorting through the pile. You find a t shirt with his garage logo on the back in big, white letters.

J.B.B. Motorcycles and Automotives.

The blocky, bold font swirls across the black material. You run your fingers over it, tracing the curves and spikes of the typeface. It's something you've seen him in a million times. You inhale deeply as you slip it over your head, revelling in the way it smells like him. You grab some boxer shorts and slip those on too, glad to finally be warm and dry.

Bucky loses his breath when you walk into the room. He's never seen you in his clothes before, and for good reason. He's about to have a goddamn heart attack.

"Tea is on the coffee table," he chokes out. "I'm gonna change, and then we'll talk, yeah?"

You nod gently, settling into the cushions of his couch and tucking your legs underneath you, mug warming your hands.

When Bucky returns, he's in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that you want to burrow yourself into. He takes his place, careful to put a little distance between you. Far enough that you're not touching, but close enough that you almost are.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I'm not good at this."

"Neither am I," he smiles gently. "It's my first time having a soulmate."

"Mine too," you laugh softly.

It floors you, his ability to always be able to comfort you. It's like a superpower, the way he always knows what to say or do to put you at ease.

"I think we got a little ahead of ourselves," he begins, careful to keep his voice low and deliberate. "I keep forgetting that we have forever. Literally. I was so eager to rush into this with you because I got excited. Don't get me wrong, I'm still ridiculously excited, but I'm realising now that our version of 'slow' wasn't slow at all."

"This whole Tethering thing makes everything so intense. There have been times where I honestly thought I was going to drop dead if you didn't kiss me."

"The feelings mutual," he chuckles.

You lace your fingers with his, never breaking eye contact, before addressing the elephant in the room.

"What am I gonna do about California, Buck?"

Your voice cracks just saying the word.

"Stella needs an answer, and I've upset you, and my parents are clueless, and I just - I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do. Please."

"I can't tell you what to do, honey," he soothes, running his thumb over the back of your hand. "And I'm not upset. I was, in the backyard... but I was mainly just blindsided. I kinda get it, you not telling me. I'm not sure what I'd do in your situation either."

"I just feel like both decisions are wrong. I can't win."

"Hey, hey. Look at me, pretty baby."

Bucky cradles your face in his warm hands, forcing your eyes to meet his ocean blue ones. You have to focus on his words, so you don't get lost in the waves of his irises.

"At the end of the day, it's completely your decision, and no one in the world can change that. But-"

He takes a deep breath, and continues.

"I think that you'll regret it every day for the rest of your life if you don't take the incredible opportunity that's been offered to you."

You take a second to process what he's telling you, your mind running at a thousand miles an hour.

"Are you... you're... are you saying I should take the job?"

"Like I said, it's your decision, but... yes. I'm saying you should take the job."

Your eyes well with tears, and you bite your lip to stop them from escaping. Inhaling carefully, you put your hands on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat under your palms. He's calm. He's sure. He's collected enough for the both of you.

"What about us?" you ask, barely above a whisper.

"Like you said, baby. I'm your forever." Buck leans in, resting his forehead to yours. "We have time."

"All the time in the world."

You connect your lips to Bucky's softly, testing the waters. He kisses you back with so much feeling, tears slip from your lashes without warning. He's crying too, emotion mixing with yours, dousing you both.

You pull away and wrap your arms around him, curling yourself into his chest. He holds you as tightly as he can, knowing this will be the last time for a long time.

"So you'll go."

"I'll go."

"And I'll stay."

"You'll stay."

"And we'll be okay. No matter what, we'll be okay."

You and Bucky fall asleep in each others arms, cherishing the feeling of home one last time.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The happiness is starting to seep through.

You're devastated to be leaving Bucky behind, but you're trying to look on the bright side. Sunny beaches, new people, your dream job. If you think about the positives for long enough, the Bucky sized hole in your chest hurts a little less.

You're packing up your bookshelf when your phone rings, scaring the life out of you.

"Bitch!"

You know who it is instantly.

"Hi, Lacie."

"Where have you been? Why didn't you answer my text from last night?"

"Shit, sorry. I've been packing. What's up?"

"We're going out tonight. Not just us - all the girls. We're throwing you a goodbye party!"

You groan inwardly, massaging your temples with your fingers.

"A party? Lace, I don't need a party."

"Babe, you do. You really do. It'll be fun! I thought you'd be excited!"

You take a deep breath, and remember what you've been telling yourself. Focus on the positives.

"Okay, fine. Where? What time? What should I wear?"

"I knew you'd say yes! Come to my place at like... six? We can get ready together, like old times! And wear something sexy."

She doesn't wait for you to argue, just hangs up the phone. She knows you too well.

You know it'll be good for you, to see your girlfriends - but the thought of all the goodbyes you're about to say breaks your heart a little more.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"Okay, what the fuck is going on with you?"

You're sat cross legged on Lacie's living room floor, sharing makeup that's scattered across the coffee table. You sip your wine for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse. It's no use.

"I don't know."

"Bullshit."

You turn to look at her.

"What?"

"It's bullshit, babe. Something's going on. You've been given your dream job, and you're moping around like you just got broken up with or something. Why aren't you happy?"

There's no malice in her voice, just pure love. She adores you. You adore her. She's the one person with an outsiders perspective on all of this. So, you cut the act.

"I had my Tethering."

Silence.

She's processing.

"What?!"

"Yeah."

"When? Who? Where? How? Oh my God what is happening? Why didn't you say anything? Fuck, I'm gonna cry. I'm so overwhelmed right now, I'm so happy for you! Wait... are we not happy?"

"It's... complicated."

There's a lump in your throat, but a levity in your heart. A weight has been taken off you. Telling someone the truth has made you feel a little lighter.

"Who is it, babe?"

You take a deep breath, and look her in the eyes.

"Bucky."

Her jaw drops.

"Your... your Dad's best friend Bucky?"

"That's the one."

"Oh. My. Fucking. God."

"Yeah."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah."

"This is complicated."

"Yeah."

"Aw, babe."

She pulls you in for a hug, not caring about the makeup you're smearing across her shirt. You cling to her as tightly as you can, savouring your best friends comfort.

"Does anyone else know?"

"No. We decided not to tell my parents for a while."

"Shit. No wonder you've been so sad lately. You're moving across the country, away from the one person you're supposed to be near."

"It's really hard," you whisper, tears threatening to spill.

"I can't even begin to imagine," she murmurs, holding you close. "I wish you'd told me sooner. We could have talked about it."

"I know," you sniffle. "I thought I could handle it on my own, but I really can't."

"You're not on your own, okay? You have Bucky, and you have me. You can always talk to me about this stuff. God knows I talked your ear off about Cameron."

You laugh softly, thinking back to that day that feels both like yesterday and a million years ago.

"Where is he tonight?"

"Out with his boys. It's good for us to spend a few hours apart."

You smile at the happiness that's radiating off her. She's glowing, beaming in all directions.

"Thanks, Lace. I love you. You know that right?"

"Of course I do. I love you too. So much," she leans forward to kiss your cheek. "Now let's have one hell of a last girls night, shall we?"

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You've lost track of exactly where you are.

You know you're downtown somewhere, in one of the bars. This one smells like wood and whiskey, lowlit and smoky. You hit the cocktail bar first, then the one covered in leopard print, then the monochrome pink one. Now, you're here.

The six of you are sat at a booth, high heels tangled and legs intertwined under the table. The wood is sticky with lemon wedges from tequila shots, salt scattered across the surface.

"If you find any hot west coast men, will you send them my way?" Reese asks, nudging you with her shoulder.

"And if you find any hot west coast women, will you send them mine?"

Everyone laughs, the scent of perfume filling the air.

"Rosa, what happened to Aubrey? We liked her!"

"Caught her kissing my ex girlfriend. So now they're both my ex girlfriends."

"Jesus Christ."

"Man, that's rough," Lacie giggles next to you.

The other girls continue to talk about Aubrey's infidelity as Lacie leans to whisper in your ear.

"Have you said goodbye to Bucky yet?"

You nod.

"Yesterday. I stayed the night, we fell asleep together. Said our goodbyes in the morning. It was awful."

"Love you," she whispers, squeezing your hand under the table.

"Love you too," you reply, squeezing back.

"There's a table of super hot guys over there," Maggie observes, tilting her head in their direction. "Maybe we should conveniently dance that way in a little while."

You don't bother to look over, knowing that none of them will compare to your soulmate. The other girls seem interested, though, so you smile along with them.

"Babe," Sam hisses, kicking you under the table. "There's a hot guy at that table, three o'clock, that keeps staring at you."

You glance over, and your heart stutters in your chest.

Bucky.

His blue eyes pierce your soul, even from across the room. For a moment, it's only the two of you, all the noise forgotten.

You're snapped back to reality by Sam.

"Fuck, he's hot. If you don't want him, I do."

"You should talk to him," Lacie suggests quickly. "Why not, right?"

She's practically pushing you out of the booth, high school wrestler style. In another life, you think, she would have made a good football player. All five foot four of her.

You walk past his table, eyes still locked on him, and towards the bathrooms. You know he'll follow you. You walk to the end of the hallway and out of the door, into the fresh night air.

You feel him appear before you see him. You lean your body against the wall, head resting on the cold brick. Bucky stands in front of you, shirt stretched across his shoulders gorgeously.

"Hi."

"Hi, honey baby."

You smile softly at the nickname.

"What are you doing here?"

"I got dragged to a boys night. What are you doing here?"

"I got dragged to a girls night."

He laughs, and all the tension melts from your muscles.

"Thought we said our goodbyes. I didn't think I'd see you again before I left."

"Me too. But you know the Universe. It hates us."

"Cosmic karma," you whisper.

The two of you stand down the alleyway, looking at each other carefully. Neither of you wants to spook the other person. You'd processed your leaving, said your emotional goodbyes. And now he's here, standing in front of you. You don't want to have to do it all again.

"I should probably get back inside, before the girls get the wrong idea."

"Baby, I followed you to the bathroom. They've already got the wrong idea."

You chuckle, kicking at a rock on the ground.

"Yeah. I don't know how I'm gonna explain this."

A smile. A pause.

"I'll let you get back to your friends, then."

You lean up to press a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

"Bye, Buck."

"Bye, pretty girl."

You push off the wall and walk away towards the door. Suddenly, a warm hand wraps around your wrist, yanking you into a solid chest.

Bucky kisses you like a man possessed. There's nothing gentle about it - just pure, unadulterated passion. It's all teeth and tongue and nipping and biting, neither of you willing to be the first to pull away.

He walks you back into the wall, pushing you against the rough brick. You hike a leg up onto his hip as he grabs your thigh to pull you closer, desperate to feel all of you. Your hands are in his hair, around his neck, tangled in his collar, his shirt, his belt loops. Anything you can get your hands on, you grab.

A distant chorus of cheers break you out of your lust fuelled haze. A bachelorette party walks by, one of the women winking at you as they go. You and Bucky take a step away from each other, straightening out your clothes and fixing your hair.

"Promise me you'll call me if you need anything," Bucky murmurs, leaning to rest his forehead on yours.

"I promise," you whisper, almost against his lips. "Goodbye, Bucky."

"Goodbye, honey girl."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The salty ocean wind whips through your hair, sun beating down onto your skin, some upbeat pop song humming from the radio. You keep your eyes glued to the road in front of you, begging yourself not to look back. You know if you do, you'll turn the car around and run straight back into Bucky's arms.

Let the happiness seep through, you remind yourself, gripping the steering wheel.

Let the happiness seep through.

tag list part one -

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somedaylazysomeday · 1 year ago

Text

An Emissary of the (Goblin) King

Your quiet life as a teacher falls apart when a student wishes you away. Eventually, Jareth has to decide what to do with you.

Jareth x fem!reader (no use of 'y/n')

*This was written for a request in which the reader was supposed to be plus-sized. As such, there are a few scattered references to weight and body shape.

**Not related to my other Labyrinth works.

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 6,800

Warnings: themes of being forgotten, slight loss of identity, bar flirting, slight harassment, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie.

Masterlist

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When you had gotten wished away in your thirties, you were… perturbed.

After all, you had been long past the days of fairy tales and make-believe. Magic was a lovely story element for children, a way to encourage their imaginations and allow them to dream of the impossible. But it wasn’t real.

At least, that had been your theory between the ages of ten and thirty-something. Then, one of your second-grade students in the after-school tutoring session had gotten upset with you. You had told him that he couldn’t have a second helping of snacks unless he agreed to work on his math problems with you. He had been struggling with subtraction in particular, but was so energetic that it was difficult for him to focus.

You hadn’t really been able to blame him - it was after school hours and the sun was beginning to set, throwing beams of blazing orange light from beneath a carpet of dark purple clouds. It was the perfect counterpoint to the playfully spooky Halloween decorations you had put up around the room.

Anyway, when you had insisted that your student sit down and focus on his math sheet before you let him have another handful of gummy worms, he had pouted his tiny face. With an impressive amount of venom for a six-year-old, he said, “Well, I wish the goblins would take you away right now.”

You were still wearing an indulgent smile when you appeared in the straw-strewn throne room with an anticlimactic pop!

The Goblin King was lounging on his uncomfortable-looking throne, watching you with his own indulgent smile. “Wished away by a child, were you? Pity. He likely meant nothing by it, but… well, what’s said is said. I doubt he will opt to run the labyrinth, but let us see if he calls.”

Operating under the idea that you had fallen and given yourself a rather nasty concussion, you simply nodded and took a seat on the cleanest section of the stone floor you could find. It was quiet in the throne room, though you could hear the unmistakable sounds of distant chaos.

It had started small - brushing a piece of straw from the stone slab next to you. It fell into the pit and that made you feel a little better. Then you pushed the straw from the next stone, and the next until the section around you was clear. Then you started using your feet to push the straw down the stairs until it was gathered in a neat pile at the bottom.

“Would you like a broom?” the man with the wild hair asked. You were cautious when you faced him, but he simply looked amused.

“And a dustpan, if you don’t mind.”

He shook his head. “Unnecessary.”

You hadn’t bothered asking what that meant. Instead, you applied yourself to neatening the throne room, working from the edges and sweeping all the debris toward the pit in the center of the room. Even the brown dots - ones you hoped were mud but suspected were some kind of dried fecal matter - lifted easily enough under the stiff bristles of the broom.

At last, the room was clean and you swiped your forearm across your perspiring face. You didn’t know how the pit was going to get clean, but you were going to be miffed if the answer was ‘you’.

When you caught movement from the corner of your eye, you jumped. You hadn’t forgotten the room’s other occupant - how could you? - but he moved with such impossible silence that you couldn’t track him with hearing alone.

The man came to stand beside you and you took the chance to study him subtly. He looked… strange.

You shook yourself, reflexively berating yourself for the unkind thought, but you hadn’t been wrong. His face was narrow, flaring out at the cheekbones. His eyes were mismatched, but not in a heterochromatic way. No, one of his eyes was bluish-green while the other was simply black, as if it were entirely pupil.

His hair was long and straight, though cut at various lengths that left it tapering from his head down. Like a shag haircut on steroids. You were a little jealous and had vaguely started wondering whether you would be able to pull off the style when he turned. You realized just how tall he was.

His mismatched stare was heavy and intense, and you redirected your attention as soon as possible. You opted to look at the pit instead, to take in the pile of straw and droppings, but it was gone.

“What happened to the straw?” you asked, bewildered by the empty pit in front of you.

He smirked, lips twisting with an amusement that didn’t reach his eyes. “I discarded it, of course.”

“No, you didn’t,” you contradicted. “I’ve been standing there the whole time.”

“I used magic,” he clarified.

“Magic isn’t real.”

The man’s eyes widened, then narrowed at you. “Have you not yet realized that you’re in a different place than you were when you were wished away?”

“You said that earlier,” you remembered. “‘Wished away’. What do you mean?”

“At last, the typical questions,” he sighed. “Admittedly, far later than they are usually asked. Allow me to explain.”

The explanation that followed had been interesting, if mildly ludicrous: the man was actually a fae named Jareth. He collected lost and wished away items, though the only ones of them people cared enough to chase down were living things. He guarded the Labyrinth, collected the living things that appeared in the Underground - mostly children and pets, as he had explained - and allowed the wishers to run the Labyrinth if they wanted their disappeared item back.

