#he would have untied himself. you’ve been through that already

[grabby-smitten]

[puckinghischier]

so hi.. i keep thinking about how hot (and probably hopefully rough) sex would’ve been after last night’s game. you do with that information what you’d like.. i just thought i’d share my thoughts y’know completely and utterly innocent like.

✶ hope you had the best day alli, baby!! ‹𝟹

oh harls, my beautiful, beautiful quinn lover.

of course quinn would be in the need of some…rage activities once he got home. he’d be seething the entire bus ride back to the hotel, thinking about how cocky those assholes on the kings were all night. i mean, the hit on brock? the multiple intentional penalties? the cheap move from clarke?

it was all he could do to contain himself until his penalty, finally having had enough of the nasty plays. and while he was letting himself seethe and stew in his hatred, all he could think about is the fact you’re going to be waiting in his hotel room for him.

when he walks through the door, you’re laying on the king sized bed, having received his text he sent you from the locker room directly after the game.

naked. on the bed. now. absolutely no touching yourself (trust me, i’ll fucking know). don’t move until i say so.

he made you send him a picture for confirmation, wanting to know you’ll be so worked up in anticipation by the time he walks through that door you’ll be putty in his hands.

and while he’s already worked up and agitated from the game, the sight of your hand snaked between your legs, head thrown back onto his pillow, soft pants falling from your lips, has him seeing red.

he drops his bag loudly, seeing as you were so lost in the feeling of your own fingers you didn’t hear the heavy door open and shut.

the sound finally startles you out of your blissful state, arms flying up to cover yourself in a panic, dropping them to rest on your stomach when you realize it’s just quinn. the look on his face, however, does nothing to calm your racing heart.

“thought i told you specifically not to touch yourself,” he grits out, clenching his jaw so tightly he could barely speak.

you still, having been so ready and needy you completely forgot about the rule. sitting there, bare pussy exposed to the chill of the room, was torturous in the best way. you could feel yourself drip onto the freshly made bed, so the initial contact was simply the swipe of a finger to try and prevent any further mess. but the warm contrast of your finger on the cold slick of your cunt felt too good, spurring you to give your clit just a brief touch. just enough to hold you over.

before you knew it, you heard the thud of quinn’s bag and clearing of his throat, not even remembering how you ended up knuckle deep in your own core.

“i-i’m so sorry. it’s just, it was cold, and i was so wet, so i tried to clean myself up a bit, but my finger was so warm, and then i thought just one touch wouldn’t hurt,” you ramble out one long run-on sentence trying to plead your case.

“oh, i see” he starts walking towards you, quickly stripping himself of his t-shirt. “you were so ready for me, that you couldn’t wait on me, is that it?”

your face heats, realizing how pathetic it all is, really.

“well, when you put it like that…” you can’t even make eye contact with him, looking down at his hands instead.

quinn starts to untie the string on his sweatpants, letting them drop and walking right out of them as he comes to a stop at the end of the large bed.

“yeah…that’s what i thought,” he smacks his teeth at you in disapproval, shaking his head back and forth.

you take in the sight of him before you. toned body, pale skin, and my god, the hair. you’ve always been one to love body hair on a man, but seeing his large, exposed thighs, and the perfect dusting of the thick, dark hairs all over them, has your hand itching to find its way back between your slick folds.

he starts to palm himself over his boxers, earning a whimper from you in return. the noise piques his interest, eyebrow raising as he looks down at you.

“oh…you want this?” he reaches down to free his thick cock, sighing at the relief of the cloth restriction.

you don’t know if you should respond or not, scared of the consequences either way. you decide on an eager nod, mouth nearly watering at the sight.

“yeah, figured you did. always so needy, so ready to be whatever i need you be,” he says dismissively. “and lucky for you, i need this tonight, too. or i’d make you sit here and watch me stroke myself until i couldn’t take anymore, spewing everything i have all over you and this bed before making you go to sleep needy and unsatisfied. your punishment for touching yourself before i could get here.”

he must be able to see the panic in your eyes at the possibility, knowing he’s upset but surely he’s not that upset with you.

“but,” he starts, rubbing his thumb over his pink tip, “i think what i have planned is punishment enough. plus, i need you tonight, my sweet girl. need you to be my vice, my cure for all these…feelings i have pent up.”

you feel the physical jolt your core does, causing your body to flinch.

quinn discards his underwear entirely, placing one knee on the plush bed to start making his way to your body. you’re still sprawled out, skin buzzing at the thought of his touching yours.

once he’s hovering above you on all fours, he brings his head down to place a feather light kiss to your lips. when he pulls away, you chase him, pouting at the barely there contact.

“nope. only kiss you’ll get tonight, i’m afraid,” he sits up on his knees, in-between your open legs.

you whine out, always loving the hot, open-mouth kisses you two share while he’s inside of you.

“ehh, no more whining, either. should’ve thought about that before you broke the rules,” he scolds you, bringing his hands down to move your legs up, bending both of your knees so your feet rest flat on the bed.

once your knees are bent, he takes your hands that were resting on your stomach and splay them out on their respective sides.

“now, since you didn’t do like i asked you to so nicely, even though i’m so, so mad tonight, no touching me,” he looks down into your eyes as he says it, making sure you understand his rules.

“so, no kissing, no touching, no whining? what, i’m basically your sex doll tonight?” you sass him, rolling your eyes.

now, you expected a reaction out of him. it was your intent, actually. you expected a small smack to the leg, or a wagging finger with a stern look.

what you didn’t expect was to feel his hand come up and grasp your face, squishing your cheeks together so hard you’re forced to bite them just to allow any sort of give from the pressure.

he jerks your face to look at him, bringing his own so close you can feel his hot, angry breath on your face.

“that’s exactly right. you’re my doll tonight. mine to use as i see fit. however i want. you know why?” he pauses, heaving breaths in and out as he waits, as if you’d actually be able to answer him. “because i’m mad. i’m mad that the stupid kings thought they could beat up on my team tonight and get away with it. i’m mad that brock was taken out during the first period because of a purposeful hit. i’m mad, because the one thing i asked you to do, you couldn’t fucking do it.”

he’s seething at this point, an animalistic kind of anger radiating through his body.

your heart races in both fear and excitement. you hardly ever get to see this side of quinn, and you don’t know exactly what all was said or done on that ice tonight, but you’re sure you’re going to be able to feel the effects of it all for the next few days to come.

he releases your cheeks roughly, standing tall on his knees.

“since you claim you were so wet earlier you just couldn’t resist starting without me, too drunk on your own fingers to know what you were doing, you shouldn’t need any help then, should you?” he asks, reaching down to feel the arousal pooling in your exposed heat.

you want to whine. you want to whine and protest and complain, but before you can even think about breaking another rule of his, your breath is knocked from your lungs.

without any warning whatsoever, quinn slams into you completely, leaving no inch of your canal untouched. on instinct, you start to reach your arms up to grasp onto him, needing to ground yourself to him.

“i wouldn’t, if i was you,” he growls out, pulling out completely before slamming into you again, gripping one of your hips for stability.

dropping them back down to the mattress, you grasp the sheets so tightly you worry you’ll rip them.

your body jolts with each slam of his rigid cock into your hole, completely removing himself each time before snapping his hips so forcefully you swear you can feel it in your throat.

“god, have no clue how fucking angry i’ve been tonight”, he huffs out, not faltering his pace. “all night, watched those smug goons think they could do whatever they wanted, to whoever they wanted. then the refs wouldn’t even let me return the favor when given the chance. it’s bullshit,” he spits with a particularly harsh thrust.

you’re trying your best to lay there, unmoving, occupying your hands with the soft cotton underneath you. a choked sob of pleasure makes its way out when he hits a spot so deep inside of you, you had no clue it existed until this moment.

“but knew i was gonna get to come home to you,” he continues, distracted momentarily by the bounce of your tits with each thrust. “my sweet, sweet girl who always listens to what i say. who’s always so ready to do what i need her to do for me.”

he reaches up to pinch one of your hard nipples. you flinch, but remember to keep your hands down.

“and imagine my surprise, when i walk in the door to see you already making yourself feel good after i told you to wait on me,” he switches his hand to your other nipple, show it some attention. “made me so fucking angry all over again. was so prepared to come in and take care of you, low and slow all night. a treat for you and for me. but you just had to go and ruin it, didn’t you?”

at this point, even if you wanted to speak you couldn’t. you’re quite literally being fucked dumb right now. the effort of keeping your body still isn’t even a challenge anymore, limbs so heavy with pleasure you’re basically his to manipulate and use as he wishes.

you don’t even feel your orgasm approaching. one second you’re listening to his frustrations, the next you’re half deaf and seeing stars.

quinn stutters only slightly, abandoning his touch on your tits to move his hand to your throbbing clit.

“god, this was so fucking easy. this turn you on? me mad at you, not letting you do what you want, just like i didn’t get to do what i wanted?” he talks you through your bliss, watching your body shake and shiver while he continues his deep thrusts.

his fast circles on your clit don’t ease up, even after you’ve come down from your high. you try to wiggle your body away, your sensitivity making you squirm.

quinn’s grip on your hip tightens, halting your movement.

“don’t fucking move,” growls at you, basking at how easy it is for him to glide in and out of you, his dick covered in your release. “you’re gonna give me another one, i don’t care how sensitive you are. know you can do it. my own little slut.”

the name surprises you, quinn never really has been one for using stuff like that in the bedroom. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cause the feelings of another release to start swirling again, though.

his resolve starts to deteriorate, but he’s determined to milk one more from you before he enjoys his own release.

“c’mon. it’s the least you can do f’me, really,” he grunts, somehow rubbing even faster circles on your swollen bundle of nerves. “after no one at the game would let me retaliate, and after i had to sit in the fucking box for two minutes for just returning a little bit of what they dished out all night, giving me all you’ve got isn’t a lot to ask, is it?”

you try to shake your head, but the increased pace of his forceful thrusts causes your head to bob all over the place.

he can feel your walls starting to flutter again already, knowing it won’t take much to send you over the edge.

keeping his hand in between your legs, applying both pressure and friction to your clit now, he bends his body over to attach his mouth to your tit, showing the the area attention once again. he swirls his tongue around your sensitive nub.

the feeling alone is delectable, causing you to writhe in pleasure. but the second you feel his teeth encase the delicate bud, biting down, you explode yet again.

you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your life. you cry out, so loud and so pornographic quinn worries someone will complain, but loving every second of the sound.

you’re convulsing underneath him, tears leaking from your closed eyes at the intensity of the pleasure radiating throughout your body.

“fuck, that’s it. swear your pussy’s trying to trap me in there, doesn’t want me to leave,” quinn groans, feeling like his dick is literally being suctioned into your body.

after a few more sloppy thrusts, his balls tighten and he coats your walls with his release. he moans out, mixing with your perfect whimpers and whines as the shocks of his own orgasm cause you to twitch.

after he’s sure your body has sucked him dry, quinn pulls out of you, pushing your knees down so he can roll over to the side of you, throwing his own tired body in the mattress.

you both lay beside one another, panting and letting your bodies catch back up to you. he reaches over to grab your hand, every ounce of anger having left his body through his orgasm.

he’s back to being his usual, soft self, as he rolls over to place a kiss to your temple.

you’ve come to a little bit, turning your head to look over at his smiling face.

“maybe…maybe i should start a pact with these teams you play each week to make you mad and rile you up during games more often,” you softly speak, voice slightly hoarse from your orgasmic screaming. “if this is what i get in return, think it’d be worth the price,” you smirk at quinn.

he lets out a quiet chuckle at your words, bringing a hand to brush some hair out of your face, finally placing a real kiss to your lips.

when he pulls back you open your eyes to admire him, but are met with a serious, stern expression.

“don’t push it.”