It could have been a far shorter explanation if you hadn’t been far more convinced by your concussion theory.

In the end, Jareth had gotten tired of listening to your counterarguments and had sent you to ask Hoggle the rest of your questions. Hoggle had answered your questions… eventually. With a lot of complaining and work between giving those answers. You didn’t mind - work was something to keep you from running in circles in your own thoughts, and you learned a lot about the Labyrinth and the Underground simply by following Hoggle around.

Jareth didn’t call you back to the throne room for nearly a week.

“It seems as though your wisher is not going to run for you,” he said, taking on an expression he may have thought looked pitying. “He is at home with his mother, playing and eating and sleeping quite well without another thought of you. Quite the heroic youth."

“He’s six!” you reminded, mildly outraged at Jareth’s censure. “Even if he had offered, I wouldn’t want him running your labyrinth. It’s a death trap.”

Jareth’s expression had flattened at your insult, his mismatched eyes glittering with irritation. “Whether he would have run or not is irrelevant in the end. The real question is: what is to be done with you?”

“I…” You disliked asking questions you already knew the answers to, but there was nothing to be gained by playing things cool. “Could I go back home?”

“No.”

The blunt answer, though exactly what you had expected, still made you wilt.

Jareth, for all that he made you nervous, didn’t look cruel about it. In a voice that was kinder than you had hoped, he said, “Even if I would agree to send you home, it would be impossible. You have been here too long. You have eaten and drank from the Underground. A single bite, a single sip… those could be reasoned with. Enough to influence a dream, forge a connection. But anything more? You are of this place now, more one of us than one of them.”

You wanted to argue, but something in your chest agreed, some nameless tangle of a thing recognizing that everyone and everything you had known were ‘them’. And you were not.

Not anymore.

You had expected to be eaten by the Firies or thrown into the Bog or at least turned into a goblin, but Jareth had given you a different job: you were to be his hands and eyes in the human world.

“After all, no one will wish their belongings to me if they are ignorant of my existence,” he had told you. “You will spread information. Books and legends, stories told by firelight and in dark rooms as their occupants drift to sleep.”

And that was your task, had been for an eternity before you thought to check what year it was at all. People didn’t recognize you when you went to the human world, not even if you happened upon someone you had once known. That was fortunately rare, and became more so as the years faded. You didn’t seem to age, not the way you had. Perhaps there was an extra strand of silver in your hair or an aching joint where there never had been before, but it was uncommon.

Oh, you looked the same as you always had. You could verify that any time you were on the surface. Just then, for instance, you were standing outside of a bar and could see yourself in the shine of the old-fashioned, gilt-edged windows. You were generously curved as you had been before, your face the same shape.

If you stared too long, though, you could catch something strange in your face, in the way you walked. Nothing overt, of course, but something that made you look… sharp. Wild. It drew some attention when someone watched you for too long. The mask of your humanity - what remained of it, anyway - fell away with exposure. From there, it could go either way. Sometimes, humans fled like prey before a predator. Other times, they hit on you.

Had humanity always been like this? So willing to run into danger? You didn’t think so, but it was getting difficult to remember.

Either way, you had barely sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of wine before someone slid onto the barstool beside you. To be fair, you couldn’t be too upset about it. You had been searching for company.

“I’ll pay for that,” the man announced to the bartender. The bartender didn’t look like she could have cared less, but she managed a nod. “So, what’s your name?”

“I’m much more interested in learning yours,” you deflected.

The stranger beamed at that and you smiled back. If you had your way, he wouldn’t learn your name. Even if he did, he would forget it before the day ended and you would never see him again. You would feel guilty about that, but you needed him for temporary relief from your body’s needs, nothing more.

He could never be anything more.

You pushed all of that from your mind and focused on your partner for the evening. He was handsome, the type of person you dated before you were wished away. It was getting harder to remember those days.

The man’s personality was a little intense, but that tended to ease back a bit after someone realized that you weren’t going to disappear from them… yet.

Two drinks in, you had offered a smile that was almost genuine and were getting ready to suggest a change in location when your chest vibrated.

That wasn’t quite the right way to phrase it, but it was a difficult sensation to describe. It felt as though your ribcage and all of the organs it protected shook in tandem. The closest you had ever come to pinpointing the sensation was to compare it to the ringing of a gong, though thankfully, without the noise of the actual strike.

The sensation was a warning that the Goblin King wanted you back in the Underground. It would happen more often the longer you ignored the summons, and would eventually grow painful.

You rarely let it continue that long.

“I have to go,” you told your potential partner, standing abruptly from the stool and handing your credit card to the bartender. “Drinks are on me.”

At least, you assumed it was a credit card. It had no numbers or identification on it and you certainly didn’t have any money, but you had never had trouble paying for anything with it. Jareth had given it to you with minimal explanation.

“Hang on-” the man protested, catching at your arm. You looked at his hand, then at him. Some of your strangeness must have shown through, since he slowly withdrew. He wasn’t wary enough, since he continued to speak. “What happened? I thought this was going somewhere.”

“It was,” you agreed simply, accepting your card from the bartender and scrawling a series of loops on the receipt she slid toward you. “Now it’s not.”

Fortunately for your almost-partner for the evening, he thought better of trying to physically stop you again and you left the bar unaccosted.

Transportation to the Underground was rarely as dramatic as it had been that first time. Instead of a sudden, jarring switch in location, it happened as a slow fade. In this instance, you were walking and your surroundings seemed to blur slightly. When you could see clearly once more, you were in the Goblin King's throne room.

Your forward motion hadn’t stopped, but it was far more risky to keep walking with the goblins thronging around your feet. You looked down at the group currently blocking your way and said, “Excuse me.”

The goblins - who had apparently been occupied in some kind of chicken-based game, shrieked and tumbled to either side. You continued toward the throne.

For his part, Jareth was pretending he hadn’t noticed you yet. Instead, he was sprawled across his throne and studying the riding crop he had resting across his knees. Most observers would believe he was pensive, utterly lost in thought, but you knew better. Jareth loved to be watched, and if he could convince you that you had chosen to look without any prompting from him, so much the better.

“You summoned me, sir?” you asked, reaching the base of the throne and offering a small incline of your head.

Jareth glanced over, managing to look surprised, curious, and haughty. “Yes, I want a report on your progress.”

“Do you mind if I dismiss your subjects?”

“As if you do not number among them?” Jareth tested, a corner of his mouth quirking upward knowingly. When you simply maintained eye contact, he gave a slight nod. “Very well, if it would please you.”

With effort, you managed not to shake your head at him. You were well able to focus even with the din of goblins around you, but Jareth took any respite he could get from them.

“Can you all go downstairs for a while?” you asked, directing the question to the room at large. “I need to speak with the king.”

“You’s is speaking to him now,” one squeaky goblin pointed out, sounding sullen.

Before the others could agree, you quickly cut in and diverted them. “You’re right, I am. But we need to talk about some very boring stuff and we need the room to be quiet. If you want to stay, you can’t make any noise. In fact, you could even help clean the throne room…”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything else, the goblins rushed out of the room in a panicked tide. You smirked at the receding wave of excitable, temperamental creatures. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since you had taught six and seven year-olds, but the goblins weren’t so different from human children.

When you turned around, Jareth was sitting on the throne like it was a chair rather than a fainting couch. One of his eyebrows was raised and he looked impressed despite himself. “Someday, you must help me gain such mastery over my subjects.”

“Impossible,” you told him flatly. “They’re too focused on impressing you.”

“That has always been my burden to bear,” the Goblin King drawled, preening slightly as you tried not to roll your eyes.

Jareth was the king. If you were to be technical about it, he was your king. He had left you alive when he didn’t need to. Even more than that, the nature of the job he had given you meant you had certain powers. The Goblin King did not bestow those lightly. You felt like you owed him at least basic respect, if not anything more subservient.

Besides, Jareth had enough people - well, goblins - trying to respond to his every need. You liked to think that he enjoyed the bits of personality you were willing to share with him.

Rather than voice any of that aloud, you gave a shallow nod. "But you summoned me for a purpose. What do you need?"

With the amusement still dancing across his fine features, Jareth tilted his head at you. "The work I gave you has never taken so long. I wanted an update on your progress."

"My…" For the first time since you had found yourself in this strange land, you were thrown off by Jareth. He had never given any deadlines for your work, never ordered you to be done by a specific time. In fact, the opposite had been true. On the rare occasions that you worried about how long something took, Jareth was the first to remind you that he - and, by extension, you - had all the time that would ever exist.

You managed to scrape together a semblance of competence. "An update. Yes. I can- That is, the work you gave me is complete. I distributed the books, set up special showings of the film, and orchestrated the release of some photographs."

"All of that has been done?" Jareth checked. When you nodded, he gave you a stern look. "Then why did you not return to me immediately?"

As if on cue, something low in your stomach gave a heaving, disgruntled throb. You had never been overly desire-driven when you were fully human, and you blamed that for your current awkwardness - sex had never been common enough for you to grow blunt about your need for it. But you still had that need, and your body’s complaints were almost enough to drown out the weight of Jareth’s stare. Almost.

“I was in the middle of a different task,” you replied, trying to make it sound as bland as possible. Jareth’s attention span was stronger than that of his subjects, but he still made a concerted effort to avoid boring subjects. “Nothing of importance.”

Jareth studied his hands. “No, I imagine there is not much of importance in a dirty tavern.”

You froze. Not that you had been moving very much before, but every muscle locked down in response to the pointed revelation that Jareth could and did know where you went when you were Aboveground. “I-”

“You?” Jareth repeated mockingly. “Yes, you. You allowed a human to ply you with alcohol, then to paw at you. Though I suspect, given the tone of your conversation, that is far more innocent than what you would have done if I had not summoned you back here.”

“But how-”

Your question cut off abruptly when Jareth made a noise of impatience, tapping his cheekbone twice, just below his human eye.

“You watch me?” you demanded, surprise turning swiftly to anger and embarrassment. “Why?”

Jareth treated the question as literal rather than rhetorical, musing for a moment before he answered. “At first, to see if you intended to flee. It would not have worked, but it is always amusing to see humans try. Then, to be certain that you were performing your tasks to my standards. And finally…” The smile on Jareth’s face was indolent, with more than a hint of mischief. “Simply because I can.”

Glaring at an omnipotent fae king was probably not the wisest thing you could do, but your fury made you bold. “And have you watched me during my personal time before?”

Jareth let his head loll toward you for the best view of his self-satisfaction. “Yes.”

With a barely stifled noise of outrage, you spun with every intention of storming out of the room. Unfortunately for you, the powers Jareth had allotted you were nothing compared to his own. Without a sound or a motion from him, Jareth ordered the heavy doors to swing closed and there was nothing you could do to force them open once more.

“I do not see why you are so offended,” Jareth told you, conversational tone coming from nearer than his throne. “I am well aware that humans have needs.”

“Then why interrupt me…” Your hissed demand had caught in your throat when you turned to find Jareth much closer than anticipated. The Goblin King twisted his head slightly to one side, matching the smirk that twisted his lips. You cleared your throat. “Why interrupt me when you know I’m occupied? Like you said, I have needs. It doesn’t help anyone if I’m too busy to meet them.”

“You are missing the most obvious solution,” Jareth informed you, spreading his hands to either side. “I can help meet those needs.”

“You?” you repeated skeptically.

Jareth’s arms dropped and he looked almost offended. “And why not me?”

It may have been a rhetorical question, but you gave it as much thought as he had to your earlier question about his reasoning. “Well, you don’t seem like you would be interested. You don’t usually do things unless you have something to gain.”

“Have I not struck you as altruistic?” he asked. You shook your head, opting for honesty above tact. “Good. You are right, I don’t perform favors out of something as naïve as kindness. I have much to gain from this offer.”

“Like what?” you asked. The suspicion in your voice was so thick as to be almost comical, but Jareth didn’t seem offended.

“Pleasure,” he answered simply. “Do you want to meet your needs now? Or will you wait until the next time you have a spare moment to be disappointed by some human in a bar?”

You thought about waiting, you really did. Jareth was cocky enough without giving him access to something as personal as your pleasure. But you were growing close to desperation. That could make you more likely to be careless in Aboveground, something you weren’t willing to risk.

“You’re right,” you said. “It is the most obvious solution.”

The only thing that saved you from the self-congratulatory smile that slid across Jareth’s face was the fact that you erased it with your lips a moment later.

The Goblin King’s teeth were sharp. It had been one of the first things you noticed when you met him so long ago, but you were still a little shocked to be confronted by that sharpness when you slipped your tongue between his lips.

Jareth’s surprise rivaled your own, though for different reasons. For half a moment, he seemed taken aback by your ardor, but he recovered and took control of the kiss before you could get used to the taste of him. He was like the sweetest wine, and you were instantly addicted.

A hand latched around your jaw kept your head positioned just where Jareth wanted it, and he swept through you like a hurricane. It was all you could do to keep up with him, but you were the first one to succumb to wandering hands.

His clothes were always so decadent, and you had been waiting a long time to see if they felt as lovely as they looked. You were delighted to say that they did - textures sliding and dancing beneath your fingertips - but you were more focused on what you felt under those clothes.

The heat of Jareth’s skin was immense even through his clothing, enough to pull an answering sensation of heat from you. Every item of clothing you removed from him ratcheted the temperature further up until you felt like there was fire under your skin.

Halfway through removing Jareth’s ostentatious cape, you pulled away to deposit it safely on his throne. It wouldn’t do to have it trampled by goblins or, worse, land in chicken excrement.

Jareth muttered complaints for every moment you were away from him, pulling you impatiently closer the moment you were in arm’s reach. “I don’t know why you did that. I intend for that throne to be our next destination.”

You cast an assessing glance toward the door. It looked heavily barred, and you hadn’t been able to budge it, but there was a distinct possibility… “Fine with me, as long as you’re sure we won’t be interrupted. I don’t want to toss any of your subjects from the window of your throne room.”

“The door is locked,” he assured you, ducking his head to press wet kisses down your neck before blowing gently across his handiwork.

With a shiver at the abrupt shift in temperature, you nodded. “And no goblin has ever managed to circumvent a locked door before.”

Jareth paused, clearly intent on undoing your shirt, but gave a marvelously exasperated groan. “Fine.”

Your triumph was cut off by an abrupt shriek as Jareth pulled you into his arms so strongly that your feet left the floor. “Jareth! What are you doing?”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, pet,” he replied, pouting. “I’m not wasting any more time.”

And then he was striding toward a section of the throne room that looked distinctly… soft around the edges, and you recognized it as a portal. All of that was secondary, of course, to the ever-present awareness of being held in Jareth’s arms.

As someone with a proud set of curves, you could count on one hand the number of times you’d been lifted by a lover. That was a shame, since being carried was something of a weakness for you, especially when you weren’t worried about being dropped. And nothing in Jareth’s expression or posture warned that he was about to run out of strength.

You were still basking in the sensation as Jareth stepped through the portal and into a room that was nearly as large as the throne room. The major differences were that there was no pit and that the place of the throne was occupied by the largest bed you had ever seen.

A smile stretched across your face as Jareth set you down on that large bed, and he frowned at you. “What is amusing you?”

“This bed is enormous,” you explained. “Yet I’ve never seen you with anyone.”

“I’ve had a partner here on numerous occasions,” he told you haughtily. “Perhaps you have not seen them because you are so busy finding partners among the humans.”

“Perhaps,” you agreed readily enough. “Or perhaps it has been such a long time that your last partner and I missed each other.”

“That…” Jareth’s lips pursed, “...is possible.”

You didn’t necessarily remember closing your eyes while you laughed at that, but you must have. When you opened them once more, Jareth was looming over you. “Pleased as I am to provide amusement, there are other noises I would rather pull from you.”

Your breath caught at the rough admission. Jareth’s face descended before you could scrape up a response, and then you were too concerned with meeting the intoxicating rhythm of his mouth against yours.

The next thing you knew, you were resting more securely on the bed with Jareth holding himself above you. Both of you were fully naked and you had no idea how you had gotten that way. Most likely, he had used his magic to remove your clothing, but it was possible that you had been too thoroughly distracted by his kisses to worry about something as minor as what his hands were doing.