[beenbaanbuun]

tied up w/ choi san

words - don’t ask, i don’t know

genre - smut

warnings - restraints, brat!reader, fem!bodied reader, mommy kink, dacryphiliIa, thigh riding, stomach riding, choking

(not proof read)

—————————————————

“you’re a fucking brat, you know that?” san spits through gritted teeth as he stares up at you from the mattress. if his hands weren’t tied to the bedposts maybe you’d care a lot more about the bite in his words. there’s no doubt that if his hands were free, he’s waste no time in pinning you down and fucking you into the mattress, but they’re not free, and all you can do is giggle at him.

“you’re the one that said i could tie you up and do what i wanted to you, sannie,” you bite your lip, holding back a moan. it would’ve only driven him even more insane to hear your sounds of pleasure, and as much as you’d love to hear him growl out yet another threat that won’t come to fruition, you have more to say. you swallow down the pleasure you feel as your clit grinds up against his tensed-up abs, pushing you closer and closer to your second orgasm of the night, “you can’t say things like that and then get mad when i do the thing i’ve been dreaming of for so long.”

you can’t help the little whimper that comes out when his muscles twitch in anger. it’s a more subtle sensation that when you were sitting on his thigh, pinning it down as he desperately tried to wriggle free from his restraints, but it still feels fucking heavenly. who knew that pissing him off would feel so good?

your hands rest either side of his head, making it easy enough for you to drag one over to his neck. you wrap it around, giving it a tiny squeeze. he growls, deep and guttural and perhaps if this were any other situation you’d be intimidated. but you’re in charge, and he’s tied up, and so you just smile down at him as if you haven’t a worry in the world. as if his eyes aren’t blazing with a fire so intense you’ve never seen the likes of it before. you grin wide, clearly proud of yourself and the situation you’d put your boyfriend in.

“well i’m sorry that i thought you were a good girl,” he snarls, lips pulling back like a dangerous animal. you roll your eyes and give him an exaggerated moan. again, his muscles twitch in annoyance and it feels so good; you slow your hips right down to stave off your second orgasm. you don’t want it yet. “yet you won’t fucking touch my cock,” his voice cracks and he sucks in a shuddery breath to calm himself. you watch as the aggression melts away from his expression, giving way to the desperation that lies behind it. your hips stop all together as you watch him crumble; fuck, it’s magnificent. “baby, please, what do i have to do to make you sit on my cock?”

you freeze, never having thought you’d get this far. you were more than prepared to cum a few times then give up and untie him. he’d fuck you into oblivion, releasing all his pent up anger on your already fucked out body before scooping you up into his arms and taking care of your broken form. this was a twist you never expected. you never even considered that he might be the first to fold, but as you watch him blink back his tears of frustration, you realise that it’s you that has the power right now.

you take a moment to consider your options. you could give in, sinking down onto his cock and riding him until he cums deep inside of your walls. it’s the safest option, going back to being his good little pet that responds to his commands with a snap of a finger. its what you know how to do, and whilst you’re enjoying teasing your boyfriend, maybe giving into him and giving him what he wants is the best option. you almost consider it, but then san draws in a sob and you freeze.

any semblance of frustration on his face has melted into nothing, making way for an expression you can only describe as pleading to take its place. his brows are furrowed, and his eyes are wide, the big brown irises that you love so much glazed over with tears. you tug your lip between your teeth as a few spill over his lash line, tumbling down his cheeks pathetically. he looks so pretty like this, you decide. you want to see more.

“you want me to sit on your cock?” you say, voice barely above a whisper. perhaps the shock of seeing him like this, a wet, pathetic mess beneath you, has stunned you into silence. you wouldn’t be surprised; the sadness in his eyes really is beautiful to see. san nods, a tiny whine spilling from his puffy lips. you pout at him condescendingly, in the very same way he does when you’re the one crying beneath him. it feels good. “that’s a shame, sannie, because i don’t think i’m ready to sit on your cock.”

you shift your hips experimentally, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut and sobs once again. his chest heaves as he cries, and holy fuck his abs ripple just like before, sending a bolt of electricity up your spine. you moan, and it draws a pained whimper from your boyfriend’s pout. you can’t help but let yourself grin as you grow more comfortable with this newfound power. it’s easy to see how san gets off on your submission when he looks like this beneath you.

“please,” he blathers, voice whiny and sounding almost nothing like his own. it’s music to your ears, fuelling you hips to move faster as you chase your orgasm that lies only just out of reach. you can taste it on the tip of your tongue; just a little more and you’ll be there. “please touch my cock,” god he sounds so pathetic; you almost wish for him to keep rambling, the sound of his sad little voice leading you closer and closer to the edge. “please let me cum… please,” you take in a shaky breath as that know in your stomach tightens. just a little longer and—

“please… mommy.”

the knot snaps in two and you can’t help but topple forwards, hardly managing to catch yourself before your forehead collides with san’s. it lasts a few seconds, sending your brain fuzzy as it wracks through your body. that name… fuck, you want to hear it again. you want san to chant it like a mantra, over and over until his throat is raw and you can’t cum anymore. you barely catch your breath before you sit back up and gaze down at his beautiful form.

“is that it baby?” you purr, a new found confidence taking over, “you want me to ride you? you want mommy to look after you?” you bite your lip as he nods desperately, “such a good boy, asking so politely. for that, i think you get a reward…”

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Take Your Boat Card, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Rafe continues to make their Spring Break interesting with his bucket list item.

A/N: This was suggested by the lovely @mellillasstuff, who I love to talk about Drew Starkey with! I hope you like it, Babe. The gif is special for you.

Masterlist

They spent the day in Mykonos, Greece and now, the yacht is drifting to Turkey. Their last Spring break of their lives is coming to an end in a few days and Y/N and Rafe are trying to make the most of it. Rafe sees this trip as the perfect opportunity to fulfill a bucket list item for him. “Come on. Let me take your boat card, Angel,” he begs, walking over to her on the bed. She shakes her head with a giggle, “That isn’t a thing, Rafe. Plus, we literally had sex this morning on this boat, so if it was a thing, then you’ve already taken it.” “It’s not the same. It’s not boat sex unless it is on the top deck and out in the open,” Rafe argues. He jumps into bed with her, making the mattress bounce under both of them. Her hand finds his cheek, “What kind of weird fraternity shit are you making up, Rafe?” He kisses the palm of her hand. “It’s not a weird fraternity thing. It’s… it’s kinda a fantasy of mine. Making love to my angel under the stars in the middle of nowhere with the sound of the waves keeping us company. It’s just you and me.” She, of course, wants to help him achieve his fantasy and it honestly sounds so romantic, but she can’t shake the feeling of being caught by a crewmate.

“Rafe, as nice as that sounds, what if we get caught.”

“Don’t worry, Angel. We are the only ones on the boat. I got the crew to take a boat out to the land for the night. They’ll be back in the morning to take us to our next city. If you really don’t want to do it, then that’s okay but I just thought it would be fun.” 

“I’m a little scared for our safety that no one can take drive the yacht, but I think it would be really fun too. I hope you have a captain’s hat because you are about to take my boat card.”

———

Y/N’s fingers graze the bottom of her dress, taking confident steps up the stairs. “Captain, how much longer until we reach port?” she calls out as innocently as she can. Rafe looks over his shoulder at her with a captain’s hat on his head, “A few more hours, Ms. Y/L/N. Is there something I can help you with?” Her arms swing from in front of her to behind and she walks towards him. “That’s so long… I don’t know how I’m going to fix my problem,” she laments, bringing her hand to play with her hair. 

“Well, what’s your problem? Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t know… Captain. It’s kinda an intimate issue.”

“Come on, Angel. You can trust me. I’m the ship’s Captain.” 

Her hands move up his chest, meeting around his neck. She grows impatient with this game and starts to unbutton his white shirt. “You’re restless tonight, Angel,” Rafe chuckles, bringing his hand to rest on her bum. She nods, “Very, something about that hat is doing something to me.” “Wow. Never thought my angel would be turned on by a man in uniform,” he teases. His hand moves up her bum to untie the bow of her dress while she begins peppering his bare chest with kisses. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her back from his skin. They look at each other with a grin. “I can’t keep playing this game anymore, Captain. I just need to feel you,” she mutters. He brings his lips to hers and pulls her dress off of her body, “Me either.” Once the cool ocean breeze meets her skin, Rafe walks her backwards toward the couch. The back of her knee meets the cool leather and she lies down with him on top of her. 

He kisses her on the lips, moving his hand down the valley of her breast to the top of her underwear. He grins to himself when he sees the moon glint off of his Greek letters that have been resting between her boobs since their sophomore year. A finger delicately lifts the fabric and continues its descent until it meets the wetness of her pussy. “Is this all for Captain Rafe, Angel?” She nods her head, itching for him to keep going. “Nuh-uh. Angel, you know I like it when you use words,” he tsks and removes his hand from where she needs it. 

“Captain, please. Touch me,” she begs, grabbing his wrist to bring his touch back. He growls at her words, “Enough of this Captain shit. I want you to be screaming my name to the sea, Angel.” He takes the bill of his hand in his hand and throws it somewhere on the deck without another thought. It’s one of the reasons she doesn’t have a nickname for him. It wasn’t for lack of trying when they first started to date. Rafe is so possessive of her that the thought of her calling him anything other than his name drives him to become the green-eyed monster. He pulls down her underwear and throws it with his hat, getting to work on making her feel good. His head buries between her legs, lapping up the mess he created. “Oh god, Rafe. This feels so good,” she moans at her normal level. Rafe always encouraged her to be as loud as possible, teaching her to not care about the other frat brothers, who might hear her sweet melody.

“Angel, you can be louder. There is no one around,” he reasons. She listens to his words and screams as loud as she can to please him. His mouth works on her clit as his fingers enter her hole. They curl to hit her G-spot and she tugs at his hair to get him to keep going. He quickly moves his fingers in and out of her. With every move of his finger, it brings her closer to her orgasm. Her fingers pull at the root of his hair and that’s how he knows she is about to cum. He pulls his fingers out of her, causing a whine to leave her lips. “Nope. Sorry, Angel. You are coming around my dick tonight,” he informs.

He stands up to pull off his shirt and his hand removes his belt in one fluid motion, which always makes Y/N’s thighs clench together. She sits up to help him take off the rest of his clothes and he lets her. She sinks to her knees in front of him, butt hitting the couch cushion. Her hands begin to pump his length. Saliva pools in her mouth, so she can spit it onto his dick. She slides her hand up and down his dick, listening to his groans. “You are doing so good, Angel,” he praises. His hand finds the back of her head and pushes her onto him. She takes him into her mouth, letting him hit the back of her throat. A hand remains at the base to pump what isn’t going in her mouth. She pulls herself off of him, so she can circle her tongue around his tip. She can taste his pre-cum. He decides he is hard enough for her and brings her back up so she is facing him. He lies her down on the couch again, kissing her lips. The mixture of their juices makes both of them want to moan. 

She watches as he brings a hand down to his cock to bring the tip to her vagina. He enters her inch by inch to let her have time to adjust. He has no more to offer her and waits for her to tell him to begin his thrust. “Please start, Rafe,” she states, bringing her forehead to his. His hips move back so just the tip is still inside of her and then eases them back down to meet the top of her pelvic bone. They normally like their sex fast and hard, but the moment felt right for something slower. He repeats the motion, enjoying the way her arms round his back to mark it up.

She may be his angel, but she has nails like the devil. He can feel the dig of her nails as she drags it down his back in an attempt to bring him closer. Being chest-to-chest with him doesn’t feel like enough to her, so she rounds her legs around his waist and helps meet his thrusts. It feels like the sounds of the skin slapping against each other and their groans echo out to the sea, yet she knows it is all in her head. She brings his hips in faster during his next thrust with her feet. He gets the message and deepens his thrust, feeling the way she begins to cling to him as she does. With her walls squeezing him, he knows he isn’t going to last long. Determined to make her climax first, he brings his hand down to her bud and starts to rub it in a circle. Y/N’s orgasm washes over her with his help. The feeling of her cumming around him causes him to twitch his seeds into her. He continues his gentle thrusts to ride out their high, stilling once they are both done. 

He slips out of her and lies beside her. She turns to face him, bringing his arms over her. He tightens his hold on her and gives her a kiss to the temple. “I don’t think roleplay is for us,” he observes, thinking back to how they didn’t last very long in the charade. She giggles with a nod of her head, “Yeah. I’m too impatient and you are too possessive to let me call you anything else other than your name. But I’m glad you convinced me to do this. I enjoyed giving each other our boat cards.” 

“I hate to have to tell you this, Angel. But I don’t have my boat card.” 

“Wait, if I’m not taking your boat card, does that mean you’ve done this before?”

“I’m from the Outer Banks, Angel. What do you think?

Taglist: @loves0phelia

[theherosvillain]

Teach you a lesson (Angel arc part 1)

(Try Not To) Kill All Your Friends masterpost - Next: Part 2

Contains: kidnapping, captivity, torture, broken bones, restraints, forced to watch

The whole thing was absolutely ridiculous. If Ryker and his men didn’t come soon, Vale was going to kill all of them. They shouldn’t have even let this happen—they were professionals, for God’s sake. Vale couldn’t fathom how he and Phantom had been captured in the first place.

“Are you making any progress?” Vale asked, for what felt like the umpteenth time. He hated to repeat himself, but Phantom hadn’t updated him in a while.

Phantom made a face, staring up at the ceiling as he focused on the ropes restraining his hands. “Um, sort of,” he said. Vale sighed, and Phantom muttered, defensively, “Let’s see you untie knots with your mind.”

“Phantom.” Vale could really do without the attitude at the moment. It was bad enough that he’d been kidnapped, sitting on the floor of some concrete cell God knows where, but it was even worse that he had to rely on Phantom to get them out. The boy was talented, certainly, but Vale preferred not to put his skills to the test when both of their lives were potentially at risk. “Why don’t you untie me first?”

“Because I’m halfway done with mine already,” he retorted, hands shifting behind his back.

“Well, hurry up,” Vale snapped. Phantom fell silent, getting that teenagery, exasperated look on his face that said, Yeah, yeah, I’m on it already. Vale took a deep breath, flexing his wrists, already feeling the ache in his muscles. “I’m impressed,” he admitted, “that you’ve managed to stay calm during this.”

Phantom’s eyebrows flicked up, and he shrugged. “Well, this isn’t my first kidnapping.” He frowned, eyes roaming the ceiling as he thought. “Actually, it might be the … fourth?”

Vale frowned back at him. “Fourth?”

“Yeah, there was Amoret, and then … you,” he said, “and then that time with Oliveri, and now this. That makes four.”

“Ah.”

After a minute, Phantom spoke again. “Did you forget that you kidnapped me?”

The boy had always had a smart mouth; the question shouldn’t have surprised Vale. He sighed impatiently. “Phantom, this is hardly the time.”

“I’m just wondering,” Phantom said, “because how else would you lose track of something like—” He cut himself off, head swiveling toward the door. “Someone’s coming.”

Vale struggled to his feet and moved away from the door, watching it warily. Phantom joined him. Vale hoped whoever came in wouldn’t check the restraints.

The door opened, and a woman stepped through. She was wearing fitted combat fatigues with platform boots, her hair in loose curls around her shoulders, and her makeup was just slightly too gaudy to be tasteful. A handful of others spilled into the room after her, but they were all dressed in the same sort of plain black attire that Vale’s own men wore, which indicated that they were lackeys, not the ones in command.

The woman’s pink lips split into a slow grin as her eyes roved over Vale and Phantom. “Well, well, look at this,” she said. “The great Axton Vale, finally brought down low. How does it feel, hmm? I just want to get a baseline before I drag you down lower.”

Vale schooled his expression into one of annoyance and disdain, which wasn’t far from how he was actually feeling. “Who are you, and what do you want?” he asked flatly.

The woman cocked her head, resting a manicured fingernail on her chin. “You don’t remember me? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. It was the worst day of my life, but for you—I’m sure that was just an average Tuesday for you, wasn’t it?”

Vale tried again. “Who are you working for?”

Her laugh was so high-pitched it would’ve made a dog whimper. “Oh, that’s rich,” she said, a broad grin spread across her face. “My name’s Danielle Angel, and I happen to be the one in charge here, honey.”

Oh, just perfect. Vale had not only been kidnapped, but kidnapped by some kind of living Barbie doll. He took a measured breath. “And what is it that you want with me?”

Her unnervingly white smile never wavered. “Weren’t you paying attention? I want to kick you off your high horse, Axton.”

He felt a twinge of irritation at the disrespect, but he managed not to show it. “Really?” he asked indignantly.

“Oh, absolutely,” said Angel. “And I think I’m going to start with …” She pointed a shiny pink nail to Vale’s right. “You!”

Phantom bristled, taking a step back, which put him right up against the wall. “I don’t think that’s—” Before he could finish, two of Angel’s men marched forward and grabbed him. The last man pulled Vale back by his shoulders.

Vale stumbled, struggling to keep his footing as he was dragged away from Phantom. “Leave him alone,” he said, keeping his voice steady.

“Sorry, Axton,” said Angel, “but you’re not the boss around here—you don’t get to make demands. Now, if you asked me nicely, I might consider leaving him alone, but otherwise …” She snapped her fingers, and one of her men drove his fist into Phantom’s stomach.

Phantom doubled over, wheezing. Vale surged forward, only for the henchman to yank him back, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his tied wrists. It shouldn’t have been enough to keep him restrained, but he just couldn’t get any damn leverage. “I said, leave him alone,” Vale snapped. The henchmen were twice Phantom’s size. With his hands tied like that, he didn’t stand a chance.

“You’re not a very good listener, are you, Axton?” Angel stood back with her hands clasped in front of her, watching her men rain punches down on Phantom. Vale set his jaw and watched.

Phantom put up a good fight, all things considered; Vale was proud of him for that. Each time he went down, he got back up, trying to ram the men with his shoulders. He tried to use his powers on them; that became clear when one of the men winced in pain, grabbing at his leg. Then the man struck Phantom across the head, dazing him. There was only so much Phantom could do with his powers when he couldn’t focus, and each injury was just another distraction.

Finally, Phantom collapsed on his knees, blood dripping from his nose. Vale watched him intently. Get up. Don’t just quit. Get back up. Phantom began to rise, but one of the men shoved him down by the shoulder, and he winced as his knees hit the floor. Angel laughed, flicking her gaze over to Vale. “He’s a fighter, isn’t he?” Then she sighed and tilted her head at her men. “I can’t help but feel, though, like you guys are going too easy on him.” Phantom’s shoulders stiffened. His eyes were glassy with barely-restrained tears. A single one traced down his cheek. “I think you should break his arm,” Angel said.

“No.” The word slipped out unbidden, barely a whisper. Vale pressed his lips shut.

It was too late. Angel’s head swiveled toward him, her ridiculous hair bouncing. “What was that, Axton?” she asked sweetly. He glared at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction. It didn’t matter; regardless, she wasn’t going to stop.

She watched Vale for a moment, then shrugged, turning her attention back to her men. “Well, go on, then,” she said, motioning them into action. “You can even untie his hands; won’t that be nice?”

The men yanked Phantom to his feet, and one of them pulled out a switchblade to saw away his restraints. Phantom winced as the ropes fell and blood trickled down his wrist. His face went white as two large hands gripped his forearm. “Please, don’t,” he breathed. His gaze flickered over to Vale, and then landed on Angel. “You’re—you’re trying to get at him, right? He doesn’t care. I promise, he—”

Angel sauntered forward and grabbed Phantom by the chin, her long nails digging into his jaw. She locked eyes with Vale. “That’s an interesting theory,” she said. “Let’s put it to the test, hmm?”

Vale wasn’t going to react. All Angel wanted was a reaction. She stepped back and signaled to her men. Phantom’s arm cracked down over the henchman’s knee.

“Stop!” Vale lurched forward, but a pair of hands held him back, fingers digging into his shoulders. Phantom’s knees buckled, and the henchmen held him up, one pair of hands under his armpits and the other still on his arm, hanging at an unnatural angle. The hand on his forearm squeezed. Phantom let out a choked noise that barely sounded human. “Stop, please!”

The room went quiet. Slowly, Angel turned to Vale, her face lit with a predatory grin. “Oh, that was delicious.” She stalked over to him, snapping her fingers, and Vale stumbled as the henchman released him. When he righted himself, he found Angel standing too close for comfort. He tilted his chin to look her in the eye. “All I wanted was for you to ask nicely,” she said, pouting. “Can you do that for me, sweetie?”

Vale clenched his jaw. For a moment, the room was quiet. The silence was broken by a single, strangled sob. Vale’s hands curled into fists. “Please, stop.”

“Oh, come on.” Angel’s finger traced down his jaw. His muscles rippled with involuntary repulsion. “You can do better than that. Get on your knees.”

Vale swallowed. From behind Angel, he heard a flinching sort of noise, anticipating pain. Slowly, Vale sank down.

As he looked up at Angel, he imagined himself plunging a knife into her chest, slitting her throat, carving that smug grin off her face. But the thoughts didn’t change his reality. She gently tilted his chin up. “Now ask nicely,” she whispered.

“Please. Stop hurting him.”

For a long moment, Angel gazed down at him, drinking in the sight. This wasn’t going to help. She wasn’t going to stop.

Then, suddenly, she ruffled Vale’s hair and straightened up. “Was that so hard?” She snapped her fingers, and her men stepped away from Phantom. “I think that’s enough for now. Let’s leave them alone for a little while.” Vale stared, open-mouthed, as Angel sashayed out of the room with her men, locking the door behind her.

-

“I can try to untie you, if you want.”

It was the first time Phantom had spoken in hours. Vale looked up to see him slumped against the wall on the other side of the cell, right where he’d collapsed when Angel left. There were bruises on his face, a crust of blood beneath his nose, and his arm was arranged carefully in his lap. “Your arm is broken,” Vale said, feeling as though it was a redundant observation.

Phantom shrugged one shoulder, his face expressionless. His cheeks were tacky with dried tears. “My other arm isn’t.”

Vale wasn’t sure it would stay that way if Angel found out about this, but his hands had gone numb a while ago, and he suspected they would both be better off if Vale had his hands free. He crossed the cell and sat with his back to Phantom. He exhaled slowly as the boy started tugging at the ropes.

They didn’t need to talk. Vale had always preferred silence. But for some reason the quiet was poking at him now, like an errant feather out of a down pillow. “I could have ended it sooner.”

Phantom’s fingers went still. “What?”

 “All she wanted was …” Vale took a deep breath, forcing away the memory of his knees hitting the ground, of her nails under his chin. “I could have given it to her. I just …” Didn’t think it would help. Didn’t want to give in. Thought that you could handle it.

This was exactly the type of situation Phantom had been trained for. He’d been through the same interrogation and captivity trainings that all of Vale’s men went through. This wasn’t even the worst he’d been injured in recent memory; he had collected more than his fair share of scars. But this was the first time that Vale might have prevented it. There was no reason he should have wanted to, given Phantom’s role. Some people had taken to calling him Vale’s guard dog. Vale thought it was a crass moniker, but he had to admit it was fitting. A guard dog did the protecting; it didn’t need to be protected.

“Is this your way of apologizing?”

Vale bit back the instinct to chide Phantom’s tone. “I suppose so,” he said slowly.

Phantom silently picked at the knot. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “It was a power play. You couldn’t have known she’d actually stop.”

Vale’s shoulders relaxed as much as the restraints allowed. “That was my thought, yes.”

Phantom paused. After a long time, he spoke in a quiet voice. “Now that you know, though …” He left the sentence unfinished.

“We’re going to get out of here before that happens again.”

“Right.”