In any case, you were reveling in the way your hands could roam over him without encountering any barriers. Jareth’s body was pale, muscles dancing subtly under his skin. That paleness was marked with occasional scars - silvery marks that spoke of injuries from long ago. You couldn’t see much of him below the mid-torso since he was pressed so tightly to you, but you could feel the delicious length of him, hot and hard against your thigh.

When Jareth finally pulled away, he only went far enough to make eye contact without either of you crossing your eyes. “I want to taste you. Is that acceptable to you?”

“You’re the king,” you reminded him with a sardonic smile.

Jareth’s jaw flexed and his mismatched eyes narrowed. “Precisely. Which is why I expect an honest answer when I ask a question. Do you want this?”

“Yes.” The confirmation was a little breathless, but Jareth’s reply had been unexpected for someone who placed such an emphasis on retaining control. “Yes, I do.”

“Good,” he told you with a nod.

His patronizing tone might have set your teeth on edge, but Jareth accompanied it with a praising stroke down the length of your body. His fingertips trailed fire from your collarbone, over one breast, across the swell of your stomach, and down to the part of you that was aching for him. At the same time, he slid down until his face was even with your hips and you could hardly keep still with the anticipation filling you.

With your knees already parted around him, Jareth had only to wedge his shoulders between your thighs to gain full access to your core. The sudden exposure to the air of the room sent a chill through the parts of you that were burning the hottest, but the coolness only heightened the sensations.

Jareth didn’t give you any warning, any time to brace. Instead, he ducked his head suddenly, swiping the flat of his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the very top. He paused for a moment while you made a sound of startled pleasure, his lips quirking.

“Delicious,” he told you. “I wonder if you’re even sweeter inside?”

Before you could offer any reply, Jareth apparently decided to see for himself. One of your legs was tossed over his shoulder while he pinned the other to the bed. That was the only thing that kept you from trying to strangle him with your thighs when he began to torment you in earnest.

Those plush lips and wicked tongue explored every part of you, wringing pleasure from you like it was something precious he could save for later.

An elegant finger pushed into your core, pressing into the heat and slickness of you without a bit of difficulty. Your muscles spasmed so dramatically that it forced you to sit up - or, more accurate, to try. Jareth’s arm across your hips kept you pinned to the bed, leaving you to writhe, squeeze your legs around him, and cry out your pleasure loud enough for the entire castle to hear. The hand pressing you into the softness of the mattress strummed fingers across your hip.

With an expression that felt wild with pleasure, you stared down between your own thighs and clenched even harder around that finger. Your eyes had met Jareth’s mismatched gaze where it peeked over the roundness of your tummy. Mischief glimmered on what you could see of his face, and there was a clear sense of enjoyment in his bearing.

That eye contact sent an electric thrill through you, and you were gone. Your head kicked back against the pillow and you seemed to leave your body for an eternity, shattering into infinite pieces under the onslaught of pleasure Jareth was using to assault you.You may have made a noise - probably had, if you were judging from your experience so far - but you couldn’t hear it over the way your ears rang with the sound of your mind shattering.

When you finally settled back into your body again, it felt too small to possibly contain everything you had felt. Jareth was applying long, luxurious licks to your core, sweeping over the entirety of your slit and it was all you could do to push him away.

Jareth gave you a moment to collect your breath, but soon enough, he was peering down at you with no small amount of pride on his strange face. “Will you recover?”

You were a bit embarrassed by the strength of your reaction to him, but you managed a smile and a nod. “Guess I needed that more than I thought. It’s been a while.”

The fae tilted his head to the side, a hint of a smile showing the white points of his teeth. “My dear, do you honestly believe I have lived so long without learning to draw pleasure from someone? Your state of arousal has little to do with it.”

The post-orgasmic glow kept you from mustering the scoff that deserved. After delivering a sad little huff, you told him, “Humble as ever, Goblin King.”

“I would so hate to leave you with an inaccurate idea of my skill,” Jareth drawled. “I would be happy to provide further proof at your earliest convenience.”

Your breath caught in your throat, leading to an embarrassing cough. On the positive side, that cough gave you a moment to internally puzzle through that. Was Jareth volunteering to do this again sometime? He was technically your boss and your king, and thus a romantic connection you had never experienced before, but you couldn’t honestly say you wouldn’t be with him again. Even ignoring the pleasure - difficult as that was - you… really wouldn’t mind repeating this experience.

“Uh, okay,” you said elegantly.

Jareth simply smiled at you, but something about his intent gaze warned that he understood your thoughts as clearly as he did his own. Still, all he said aloud was, “Did that satisfy you, pet? Or would you perhaps like to continue?”

Before you could fight it, your gaze dropped to the apex of his thighs. He was visibly hard and ready for you, his body betraying an eagerness that was totally hidden in his expression. Despite his state of arousal, Jareth was still giving you the option to be done with him. As he was known for his lack of tact, you recognized and appreciated the effort Jareth was putting into making you comfortable.

And what better way was there to show your appreciation than to offer some relief?

“I think I might need a little more,” you told him, playing coy. You even added a demure drop of your gaze, though you could see him through your lashes.

That was how you watched when Jareth’s expression sharpened, though his voice stayed careless. “I don’t believe in offering partial respite. I shall see this task through until it is complete.”

The smile that fought to spread across your face was only stifled by the way Jareth caught at your ankle and pulled you further down the bed. He surged upward at the same time until you were firmly beneath him. The fae dotted your face, jaw, and neck with kisses as he settled heavily on top of you. Your legs parted automatically to wrap around his waist and draw him closer, but you were taken aback when the length of him pressed against your still-sensitive core.

You were still surfing the wave of heightened sensation when you felt the tip of Jareth’s length notch into your opening.

Jareth’s fingers trailed from your forehead down to your jaw, turning your head until he could peer into your face. “Are you ready for me, pet?”

“Yes,” you agreed eagerly. “Please…”

“Don’t beg, sweet thing,” he instructed. “You never need to beg for me.”

And then he was driving into you - robbing you of any ability to process that.

Jareth had seemed to have an average build below the waist, as you had expected from his elegant physique and slender limbs. Still, he felt earth-shattering as he eased inside of you, enough to take your breath away even considering how wet you were with the remains of your earlier orgasm.

You were utterly still as he pressed in, locked in place by the amount of concentration you had fixed on the feeling of him. But the first time he withdrew from the depths of you, every part of you writhed beneath him. Your hands grasped, your toes curled, your head tilted in an attempt to ease the groan that fought for release from your throat.

Jareth swallowed that groan, dipping down easily to sweep through your mouth just as thoroughly as he had the first time. He plundered you greedily, feeding on the sounds you made for him as his hips danced closer and away, closer and away.

Infuriatingly, he kept you - and himself - poised on the edge of orgasm for an eternity, slowing whenever either of you came too close to the precipice. Jareth chased pleasure eagerly, though, tormenting you with fingers and lips to push you higher without allowing you the relief of release.

“Jareth, please,” you begged as his hips slowed once more.

He arched a brow at you. “Yes, pet? What do you need?”

“I-” You gave a hoarse gasp as a deliberate twist of his hips left the length of him brushing against your g-spot. It was followed by a noise of frustration when his pace slowed to a fraction of what it had been. “Please, I need to come.”

His smile was so sudden that it looked almost fierce. “My dear, why did you not tell me earlier?”

A retort sprang to your lips, but it died there as he shifted infinitesimally inside of you. That minor change had devastating effects on the angle of his thrusts inside of you, which picked up speed until it was all you could do not to drown in him.

Your body tightened around his as it had done so many times before, but he didn’t slow this time. Instead, his lips caught yours as his thumb strummed your clit.

That kiss was only broken when your orgasm hit you like a train, kicking your head back and dropping your mouth open so you could cry out from the incredible intensity of the pleasure that filled you. Your limbs curled around Jareth, constricting to keep him pressed against you as tightly as possible.

On his side of things, Jareth didn’t seem inclined to fight his imprisonment. His hips pistoned between your trembling thighs, burying himself in you over and over until - finally - his rhythm faltered.

Those sharp teeth were bared in a snarl as he pushed himself as deeply as he could get. The warmth of his release flooded you.

When the frantic pulses of his hips slowed, Jareth let himself drop on top of you. His weight was on you for a fraction of a second before he twisted to pull you on top of him instead. Since he was still buried in your core, the motion left you in the grip of an aftershock, but you recovered enough to move off of him.

Jareth’s eyes were closed, but his hands lashed out to keep you from moving as soon as you started to. “I don’t know where you think you’re going, pet, but you are mistaken.”

“I’m just rolling off of you, Jareth,” you told him, exasperated. “If I crush you, it’ll be regicide and I can’t imagine a goblin trial is pleasant.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, eyes still closed. “But mostly because they show an inability to focus on a single issue for more than seconds at a time. And as for being crushed by you… Not only is it an impossibility, but it sounds rather pleasant.”

“Jareth…” you sighed.

That made him open his mismatched eyes and you were startled to see the changes in them. The blue-green of his human eye was expanding both toward the pupil and over the white sclera. The pupil-less darkness of his fae eye was doing the same, slowly working out until the entire orb of his eye was dark.

When Jareth finally spoke, it was with a smile that showed his sharp teeth. “Did you know there is a difference in the way you say my name now?”

You paused, scanning over his face for a moment before you asked, “And what does that mean?”

Jareth didn’t immediately answer you, but his smile didn’t fade during the stretch of quiet. At long last, he said, “It means that things have changed between us. It means that I encourage you to seek to satisfy your needs in my bed. And it means that I chose the perfect person to serve as my emissary in the human world.”

That was significantly less worrisome than what you thought he would say. In fact, it was even… sweet. “I certainly never thought I would end up here, but I can’t say that I regret it.”

“Faint praise,” Jareth said dryly. “But praise nonetheless. We shall see whether we can further improve your outlook on your place in my kingdom.”

“I look forward to that,” you admitted, relaxing slightly into him.

Jareth’s arms tightened around you, drawing you even closer. “As do I.”

---

Author's Note - Thanks for reading! I'm not officially accepting requests, but someone sent this one in and it caught my interest enough to help me break through some writer's block.

Happy Halloween!

I don't offer a taglist for spicy fics, but you can find other works on my masterlist.

#labyrinth #labyrinth 1986 #jareth #jareth the goblin king #reader insert #reader insert fic #reader insert fanfiction #jareth x reader #jareth x fem!reader #jareth x you #lemon #spicy #minors dni #not suitable for minors #ink's asks #ink's fics

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whenlostinthedarkness · 1 year ago

Note

Ellie x reader where they take nudes of each other on a Polaroid camera they found on a patrol and completely forget about them until someone finds them🫣😭

May or may not have written a whole ass one shot because this got me so inspired lol. Thank you for requesting this; Enjoy anon xx

Warnings: Sexual overtones and some sexual stuff sorta but not really, swearing, & use of marijuana.

Word Count: 2.5k

Anytime you and your girlfriend Ellie were put on a patrol route together, you could feel the giddiness exploding between both of you.

On a usual day where one of you had the day off and the other was out on work duties, the one at home would be sitting around, bored, and attempting to busy themselves until their girlfriend returned safe and sound. But today was one of those lucky days where you both were needed on the patrol route.

The start of patrol was pretty chill as both of you alternated between sifting through withered buildings and riding along on your horses, allowing time to appreciate the scenery of the area around in the downtime you had.

"Hey, let's check out that building with the camera sign," Ellie spoke as she rode on her horse directly next to you, pointing her finger in the direction of a storefront sized building.

You peered in the direction she was pointing at before looking back at her with an accepting shrug, "I'm down if you are."

The both of you guided your horses over in the direction of the building before leaving the animals to stand side by side, just a few feet from the broken glass door that went into the, what you assumed to be, old camera store.

"Check this shit out", Ellie said with excitement in her tone as her bright eyes marveled at the colorful, peeled wallpaper and exposed brick in a building that had to have been the ideal modern storefront before all of the infected shit happened.

You squealed as you quickly walked over to a massive bookshelf set on a wall. Several scrap pieces of cardboard and glass littered the shelf, but what your eye had been after was the books that were some how still set on the shelf as if the world hadn't completely shifted since they were first placed on the shelf.

You picked one of the books up, shoving off the layers upon layers of dust and debris that had gathered over the years, until you could make out the title on the cover, 'Camera's Throughout the Years'.

"Shit, look at this babe!"

You glanced over your shoulder to Ellie who was holding what appeared to be an oblong, square shaped, object.

Immediately, you walked over to her as she stared at this object that nearly looked futuristic to the both of you.

" What is it?", you said, tracing your finger along the thing in question.

"Hell if I know," Ellie shrugged, pressing all of the buttons on the mystery item in hopes that it would somehow start talking or moving or..doing whatever the hell its purpose was.

"Let me see if its in this book".

Quickly, you removed the cover of the book and flipped through the pages, scanning the table of contents in search of info, until you came across a diagrammed image of what appeared to be the very thing set in Ellie's hands.

"El, I think I've got it!"

Ellie was quick to move the camera away from her face and look down at the book you held in the palms of your hands.

"Looks like it's something called a Polaroid Camera." Your eyes were still scanning the book as quickly as you could as your fingers followed along with the typed words on the page.

"I think if you press the button over..here on the right..," your eyes were fixated on the object in Ellie's hand and she couldn't help but admire the way your eyes were squinted in concentration as your tongue slightly peaked out between your parted lips.

"...and just lift up on this part...it should open up."

It took you a couple tries, but eventually the top part began to move upwards until it was sitting straight up, exposing a fully intact Polaroid Camera.

"Holy shit dude!", Ellie exclaimed, eyes wild and smile never ending as she examined everything (and I mean everything) about the cameras exterior.

You rattled off the instructions on how to use it as Ellie continued to marvel at the object.

"Looks like we need films in order to use it El," you said with disappointment in your voice, "...unless."

Ellie could tell the wheels in your brain were turning as you looked the camera up, down, side to side; quickly, she handed it over to you.

"Holy shit, there's still film in this thing."

"You've got to be shitting me?!"

"Look!" You exclaimed, showing Ellie the little box of film that was still snugged inside of the square shaped compartment at the very bottom of the camera.

"Should we...test it out?"

"Oh most definitely", you replied to Ellie as you pulled the camera up to your face and looked through it's small view finder.

"Smile for me El."

Immediately, Ellie pulled up her hand to cover her face from the camera, "No fucking way."

You pouted, but continued to follow Ellie with the camera persistently, "Please El."

"What's in it for me?" Ellie smirked, bringing her hand down in order to cross both of her arms in front of her body, just below her chest.

You removed your eye from its focus on the viewfinder and lowered the camera down away from your face with an annoyed, yet amused grin.

"Oh god."

"What?"

"You know what Ellie."

Ellie walked over to you until her feet were planted on the cracked wood floor with the tips of both of your shoes touching. "Enlighten me then."

Smugly, you moved your face ever so slightly towards Ellie, which didn't go unnoticed by her. "You're never fair with your little games."

"What games", Ellie shrugged, fully playing the part of an innocent victim (which she wasn't).

"Mmmm okay."

"Okay," Ellie mimicked, trying to match your tone.

You weren't one to back down from a challenge to one up your stubborn girlfriend and now wasn't any different.

"You really wanna go there?" You moved your body forward, making Ellie nearly fall backwards from your gentle, yet sturdy nudge as she stood directly in front of you.

"Go where?"

"Shut up Ellie," you continued your nudging, but this time you didn't stop. The both of you continued on with Ellie walking backwards and you walking forwards directly into her.

"Make me."

Ellie watched as, the moment the words left her mouth, your innocent eyes seemed to cloud with devilish intention.

Gently, you placed your free hand on top of Ellies and guided until it was landing on your clothed chest; Ellie's pulse instantly began to quicken as her mind and emotions shifted from playful to aroused.

FLASH!

A strong beam of white light over took the dimly lit store as the sound of the film being spat out of the camera took over the only sound in the store, that is until Ellie let out a "What the fuck!"

You backed away from your girlfriend with a playful smile as you moved the camera away from your face and shook the film in your hand; again, doing just as the book advised.

"Babe cmon on," Ellie protested, trying to grab the film out of your hand.

"El, don't you want to see what your face looks like when you grab my boob?"

"No actually, I'd rather just see your boob."

You playfully scoffed, "Maybe you will if you stop being so difficult."

At that, Ellie stopped attempting to grab the photo in your hand, "You better be for real."

You shook your head, "You're ridiculous, you know that,"

Ellie's soft yet playful smile made you crack a genuine smile as you reached out for her hand, intertwining the tip of both of your fingers.

"Awww Ellie", immediately you cradled the photo to your chest with your free hand.

It only took a quick look, but the photo was preciously adorned with Ellie and an awestruck look on her face that made her features seem so soft and relaxed.

Ellie rolled her eyes, still wearing a smile that let you know she was appreciating your admiration for her looks, "Yeah yeah."

"You look so cute dude. I'm going to put this up in my place."

Ellie couldn't help her smile now, not even bothering to attempt to cover it up as you clutched it to your chest with two hands now, gleaming right back at her.

"I guess, it's time for your end of the deal now," you spoke slowly, raising the camera up and out to hand over to Ellie.

"What do you mean?", she questioned.

You smirked, moving your arms out of your shirt until it was lifted up & over your head.

"Wha-what are yo-you.."

Before Ellie could finish her stuttering sentence, your shirt was being discarded onto the ground, leaving you standing in your dusted jeans and grey sports bra.

Your hand out stretched to Ellie, beckoning her to come closer to you, which she happily accepted.

"What the hell are you doing?" Ellie said as she now stood just a bout a foot or so in front of you.

"Helping you get your picture." Suddenly your hands were slowly reaching for the bottom hem of the only fabric that was covering your chest.

"Babe."

"Hmm?", you hummed, lifting the fabric off of your top half until it was discarded alongside your shirt, leaving your chest naked, much to Ellies pleasure.

"Holy Shit." Ellie admired quietly, her eyes naturally raking over your chest and then back up to your eyes. "Are you asking me to take a picture of..you know," Ellie motioned her hand in the general area of where your tits were.

The mix of nervousness and astonishment in Ellie's voice was something you wished you could recored to play on repeat for those days when she was out on patrol without you.

As you stared at your girlfriend, giving her a smile, she didn't think twice about lifting the camera up to her face.

"All you do is put your eye in that little Hole right there and press the red button on the side," you explained, but if Ellie was being honest, she was only half able to comprehend any of your words. She was much too preoccupied with the way your tits were naked for her to devour with her eyes..and now to capture and have for..whenever the occasion arose.

As Ellie peered through the viewfinder, her cheeks reddened as you shifted your shoulders back, making your tits that much more pronounced and ready for her to bring her lips to.

Ellies pointer finger held down the shutter as the familiar noise of the film ejecting itself echoed through the store.

"It'll take a second for it to-"

Ellie interrupted you by quickly placing the camera and it's fresh film onto the nearby shelf and pining your back against the red brick accent wall, surely leaving slight scratches along your bare back.

You gleamed up at her as you wrapped your arms around her neck; it didn't take long for her lips to come into contact with yours in a harsh kiss that was dripping in longing.

Ellie let out a chuckle as her lips removed themselves from yours, "Maybe we should take this along so we could..take some more."

------

A Week Later

"Shut the fuck up Jesse," Ellie nudged her friend with her shoulder as the alcohol in his body made him giggle like a school child next to her.

Ellie and her friend in tow were crunching their way through the snow covered roads as they got closer and closer to the front door of her house after a night out of catching up.

Ellies hand twisted on the doorknob as she flicked on a lamp and stabbed her knife into a nearby table.

"Let me find my weed real quick then we can smoke up."

Jesse nodded, removing both his boots & coat before flopping down on Ellie's couch.

Jesse had been to your home many times before, probably having it subconsciously memorized if you had quizzed him on all the contents of your home...but something caught his eye this time that seemed out of place.

As Ellie went to her bathroom, grabbing the small tin that held potent smelling greenery, Jesse's curiosity got the better of him.

Peaking out from underneath one of Ellie's sketchbooks was the corner of...something..an object that Jesse couldn't fully make out. Looking around quickly, Jesse sneakily thumbed the corner of the object, sliding it out from underneath the leather bound book, until...it was revealed.

His cheeks grew red at the polaroid of you and your naked chest staring back at him, making him forcefully tuck it back underneath the sketchbook.

"Two pre-rolled joints coming up," with every word, Ellie's voice came closer and closer until she was in full view and plopping down on the couch next to her sheepish looking friend.

"Here", Ellie's long fingers pinched the edge of the joint as she passed it over to Jesse, but he didn't take it right away.

"Jess?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry", Jesse's eyes must've been deer in the headlights worthy as Ellie scanned him with a furrowed brow.

"You good?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"You don't seem fine," Ellie chuckled as she held the lighter up to the white stick in her mouth until it was smoking at the end.

Jesse took the lighter Ellie held out to him, lighting his joint with a look of disassociation still evident on his face.

"Dude, what's up with you?", Ellie questioned as she exhaled.

Jesse gulped after taking the first hit and breathing the smoke out through his nose and mouth.

"You uh..you may want to try to hide this better."

Ellie looked confused at her best friend, "Hide what?"

The substance was beginning to relax Jesse more as he felt the weight on his shoulders soften and his once mortified eyes beginning to fall more closed than usual.

He chuckled, moving his eyes down to Ellie's sketchbook, doing his best to give her the hint without him having to actually say that he found her girlfriends nudes.

"What the hell are you on Jesse", Ellie chuckled, deeply inhaling and eyeing her friend.

Jesse sighed before bringing his hand down to Ellie's sketchbook, tapping his finger against the corner of the polaroid picture that had been revealed to his eyes just minutes ago.

Suddenly, Ellie's squinted pupils grew wider than ever as she came around to what he was talking about.

"Shit," she said, grabbing her sketchbook quickly, but forgetting that the intimate photo that Jesse found wasn't the only one set underneath the journal.

Jesse's eyes subconsciously dragged over to the..not so safe for work images of you, Ellie, and one of Ellie's hand wrapped around what he assumed to be her girlfriends neck.

"Fucking hell Ellie!" Jesse covered his eyes quickly as if somehow that would magically erase the images that were sure to burn into your mind for the foreseeable future.

"Damn it-Fuck, fuck fuck," Ellie swore as she grabbed the remainder of the images, placing them completely hidden under her sketchbook that was now on her bedside table.

"I-I'm so sorry Jesse."

But Jesse was much too fucked up by now to be able to be bothered by the accident, all his mind thought to do was begin laugh vigorously as his hand vibrated as it rested on top of his abdomen.

"Hey, fuck off," Ellie said as she began to lose the embarrassment as she playfully taunted her friend before once again sitting down next to him on the couch.

"I see why you date her," Jesse quipped, his laughter still spilling out to the point where it was difficult for him to get even one word out.

Ellie wasn't sure if it was the weed beginning to do it's job, the situation that had just happen, or a good combination of both, but she too began laughing hysterically and playfully hit Jesse's shoulder.

"Erase that shit from your brain dude."

"Oh don't worry," Jesse nodded through red rimmed eyes, "I'm going to try to."

#Ellie williams #Ellie williams x reader #Ellie fic #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #Ellie the last of us #Ellie williams smut #kinda?#my writing

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arcadia-of-pluto · 5 months ago

Text

Twist of Fate; Chapter Fifteen

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 2.6k

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and mature content

Notes; Last chapter for the weekend (I say weekend but it's only friday–) I'm really thinking about posting chapter sixteen, but I think I need to put more distance between my chapters I'm posting and what I'm currently working on, since twenty is real close to sixteen. I'll probably be working on chapter twenty this weekend and if I get to twenty-one, I might post sixteen! 🩷

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Masterlist

Melodious music serenades the luxurious banquet hall that’s illuminated by dreamy lighting.

Sylus calmly guides you across the dance floor, swaying to the song’s slow rhythm. He blocks the prying shadows around you both and when you look up, all you see is his face, which is quite infuriating because it’s a good face. It’s distracting.

“Y/n, you need to be smarter if you want to retaliate against me,” Sylus says with a small sigh. “Sorry, I’m not really used to these kinds of social gatherings,” You glance away from him with a small, sheepish smile and clumsily lift your heel off of his foot.

“Did you actually get information on the aether core?”

“You can choose not to believe me,” Sylus muses as you continue your dance. Catching a glimpse of a flashing red dot in the shadows, you use your hand that’s on his shoulder to push him in the opposite direction.

“But they wouldn’t leak such important information. Unless..” You trail off, trying to get him to talk about what you heard over the earpiece earlier, “It’s a trap.” “Exactly.” A smile tugs at the corner of Sylus’ lips, almost as if he’s proud of you for coming to that realization.

You look back up at him, a little concerned. “You’re not going to throw yourself into their trap, are you?” The man shakes his head before speaking with a smile, “Be content with your role. Don’t scare away the fish that already bit the hook.”

You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment, “There’s…eight evol bombs, fifteen high-frequency guns…They really want you dead. Sylus, you made a lot of enemies.” “This isn’t the first time it’s happened,” He replies nonchalantly as the music reaches a crescendo. The notes from the orchestra are layers on top of one another, like surging tidal waves.

The lights dim to the passionate beats and shadows surround you both on all sides.

“You have something up your sleeve, right? Even if you have a death wish, I don’t intend to die here with you,” You harshly whisper, feeling a panic build up in your chest.

“Don’t worry, you won’t die that easily.” Is all he says. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Boom

A deafening explosion drowns out the music and ensuing screams. The beautiful hall is instantly reduced to rubble.

Amidst the surging chaos, Sylus tightens his grip on your hand and while your heartbeat thunders in your ears, you can barely make out a scoff coming from him. To your surprise, you see him nonchalantly crush something before throwing it into the debris.

“You…had the detonator this whole time?” You ask, ears slightly ringing from the explosion as you look up at him. He laughs, a smile on his lips, “The vermin were taking their sweet time. I was getting impatient.”

“The metaflux is quickly increasing and there’s more than one wanderer…be careful.” You look around at the rubble, hand subconsciously squeezing his tighter. Your free hand quickly pulls your gun from your thigh holster to fire several shots at the wanderer that was about to attack Sylus.

“Well, that was close..” You let out a sigh of relief. “How long do you think you’ll last with an outdated weapon like that?” He asks, jerking his chin in the direction of your pistols. “Hey..” You pout, holding your gun close to your chest.

They were like your babies. You couldn’t just get rid of them.

Sylus tosses over another gun and you fumble with it in your full hands. “Don’t waste your efforts.” he says, not elaborating on what he means. You shake your head with a small sigh, re-holstering your other guns to hold the new ones. They were definitely lighter than your old ones and seemed to be better made.

“Did Sherman make you do this? Where’s the aether core? Hey, answer me!” After you had handled the last wanderer, you found a henchman cowering in the corner. You press the muzzle of your gun against the back of his head as you spit-fired questions at him.

“You haven’t won yet! We still have a backup plan…! That thing is terrifying. When it shows up, not even Sylus– agh!” Black-red mist throws the man into a broken stone pillar. With a scream, he falls to the ground like a puppet whose strings were just cut. You jerk your head toward Sylus with a glare. “Violence should be used strategically,” He says with a shrug, calmly wiping the blood off of his face as the mist disappears from his hands.

“I would’ve believed you if your hands were clean,” You grumble with a small sigh, annoyed that you have to fight in heels– which is insane by the way. You’ve almost fallen over so many times.

Despite the venue being cleared, strong energy fluctuations manifest above you both and shake the ground you stand on. “What’s making that noise? Are there still some left?” You rub the back of your neck, before remembering that the henchman was talking about something being their backup plan.

“Let’s go.” Sylus turns to walk away and you throw your hands up in annoyance, “Where are we going?” The older man grabs your wrist and swiftly starts walking. “To the place that has what you want,” He says, his fingers deftly wrapped around your wrist.

The almost transparent elevator quickly ascends and the colourful night-time scenery is obscured by the clouds. The elevator doors creak open on the roof and your eyes widen as you notice the huge wormhole in the sky.

A sense of panic and foreboding claws at your chest from the image of something huge and alien-looking in the sky.

“What is this place..?” You manage to say as you both step out from the elevator and onto the dilapidated roof. Countless pieces of metal are strewn across the spacious rooftop. The area around you was shrouded in mist and in the haze, barely visible, are abandoned collection vessels, transporters, and other devices.

Broken steel bars poke out from the overgrown weeds. Rusty frames are propped up, outlining a bygone era. “It looks like a laboratory for experiments or something..” You murmur, hands gripping your guns tighter.

“It was one many years ago. But they abandoned it a while back,” Sylus finally answers, turning to look at you with his thumbs in his pockets. “They?” You parrot, head cocking to the side. Stepping over broken fragments and glass shards, Sylus’ tone remains aloof, “EVER.”

You pause at that bit of information. The EVER Cooperation? They were the leading force of intelligence in Linkon. Doing all kinds of research and good. Why were they ever in the N109 Zone?

As the most prestigious international business group, it basically supports the whole of Linkon City. So…how could they be involved with the N109 Zone?

“...I heard that before the Chronorift Catastrophe, the N109 Zone was the most prosperous tech hub so I guess it makes sense that EVER used it as a research base.” You say as you nod your head, managing to make sense of it before Sylus tears that thought down, “You really are a naive Linkon citizen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise a brow. Hell, you weren’t even a real Linkon citizen to begin with. You weren’t even from here. You were just going off what you knew from the game itself!

Sylus gives you a look, crossing his arms over his chest, “Many locations were affected by that catastrophe, yet only the N109 Zone turned into a wasteland. Why do you think that is?”

Ohh…You recall some unverified theories, but your mind is a mess right now. You can’t think of anything useful to this situation.

“We’re here.” Sylus stops walking and you almost run into his firm back.

Slow vibrations resembling heartbeats pulsate through the sky and you look up to see the Deepspace Tunnel– at least that’s what you assume it is. You’ve never seen one since being in the game, after all, but it must be that, since you had no other explanation. It was eerily beautiful.

Dense clouds and vortexes churn amidst the darkness and occasionally, a stream of light flashes across the night sky like heat lightning. The silent tunnel is like a telescope peeking into the universe.

“The Deepspace Tunnel…This is the first time I’ve been so close to it,” You murmur, taking a deep breath as tiny beams of light enter your line of sight. You can’t help, but take a step closer– before you notice a stone fixture. “It’s a Flux Nexus. I saw one in the no-hunt zone!” You exclaim, remembering what it looked like from that one mission with Xavier, before you entered the game.

“Then you should know what it contains. These fluctuations aren’t produced by normal protocores,” Sylus says from next to you and you nod your head.

The aether core.

Sylus stands next to you, looking at you with his eyes that have unfathomable depths. “Think about it first. Once you take it out, there’s no going back.” You take a deep breath. You’re already here, why would you give up now?

Gritting your teeth, you put your hand on the Flux Nexus’s intricate patterns. The power of resonance instantly flows through your body and dazzling light seeps out from your palm. A shiny, floating gem appears from the slab. “The aether core..” You reach out to touch it and as soon as your fingers brush against it, the ground starts to shake violently.

A storm appears.

Violent fluctuations lash out from the Deepspace Tunnel’s entrance. A huge shadow emerges from the vortex. It’s getting closer and closer. Its wings blot out all light in the sky.

“Is this…the backup plan they were talking about?!” You quickly turn toward Sylus, worriedly, and he chuckles, “We finally get something presentable.” A huge protofield unfolds before you and then, the ferocious wanderer charges toward you both at breakneck speed.

It’s a large blue-black bird, an Arbiterwings. It might be a bit difficult to take on without resonating with Sylus, so you’d have to try. Its feathers were made of crystalized metaflux, so it seems like that would be the way to take it down, destroy the feathers and the bird will fall.

A blinding light comes from your palm as you press it against Sylus’ shoulder, concentrating on resonating with him as the bird flew about in the dark red protofield. Finally– You break apart from Sylus and hold your guns up. “Ready?” You ask and without waiting for his response, you begin shooting at the bird.

The first didn’t take too long, maybe four or five minutes at most but, once it was over, you quickly turn to look at Sylus excitedly before you realize you’re not on the roof...