There was a world of uncertainty in that single word. Vale decided that silence was best.

-

Title credits: Just One Yesterday - Fall Out Boy

Tag list: @toyybox

[bullet-prooflove]

Valeria - Angel Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @appreciatelove @the-wandering-lunatic @weiwei0210 @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @est1887 @prettyinpunk85 @thanossexual @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @justreblogginfics @irishavengersassemble @keyweegirlie

It’s late when Angel makes it home, later than he intended to be. The house is already lit up and the porch light is on, beckoning him inside. He loves coming home to this, knowing that there’s someone waiting for him, someone who cares about him, who wants to hear about his day. He shuts the front door behind him, bending down to untie the laces of his boots before he toes them off carefully and sets them alongside your smaller ones.

He's been thinking of asking you to move in with him. It’s been almost nine months and he’s more than ready, the only reason he hasn’t done it sooner is because you’re a little skittish. You’ve told him before that you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He hopes that you see you don’t have to worry about that with him. That he’s steady, that he wants a place in your life and he’s here to stay.

“Hey baby, sorry I’m late.” he hollers as he treads through the hallway towards the kitchen. He knows you’re probably in there, sitting at the table running through your list of things to do. “We were talking about the food drive this weekend, Bish was worried we wouldn’t have enough bodies…”

He trails off, his hand coming to rest on the door frame as he surveys the sight in front of him.

“I found this on the doorstep.” You tell him, tipping your head towards the car seat and the diaper bag sitting on the kitchen table. “Along with those.”

You’re holding a baby.

She’s tiny, not more than a few weeks old, wrapped up in a white fleece blanket with yellow ducks embroidered into it. There’s a tuft of dark hair sticking out of her head, something that he recognises from his own baby pictures. His heart fucking breaks because he knows, he just knows that this is his baby.

“There’s a note.” You say, swaying from side to side gently as the infant begins to gripe. You hush her and she begins to sooth as you continue with the motion.

He edges towards the table, his fingers picking up the envelop that’s already been torn open. He doesn’t begrudge you that, he would have done the same thing. There’s a letter and a birth certificate tucked inside. He takes them both and smooths them upon the surface of the table along side each other. He studies the birth certificate first.

Her name is Valeria and she’s three weeks old.

His fingertip trails down the paper until he reaches the line where both of the parents are listed. He sees his name scrawled by a registrar along side the word ‘Father’. He puts both of his hands on the back of his head as he breathes the word ‘fuck’.

“Don’t swear in front of the baby.” You murmur, your voice a low, even tone.

“Sorry.” He finds himself saying.

This is so fucking surreal; he can’t wrap his head around it. His gaze strays to the ‘Mother’ column and he sees the name Skylar Rixton listed. Who the fuck…

And then he remembers.

Sky.

The bike bunny he’d fucked a couple of weeks before he met you. She’d been tending bar for a few weeks, a friend of Jess’s. Things had gotten a little wild that night in the Clubhouse, he’d been knocking back tequila trying to drown out the self-loathing that was gnawing at his insides and she’d put herself directly in his path. He’s woken up the next morning with a scratched up back and Sky trying to tempt an encore out of him. He’d stopped it in it’s tracks because he could already see that she was getting attached and Angel didn’t do strings.

She’d taken off a couple of months later after he’d started seeing you.

He read the letter next, and it confirms his suspicions. She’d discovered she was pregnant not long after he’d met you. Decided to raise the kid on her own, then discovered it wasn’t as easy as she thought.

She’s your problem now, the letter said.

“I didn’t know.” He tells you as he raises from his seat at the table.

“It doesn’t matter.” You say, your head tilted away from him.

Your hair falls across your features so he can’t see the expression on your face. He realises that this is the other shoe, that the very thing he promised not to do to you is happening right now and he is powerless to stop it.

“Angel, you need to take you daughter.” You tell him.

Your voice is soft, but he can still hear the hurt in it. It feels like he’s being stabbed in the chest because the last thing he ever wanted was for you to become a casualty of his recklessness.

You’re careful as you hand him the baby. He reacts instinctively, shifting the weight of the tiny infant until she sits comfortably in his arms, her fists flailing just a little.

“You’re alright.” He tells her, his voice kind as he starts to sway. “I’ve got you.”

He doesn’t realise you’ve left until he hears the front door closing behind you. He doesn’t remember you saying anything, only the absence of your presence as he finds himself standing alone in his kitchen with his daughter cradled in his arms. He swallows hard past the ache in his chest, his eyes stinging because he knows he fucked up.

This may be the beginning for him and Valeria but it’s the end of him and you.

Love Angel? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 17 Sally

Dark waited patiently as the turnkey unlocked yet another door past the gate. The old sally port had seen much use over twenty years of occupation, and both she and the Resistance soldier ignored the dark stains along the floor and walls.

He led her into the prison to a cell. “Here, ma’am,” he said, standing a few yalms back for privacy.

The Hyur inside looked up, then shrank down into his cot again, not looking at her.

“Well, if it isn’t the Champion’s thug,” Yuyuhase said from the other side of the cell. “I don’t suppose you’ve an offer for our release?”

Dark ignored the Lalafell. She had never liked him, and what she had was not for him. “Laurentius.”

“Don’t,” he moaned. “Go away, I don’t want—”

“I’m here on Buscarron’s behalf.” Her tone was cool and merciless. She took no satisfaction from the pained sound he made, nor how he writhed.

This was a favor to a friend, a mainstay of the Forest who saw to its continued balance and peace. She herself had no consideration or care left for the weak, many-times traitor.

Laurentius heaved himself from the cot with a heavy sigh. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, his skin pale and covered in a clammy sweat. His cheeks were sunken, as if he hadn’t been eating.

Dark’s heart was stone. She was here because Aeryn would take pity on the pathetic turncoat, and perhaps even Yuyuhase, and argue again for leniency. She already had once.

They had made their choices. They had had their chances. If they would not learn, then the natural order was for them to be culled before they endangered more.

As a Forestborn himself, Laurentius ought to understand that as well as Dark did.

She held out the small, dark bottle. It was not the celebratory liquor Buscarron had once set aside, to toast a new life of respectability. It was still finer than this wretch deserved, but she had promised.

“What did he say?” Laurentius hesitantly mumbled as he took it, hand shaking.

“Mostly curses,” she replied. “He is angry, and disappointed. But believes a man should have one last drink before facing his fate. May it be a final reminder of home.”

Dark walked away, ignoring as he began to weep and Yuyuhase threw snide remarks after her, then at his cellmate. The soldier led her back through the sally port, unlocking and locking gates and doors, until she let out a deep breath in the dusty, sunny street of Ala Mhigo.

Bandit kwehed from the hitching post, and she strode over to untie him, mounting up and heading directly for the city gate.

She needed a good, long ride in the wilds before telling Buscarron that the job was done.

[aeyunaa]

Mine

Pairing: husband/Chan x wife/female reader

Word count: 3k

Smut warning:

Choking, pussy eating, possession kink, jealousy, rough play, breeding kink, bulged kink, fluff at the end?

You and Chan are a married couple and have two daughters already 🤷🏻��♂️

——/—————request are open—-/——

You had final got jun-ah and dal to doze off after all your previous attempts. “Fuck I’m tired” you look up at the clock it was already midnight your husband came home from work in about an hour. You had cook earlier and left him his plate in the microwave with a note so he knew it was his. You lay down and eventually wake up to the sound of your husband laying his keys on the nightstand chan leaned and kissed your forehead before walking into the restroom to take a shower. When he came out you looked at him he was dressed in grays sweat your eyes locked onto the sight of his abs and you blush. He smiles before sitting beside on the bed “how was your day, baby?” He asked in a deep rich tone. “Jun gave me hell, I spent about four hours trying to get her to fall asleep.” Chan chuckles as he runs a hand up and down your back. Suddenly your phone rings you look at who’s calling “Hyunjin?” You didn’t even talk to him that often. You Chan feel Chan’s glare burning through the backside of your head as you slowly answered it “Hello?” “Put it on speakerphone.” A chill ran down your spine but you did as you were asked “y/n? I’m so glad you answered! Anyway me and the guys just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out like we all used to you know?”. You hesitate “I can’t really, I have to watch the kids maybe some other time”.

You could hear Hyunjin sigh over the phone “okay then I’ll call you back later bye”, “bye”.

I hung up and set my phone down and immediately felt Chan’s hands running down my chest. “Hyunjin? Why would my best friend call you in the middle of the night? Unless you’ve been talking to him privately.” Chan continues groping at my boobs as his movements grow more intense. “C-Chan w-wait I hardly even T-talk to him”. He pushes you into the bed hooking his fingers onto the edge of your panties dragging them down your legs and tossing them somewhere on the bed he dove into you sticking his tongue inside of you, licking over your entrance, teasing at your clit. his fingers spread you open, as he ate you out. He suddenly pulls away and stares at you with a predatory look in his eye’s as he untied the strings to sweat pants, taking his dick out of his boxers. It was red hard, and glossed over with precum at the tip. He wasted no time positioning himself at your wet entrance he ran his hands up till they were around your neck he gripped catching you off guard “you know your safe word?” You nodded slightly. He grinned before shoving his cock inside your small cunt. The feeling splitting you two. His hands grew tighter around your neck choking out any moans. He leaned back slowly taking his hands off your neck and onto your hips he could feel his cock grow harder as he continues thrusting at a merciless pace “fuck…look at it baby look at how beautiful you are with my cock deep in side of you…destroying you…” you look down and you see it the bulge that appeared with each thrust. You were a moaning mess chan slapped a hand over your mouth “the kids are sleeping you shouldn’t wake them.” could feel himself growing closer to his orgasm. His thrusts grew sloppy but he made sure to make up for it in depth slamming himself down deep inside you “fuckkk…. “All mine, the babies you’ll be giving birth to MINE, The cock buried deep inside your fat cunt Mine, all mine….” He thrust once more before he felt his climax wash over him. His seed buried deep inside your wet cunt as you wrapped your arms around his back. “I know I know hun” he coos as he slowly pulls out of you not wanting any of his semen to drip out.

“You did so well for me, princess…” he spoke softly as he layed down and pulled you into a hug. You replied with a soft “mmh” he smiles softly and pulls the blanket over the two of you. “Hyunjin can’t fuck you as good as I’ve been..” he whispers hinting that he was still a bit jealous.

You giggle a bit “Chan!…”

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[sercetsin]

𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙚

Pairing: husband/Chan x wife/female reader

Word count: 700

Smut warning:

Choking, pussy eating, possession kink, jealousy, rough play, breeding kink, bulge kink, fluff at the end?

*You and Chan are a married couple and have one daughter already 🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️*

You had finally got her to doze off after all your previous attempts. “Fuck I’m tired” you look up at the clock it was already midnight your husband came home from work in about an hour. You had cooked earlier and left him his plate in the microwave with a note so he knew it was his. You lay down and eventually wake up to the sound of your husband laying his keys on the nightstand. Chan leaned and kissed your forehead before walking into the restroom to take a shower. When he came out you looked at him he was dressed in grays sweat your eyes locked onto the sight of his abs and you blush. He smiles before sitting beside on the bed “how was your day, baby?” He asked in a deep rich tone. “Jun gave me hell, I spent about four hours trying to get her to fall asleep.” Chan chuckles as he runs a hand up and down your back. Suddenly your phone rings and you look at who’s calling “Hyunjin?” You didn’t even talk to him that often. You Chan felt Chan’s glare burning through the backside of your head as you slowly answered it “Hello?” “Put it on speakerphone.” A chill ran down your spine but you did as you were asked “y/n? I’m so glad you answered! Anyway me and the guys just wanted to know if you wanted to hang out like we all used to you know?”. You hesitate “I can’t really, I have to watch the kids maybe some other time”.

You could hear Hyunjin sigh over the phone “okay then I’ll call you back later bye”, “bye”.

I hung up and set my phone down and immediately felt Chan’s hands running down my chest. “Hyunjin? Why would my best friend call you in the middle of the night? Unless you’ve been talking to him privately.” Chan continues groping at my boobs as his movements grow more intense. “C-Chan w-wait I hardly even T-talk to him”. He pushes you into the bed hooking his fingers onto the edge of your panties dragging them down your legs and tossing them somewhere on the bed he dove into you sticking his tongue inside of you, licking over your entrance, teasing at your clit. his fingers spread you open, as he ate you out. He suddenly pulls away and stares at you with a predatory look in his eyes as he unties the strings to sweatpants, taking his dick out of his boxers. It was red hard, and glossed over with precum at the tip. He wasted no time positioning himself at your wet entrance he ran his hands up till they were around your neck he gripped catching you off guard “you know your safe word?” You nodded slightly. He grinned before shoving his cock inside your small cunt. The feeling splitting you two. His hands grew tighter around your neck, choking out any moans. He leaned back slowly taking his hands off your neck and onto your hips he could feel his cock grow harder as he continues thrusting at a merciless pace “fuck…look at it baby look at how beautiful you are with my cock deep in side of you…destroying you…” you look down and you see it the bulge that appeared with each thrust. You were a moaning mess chan slapped a hand over your mouth “Jun is still sleeping you shouldn’t wake her.” could feel himself growing closer to his orgasm. His thrusts grew sloppy but he made sure to make up for it in depth slamming himself down deep inside you “fuckkk…. “All mine, the babies you’ll be giving birth to MINE, The cock buried deep inside your fat cunt Mine, all mine….” He thrust once more before he felt his climax wash over him. His seed buried deep inside your wet cunt as you wrapped your arms around his back. “I know I know hun” he coos as he slowly pulls out of you not wanting any of his semen to drip out.

“You did so well for me, princess…” he spoke softly as he laid down and pulled you into a hug. You replied with a soft “mmh” he smiles softly and pulls the blanket over the two of you. “Hyunjin can’t fuck you as good as I’ve been..” he whispers hinting that he was still a bit jealous.

You giggle a bit “Chan!…”

The endddddd y’all

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[galaxywhump]

[SV-240 AU Masterlist]

Part two of Berkeley's Revenge AU.

contents: recapture, defiant whumpee, tied to a chair, death threats, past fingore/amputation, traumatic haircut, shock collar.

~~~

Berkeley winces, picking up Wren’s severed finger through a tissue, which instantly turns crimson, soaked with blood.

“It could still be attached back,” he sing-songs, smiling at Wren before tossing the tissue into a bin. “Whoops, nevermind.”

Wren barely hears him, his wide unseeing eyes fixed on the ceiling, his breathing ragged, his forehead lined with cold sweat. His finger is gone, it’s been cut off, and its absence, once it finally registers, feels so weird and so wrong. He flinches and gasps when Berkeley grabs his left hand and starts playing with his fingers, smiling to himself.

“I guess when I feel like hearing you scream again, I can just take my pick.” He lets go, circles the table, and gets to cleaning and dressing the wound on Wren’s right hand, chuckling a bit at his instinctual attempt to wrench his hand free. “Try not to get an infection and die, but it should be fine. You'll live. You’re so tough, after all.” He glances at Wren’s face, listening to his frantic breathing. “Why so quiet, Rackham? No more jokes? Figures,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “We both know how pathetic you really are.”

“You cut off my fucking finger,” Wren rasps.

“And I can do it again if you don’t stop swearing.” The terror in Wren’s eyes when his head jerks towards Berkeley makes him smile. “Yep, I think that’s a good idea. Cutting off a finger every time you swear.”

“Y-you’re-”

“I’ll let that one slide, though.” He gives Wren a bloody pat on the cheek. “Cause you didn’t know, you poor thing. But from now on you better keep that in mind. Got it?”

Wren hates himself for his immediate feverish nod.

“Good. You have your moments of obedience, don't you? It's a shame Daniel never enforced it more, but now he's gone, you are mine, and I'll change things up a bit. No swearing is a good start." Berkeley cocks his head. “Yeah, feels good to say it. You’re mine, Rackham, and I can do whatever I want to you.”

His words chill Wren to the core more than Daniel’s similar musings ever did. He knew what Daniel wanted, and after a year or so surprises had become scarce. All he knows about Berkeley’s wants is terrifying.

Kill you. More modifications.

And who knows what else.

“Alright, let’s get you off this table for now.”

Wren follows Berkeley with his eyes as he crouches down next to a duffel bag on the floor and rummages through its contents, which Wren would rather not imagine, suspecting he won’t like whatever Berkeley’s about to take out now.

Sure enough, he retrieves a shock collar.

“What the-” He stops himself from finishing at the last possible moment, but fear still sets in and he shivers. It was obvious what he was going to say, and if Berkeley considers it enough to…

“Good, you’re learning.” Berkeley smiles, standing next to the table, right by Wren’s head. “You know what this is, right?” He dangles the collar, made of flexible metallic material with a tiny box attached on one side, in the air. “Daniel had one of these too. Tell me what this is, Rackham. Three.”

“A shock collar,” Wren rushes to answer, not wanting to find out what would happen if Berkeley had counted all the way down.

“Very good!” Berkeley coos and snickers. “So I take it you’ve had to wear it before?”

“Yeah.” It was once or twice, really, but Wren chooses not to specify. He’s already obediently answering Berkeley’s questions way too much for his liking. 

“Not enough, in my opinion, but we’ll fix it.” Without further ado Berkeley treads the collar under Wren’s neck, making him jolt in place when the cold metal touches his skin, then brings it around and tightens it until it fits snugly. “Mhm, much better. You’re a natural. I’m going to untie you now, but you will stay nice and still, cause if you so much as make a move to attack me, I’ll click this little button-” he waves the small remote in the air “-and then cut off a finger or two, unless I come up with something more exciting.”

“Okay,” Wren says, contemplating the ceiling and trying not to cry. The collar doesn’t stay cold for long, but it’s still uncomfortable, and swallowing makes him shudder, and… it's going to stay now, for however long Berkeley wants. 

At least Daniel-

Shut the fuck up.

He can’t completely silence the thoughts, though. At least Daniel never cut off his fingers. At least Daniel didn’t want to collar him for good; the few times he’d done that he almost looked disgusted and made sure to take it off as soon as it was no longer necessary - as if a shock collar was ever necessary for a human being.

He quite literally jolts back to reality when the collar activates, sending a bolt of electricity through his body. It ends as soon as it started, as if it never even happened, and once the initial shock wears off, he remembers Berkeley’s warning and his heartbeat picks up, his blood running cold.

“B-but I-” He looks at Berkeley, who’s watching him with a smirk, his finger resting on the button of the remote. “I didn’t even move!”

He can’t cut my finger off, he can’t, I didn’t do anything wrong, but he can do anything he wants, no, no, no-

“I know, idiot.” The insult sounds almost affectionate. “I wish you could see the look on your face right now, so terrified. But you’re right, you didn’t move. I just wanted to see if the collar works.”

The relief that overwhelms Wren makes it hard to breathe, as if the collar wasn’t making a good enough job of that.

Berkeley struggles with the sturdy knots of the restraints before finally untying them and motioning for Wren to sit up, nice and slow, no sudden movements. He grabs him by the arm and helps him get off the table, and his grip tightens when Wren sways on his feet a little.

Wren’s forced to take a few shaky steps, his legs barely cooperating with him after being immobilized for… however long it had taken him to wake up. With a push he finds himself sitting on a chair, which seems inconspicuous until Berkeley presses a button under it, causing armrests to slide out of the back. When his wrists are grabbed and slammed down on the armrests, it turns out that the chair is also outfitted with metal restraints, which snap closed, bringing Wren’s temporary freedom of movement to an end.

“I’d stay still anyway,” he sneers when Berkeley crouches down to tie his ankles to the legs of the chair, this time with regular rope.

“I know,” Berkeley says as he straightens up and smiles at Wren. “But I just like seeing you like this, and I’m sure you missed being tied up.”

“Not really.” Wren rolls his eyes, but he can’t ignore the sense of familiarity at being restrained like this. A feeling of resignation creeps up on him, but he tries to fight it, push it away, because he’s not resigned.

Right?

There’s an unpleasant scraping sound when Berkeley grabs the chair, turns it, and pushes it forward a bit, grimacing with effort.

“Maybe,” Wren says, looking up at him with a mocking smile, “you should’ve put the chair where you wanted it to be before, you know, strapping me to it.”

“Or it should’ve been a hover chair,” Berkeley snorts as he lets go and walks up to the closet in front of them. “But we’d already modified this one, so.” He shrugs, pressing one of the buttons on the side of the closet, causing its door to convert into a mirror, then walking away.

Wren wanted to keep his eyes on Berkeley at all times, but once he sees his reflection, he can’t look away, staring at it with wide eyes, his lips parted a bit, an attempt at another snark shut down in an instant.

The collar around his neck and the bloody carved word on his chest are jarring, mocking him, and his hand… He forces himself to look up from it when nausea creeps up on him. The worst part, though, is his face. His eyes are hollow, with tears glistening in their corners, and his expression is both familiar and new - familiar pained tension, new pure terror caused by the prospect of imminent death.

He never wanted to look like this again.

He closes his eyes only to flinch and open them when he hears a series of sharp sounds. In his reflection he locks eyes with Berkeley, who grins, standing behind him, wielding a pair of scissors.

“What…” Wren trails off, but realization dawns on him and his heart sinks.

“Come on, even you should be able to figure out what I want to do.” He snips the scissors again and can’t stop himself from laughing when Wren shivers. “I’m not gonna lie, I’m pissed that I had to cut my hair off thanks to you, so it’s only fair you get a haircut too.”

Wren tenses up, his heart beating fast, his mind a mess of protests he can’t say out loud.

It’s just hair.

But it’s not, and waiting for the first cut is unbearable.

“You cut your hair yourself on SV-240, didn’t you?” Berkeley runs his fingers through Wren’s hair to untangle any knots, not caring enough to try and avoid pulling. “And then you regretted it.”

“A little bit,” Wren says through gritted teeth, looking down only to wince when his gaze stops at his bandaged hand, he cut off my fucking finger, it’s gone. “It’s just hair.”

“Bullshit. Don’t lie to me.” Wren gasps when Berkeley closes his fist in his hair and wrenches his head back. “I can’t wait to see you cry, Rackham, cause you will cry.”

He swallows, which every single time only serves to remind him about the collar and his throat being squeezed tight, when Berkeley grabs the sides of his head and forces him to look straight ahead. The scissors are freezing against his cheek, but when they disappear, it’s anything but a relief.

“Did you cry?” he asks, trying not to shiver when Berkeley separates a strand of his hair and puts it between the blades of the scissors; before he can brace himself, they close, making him flinch.

It’s just hair. It’s just hair.

“A little bit,” Berkeley sneers, cutting off another lock - not completely short, much to Wren’s confusion. “But I had no choice. With some time it’ll just grow back, right? Of course, you don’t have that kind of time.”

As much as Wren wants to respond, he doesn’t. His impending death is something he’d rather not protest against, not wanting Berkeley to take it as a reason to kill him sooner. He stays silent, doing his best to hide his shivering and forced breathing as brown hairs keep falling to the floor, some clinging to his skin, tickling and annoying him, and he can’t even brush them off.

“I’m afraid it won’t be a flattering look on you.” Berkeley clicks his tongue, not pausing his work for a moment.

“How tragic. Are you telling me you’re not a professional hairdresser?” Wren raises one eyebrow even as he struggles to hold back tears. It’s not just hair, it’s a part of himself that Berkeley is taking away from him with a promise of taking so much more.

“No, but I mostly don’t give a shit whether you’re a pretty corpse or not.”

There it is again, and Wren is sure that the reminders will only get more and more frequent, harder to ignore. Even now he can’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario, someone finding his body, maybe barely recognizing him after Berkeley’s done with him-

Pull yourself together.

I won’t die here.

The scissors keep cutting.

I’m going to escape or be saved, he’s going to get locked up, I’ll… I’ll…

“Alright, let’s see.” 

Berkeley grabs him by the hair and cuts a little bit more off.

Leaving just enough length to be able to get a good grip.

“Perfect.” Berkeley leans down to rest his chin on Wren’s shoulder and smiles. “We’re short-haired buddies now, how cool is that?”

He doesn’t get a verbal reply, but the tears glistening in Wren’s eyes are enough of an answer for him.

“Remember what this means,” he says quietly, laying his hands on Wren’s arms and giving them a light squeeze. “You may have gotten a taste of freedom, but now you’re back where you belong, as someone’s property, tied up and collared, and I can do whatever I want to your body, understand?”

A second’s pause makes it clear he’s expecting an answer, and Wren nods, averting his gaze.

“Ah-ah, look at yourself, Rackham.”

When he obeys, hating himself for it, Berkeley gently wraps his hand around his neck, teasing with his thumb just above the collar, smiling when Wren shudders.

“What do you see?”

When Daniel put him in front of a mirror, he did his best to snark. He was so different back then, scared, but determined, having only experienced being restrained, silenced, and beaten, which now seems like a laughably mild treatment. He’s still determined, he’s still hopeful, the last thing he wants to do is give up, but he recognizes that in his current situation, and with his current captor, following his spark will only lead to retaliation that he might not be able to handle.

And so he lets his despair talk instead, his voice barely audible, giving Berkeley the answer he probably wants more than all the others that come to mind, captive, idiot, pathetic crybaby.

“Property.”

"That's right."