What...

The scenery before you is blurry, but you can make out that it’s a war ravaged, desolate planet.

“Where…am I?” You mumble to yourself as you look around.

All you can see is darkness. The sky is dark with smoke pluming from the burning planet, cracks in the ground reveal bright reddish orange magma.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest as your gaze slowly moves down to your trembling, bloody hands.

“There’s…so much..blood.” Why were your hands so bloody? What was going on?

“You must press on.” Sylus? You quickly look around, tears pricking your eyes in your terror, desperate to see a familiar face in this hellscape.

But you can barely make out the figure in front of you. His blurry figure seemed to have corroded crystals growing on his shoulders, neck, and lower half. You could see his bare chest with dark blue and purple veins clearly visible. “That’s..” You murmur, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Was he turning into a wanderer like those people from before?

You felt his thin, spindly hand squeeze yours around the hilt of the sword that was plunged into his chest.

“Because…if you don’t..There’s no going back.”

His voice was coming from this thing?

Your hands shake as you realize you stabbed Sylus and you have no idea why. Seriously— What's going on?

“Sylus–” An inferno blazes before your eyes, your vision blurring and amidst the blood and fire, the Deepspace Tunnel appears. It shakes violently. “Y/n, you must press on.” You flinch as a red electrical current strikes before your eyes and once your vision clears, you notice Sylus is holding his hand out toward you.

“The life you owe me– now is not the time to repay it.” He says and as you look at the hand reaching out toward you.

You see Sylus’s cold face..there was a hint of worry beneath his usual gaze. But there also seems to be a shadow above him. You can’t help but reach out as well.

Unprecedented power swells between your intertwined fingers and, instantly, you feel a tremor from deep within your heart. Something flows through your veins. The wanderer’s dissipating particles fall like a misty rain, yet a brighter light pierces through the haze.

You lift your free hand up to shield your eyes from the light, your eyes squinting as you tried to make out where the light was coming from. The aether core emits countless rays of golden light that seeps into your chest. The warm, familiar power continues to surge.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when the fluctuations around your body slowly start to subside. The movements within your body cease. It’s as if an ocean’s roaring waves have silently calmed down, turning into ripples on a lake’s surface.

A tiny golden stone hovers in the sky above your head and you reach out for it, holding it between your thumb and index finger.

“So this is the aether core…” It shines for a moment before a crack appears on it. You quickly turn toward Sylus in shock, noticing he’s looking up at the sky. “...Sylus?” You question and he closes his eyes before saying, “Its power belongs to you now. Naturally, the vessel will break as a result.”

“To...me?” You raise a brow as the white haired man looks at you. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asks, looking away from you. He turns his back to you to walk away with you being dragged behind him.

“Hey! Where are you taking me?” You say, exasperated. Your feet hurt from wearing your heels all day and fighting in them. “Wait– This is...?” He stops walking as you stare down at your hands with wide eyes. He wasn’t even grabbing your wrist.

He lifts your hands with a small sigh, an invisible force binding them together. He shakes his arm back and forth, your hand being forced to move with him. “Let go already!” You groan, glaring at your arms as you notice they weren’t even that close together. They were a few inches apart, so why were they stuck together?

Then, a deep orange light swirls between your hands. The light circles around both your wrists with a string connecting the circle together like handcuffs. “What…is this thing?” You question, tugging at your hand before looking up at Sylus, who sighs.

He doesn’t respond and the powerful tremor that shook the Deepspace Tunnel ignites a chain reaction within the N109 Zone.

Those shadows, who believed they controlled Onychinus, are eliminated from fate’s tapestry. Unable to see the undercurrents beneath the water’s surface, you can only smell the scent of smoke becoming more poignant as it’s carried by the wind.

Structures crumble and collapse, and Mephisto’s wings pierce through the boundless darkness. He’s accompanied by the distant tolling of a bell.

It’s almost like an announcement, as if the world is saying…The true leader of Onychinus has returned.

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes, @mitzkooni, @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog

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downbad4yoongi · 3 months ago

Text

Bound By Magic | Chapter One

🪄Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

🪄AU/Genre: E2L, Magical AU, smut

🪄WC: 11,698

🪄Warnings: smut, minor character death

A/N: This is for @lo1k-diamonds as a part of @bangtanwritershq Sweet Tricks and Wicked Treats exchange.

Thank you to my betas: @colormepurplex2, @moonleeai, and @pars-ley

Summary:

In a world of magic, a centuries-old rivalry exists between two powerful witches. Their mutual animosity is intense, fueled by their constant competition and clashing personalities. Despite their hatred, they are inexplicably drawn to each other's power.

When a dark force threatens the magical realm, they are forced to unite against a common enemy. As they work together, a reluctant respect and attraction grows between them. A pivotal moment, where the witch heals the injured warlock, ignites a powerful connection.

Realizing their intertwined destinies, they embrace their love and combined magic to defeat the darkness. Their newfound unity proves that love can conquer even the deepest-rooted hatred, forging a powerful bond that will shape the future of the magical world.

Chapter One

You stood across the staged area of the arena from your longstanding adversary. You and Namjoon have been at each other’s throats for as long as you can remember. The two of you had been in a constant competition of one-upmanship that others may have considered friendly, but in reality, it was anything but.

The two of you were raised to view the opposite faction as the enemy due to superiority complexes, a mindset that hasn’t budged much for either of you despite those stereotypes being broken down decades ago. Witches’ magickal abilities were rooted in elements and nature, contradicting warlocks' more arcane-based magick.

Eventually, witches and warlocks slowly began collaborating and breaking down the barriers that formerly held strong. This collaboration proved that great things could happen when the two factions worked together instead of against each other. However, you and Namjoon were stubborn and locked in a continuous battle of wills. Every year, you were allowed to best the other at the annual magickal competition, The Spellbound Tournament.

You were fully prepared to show Namjoon who the better spellcaster was when a deafening blast tore through the air, searing heat and blinding light engulfing you. Instinctively, you lifted a shimmering shield against the shock wave that slammed into your body. Chaos erupted around you - panicked screams mingling with the crackle of flames and crumbling stones. As the ringing in your ears subsided, you blinked away the spots dancing before your eyes. The magickal stadium lay in ruins, ancient seats reduced to rubble. Acrid smoke stung your nostrils. Your heart raced wildly, pounding fiercely against your ribcage as if trying to break free, each beat echoing like a war drum in the silence of the moment.

Scanning the destruction, you spotted Namjoon staggering to his feet, robes tattered and face smudged with soot. His sharp gaze locked with yours, a flicker of concern behind the hardened exterior despite his often declared hatred of you. You nodded curtly, conveying a silent check - I'm alive, if not unscathed.

Haneul's voice, a sage wizard that everyone listens to without hesitation, cut through the din, commanding attention. "Quickly! Over here!" They stood atop a jutting stone slab, silver hair whipping around their face.

You and Namjoon picked your way over the rubble and debris, joined by other dazed survivors of the blast. Haneul's eyes, usually placid pools of wisdom, now churned urgently. Aching and battered, most gather in front of Hanuel as others take care of the ones who are gravely injured… or worse.

"This was no mere explosion," they declared gravely. "Wooshik has made his move. Even now, his dark forces mobilize to seize control."

A chill shivered down your spine at the mention of that name - the warlock whose ambitions threatened the very fabric of your world. You exchanged a tense glance with Namjoon, animosity temporarily forgotten in the face of this revelation.

"We...we have to stop him," you managed, voice rough from inhaled smoke. "Whatever it takes."

Haneul nodded solemnly. "Indeed. And it will require the two of you working together." They pierced you and Namjoon with a knowing glare, a glint in their eyes as if seeing a future only they could perceive. "Only your combined strengths can thwart Wooshik's scheme."

Namjoon's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. You could practically feel the waves of reluctance rolling off him, mirroring your own hesitation. Years of rivalry, of traded barbs and clashing magicks, hung between you - a chasm not easily bridged.

But Haneul's words rang with an ominous finality. The fate of everything you held dear hinged upon this tentative alliance with your sworn adversary. Failure was not an option.

Slowly, deliberately, you extended a hand to Namjoon. His obsidian eyes delved into yours, searching for any hint of deceit. You met his probing gaze unflinchingly, willing him to see the grim resolve within.

After a moment that stretched for an eternity, his larger palm enveloped yours. His skin, warm and callused against your own, sent a jolt of awareness through you.

"For the covens," he gritted out. "And the realm."

You squeezed his hand, sealing the pact. "For the realm," you echoed.

As you stood amidst the smoking ruins, hands clasped with your erstwhile enemy, a sense of destiny settled upon your shoulders. The path ahead promised peril and unknown challenges.

But one truth crystallized in your mind, sharp and unassailable - you would face them together or not at all.

A piercing shriek cracked through the air, shattering the newly formed yet fragile peace. Your head snapped up, instincts screaming of imminent danger. Beside you, Namjoon tensed, his hand falling from yours to the hilt of his blade.

From the depths of the swirling clouds of dust and debris, a ghastly creature emerged, its form writhing and shifting like a shadow in the dim light. Its eerie silhouette loomed larger as it stepped forward, eyes glinting with a malevolent glow. Gnarled limbs reached out, each movement echoing the horrors of forgotten nightmares. Its scales shimmered like polished obsidian, capturing and refracting the light in jagged glimmers. Each thunderous step echoed ominously, as razor-sharp talons drove deep into the earth, leaving behind jagged furrows that spoke of its immense power. Those menacing eyes, glowing with a sinister intelligence, locked onto you and Namjoon, radiating an unsettling awareness that sent chills coursing down your spine.

One of Wooshik's twisted creations unleashed to test your newfound alliance.

"Flank it from both sides!" Namjoon barked, his voice ringing with authority.

You moved to obey, along with everyone else, muscle memory overriding the strangeness of taking orders from him. As you circled the beast, your magick hummed beneath your skin, yearning for release.

The creature lunged, a blur of shadow and fury. You lunged aside, feeling the whisper of its claws mere inches from your face. Namjoon retaliated with a blast of arcane energy, but the beast shrugged it off, its hide impervious to single attacks.

"We need to strike together!" you yelled, understanding eventually dawning. "Combine our magick!"

Namjoon's eyes met yours, a split-second of perfect understanding passing between you. You began to weave an intricate spell, your power intertwining with his: fire and ice, light and shadow, two opposites melding into a devastating whole.

The beast charged again, its roar shaking the very ground you stood on. You held your position. Namjoon moved behind you, a solid presence at your back, his arms bracketing yours. At the last possible moment, you released your spell, a searing bolt of energy that struck the creature head-on.

It stumbled, howling in pain and rage. Namjoon pressed, using the advantage, his blade flashing in a deadly arc. The creature's blood sprayed across the shattered earth, black and viscous.

But it wasn't enough. The beast rallied, its wounds knitting together with unnatural speed. It lashed out with its tail, catching Namjoon across the chest and sending him flying.

With a wordless shout, you unleashed the full might of your magick, pouring every ounce of your strength into a final, desperate assault. The air crackled with power, your veins burning with its force.

The creature staggered, its defenses crumbling beneath the onslaught. Namjoon, battered but unbroken, surged to his feet, his blade finding the beast's heart in a single, perfect thrust.

As the creature fell, its dying scream echoing across the battlefield, you sagged to your knees, spent. Namjoon limped to your side, his hand finding your shoulder as he stood over you, hunched forward but managing to stay on his feet.

"We did it," he rasped, his voice tinged with something akin to wonder.

You nodded, too exhausted for words. But as you knelt there amidst the carnage and the chaos, you felt the first stirrings of something new, fragile, and profound.

A connection forged in the heat of battle. A partnership tempered by shared peril and sacrifice.

The dust settled around you, the eerie silence broken only by the ragged sound of your own breathing. Namjoon's hand tightened on your shoulder, his touch a lifeline in the aftermath of the chaos. You met his gaze and saw your own exhaustion and relief mirrored in those fathomless depths.

But there was no time to rest, no moment to savor your victory. The battle was far from over, and Wooshik's forces wouldn’t be far behind. They would need more support if they were ever to defeat Wooshik successfully.

As if summoned by your thoughts, three figures emerged from the shadows, their faces grim with determination. You instantly recognized them - Bae Suzy, Min Yoongi, and Hirai Momo. Momo and Suzy are members of your coven, the Daughters of Gaia, while Yoong is a member of Namjoon’s, The Inkwell Society.

"We came as soon as we heard," Suzy said, her voice low and urgent remorse laced through her voice from not attending the tournament in the first place. "Wooshik's creatures are everywhere, and his power grows by the moment."

Yoongi nodded, his cat-like eyes narrowed. "We have to stop him before it's too late."

Beside you, you watched Namjoon struggle to remain on his feet, but his jaw is set with determination. "Then we will," he said, his voice ringing with conviction as he straightened to his full height. "Together."

Momo stepped forward, her hands already glowing with the telltale shimmer of her healing magick. "Let me help," she murmured, her touch moving over Namjoon, caring for his injuries, before turning her attention to you. She ran her hands over you gently, mending your minor wounds and bruises.

You felt the warmth of her power flowing through you, knitting torn flesh and easing the ache of bruised bones and muscles. But even as your body mended, your mind raced with the enormity of the task before you.

Wooshik was a formidable foe, his mastery of the dark arts unmatched. And yet, as you looked around at the faces of your friends, at the determined set of Namjoon's shoulders, you felt a flicker of hope.

"We can do this," you said, your voice soft but certain. "We have to."

Suzy nodded, her green eyes glinting with resolve. "We'll stand with you," she said, her words a solemn vow. "Until the end."

Yoongi's lips quirked in a wry smile. "Well, let's just hope the end isn't today," he drawled, his dry humor a welcome respite from the tension.

Namjoon's hand found your shoulder again, gripping it firmly in a silent promise. "It won't be," he said, his voice low and fierce. "Not if we have anything to say about it."

And as you stood there, surrounded by your friends and temporary allies' strength and loyalty, you felt a surge of determination. Wooshik may have been powerful, but he had underestimated the true might of your covens.

🪄🪄🪄

You, along with Namjoon and your friends, infiltrated a coven of acolytes known to be loyal to Wooshik and overheard a hushed conversation between two of Wooshik’s most dedicated followers. The witches spoke in hushed tones, their words barely audible over the nearby crackling fire.

“Have you heard the latest from Wooshik?” one of the witches asked. “He’s been searching high and low for that ancient artifact. It is said that it holds the power to reshape reality itself.”

“I’ve heard rumors,” the other replied. “They say it’s hidden deep within the ruins of the Shadow Keep, a place long forgotten by time.”

Hearts pounding with excitement and dread, you knew you had to act quickly. The artifact was the key to stopping Wooshik. From the overheard conversation, you understood that the journey would be full of treacherous terrain, ancient curses, and the watchful eyes of Wooshik’s minions.

Undeterred, you set off on a quest to beat Wooshik to the artifact. The trek was grueling, filled with challenges at every turn. With determination, you all brave numerous treacherous mountain passes, crossed raging rivers and fought off attacks from monstrous creatures lurking in the shadows.

Finally, after days of arduous travel, the ancient ruins appeared before you. The once-grand structures were now crumbling, their spires reaching skyward like skeletal fingers grasping at the churning clouds. The stone walls were now covered in overgrown vines. The legends are undeniable. Seeing it before you, the walls pulsed with the immense power you all knew lay within.

As you drew closer, an unnatural hush fell over your band, a sense of foreboding washed over all of you. The air was heavy with a strange, almost palpable energy, and the ruins seemed to watch you with an eerie silence. A chill ran down your spine as you realized you were not alone. Unseen eyes followed your every move, their presence lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Namjoon moved at your side, his presence comforting in this eerie stillness. Since your battle against Wooshik's beast, a subtle shift had occurred between you - an unspoken understanding, a shared purpose that transcended your rivalry. His gaze met yours, dark eyes reflecting your own unease even as his jaw set with determination.

“We’re almost there,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. “Just a little further.”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. The ruins loomed ahead, their ancient stones casting long, menacing shadows. You shivered as you recalled the words of the acolytes who had led you here.

As you drew closer, the air grew even more oppressive. The once-vibrant colors of the forest seemed to fade, replaced by a sickly pallor. A low, guttural growl echoed from the depths of the ruins.