~~~

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[springbreezes-and-peonies]

The Wishing Star

“……You REALLY promise this will work? Like this is a real thing and not…I dunno…a scam of yours or something Magolor?”

The spider-kind Floralian Taranza sat anxiously in one of the few seats onboard the dimensional traveler Magolor’s ship. He’d been tying and untying and generally fiddling with his red scarf for what felt like hours now. If what Magolor promised him was true, then everything would be better again. His whole world would be rosy again. But well, that was the problem with Magolor…he didn’t always tell the truth…He could be nice, and polite, but Taranza knew at heart he was a bit of a con artist…

“Look would I lie to you? Don’t answer that…But yes, it’s true. I’ve studied the Ancients, devoured knowledge about them for a LONG time. It’s how I got the Lor here, it’s how I learned to slip through dimensions, and it’s how I came to meet Kirby and you in the first place. These Clockwork Stars are real…they can grant the user any one wish. And when I say ANY wish? I mean ANY wish. Anything you want. When I heard about your uhm……situation…I decided, ‘who would be more deserving of a wish than my good friend Taranza? The stand-in King of Floralia! Who could deserve a wish more than him!’ And so I HAD to tell you!” Magolor enthused…maybe a little too much, before toning it down again.

“……Well yeah…and you made me promise to give you something in return…but you still haven’t told me what that something is…” Taranza stated, gazing curiously at Magolor with his four, front-facing eyes, his horns twitching a little as he thought. ‘What could he want from me? He’s such a trickster…I wonder what I have that he wants…’

“Don’t worry about that now! I haven’t even decided yet! I just feel I deserve some reward you know? For bringing you out to the Star and for not using the ONE wish myself heehee. I could’ve done that you know? Clockwork Stars are hard to find, and our little pink friend has destroyed two of them already…”

Magolor said, grinning a little to himself as he watched the Lor’s display system carefully.

‘Oh you’ll see what I want Taranza…and I know once that Star gives you what YOU want, you’ll be so happy…you won’t even think of saying no to my request! I want a seat of power in Floralia…and I want to see where you’ve kept that destroyed Dark Mirror…I know you’ve gotta still have it, and I can fix it…and once I do…I’m gonna see just what this mirror-world has to offer…’

“I suppose it doesn’t matter……whatever you want, if this works, will be fine…I…” Taranza frowned, looking down, clasping his six hands together.

“I just want to see her again……” He sighed, his silver hair falling into his face a little as he looked down.

“Welp! It shouldn’t be too long until we’re to that Star, and you WILL see her again! I know it will work Taranza buddy! I’ve read all about them!” Magolor enthused again, he was SURE it was the appropriate amount this time!

“Yeah…I……” Taranza began, but stopped just as suddenly, lost in his thoughts. He took a deep breath, and reached into his cloak, materializing the beautiful, tiny, pink bloom he’d picked from the Dreamstalk that had grown in his Queen’s place after her passing. He touched the flower petals so delicately, gazing at it closely, a look of longing in his four eyes.

“I just…hope it works…I hope she can remember our love…I…hope she is the Sectonia I knew and fell in love with…before that mirror changed her so much…” he sighed sadly, holding the flower to his chest gently, as he often did for comfort. In a way, it was all he had left of his wife and love.

“Don’t doubt me so much! It will work! And I bet, as long as you phrase it right, the Star will bring her back just as she was before her change, her true self! Just make sure to phrase your wish right!” Magolor explained, checking his monitors again. He WAS certain this would work. After all he’d studied a good deal about the Clockwork Stars the Ancients had built. They could be a little tricky, but as long as you were careful with your words, they’d give you just what you wanted.

“But what if I’m NOT careful enough?” Taranza asked, and his vision began to blur, as he felt his eight eyes burning with tears. “What if I don’t phrase things right or…or what if it doesn’t matter? What if the Star can only bring her back to her most recent state and it does, and she…she tries to warp and hurt everything again? I…I can’t stop her then! Not alone and I…I don’t know if I have the emotional strength to fight her anyway!” He began to cry so heavily, his thoughts overwhelming him as he remembered his Queen’s final day. All the time she’d spent under the mirror’s influence, she still would show him love, and affection on occasion, though it became more and more fleeting as time passed, as if part of her old self was trying to break through, but that day……

“If it brings her back like that…She…She even hurt ME in that state…I…that’s how I…I realized that…” Taranza could hardly speak from crying so much now, on the verge of hyperventilation. His thoughts were becoming too much. He wanted his beloved back, it had been a few years now, and still he missed her and dreamed of her every day, but the possibility of things going wrong was so overwhelming for him.

Magolor heard his voice cracking, and his cries becoming urgent, and he turned away from his monitors to face him. He could see tears streaming from all of his spider eyes, as he clutched the dream-blossom to his heart. A look of surprise and concern spread over Magolor’s face at the sight, and he rushed quickly to the spider-kind’s side.

“H-hey now…” He patted Taranza’s back gently. “Don’t worry too much about all that, it’s gonna be okay! I mean, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity! You can’t let it pass you by, by worrying so much about this stuff! It’s gonna be just fine, I’m sure of it!” Magolor was nervous to be in this position. He was not what anyone would call the comforting type, but he couldn’t help but feel moved by Taranza right now. He’d never really had any feelings for anyone the way Taranza had for his Queen. He’d basically been a loner his whole life, never part of a group. Never growing any tight bonds with anyone, certainly not relying on anyone for love and affection or much of anything really. He just went where he wanted, took what he wanted, and did what he wanted and that was that. But to see someone else like this…he couldn’t help but feel genuinely sympathetic to Taranza’s sorrows in this moment.

“I don’t s-see how you can be so sure……” Taranza shook his head, and looked into Magolor’s golden eyes, tears still streaming down his face.

“You’ve not wished on any of these Stars yourself…you’ve no idea what could go wrong and…and bringing a whole person back to life can’t be easy……” He sobbed a little more, looking at his dream-blossom once more, its petals so beautiful and pure, its scent so much like his Queen’s, the nostalgia it conjured up brought him both peace and heartache.

“Regardless I have to try…Everyday I spend without her…the pain is immeasurable…even after three years, it’s still so immeasurable……” He wiped his eyes some, but he continued to cry still, unable to sooth the pain he felt in his heart.

“And I owe it to her to keep trying whatever I can…because the mirror was my gift to her…Her death was my fault…I owe her a new life…a better life…” He sobbed, as he tried and failed to choke back his tears.

Magolor frowned sadly, and looked down. He couldn’t help but to feel a little ashamed of himself. All he’d ever wanted or longed for was…material. Power, titles, objects…but here he was, taking advantage of this man, struggling to be a good king to a broken kingdom, lost without the love of his life. In his grief, he would give Magolor anything if he could actually help him bring his wife back, and Magolor knew this to be the case…and just like with Kirby before, he was taking advantage. ‘No…I’m…not gonna go being all soft now over some widower…I’m. Not. A deal is a deal and…and he agreed! And besides! He’s getting something too! So it’s fine! It’s fine! Isn’t it…?’ Magolor’s thoughts were racing, and he looked at Taranza, his primary white eyes flooding with tears that showed no sign of stopping anytime soon.

‘HECK!!!’

Magolor wrapped his hands round Taranza, hugging him close. “You gotta stop thinking like that……You already told me, you just found the mirror randomly and when you found it, it LOOKED like a normal mirror. You had no way of knowing the power it held OR what it would do. So stop blaming yourself or……or I’m turning this Starcutter around! Okay?” Magolor said, he could hardly believe himself right now.

“Okay…” Taranza nodded, and hiccuped a little as they eased up some. “I’m just a-anxious…I’ve never been so close to a-actually getting her back Magolor…” he explained and hugged Magolor back with his six hands, being very careful of his dream-blossom as he did so.

“You just gotta practice your phrasing for when you talk to the Star okay? Here, we can try a little right now, since we’ll be there soon…” Magolor explained, and he stopped hugging him and cleared his throat.

“Just say something like: ‘I, Taranza wish for my wife Sectonia to be revived from the dead exactly as she was before encountering the dark mirror!’ Then it’s all very clear and there’s no way to get it wrong!” Magolor smiled a little, and looked at Taranza, awaiting his response.

Taranza wiped his eyes again, and mumbled softly to himself “I…Taranza wish for my wife Sectonia to be revived from the dead exactly as she was before encountering the dark mirror……” He stated, and repeated the statement over and over several times to be sure it would stay in his mind. He nodded to Magolor and smiled a little through his tears.

“Thanks…” he said, tucking his dream-bloom away in his cloak again as he felt his nerves beginning to settle once more.

Magolor nodded, and smiled warmly at him scratching one of the horn-like shapes on his hood shyly. “Yeah well, you know…anytime…” he said, and laughed awkwardly.

A beeping sound came from the monitors on the Lor Starcutter, and Magolor raced back over to check.

“Oh boy!” He exclaimed as he looked at the display. “ We’re here! Let’s go!” He grinned as he took one of Taranza’s hands and guided him out into space, where they would be face to face with the clockwork star. ‘Do I even care about my reward anymore? Am I just doing this to see him happy? He’s…lost so much…he deserves to have her back. He didn’t deserve to lose her! I want my reward but argh! I want him to be with his wife again!’ His thoughts were racing as they both floated out into the void of space.

Taranza looked up at the massive, gold clock-face in awe, and maybe a little bit in fear. Its eyes opened slowly and its expression was cold, apathetic, mechanical as it stared down at him. This was it. This thing, the size of an asteroid was going to be the key to bringing back his wife, his queen, his best friend. He just had to say the words exactly as they practiced. He just had to open his mouth…

Gears could be heard shifting and spinning slowly, and the soft, subtle, beeping of computers sounded faintly from within the Star, as its gaze shifted down coolly upon Magolor and Taranza.

“I am Star model: DWARF. Any request made to me shall be fulfilled to its completion and to the satisfaction of the requester.” The Star spoke clearly and mechanically to them.

“I am able to fulfill only one request per visit, and may only see one visitor per ten years. State your request if one is to be made. It will be fulfilled concisely, to the letter.” The star finished.

Taranza floated still, on the spot, unable to move or speak, until he felt Magolor push him gently forward, and heard him whisper encouragingly to him.