“Something’s wrong,” Namjoon said with his voice low. He tightened his grip on his sword, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the darkness ahead. It was a monstrous creature, its body a grotesque amalgamation of human and beast. Its eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and its claws dripped with a foul, green substance, yet traces of its origin alluded to its fall from grace.

“A fallen guardian,” Namjoon hissed. “We have to be careful.”

With widened eyes, Momo gulps, “That doesn’t look like any guardian I’ve ever seen.”

Namjoon’s mouth flattened into a grim line. “Unfortunately, this one has been possessed and twisted into this demented creature.”

The creature let out a blood-curdling roar and lunged at your group. Namjoon met it with a flurry of sword strikes, his movements swift and precise. But the creature was incredibly strong, and it knocked Namjoon off his feet.

Before the creature could strike again, you leaped forward, your blade glinting in the moonlight. You managed to deflect the creature’s attack, but the force of the blow sent you reeling backward.

Yoongi, Suzy, and Momo joined the fray. As the creature was about to strike again, Yoongi unleashed a barrage of fireballs, forcing it to retreat. Suzy jumped in with her agility to dodge the creature’s attacks and landed a few blows of her own. Stepping up, Momo released her unique powers - just like she could heal with kind hands, she could use that same magick to find even the most minor injuries and transform them into gaping wounds.

The battle raged on, with the clash of metal on flesh and whizzing blasts of magick echoing through the ruins. You fought with everything you had, fear fueling your determination. Namjoon, Yoongi, Suzy, and Momo also fought valiantly, their combined skills a formidable force against the monstrous creature.

You all fought with a ferocity that surprised even yourselves, the bond between your alliance growing stronger with each passing moment. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you managed to land the critical blow that brought the beast to its knees. With a final agonizing roar, it collapses to the ground, finally dead.

The air was now thick with the stench of blood and sweat, and the ruins were bathed in a haunting silence. Now exhausted but triumphant, you leaned against each other, struggling to remain on your feet. You braced yourselves and prepared for what lay ahead, sure this would not be the last hurdle.

Yoongi’s rasp finally broke the silence, “We did it.”

You all moved deeper into the ruins, hearts pounding anxiously. You knew the artifact was close and were determined to retrieve it before Wooshik could get his hands on it.

The path led you through a series of winding corridors, each one more labyrinthine than the last. The air was thick with dust, the faint smell of decay, and strange, alien symbols carved into the walls.

Finally, you came to a large, circular chamber. In the center of the chamber was a pedestal, upon which rested a glowing orb. The sphere pulsed with an otherworldly energy, and a sense of awe washed over you and your friends as you gazed upon it.

“This must be it,” Suzy breathed, her voice filled with wonder.

Before you could touch it, a sinister chuckle echoed through the chamber. A figure emerged from the shadows, his form shrouded in darkness. Wooshik. His eyes glowed with a malevolent light.

“So, you’ve finally found it,” he taunted, his voice dripping with venom. “But it is too late. The artifact is mine now. Thank you for finding it for me.” You glower at him, the links clicking into place that you were used. A pawn in his game to find what he had sought for years since his corruptness prevented him from knowing where to find it.

Namjoon stepped forward, placing himself between you and the dark warlock, a former member of his coven. No one had seen hide nor hair of him since he disappeared a few years ago after absconding away with The Crimson Grimoire, an ancient tome containing dark magick. "Your schemes end here, Wooshik," he snarled, power crackling around his clenched fists.

Wooshik raised his hand, a wave of dark energy seeping from his palm. The air seemed to vibrate with the force of his malice as several more warlocks stepped out from the shadows behind him.

Namjoon's hand found yours, gripping tightly. You met his gaze and saw the grim determination etched into every line of his face. In that moment, you understood each other perfectly - no matter what came next, you would face it together.

As one, you grabbed your wands, power surging through you like a raging flood. Suzy, Yoongi, and Momo fell into formation beside you, their magicks intertwining with yours until the very stones trembled beneath your feet.

Wooshik's face contorted in a rictus of rage, his eyes twin pits of obsidian madness. "You cannot stop me!" he roared, his voice reverberating through the chamber. "I will tear the power from your broken bodies and ascend to godhood!"

"Never!" Namjoon gritted out. “We will fight you to our last breath!"

Wooshik raised his hands, dark energy coalescing around him. The ground beneath your feet began to crack and splinter, the ancient ruins groaning as if in agony.

Namjoon's eyes met yours, a wealth of understanding passing between you in that split second. You knew what needed to be done, the sacrifice that victory would demand.

“Fine. Go ahead and cosign your death certificates. I am destined for godhood, for glory eternal.”

You prepared to defend yourselves but weren’t ready for the immense power emanating from Wooshik. Before you could strike first, a wave of energy threw everyone to the ground, adding to the injuries on your already battered and bruised bodies.

Just as Wooshik was about to seize the artifact, a blinding light filled the chamber. Looking up, eyes squinting and hand thrown up to lessen the intense light, a figure stood before them, clad in shimmering robes and radiating an aura of pure power. It was the ancient guardian of the artifact, awakened from its slumber by Wooshik’s intrusion.

The guardian raised his hand, and a beam of pure energy shot forth from his palm, striking Wooshik with a devastating force and sending him flying backward.

With a groan, Wooshik achingly moved to sit up. “This…is impossible,” he gasped, his once commanding voice reduced to a wheezing rattle. “I am destined for godhood, for glory eternal…”

Namjoon shook his head, grim satisfaction in his eyes as he watched his foe crumble before the guardian here to defend the obscure artifact. “Your only destiny is oblivion, Wooshik. You’ve sown nothing but suffering and ruin. Now, you’ll reap the consequences.”

Wooshik’s eyes bulged, his handsome face contorting into a mask of pure hatred. With a final, desperate howl, he lunged to his feet and rushed at your group, hands outstretched like claws seeking to rend and tear.

But his strength was spent, his power broken. Yoongi’s blade flashed in a silver arc, biting deep into the dark warlock’s chest. Wooshik staggered back, a look of almost comical surprise on his face as he glanced down at the blooming crimson stain.

Before Yoongi could strike the killing blow, the remainder of Wooshik’s men grabbed the injured foe and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The guardian turned to the remaining witches and warlocks, his eyes filled with a serene light. He gestured towards the artifact, and a gentle, unseen force lifted it into the air. The orb hovered above the guardian for a moment, then descended into his outstretched palm.

“Take it,” the guardian encouraged, his voice echoing through the chamber. “It is yours to protect.”

With wide, blinking eyes, you took the mysterious artifact from the guardian’s hand. A wave of power surged through you, filling you with a newfound strength and determination.

The guardian faded away as you stepped away from the dais. You turned back to the group, your eyes meeting theirs. A silent understanding passed between you. All of you knew that this fight was far from over.

🪄🪄🪄

Hours later, you all settled around a campfire, nursing your wounds.

Namjoon looked at you as you both stood off to the side near where your tents were set up—something unreadable flickering in the depths of his dark eyes. “Well, at least we managed to injure him gravely. That should buy us time to recoup and end him for good,” he rasped, his voice hoarse from shouting.

You nodded, your heart heavy with a mixture of relief and dread. The battle had been exhausting both physically and emotionally. You were unsure if you had the strength to face Wooshik again, especially not after almost losing today.

His large hands cupped your shoulders, gently running his palms down your arms. “You’ve been quiet.”

You looked up, sadness echoing in your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about what happened. About how close we came to losing.”

“I’m scared, too,” Namjoon admitted. “Scared that we won’t be able to stop Wooshik. Scared that we’ll all die.”

You reached up, pulling his hand from your shoulder and cupping it in yours. “We won’t die,” you reassured, your voice firm. We’re too strong, too determined.”

A small smile spread his plump lips. “You’re right. We are.” A flicker of hope returned to his eyes.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Namjoon leaned down, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His breath ghosted across your lips, and a gasp caught in your throat, a sudden swell of emotion threatening to overwhelm you. The walls you had so carefully constructed, the barriers you had erected to keep him at a distance, crumbled in the face of his raw honesty.

"Namjoon, I..." Your words trailed off, lost in the depths of his gaze.

And then, before you could think and he could second-guess himself, he was kissing you. His soft and insistent lips pressed against yours with a desperate urgency, a need that mirrored the ache in your own heart. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you surrendered to the sensation, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

The kiss was electric, a spark that ignited a fire within you. Years of tension, of unspoken longing, poured into that single, searing moment. You could taste the salt of his sweat, the coppery tang of blood, but beneath it all, there was something else: something sweet and intoxicating, a promise of what could be.

"Ahem." A pointed cough shattered the spell, and you jerked apart, your cheeks flushed and your heart racing.

Suzy, Yoongi, and Momo sat a few feet away, their expressions a mix of surprise, amusement, and concern. Suzy's eyebrows were raised, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. Yoongi's face was carefully neutral, but you could see the calculations whirring behind his eyes. And Momo... Momo looked torn. Her gaze darted between you and Namjoon with a flicker of worry in her eyes.

"Well, that was... unexpected," Suzy drawled, her voice laced with barely contained laughter.

You felt heat rising in your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and defiance. "I... we..."

"It's not what you think," Namjoon said, his voice steady despite the tension in his shoulders. "We were just... caught up in the moment."

Yoongi's eyes narrowed, his gaze probing. "And what, exactly, is this moment going to mean for our mission? For our team?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. You swallowed hard, your mind racing. What did this mean? For you, for Namjoon, for the battle that lay ahead?

"It means," you said slowly, choosing your words carefully, "that we're stronger together. That we'll face whatever comes, side by side."

Namjoon nodded in silent affirmation.

The peace you all had found as you rested, recouping from the long day, for the night was short-lived. A sudden, searing pain lanced through your skull, driving you to your knees. Distantly, you heard Namjoon cry out and felt his hands on your shoulders as he, too, crumpled under the onslaught.

Images flashed behind your eyelids, vivid and disjointed. A towering citadel, wreathed in shadow. Wooshik, his face contorted in a rictus of mad triumph. And a figure, cloaked and hooded, standing at the dark warlock's side.

As abruptly as it had come, the vision receded, leaving you gasping and disoriented. Namjoon's face swam into focus above you, his eyes wide with concern and a reflection of the same haunted knowledge.

"What… what was that?" Suzy demanded, her voice shaking slightly as she helped Momo to her feet.

"A warning," you managed, your tongue thick and clumsy in your mouth. "Wooshik… he's not alone. He has an ally, someone powerful."

Namjoon nodded grimly, his hand finding yours and gripping tight. "I saw it too. A dark citadel and a figure in the shadows..."

Yoongi's brow furrowed. "Another warlock? Or something worse?"

You shook your head, frustration welling in your chest. "I don't know. But whatever it is, we're running out of time. We need to get back to the others and warn them."

Chapter Two

#bangtanwhq #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts #bts fanfiction #kim namjoon #witches #kim namjoon x reader #min yoongi #hirai momo #magical au

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the-starlit-authoress · 10 months ago

Text

Chance

Part Two

Villain coughed as they pulled themself out of the wreckage. The wreckage the heroes caused, but would surely be blamed on them in tomorrow's news. Their knees gave out immediately the first time they tried to stand, pain went shooting through their side.

Sitting on the ground, they surveyed the damage. There was a gruesome gash on their side, probably caused by the broken chunks of stone ceiling they had been buried under. Their ribs were probably fractured, if not broken.

Carefully, ever so carefully, they managed to stand up. With a hand clutching their side they started limping in the vague direction of their base, planning to get home, do the bare minimum required to treat their wounds and pass out.

And that's when they heard it.

Crying. A baby crying. It sounded close. Too close.

It only took a minute or two of looking around to find the source of the sound. It was a struggle to lift the debris given the state they were in, but Villain managed. It was in fact a baby, and probably the only reason it had survived was because who Villain assumed to be its mother had used herself to shield it. They frowned at the sight. Another causality caused by heroes' disregard for civilians. This too, would probably be blamed on them.

Villain wasn't sure what to do. They couldn't take the child in somewhere, they'd be arrested on the spot. And they couldn't leave it here either, who knows when someone would come back to clean up the mess. It wouldn't survive here on its own.

They really only had one option.

"Uh, hey there, little buddy." the Villain said awkwardly as they tried to scoop the wailing baby up into their injured arms. "could you maybe, uh, stop crying? Please? It's a long walk back to my house and I'd rather not draw attention..."

Unsurprisingly, the baby did not comply.

They frowned but didn't know what else to do. What they did know was if they stood here much longer their legs were gonna give out again. So they began the slow, and painful, trek home.

Eventually, the baby did stop crying. Perhaps it just exhausted itself. Whatever the reason, Villain was grateful. By the time they made it home the baby had fallen asleep. They laid it down on the sofa and dragged themself to the bathroom to deal with the gash in their side, the rest could wait until they rested.

When they came back, the baby was awake and crying again. They gathered it into their arms and sunk into the couch. "....Sorry about your mom little guy. The heroes are pretty reckless."

They could feel themself getting closer to passing out. "You're lucky I found you, though it was purely by chance....Chance, huh? That seems like a pretty good name for you."

Their eyelids slipped closed as they fell asleep with the baby in their arms and mumbled. "Welcome to the dark side, Chance."

#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero and villain prompts #writing #villain and hero #Hero and villain #hero and villain community #corrupt hero #hero agency #good villain #accidental adoption #parent villain #reckless hero

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loupy-mongoose · 2 years ago

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To Clear Up Confusion About Randy.

So, for some reason there's a sudden surge of confusion about Randy. It's understandable--The whole thing can be very confusing, even if you read the Lab Arc where the switch happened. It's just a little weird to me that suddenly a few different people have asked me about it in a short span of time. XD

So I thought I'd fix something up to explain what happened.

Now, if you haven't yet read it yet and want to with minimal spoilers, click the link. (Or try here if that one doesn't work.) This will MASSIVELY spoil the story, as will just hanging around my blog in general.

So.

The human Randall Linden was working at a lab in Hoenn with his friend, a shiny Mew named Akoya, and later meets a regular Mew named Mo. Mo is the Mew that becomes Randy.

Eventually Akoya got pregnant. But the people of the lab tampered with the fetus to create a Mewtwo, that Randy named Lavender, which nearly killed Akoya.

At the end of the Lab Arc, the human Randy and the Mew Mo go to destroy the computers of the lab in hopes of destroying the info they had gathered to create Lavender.

But there is an explosion that traps the human Randy under burning debris. Seeing that his friend is going to die, Mo Psychically "downloads" Randy's memories, which end up replacing Mo's memories.

The human Randall died in the fire at the age of 28.

Mo the Mew essentially died as well, having no memories of his life as a Mew.

The being that is Randy in the present day story was once Mo, but now cannot live a such. So he lives and identifies as Randy, but has a lot of internal conflict in doing so.

His species is now technically Mew, but he often uses Transform to be human.

His human form is a nearly perfect copy of the human who died in the fire--The one difference is his eyes, which went from brown and needing glasses to blue with good/perfect vision.

And if there's question about what's going on with their souls... That'll be answered at a later point.

About his role as father.

The human Randy had no kids before dying in the fire.

Years after the fire, as a Mew, he and Akoya did have kids together; the twins, Monique (Momo) and Midas. The parents were both in Mew form when they did the deed. (In the future they will also have a daughter this way.)

Randy is their biological father whether he's in human form or Mew form.

Lavender is not biologically his daughter, and she well knows it, but they still see each other as father and daughter.

Hope that clears it up some! If people are still confused, I can attempt to illustrate it like TC's Professor Mew, but I don't really want to have to do that. XD

#Pokemon #Linden Roots #Once again changed the age to reflect the timeline.#Toyhouse had it that he died at 29 #but he wasn't yet #I think #Numbers are not my strong point lol

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saltyowlets · 21 days ago

Note

Happy Friday! For Theo/Alistair, might I suggest "a tune you almost forgot" from the nostalgia prompts?

Thank you ❤️❤️❤️ I got oddly into this one

Ship: F!SuranaxAlistair

@dadrunkwriting

He never thought he would hear that melody again. It was a simple one, barely even a song, but the repeating motif always seemed to lull him into a comforting sigh. Many nights Alistair tried to conjure the melody in his head, pick apart his memories for the scraps of notes that got lost over the years. Yet here it was, beautiful, light, weaving along the rustling trees and whistling winds, kicking up emotions in Alistair, almost to the point of crying.