“Go on. Just like we practiced.”

He cleared his throat, and gazed up at the clock face…He took a deep breath and reached into his cloak again, calling the dream-blossom forth for comfort and peace of mind, gazing upon its petals before facing the Star once more.

“Star model DWARF…I…I, Taranza wish for my wife Sectonia to be revived from the dead exactly as she was before encountering the dark mirror!” He stated as clearly as he could, Magolor mouthing the words with him as he spoke, crossing his fingers and closing his eyes despite himself.

Gears could be heard whirring within the star, and its eyes turned round and round in its sockets before gazing squarely at Taranza once more.

“Your wish is to revive the soul and life force of the departed Floralian Queen Sectonia. Her soul and being as they were before the transformation brought upon her by the dark mirror. Is that correct?” DWARF asked for confirmation, its eyes cool and focused, unblinking.

“Y-yes. Precisely.” Taranza nodded in agreement. He couldn’t wait. He was shaking with anxiety and anticipation. ‘Oh my queen. How I’ve missed you. Oh to hold you again…to feel your embrace…to see your beautiful eyes gazing into mine…to be at your beck and call…to feel my purpose return…my Queen, my Sectonia…my dearest friend…my flower…my EVERYTHING. It’s here, right here…finally…’ Taranza’s head was spinning so much, he felt his cheeks warm with blush and his heart pounding in his chest like a ceremonial drum. He could already see her sweet face, already feel her six hands that fit so perfectly in his, already hear her loving voice urging him on, calling his name to ask something, anything of him. Already…already…

The sounds of gears shifting hard stopped his daydreams short.

“To bring someone back from the dead is one of the largest of requests. It is possible but an energy force will need to be exchanged.” The Star spoke, and the cold eyes of its face glowed a moment and turned abruptly to face Magolor. “He will be sufficient.” It said coolly, and a ball of gold light surrounded Magolor, freezing him in place.

“H-hey!” Magolor tried to call out, but no sound came from him. He couldn’t move. He was stuck in place, totally helpless. ‘Oh no…a power source I…I’m an IDIOT! AGH! I should have known! I should have known! This isn’t just some party favor he’s asking for! It takes a soul to get a soul! I’m so stupid! You wanted power Magolor…well now you’re about to power this blasted Star!’ His gold eyes were wide with fear. He was completely at Taranza’s mercy. ‘There’s no way…He’ll give me up…I know he will…I saw how much he misses her…he loves her…In his position I would do the same…Heck I would do the same just for riches! I can’t even blame him. Damn!’

All of Taranza’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief as he stared up at the clock face. ‘It…It’s going to take Magolor to…But…’ He shook his head and focused hard.

“W-wait!” Taranza exclaimed frantically.

“Y-you need him as a power source to fulfill my wish? I…That would kill him!” Taranza said, waving all six of his little hands frantically.

“To revive the dead, a living thing must be exchanged as a source of energy within my core. I would need a strong source to use as a battery, as Queen Sectonia of Floralia was a powerful being. The mage has immense powers and knowledge. His life force would be sufficient to revive the Queen.” The star explained, awaiting Taranza’s response.

Taranza looked at Magolor, stunned speechless as he saw Magolor’s panicked, golden eyes staring back at him from his bubble. He was completely trapped, completely helpless. Everything was up to Taranza. Everything was his choice now.

“I…revoke my wish…I wish for Magolor’s release instead……He is my friend…I cannot lose him……” Taranza spoke, and his voice trembled and quaked as he did, all six of his hands shaking as he held his dream-blossom close. “I would not be here but for him…I…cannot exchange his life for my Queen’s…” his voice cracked, and he looked down. He could feel his heart breaking all over again, but Magolor…he’d consoled him. He’d shown him genuine kindness on this journey. He could not offer up his life to some Star. It was not his life to give.

“Friend……?” Magolor spoke again, but still no sound came out. He suddenly felt his limbs loosen up and the bubble around him disappeared as the gears within the clockwork star turned, its eyes slowly closing once more…

“Request fulfilled. Star model DWARF Entering SLEEP.” It spoke, and the whirring of mechanical sounds slowly died down.

Taranza burst into tears as he watched the Star’s eyes close, all hope of seeing his Queen again fading with the light from those eyes. “What’s done…is done…” he muttered quietly, sniffing gently at his dream blossom before tucking it back into his cloak, returning with Magolor to the Starcutter.

Magolor boarded with him in silence and entered the coordinates for Popstar into the Lor to begin their journey home. He wanted to give him a moment to self-sooth. He doubted he wanted to hear his voice at the moment. After a time, he finally spoke up.

“I……I’m sorry…I got your hopes all up and I…I didn’t think it worked like that…” Magolor could feel himself tearing up a little too. He shook his head. “Taranza…I…I did have…less than stellar motives for wanting to help at first but…but after talking to you I…I genuinely wanted to help. I mean that. Honest! From the bottom of my black hole of a heart…” Magolor said, speaking softly to him.

Taranza shook his head sadly. He felt beside himself with grief, but he was happy that at least Magolor wasn’t dead now too. He couldn’t have gone through with such a thing. Not ever…

“Y-you still took me out here…to the middle of space…I…What do you want as a reward…?”

He wiped his eyes sadly, he felt so defeated as he looked at Magolor.

Magolor thought hard for a moment. He could still make his request. He could still get his reward…power…magic…knowledge. It all could be his. He shook his head.

“Well I…You said I…uhm…back there, to that Star, you said I’m your friend??? I…don’t really, particularly have many friends…maybe…my reward…can be your friendship. If you uhm…really wanna be friends with a con artist like me…” Magolor said, scratching the back of his head nervously.

‘Curses! That pink puffball and his little Dream Team, found-family crap is rubbing off on me! But…Taranza will be a valuable friend…he knows a lot about magic. And…he said we’re friends…’

Taranza looked at him a moment in stunned silence, and he floated over to him and hugged him tight. “Mhm…You are my friend, it’s true…I’ll be your friend for sure. You’ve…helped me a lot today, even if things didn’t work out…”. He smiled weakly, happy with Magolor’s requested reward.

Magolor smiled a little in surprise before gently shoving Taranza away. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. All that mushy stuff. I don’t do hugs alright.” He laughed a little and looked at Taranza. “Anyway. Thanks for, ya know, not sacrificing my life energy to a cold, wish-granting, computer thing to resurrect your dead-wife and all that…I uhm…really appreciate it. I’m really grateful…” Magolor said, and looked back at his monitors, watching the Lor chart their course.

Taranza laughed softly, wiping his eyes again as he sat back down in one of the passenger chairs, sinking back comfortably in his seat. He felt so exhausted.

“Yeah…Anytime…” he said, sighing deeply, a mix of emotions running through his brain. ‘Maybe life is for the living now…and I should start paying attention to the people I have with me still…instead of grasping constantly for what is lost and gone…’. He thought to himself, and he closed his eyes to rest. ‘What a terrible, wonderful day…’

[aquilathefighter]

smapril day 7

Day 07  gloves | ropework

Cowboy AU, for some reason??? the muse does what it wants

sending kisses to @staroftheendless for the prompts <3

Sheriff Hob Gadling hauls in the masked bandit, Dream of the Endless Gang, right as the sun comes up. He ties up the horse outside the sheriff’s office and helps the bound man off the saddle, marching him up the stairs inside.

The sheriff’s always been good with a length of rope, but these bindings are his best work yet. Dream flexes his wrists against the bindings, his gloves protecting his pale skin from the rough fibers.

“Thought I told you to stay away from here, ya varmint,” Hob says, pushing Dream down on his knees. “Guess I’ll have to make good on my last threat.” He bends down and pulls the gloves off, tossing them to the side.

He walks around to Dream’s front side and unbuttons his pants. Dream’s mouth starts to water as Hob pulls out his cock, thick and ruddy and hard already.

“Look at you, bandito. You’ve been waiting for this since I caught ya, haven’t you?” Hob asks, grinning down at him. The corner of Dream’s mouth flicks up before he opens it, flicking out his tongue in the way he knows drives the sheriff crazy.

Hob steps into his space (finally!) and places the tip of his cock on the bandit’s, brushing his long hair out of the way. Dream begins to suck, moaning at the salty taste of him. He focuses his attentions on the head, little kitten licks to the spot that makes Hob tighten his hand in his hair. Hob groans and bucks his hips forward, unable to hold back any longer. Dream takes the hint, swallowing him down to the root, obscene sounds coming out as he bobs his head faster and faster.

Hob tugs on his hair, pulling another groan out of Dream’s mouth as he licks at the slit.

“I-I’m gonna—” Hob shouts as Dream swallows him down again, heaving in the scent trapped in the dark hairs at his base.

Dream sucks him through his orgasm, swallowing down his seed like it is the finest wine. As he reaches oversensitivity, Hob pulls back, tucking himself back into his pants. He helps Dream to stand, untying his hands and rubbing at the red marks around his wrists. He intertwines their fingers, pulling Dream toward the stairs to his room above the office.

“My offer for clemency still stands, y’know. Could have this all the time if you wanted.” Hob says.

Dream shakes his head. “But where would be the fun in that, sheriff?”

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 6 - "you lied to me"

I may have shed a tear while writing this one.

This is a fantasy AU!! No teacher/student!!

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 971

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

As much as he tried to run away, Izuku had pulled him in like a magnet. They had fallen hard and fast for each other, faster than Shouta had in any of his lifetimes. 

The time came to confess his truth, to finally break off their relationship and part ways. It would be easier this way, Shouta could let Izuku live on in his memory, young and vibrant as he was. 

But Izuku always did love ruining Shouta’s plans. 

“Shouta, it’s okay. I- I am too.”

He didn’t think he’d ever felt such a feeling before. Was it relief? Distress, maybe… Hope. 

“Why… why didn’t you say anything?” He examined Izuku’s face, trying to wring out any deceit. 

His lover shrugged, smiling. The barely-there crow's feet made an appearance as he nuzzled into Shouta’s hand. 

“Probably for the same reason as you. I wanted to protect this. It wouldn’t work if one of us was mortal and the other…”

Shouta frowned, “I know most of the other immortals in the area, I can’t believe I never noticed you.” he swiped Izuku’s freckled cheek with his thumb. 

“I’ve…” Izuku sighed, “I’ve had a tough life, Shouta. I’m just grateful that I now get to spend the rest of it with you.”

Eternity… he doesn’t say. 

Truly, Shouta should’ve known it was too good to be true. 

He let himself believe that it was possible, that the universe had finally granted him some sort of reprieve. 

Maybe it was his desperation that led him to ignore the signs. Izuku’s aging, his spirit, his beauty. 

Living for as long as Shouta had, you would lose your mind a little more with each passing decade. Cursed immortals like him don’t receive the blessing of death, but rather gradual insanity. 

It was all good, all wrong. 

Not two years later, it all came crashing down. 

Izuku had begun looking tired and lethargic. His smile was strained and his movements painful. Shouta had insisted he go to the healer, ignoring the blaring alarm in his head that screamed this was wrong. He should be regenerating faster than his ailment could harm him. 

“Shouta, don’t worry.” He brushed off every time he showed concern. “I’m fine, they can’t help.”

There was something he wasn’t telling him. 

Weeks later, Izuku had awoken sometime in the night, and he hadn’t returned. After Shouta lay there unable to rest for some time, he threw the covers off of his bed and trudged into the dark of the house. 

He found Izuku curled around the toilet, sitting in a pool of sweat and vomit. 

Immediately he leaped into action, gathering the shivering man into his arms and lifting him. Izuku clung to his shoulders, whimpering at the movement. 

He rushed them to the nearest healer, doing his best to keep Izuku conscious throughout the trip. 

The old woman on duty took one look at Izuku and sighed, waving at Shouta to come through to the back. 

They put him on an open cot, and Shouta immediately forewent the waiting bench, kneeling beside Izuku on the dirt. 