He stumbled through the woods, following the sound with the same desperation of a lost child. Eventually, he reached a small clearing and was greeted by the sight of his fellow Warden, Theo, who seemed to be absentmindedly gathering mushrooms and greens. She was singing the tune perfectly, not losing a beat through the rhythm.

Even if they knew each other for a few weeks by now, her voice still sounded strange to him. Maybe it was because she rarely talked, relying mostly on grunts and gestures to get her point across. Efficient if not a bit challenging to understand.

Alistair was so enraptured by the song that he didn't noticed the large tree root that stuck up from the ground until he tripped over it with a yelp, landing face down into the moist dirt. Theo had stopped humming and rushed to him to poke his head.

"Uh, you still alive?" Theo asked in what sounded like a teasing voice. Dare he even call it cute?

"I wish I wasn't," Alistair replied embarrassingly. He removed his face from the ground and looked up at her with a sheepish smile. He could tell there was muck smothered over his face, especially with the grin Theo seemed to try so hard to hide. She reached over to remove a few chunks of dirt and leaves from his face and hair.

"So tell me why you wanted to kiss the ground?" Alistair grumbled as he pushed himself up, patting away the wet debris from his clothes.

"Oh, just doing my due diligence of paying respect to the earth. You know, normal things." Theo's left ear flickered, but her face remained stoic. He really needed a way to read her- he could never tell if she liked his jokes.

Alistair stood there awkwardly, unsure how to ask her about her singing. Would it sound weird if he told her that it was something from his dreams? A bit too flirty if you asked him.

"So why are you just staring at me?" Theo's words broke through his thoughts as he realize that he was staring. Alistair rubbed his neck embarrassingly.

"Oh, uh- so that song. I might have heard it before?" Theo raised her brows. She tilted her head and looked at him interestingly, as if debating her options for whatever reason.

"Have you been to the alienages?" Alistair gave her a confused look.

"Um, no. What does that have to-"

"Its a folk song city elves sing. We usually sing it to babies. Kind of a lullaby," Theo explained. Alistair stayed silent, the realization dawn on him. That explains alot.

Alistair let out a sigh before smiling at Theo.

"Thanks." She nodded but her eyes seemed to dart around his face, specifically his ears. Her expression changed to something he couldn't place.

"Would you like me to teach you the words?" He looked at her, taken aback. They both stayed silent for a moment, letting the winds blow through between them. Theo's bangs few across her face before she tucked them behind her pointed ears.

"Yes, I would like that," he replied. Theo's face broke into a wide grin that Alistair thought suited her.

#dragon age #dragon age origins #alistair x surana #alistair theirin #alistair x warden #warden surana #theo surana #dadwc #da ship: frost touched roses #dragon age fanfiction

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huli-jinx · 6 months ago

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Original PMMM Witches:

Hexian:

Witch of Curses and Hexes

Nature: Vengeful

A witch that feels wronged by the world. Wanting to get revenge, Hexian lures her humans into her labyrinth and tortures them before killing them. Hexian is a large cauldron with small holes where she excretes a multitude of liquids that are gathered by her Minions and used against any humans. The liquids have similar symptoms but always ensure death. It doesn't matter whether the human receives medical attention, they will die no matter what. In the center of her labyrinth, Hexian sits atop a large mound. Her labyrinth is a maze-like place with broken glass and ruined walls that can easily be bypassed. It is advised that magical girls attacking this witch have a healer among them or have a healing ability.

Minion(s):

Absinthe: An enchanting butterfly with poisonous wings that lures humans further into the labyrinth.

Ketil: A cauldron creature that gathers up the liquid from Hexian and runs around her labyrinth looking for humans to spray.

Larissa:

Witch of Moons

Nature: Wanning

A witch that feels drained by the world. Watching the suffering of others, Larissa felt helpless to offer any support and make any lasting change. However, Larissa still hopes to eventually make a change, no matter how small. Larissa is a spectral figure that wears tattered robes and wanders, lost in thought. Her attacks are weak and lack ferocity, but often gain in strength after consuming the life force of anyone or anything that wanders into her labyrinth. Her labyrinth is littered with debris and broken weapons with signs of neglect. It is desolate and despondent, but there are places within the labyrinth that offer nostalgia for the witch, offering her both comfort and pain. Many humans will die of starvation. Those who escape the labyrinth will face a sharp decline in their mental health. While it is easy for many magical girls to defeat Larissa, it is finding her that is the problem.

Minion(s):

Portia: Continually brings humans to her witch to drain their life force, hoping to prolong her life just long enough.

Spectre: Twisted souls of the individuals that had their life force drained by the witch.

Gisela:

Witch of Parties

Nature: Forgetful

A witch that feels unconcerned about the world outside of her labyrinth. Long since forgetting her purpose or why she was despairing, all Gisela wants is to party and have fun. Gisela continually forgets anything and everything that doesn’t pertain to parties or what she considers fun. Gisela is a pinata that is impossibly fast but often plays with humans when they wander in. At times, when Gisela is extremely excited or afraid, she will release streamers that will trap anyone nearby. Many humans will die of exhaustion or starvation. Her labyrinth will appear as either a fun house or a club, depending on the age of the human who wanders in. When taking on this witch, it is recommended that magical girls attempt to restrain or slow down the witch to defeat her.

Minion(s):

Jubilee: Impish creatures that resemble colorful party poppers that go off at different intervals, often confusing and disorienting nearby people.

Furette Elise:

Witch of Festivals

Nature: Obsessive

A witch that feels that she needs to get everything right for a festival. After getting accused of ruining a festival, Furette Elise has become obsessed with recreating this festival but in a perfect manner. Furette Elise is a porcelain doll in a suit with a clipboard and pen. If she feels that someone, whether a human, magical girl or minion, has ruined the festival, she will target and kill them. Depending on the offense, Furette Elise will either draw out the death to make an example out of them or swiftly end them on the spot. Since her body is fragile, Furette Elise often sends her “security guards” to deal with any disturbances. When taking on Furette Elise, magical girls should go with a partner or be hyperaware of their surroundings.

Minion(s):

Nater: Furette Elise’s security. Deals with anyone who poses a threat to the festival and Furette Elise herself.

Herling: The personnel of Furette Elise’s festival. They do all of the work, set up, and performances.

Corrine de Beauchêne:

Witch of Lamplights

Nature: Anger

A witch that feels wronged by the world. Infuriated at the injustices she witnessed and experienced, Corrine de Beauchêne seeks to exact justice on those she considers corrupt. Corrine de Beauchêne is a yarn fox with a flaming head. She is as elusive as she is powerful. Those who wander in and are deemed corrupt struggle to find a way out and end up dying a gruesome death. But those who are deemed innocent can find the exit of the labyrinth soon after entering. Her labyrinth is a forest filled with twisted, gnarly trees and dead plants. When taking on this witch, magical girls should be wary about their surroundings and what their attacking.

Minion(s):

Illusia: Its true form is unknown but it takes on many forms to trick those considered corrupt and magical girls

Jinx: Cats that have different colored pelts depending on what the spell is and often travel in packs

Roxanne:

Witch of Clouds

Nature: Quiet

A witch whose dreams of being a singer were silenced. Disillusioned by constant rejection, Roxanne precariously lives her dream through Lyre. Roxanne is a tall figure swirling with clouds dressed in a torn black gown with knotted hair and whose face is covered in broken mirrors. Roxanne enjoys the music Lyre makes, but longs to do it as she is unable to do so. Sometimes, Roxanne would attack Lyre, killing her. If any human disrupts the music, either Roxanne or Echo will find them and kill them swiftly. Her labyrinth is a twisted maze of corridors with no clear path to follow. At the center of the maze, there is a large stage where Roxanne stands surrounded by a large group of Lyre. It is recommended that magical girls fighting Roxanne target the mirrors on her face, as those are her weak points.

Minion(s):

Lyre: Sings and creates music for Roxanne. She looks like the witch but carries the lyre.

Echo: An impish creature who rebounds and reverberates Lyre’s songs, further confusing and disorienting victims.

Quiltaria:

Witch of Weaving

Nature: Isolating

A witch whose career as a weaver has been controlled by others at every turn. Feeling out of control and needing to regain it, Quiltaria has turned to isolating herself as much as she can to regain that feeling of control. Quiltaria is tall and draped in a cloak made of various clothes, her hair is made up of ribbons and threads, her face is covered in a veil, and she holds a metal staff with needles jutting out on the top. Her labyrinth is floating islands against a patchwork of blue quilt patches. The islands were connected by bridges made of ropes, steel, and other amalgamations of random materials. On the largest island, which appears to be the center, stands Quiltaria imposingly. Magical girls should be careful as Quiltaria is known for her intricate tapestries. It is recommended that magical girls should use powerful, direct attacks on the witch.

Minion(s):

Papyri: a bird made up of paper, books, and/or pens that scouts the labyrinth and attacks any humans

Embroiderous: A small needle decorator that creates beautiful embroidery patterns and puts them up around the labyrinth

#pmmm #pmmm fandom #madoka magika #madoka magica #puella magi madoka magica #mahou shoujo madoka magica #pmmm witches #pmmm witch #madoka magica witch #madoka magica witches #pmmm original witches #madoka magica original witches #madoka magica fandom #original witches #original witch

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darklydeliciousdesires · 3 months ago

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The Theatre - A Vampire!John Shelby/Polly Gray One Shot Story.

I wanted to have this finished last night, guys, but I wasn't really up to writing by the time I'd finally sat down. So, here it is now. Enjoy.

Words - 1,647

Warnings - None. Though John is a vampire, there is nothing gory, just sadness from both sides as he and Polly meet again.

Polly knew the building she carefully entered of old, even though the once grand theatre had long been abandoned. It was the place where fastidiously saved shillings would be spent, best clothes donned, holding her father’s tobacco-scented hand as she trotted up the steps excitedly, ready to see whatever play was being held there.

“Holy shit!” Her startled exclamation cut through the desolate quiet, a pigeon low flying in its bid for freedom through the door she’d just pulled open. There had certainly been none of those flying around when she’d visited there as a child. Scanning around, she was filled with a sense of nostalgia tinged with sadness, the beautiful building now lain to waste, a lack of care and upkeep over time as well as the obvious desecration performed by hoodlums adding to the overall decay of a once splendorous venue.

It smelled of death, too. However, such an odour had nothing to do with the theatre itself.

“I know you’re here.”

Her words echoed through the grand hall, the high ceiling ripped open upon the huge dome, a blueish silver beam of moonlight pouring in through the hole. “You can’t hide from me forever, our John.”

He’d been missing for months, the family worried sick for him, accusations thrown in every direction over who the perpetrator of his demise truly was. Because John wouldn’t simply vanish without a trace unless something nerfarious had happened to him. It wasn’t, Polly realised – and sooner than her nephews – any of the usual suspects, though.

“Love, you’ve got to show yourself eventually,” she called, dusting off one of the seats, its velvet still plush beneath the gathering of fine debris. “I’m not leaving until you come out.”

Resolute as always, she took a seat, crossing her legs. “Ain’t the same without you around, you know. I never thought I’d speak the words, but I miss the noise. Never one for being quiet, were you?” She hummed a chuckle, remembering all the times she’d had to see him into the house on shaky feet, drunk as a lord, singing. Without deviation, his song was always out of tune, but delivered with the kind of infectious mirth that never failed to warm her.

The space remained veiled in silence, but she knew he was there, knew he heard every word. Hell, she could have been standing at the corner of the street outside the green grocers, whispering every one, and he still would have heard her.

“I know what you are, John boy. I know why it is, that you went missing and never returned. If you want to stay away from us, that’s up to you. At least show your face to me once now I’m here.” Her sigh was borne upon a tremored breath, looking around the shabby surroundings once more with eyes that glassed. “I don’t want you to become a memory.”

Whatever left within him that was human couldn’t quite harden to those words, the plea of an aunt broken by it, the love she carried for him so very clear. Polly was rarely soft, her grit and tenacity, her strength and fortitude pouring with the love she felt for her boys. She’d been more like a mother to them and Ada for a long, long time.

“Maybe I should be.”

She blinked, and it was in that single shutter of her eyes that he appeared, down by the stage, the moonlight bathing him. He was even paler than he’d always been. “Come here, John. Let me see you properly.”

He walked to her, moving at the pace of a human, of what he’d once been. Of what he’d never be ever again. “How’d ya find me?”

She almost hadn’t, had it not been for her intuition. The theatre, it hadn’t solely been her special place as a child; John had loved it too. Alas, his trips there had ended at just six years old when it had finally closed its doors, Polly unable to spend that special time with her little nephew of a Saturday afternoon.

It was a fond memory, remembering watching him leaning over the brass guard rails in the upper mezzanine, his eyes sparkling with wonder at the scenes below. He’d laugh until his little belly ached at the antics of the actors; the slapstick comedy plays he treasured so much. Tommy and Arthur were always too rambunctious to sit still for more than five minutes, but John had been different.

Of course, he’d still tear through the streets of Small Heath like a little freckled tornado of chaos, eagerly chasing a football or trundling a hoop, but if something made the child laugh until he cried, his attention could be caught and his little legs slowed down.

“Because I know you, our John,” she smiled, “and I’ll never not know you either. I should have just bloody come straight here when you vanished, should have known instantly you’d be hiding here.”

He nodded, but his face still showed he sought more. “And how’d ya know what I am now?”

It was time. She had to reveal the secret she’d kept for so many years, only half believing it, not wanting to think such could ever befall one of her precious nephews. “You’ve heard me speak of your great aunt before, haven’t you?” she began, taking out her cigarettes and lighting one up, the air perfumed by the scent of cloves.

“Ar, Lorna Boswell, weren’t she?”

“Correct,” she confirmed, drawing fiercely on her smoke. “She read my tea leaves for me, used to do it a lot. Everything she saw, it came true. One evening, she told me of a creature that would come and take away a boy who was precious to me, one with hair like fire and a temperament to match. Ain’t gotta do much work putting two and two together there, eh?”

He laughed softly through his nose, Polly continuing. “She said the creature would be living death, and take the boy away, make him the same, condemn him to the night.” Her breath clouded in the cold, shuddered, her heart fracturing a little further. “Nobody talks of the vampires, but our family, we always knew what they were. Our origins are the same, because we’re Roma people, John, and that’s where they sprung up from all those years ago.”

His brow furrowed a little, but Polly knew there was no real indignance behind it. “And why didn’t you warn me, try and stop it from happening?”

She scoffed softly, standing, walking to where he stood. “Because Lorna also told me that the boy with the hair like fire would seek it willingly, so tell me, who am I to stand in the way of fate?” She had him there, and he knew it. “Ain’t no fucking way a mere mortal can stop something that powerful either, fate aside.”

It was true, but still, standing there in the presence of the one he’d truly ached to leave behind, John hated himself even more for the decision he’d made. “She said I couldn’t come home, Ena, the one who made me like this. Said it’d be too dangerous, with me urges an’ all that.” His eyes saddened, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I can’t come home with you cos’ of that, Pol.”

The weight of it sank in her chest like a stone, a tear slipping from her kohl-blackened eyes. “The blood cravings, I know.” A loving hand touched his cheek, life meeting death, her warmth spreading over his chill. “Whatever you were, you still are to me. Never forget that.”

His hand, chilled and deathly pale, covered hers. “What you gonna tell the family?”

“Whatever you want me to, love.”

“Say you ain’t seen me, just let me be gone for a bit, until I get it under control. Then I’ll come back. Until then, I’ve got this place, ain’t I? All the memories.” He looked up, pointing, the brass rails shining in the moonlight despite the tarnish. “Right there is where we used to sit, watching people clobbering one another, falling over things. Never laughed like I did when I was here with you in me whole life, Pol.”

And he never would again.

“I know, our John. I know.” She clasped his face, pulling him to her level, pressing a kiss of unbreakable love to his forehead. “Want me to come back and see you again, or...”

He shook his head. “Not for a bit.” His hands grasped her shoulders, her human closeness stirring him, but not in the same way it always did. He still had love in his cold, dead heart for her, but the vampiric urges outweighed anything else. His body tingled, the hunger beginning to grow. He couldn’t, though. He wouldn’t. “Go on, get yourself home. Just know I ain’t gonna forget about any of ya. If there’s trouble in the night, I’ll look out for ya.”

Of course, he would. She sighed, stroking his face one more time, her tears flowing as she turned and with the weight of reluctance and sadness weighing her down, left him there in their special place.

If only fate could be fought against. Then again, if it could have been, it would have meant that two weeks from then, she’d have lost a drunken Arthur to being jumped by a gang of Sabini’s men, her wide eyed, wild nephew coming back into the house worse for wear, but alive.

“I dunno, Pol. They was all there, fuckin’ laying into me with lead pipes and batons, giving me a right kicking. Fuckin’ fought ‘em back, though, I did! But then, gone. One by one, they just... vanished!” he boomed, scratching his chin. “I tell ya, someone was watching over me tonight.”

Yes. Someone was. Polly smiled as she stared into the fire, thanking John silently.

#john shelby fanfiction #polly gray fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #polly gray fanfic #john shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic

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moony7drac · 2 months ago

Text

A little while ago, I came up with a whole list of Koopaling AU's...

I usually write/draw pretty wholesome things, and while some of the backstories aren't too pretty,

My god, the idea I got for Ludwig, Iggy, and Roy in the disability AU...

Much like in my main Koopaling (Koopa) AU, they lost their house and their parents.

But, while I have not figured out quite yet what the incident is in that AU, in the disability AU, it was an explosion...

And, well, while it (of course) effected all of them, it effected those three the most...

//TW// loss of bodily functions (if there's a better term, please let me know)

Soooo...

In this AU, their house exploded, and their parents died during it. They were somewhere in the middle of the house, and got buried underneath the rubble of the house. (So much, that there was no way they'd survived...)

But, while not in the middle, Iggy also got dragged down and hit and (partially) covered in rubble of the house. It crushed his lower right arm, and one big piece of rubble cut off blood circulation to his left leg. Both of these injuries were too heavy to be healed, and those two (parts of the) limbs had to be amputated. (He still is a genius inventor in this AU, and eventually, is able to create prosthetics for himself/his missing limbs.)

Meanwhile, Ludwig was busy protecting one of the little/younger ones, shielding them with his own body. His shell got a bit damaged, but they're made to be extremely sturdy, so while it was "just" some damage, this was healable (and it did heal like it's supposed to). But, he had protected the younger one (not sure who yet), by pressing his hands to their ears to lower the sound they'd hear. But, that left him without any ear protection, which caused his eardrums to burst. It was too bad to be healed, and left him permanently deaf.

Roy was busy gathering the rest of the family, and was therefore looking around. While doing this, he was accidentally looking towards the way of the explosion, and got sharp debris 'shot' into his eyes. (Both of them). This also wasn't healable, and in order to not have his body's immune system fight an already lost battle, his eyes had to be removed, which left him blind. (Which is why he wears sunglasses, so that you can't see the empty and sewn shut eyesockets.)

They thankfully get found by Bowser much faster than my main AU though, so that's one good thing?... Nervous laugher.

They lived in the forest near the castle, so the explosion was heard by Bowser, and when there was (at least one) actual scream coming from there, he decided to go investigate. Once he was there, Lemmy (with a sort of help from Morton, although both were just as panicked as Wendy and Larry), was consoling the rest. But Ludwig, Iggy, and Roy had passed out from pain by the point Bowser found them.

So, Bowser took them to the castle and straight to the hospital wing. The youngest three weren't that badly hurt, nor was Lemmy. For them four, it was mostly fear, sadness, panic, all the bad emotions.

But Ludwig, Iggy, and Roy were completely passed out, and had to get immeate checkups, and Iggy and Roy even surgery before things got worse.

But... Just to get nice and deep into that angst...

Just imagine finding yourself in a bed, a white room, that you had never seen before... You feel something familiar. Your little twin brother! He's laying on your chest! Wait... Why can't you pet him like you always do?... Then, when you look down, you see that your entire lower arm is missing!...

Or, perhaps you wake up, in the same weird, unknown white room... And see people you've never seen before. But, why are they shouting, and looking so distressed? And most importantly, why can't you hear them?!...

Or, you're the one that can hear people, mainly voices you've never heard before, but no matter how hard you struggle, you can't seem to open your eyes...

Comment from myself,

My god... This is quite opposite from my usual happy/wholesome stuff...

("Having fun during a food fight or winter or something." vs. "They got into a house explosion, and just lost a big part of their bodily functions.")

#moony7draco #koopalings #ludwig von koopa #iggy koopa #roy koopa #trigger warning

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aita-blorbos · 6 months ago

Note

AITA for Displacing People from Space and Time to Make Them Fight Monsters?

I (They/Them) am an Egregore, though you humans have taken a liking to the term 'Archangel'. Us Archangels are - to describe it simply - personifications of concepts, ideas, & human traits. I had served as a mentor for many of my fellow Archangels, including who we will refer to as A (He/Him) from this point on.

A serves as the embodiment of Conquest and he would travel across the multiverse along with his own band of Archangels. For the most part, he had only played along with the current happenings in each world. But things changed when he killed his own son. After that, his group disbanded, and A craved power more and more. To prevent him from harming humanity on a grand scale, I trapped him as well as several other dangerous Archangels in the realm I exist in. This world used to be a vast expanse of ocean, but debris from across space and time eventually gathered on my form to create a small island.

However, I knew this would only be a temporary fix. So long as humans placed value on conquest and did not resist the urge to enact it, then A would relentlessly search for a way to escape. My next plan was to train you humans. I began to teleport both man and beast onto this island. These people would have to find a way to combat these monsters, and thus they would teach the others how to do so. Generations passed and in order to further their combat prowess I began to send out fusions of these monsters.

Around this time, another human who we'll call C (?) arrived in this world. They, along with some friends of theirs, managed to defeat not just all of the Archangels on the island but even A. Because of this, I now deem it safe to open the way off this island. However, C has requested that I stop sending these fused monsters out. I refused because even though A was defeated he always has a chance to return and people need to be ready. Even so, I cannot overlook the fact that I have, indeed, plucked people from their homes unbeknownst to them. Not only have many people been slain by the monsters but those who survived would eventually succumb to age. I can understand the immorality of this action, but it was necessary to prevent A from destroying the lands and lives of thousands of others.

AITA?

Also, apologies for any spelling mistakes. My assistant/proxy who has been writing this has big claws which makes it rather difficult to type.

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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hd-junglebook · 11 months ago

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Lost

Part 2

word count - 1958

The morning sun began peeking over the horizon, Y/N stirred awake, the blazing sun began beating down on her and the survivors on the exposed beach. The exhausted survivors had all eventually succumbed to sleep right there on the open beach, too drained to find shelter.

Y/N sat up, brushing sand off her clothes as she took in the first light of day. Despite the wreckage scattered down the shoreline, the sunrise over the now calm ocean was peaceful and almost blindingly bright after the dark storm.

Needing to move and gather her thoughts, Y/N decided to take a walk along the water's edge. She hadn't gone far when movement up ahead caught her eye.

As Y/N walked down the beach, she noticed the tall, curly-haired guy with freckles emerging from the tree line carrying coconuts. His muscular arms cradled several coconuts as he made his way towards the makeshift camp. She altered her course and approached him.

"Hey stranger, I don't think we were properly introduced last night. I'm Y/N," she acknowledged, the waves blending into each other behind her.

The guy set down the coconuts and turned to her with a hint of a smirk. "Bellamy. No need for introductions though, I think we're a bit past pleasantries at this point." His tone had a sarcastic edge.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at his snarky remark but continued politely. "Well, still, I wanted to say thanks for your help out there Bellamy. We need to work together if we want to survive." Bellamy let out a derisive huff.

"Yeah, 'cause sitting around singing kumbaya is really going to get us out of this mess. We need to figure out how to actually live out here, princess."

Y/N crossed her arms, put off by his abrasiveness. "Fine, if you have a better idea then please share with the group. Otherwise we could use some more coconuts."

She gave him a challenging look. Bellamy's dark eyes glinted with a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Whatever the hell you want," he retorted.

Y/N shook her head and continued her walk. So much for pleasantries. Bellamy's attitude clearly said he wasn't here to make friends. She hoped they could eventually find some common ground.

---

Y/N headed back to rejoin the group of survivors, hoping to raise the idea of building shelter. When she reached the ragged encampment, she saw Bellamy had already returned and was sitting off to the side looking irritated, as always.

She addressed the crowd. "It's only going to get hotter. We need to start thinking about constructing some basic cover and finding food and water sources." There were murmurs of assent among the group.

"We can use salvaged luggage and plane debris," Y/N continued. "Does anyone have other ideas?"

From his corner, Bellamy scoffed loudly. "Yeah, I've got a question. Who put you in charge, princess? We don't need your orders."

Y/N shot him a glare. "I'm not ordering anyone. I'm trying to help figure out a survival plan, since no one else is taking the initiative."

Bellamy stood up and stalked towards her. "Well maybe we should have an actual vote, instead of letting you appoint yourself leader." His dark eyes bored challengingly into hers.

Tension crackled between them. Before Y/N could respond, another voice spoke up, defusing the situation. The blonde, you found out was named Clarke, suggested a systematic approach to organizing the shocked survivors, and assigning roles.

Clarke approached Y/N separately from the group, her eyes filled with determination. "I saw smoke coming from the woods yesterday," she said, her voice hushed but urgent. "There could be more survivors out there. We should gather a group and head out to search while everyone else works on getting things set up here."

Y/N was taken aback by Clarke's suggestion. She eyed the now working survivors, some of whom were injured and others who were still recovering from the trauma of losing their loved ones.

“We should bring others with us, Bellamy, Jasper, maybe Raven too.” With a swift look around, she sucked in a deep breath before speaking again. “We'll leave in five, okay?” she stated before grabbing her bag.

Y/N headed over to where Bellamy was shirtless, his muscles glistening with sweat as he worked on constructing shelters from the bamboo.

She couldn't help but notice the gun tucked into his waistband. Clearing her throat, Y/N approached him, her gaze flickering briefly to the weapon before meeting his eyes. To her surprise, she found him smiling, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

Y/N wasted no time in getting to the point. "I need you to come with us to the woods," she stated bluntly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "You have a gun, and we might need it out there."

Bellamy's grin widened at her directness, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he nodded exaggeratedly. "Oh, lucky me," he replied with a mockingly enthusiastic tone. "Just what I've always wanted - a chance to play hero in the wilderness."

Despite his sarcastic demeanor, there was a hint of seriousness in Bellamy's expression as he straightened up, his gaze meeting Y/N's with a determined glint.

"Alright, I'll grab my gear," he conceded, his tone more earnest now. "Just give me a minute." With a roll of her eyes, Y/N watched as Bellamy gathered his supplies.

---

The relentless heat of the jungle weighed heavily on Y/N's shoulders as she trudged through the dense foliage alongside Bellamy, Raven, Clarke, and Jasper. The suffocating humidity seemed to sap their energy with every step, but they pressed on, driven by the hope of finding more survivors or supplies.

After what felt like an eternity of trekking through the sweltering wilderness, Y/N's sharp eyes caught a glimpse of something metallic glinting through the thick canopy of trees. “No way.” She exclaimed, she motioned to the others, their pace quickening as they raced towards the source of the glimmering light.

They burst into the clearing, Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sight of the downed plane, its twisted wreckage strewn across the valley, but the cockpit was untouched in the tall trees.

Raven quickly took up a position to keep watch, while Clarke excused herself to tend to a pressing matter, leaving Y/N and Bellamy to investigate the cockpit.

"We need to check the cockpit," she said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Let's go." Bellamy nodded as he followed Y/N, their hands and feet finding purchase on the gnarled branches as they ascended. After what felt like an eternity of precarious climbing, they finally reached the cockpit.

With a determined nod, Bellamy took charge, his muscles tensing as he prepared to breach the cockpit door. "Stand back," he instructed Y/N, his voice firm as he readied himself. With a powerful kick, Bellamy broke through the door, the metal groaning in protest as it gave way to reveal the scene inside.

Y/N's heart lurched at the sight of the unconscious pilot slumped over the controls, his hands limp and lifeless.

She pushed Bellamy aside, rushing into the cockpit as she checked for any signs of life. She placed her ear over his face, his light breaths fanning her face. "He's alive," she announced.

the pilot stirred to consciousness, his eyes flew open in terror, his body jolting upright in a panic. Y/N and Bellamy rushed to his side, their hands gently but firmly restraining him as they tried to calm his frantic movements.

"Easy now," Y/N urged soothingly, her voice a comforting presence amidst the chaos. "You're safe. You're with us."

Bellamy echoed her sentiments, his voice steady as he reassured the pilot that he was in good hands. Outside, Raven's voice cut through the trees, her concern palpable as she called out to them.

"Is everything okay in there?" she yelled with urgency. Bellamy quickly responded, his voice carrying a note of assurance. "Yes, we're fine," he called back, his words intended to allay Raven's fears.

As the pilot's breathing gradually slowed, he sputtered, his voice hoarse as he struggled to speak. "What... what happened?" he mumbled, confusion evident in his eyes. Y/N exchanged a glance with Bellamy, her mind racing with the weight of their predicament.

But before she could respond, the pilot began to recount the events of the crash, his words painting a grim picture of their desperate situation. Y/N leaned in closer, her eyes locked on his as she listened intently.

He explained that the plane had lost radio contact six hours after takeoff, prompting a desperate turn back towards Fiji. But before they could reach safety, they had encountered unexpected turbulence, sending the aircraft hurtling towards the ground.

“We need to figure out how to get a message out for help." Bellamy nodded silently, his gaze scanning the cramped confines of the cockpit for any sign of a communication device. strange roaring noise echoed through the jungle outside of the cockpit. The pilot was seized by something outside the plane, his screams piercing the air with terror.

Y/n let out a scream almost stumbling out of the cockpit. Bellamy wasted no time, grabbing the transceiver and fled from the cockpit and pulling y/n along with him as they scrambled down from the tree.

"Raven! Clarke! Run!" Y/N yelled at the top of her lungs, her voice a desperate plea as she and Bellamy sprinted through the dense foliage.

Raven and Clarke snapped their necks at the sounds of the creature. their eyes widening in alarm as they caught sight of the fear etched on Y/N and Bellamy's faces. Both of broke out into a run, their footsteps echoing through the underbrush as they raced to safety.

Y/N's heart sank at the sight of Jasper, frozen in place amidst the trees.

With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she called out to him. "Jasper! Run!" she shouted, but it was too late. At the sound of her voice, Jasper's eyes widened in fear, and he turned on his heel, bolting through the trees in a blind panic.

The branches smacked her in the face as she ran, sweat making her shirt heavy. She could hear Jasper's heavy breathing and the sound of his feet pounding against the forest floor.

Jasper stumbled and fell to the ground Y/N looked back, debating her choices before she turned back, her feet carrying her swiftly to Jasper's side.

“Jasper come on, we have to go. Please!” she begged, Jasper's body shook as he tried to speak, but no words came out. Jasper took a deep breath and finally spoke. “I...I can't do this anymore, Y/N. Leave me.”

Anger filled y/n’s body as she heard the creature roar again. “Shut up Jasper, get up.” With Y/N's support, Jasper struggled to her feet, her eyes wide with terror as she clung to Y/N's arm for support, their legs pushing through the tangled undergrowth.

Bellamy and Raven continued to run, their breath coming in ragged gasps as they pushed themselves to the limit. Fear coursed through their veins, driving them forward with a singular focus - survival.

After what felt like an eternity, the unseen monster finally relented, its presence fading into the depths of the jungle. With a collective sigh of relief, the group reunited, their faces pale as they surveyed their surroundings.

Their relief was short lived as they turned their gaze upwards, they recoiled in horror at the sight that greeted them - the pilot's mangled body suspended in a treetop.

Silence descended over the group as they took in the gruesome scene before them. Raven recoiled at the sight, gagging next to Clarke as she said, “"Guess that's what they mean by 'flying high,' huh?”

---

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