“Shit, you’ve gotta tell me what’s going on, Izuku. Please, I know you’re hiding something. Is your curse doing this to you? I don’t understand…”

“Love,” Izuku smiled, motioning for Shouta’s hand. He complied, holding the smaller hand in his own. Izuku’s body had always been small, almost dangerously so, but Shouta chalked it up to genetics. He never met Izuku’s family, assuming they’d passed decades or even centuries ago, like his own. 

But now, with the moonlight pouring in through the window, illuminating Izuku’s translucent skin, he’s sure he had it all wrong. 

He waited a moment, allowing Izuku to collect himself and breathe. 

“There’s a letter… in my chest at home. I explain more…” He sighed, eyebrows quivering, “I can’t imagine I have much longer. I’ve already been lucky.”

“Izuku you’re…” acting as though you’re already dead. “You lied to me about being immortal,” Shouta finished, using all his power to stay strong until he got answers. But watching the tears swell in Izuku’s eyes nearly broke him. 

“I’m sorry for deceiving you, Shouta. It was never with malicious intent, please believe me.” He took a shuddering breath, “I never had long for this life.”

Shouta brought Izuku’s hand to his forehead, feeling the cool skin and pressing a kiss into his wrist. 

Shouta would never be angry at him, and he needed Izuku to know, but he wouldn’t dare interrupt him now. 

“I knew you were cursed when we met all those years ago. I knew I was dying then, too.” Izuku explains, nodding to the woman when she brought him another pillow to prop himself on. “As much as I knew it would hurt, I was selfish. I fell in love with you, and I knew you would leave if I was honest. I just…” He sobs, caressing Shouta’s face. 

Shouta shakes his head, allowing his burning eyes to well, “Izuku you don’t need to justify yourself. I’m so grateful for the time we’ve had together. If I’d have known… I would’ve spent every waking moment treasuring you.”

Izuku chuckled, “You couldn’t possibly make me feel more loved than I already have. My time with you was the happiest of my life. I’ve been alone for so many years, and though it was greedy, I didn’t want to feel that loneliness in death. I know you’ll always be with me, just like I’ll always be with you, Shouta.”

He pulled himself up onto Izuku’s cot and took the man into his arms. 

“I love you more than anything, Izuku.” He murmurs, pressing kisses into Izuku’s crown. 

“Not more than I love you,” Izuku whispers back. 

He took his last breath with a sleepy smile on his face. 

Forever young, just like Shouta.

[milflewis]

schumilton + 'im not letting you go:

bc you’ve been giving out that i apparently only write you angsty schumilton

“Have you seen my —“ Mick laughs, cutting himself off as Lewis lifts up an arm, Mick’s jumper in his hand.

Lewis smiles back at him, something soft at the edges, face shadowed by the sun that is only starting to rise, barely peeking through the nearly drawn curtains.

Mick drops his shoes and walks over to the bed. Lewis doesn’t say anything, drawing back his hand so Mick has to climb onto the sheets to follow it.

“Hi,” Mick says, swinging a leg over Lewis’s thighs, hand low on his stomach. His skin is still sleep warm and smooth. Mick presses down gently on his palm, feeling the muscle and tissue beneath him.

Lewis drapes the jumper over Mick’s back, the sleeves dangling down on either side of his neck, and runs a hand through his hair, fingers digging into the short hair at the nape of his neck.

“Can I,” Lewis asks, eyes flickering down to Mick’s mouth and back up again. Asking is a thing for Lewis, Mick realised last night, a little surprised but maybe he shouldn’t have been, considering everything.

Mick says yes and then Lewis is kissing him, breath morning stale and hot. His other hand comes up to hold Mick’s chin, fingers splayed across his cheek. They don’t shake.

He licks into Mick’s mouth slow and deliberate, Mick’s head spinning, before pulling away. His eyes are closed, lashes long and dark.

Mick watches him frown a little before smiling, ducking in to press a lingering kiss into the corner of Mick’s mouth. Mick’s stomach aches dully like it always does when he eats too many sweets way too fast. When he opens his eyes, he doesn’t seem startled at Mick already looking back at him.

Lewis hums, “Thank you,” thumb lightly rubbing the length of Mick’s jaw.

“Yeah,” Mick says, like an idiot, clearing his throat. “Yes.”

Lewis’s mouth ticks up into a smile, the lines in his cheeks deepening. He tugs at the sleeves of Mick’s jumper, crossing them over each other and uncrossing them.

“I like this colour. It suits you.”

Mick already knows that. He doesn’t ask Lewis if he remembers looking at Mick at the end of the 2023 season celebration, eyes bright, shirt unbuttoned save for one, because he wants Mick to die, and spreading his hands over Mick’s shoulders, warm and heavy, saying you should wear this shade of blue more often, Schumacher. Brings out your eyes. Those killer baby blues.

“I’ve been told,” Mick says and Lewis does this half shrug thing that he does, scrunching up his face.

“A tenner that it wasn’t Sebastian that told you,” Lewis says, and Mick laughs, climbing off him, slightly awkwardly.

When he pulls the jumper over his head, the room looks softer, washed out, all smudged lines and grey corners. Lewis has his arms folded behind his head, jesus, and the sheets just barely cover him up to his hips.

There is something strange in his face that Mick saw last night right before Lewis kissed him, and again, this morning. For all that things are easy between them, easier than Mick ever thought possible, easier than with most, he still doesn’t always know how to talk to Lewis.

Sebastian would know, Mick thinks and the thought is only a touch bitter. Personal growth.

“What time is your flight?” Mick asks, leaning against the back of a chair as he tugs on one shoe, not bothering to untie it.

“Later. I’m flying back to Monaco with Valtteri and Tiffany.”

Mick nods. “I have an early one.”

Lewis looks at the window and back at the lightening shadows in the room and then at Mick. “Yeah,” he says, eyebrows raised. “I know.”

“Right.” Mick swallows. He already told Lewis he had to leave because of an early flight when he got out of bed in the first place. He knows.

His skin goosebumps and prickles under his jumper. He rolls his shoulders. Lewis is still smiling with his eyes, face doing something very set and very careful.

Are you, Mick thinks, suddenly, mouth gone dry. He is realising that he might’ve gotten something very very wrong.

“You seeing Seb over the summer break?” Mick asks, slipping his hands into his jean pockets before taking them out again.

“We were talking about it, yeah.” The sun is up higher, the grey of the sun melting into orange. There is a cut of light across Lewis’s ribs. “He says he wants to show me what he’s done with his greenhouse.”

“That’s cool.” Mick plants his feet flat on the carpet, curling his toes in his shoes. Just take the corner. Don’t brake too early. “I’ll be in Switzerland too. Because I live there. As well. You know. If you wanted to catch up.”

Lewis blinks at him.

“Grab breakfast,” Mick continues. “Talk.”

He has never seen Lewis nervous is the thing. Not really. Not where it sinks into you and shakes everything you’re doing. That’s why he didn’t recognise it on him.

He had thought they both understood what last night meant, what it would mean going forward. He thinks of Lewis waiting until Mick says yes to something every time, even as Mick knows Lewis isn’t a fan of talking, and watches Lewis’s face crack open.

I’m not letting you go, Mick thinks. I am my father’s son, for better and for worse, and I have you now.

You have me, Mick thinks.

“Talk,” Lewis says, wryly. It’s been years and there’s still something so satisfying to surprising him.

“Yes.” Mick shifts on his feet. “I wanted to get breakfast today but. Early flight.” He shrugs.

Lewis laughs, the sound shaking loose from him. He throws one arm over his face, grinning. “Early flight,” he repeats. It’s a soft sound. Mick would like to hear it again.

“Yeah, yeah.” Lewis shakes his head, lowering his arm, eyes warm. This is the Lewis he knows. This is the one he stands next to in the garage and makes laugh. This is the one who sends Mick pictures of Roscoe, even as he’s being atted in the drivers group chat. This is the Lewis he kissed last night. “Get. Go. You’ll miss it.”

Mick waves a hand, picking up his coat from the floor. “We’ll see each other? In Switzerland? Over the break?”

“Yeah,” Lewis props himself up in his elbows as Mick walks backwards towards the door. Mick wants to lick his shoulders. “Call me when you land.”

Mick grins, giving him a sloppy salute and then, blowing an air kiss, something in his stomach squirming as he sees Lewis flop back into the bed, smiling up at the ceiling.

[dragonsarecool]

June of Doom Day 28 - Gag

A/N: Professor Irving’s minions ensure that Doc is lured into a trap. Can be read as a sequel to Day 17 Struggle. Set during Issue 4 of Who is Marty McFly? (BTTF #15)

“I’m so sorry this isn’t the rescue you expected, Marty.”

“Mmmm.”

“I admit it is partially my own fault; I shouldn’t have come in ‘guns blazing’, as they say.”

“Mmm.”  Seriously Doc, can you stop apologising and start thinking of an escape plan? It’s embarrassing enough that you had to find me like this.

“I should’ve expected Irving to be the type to spring a trap! Why the hell didn’t I realise?”

“Mmm-hmm?” It wasn’t me struggling and trying to yell through all this tape on my face?

“I don’t suppose he gave you any indications as to what else his plans contained?”

“Mm-mnn.”

“Shame. I was hoping he would do the stereotypical villain monologue. That would’ve made our job a lot easier.”

Yeah no shit, Doc.

“Are you hurt at all, Marty?”

My ego will need some resuscitation, but otherwise no. “Mm-mnn."

“Good. Apologies…I should’ve asked that first.”

It’s okay, Doc. You were kinda busy swearing at Irving.

Both men sat silently in the darkness, cursing that Irving hadn’t been bothered to leave the light on. Marty’s eyes had adjusted enough that he could recognise Doc’s outline, but otherwise had no idea what else was there.

There was a sudden rustling, as if Doc was squirming around in his pockets for something. Marty’s eyebrows quirked as he strained to see through the darkness. “Mmmhmm?” 

“It’s a…lucky…thing that Irving…didn’t know…I was a boy scout!” Doc gasped with relief, his outline suddenly rising from the chair he’d been tied to. 

If it could have moved, Marty’s jaw would’ve fallen open. “Mmhmm!” How the hell did you pull that off, Doc?!

“It was good fortune that Irving was lazy enough to use some simple cord to bind my hands, Marty,” Doc explained quickly, fumbling around in the air for the cord to the singular light bulb. “He was also not very good at creating tough knots- ah-ha! There it is.”

Marty groaned involuntarily as his retinas were suddenly flooded with light, blinking furiously in an attempt to see Doc. The older man rushed from the light bulb over to Marty, his eyes flickering over the younger man in concern. “Marty, you didn’t tell me they punched you?”

Marty’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Mmm?” Where?

“You’ve got a spectacular bruise forming on your right cheek.” Doc took the liberty of gently touching the afflicted area, eliciting a squeak of pain from the teenager.

Okay Doc, I believe you! 

“And they’ve left a laceration on your eyebrow too-“

“Mmm-mmn!” Okay Doc, seriously! Can you untie me already? 

Doc fiddled with his fingertips, struggling to pry the edge of the tape away from Marty’s face. “Really, Marty, you should’ve told me you were hurt!”

Oh yeah? How was I supposed to-GAHHH!

An involuntary groan came from Marty as the tape was swiftly lifted from his skin, his eyes watering with the pain. The second the adhesive departed his lips, he found himself gasping for air. “…SHIT!”

Doc cringed sympathetically. “Sorry…there was no polite way of removing it.”

I believe you, Doc.

A/N: Apologies for the delay! Being diagnosed with endometriosis means I've been in a lot of pain :(

[mistypurplespark]

Chapter 37: White Deer

Translator(s): Zryuu

Editor(s): juurensha

Their weapons clashed with resounding clangs. The black armoured general showed his left hand -- he was actually wielding the other dragon claw as he fought with Xiao Shan. Xiao Shan covered his nose and held his breath, his speed clearly slowing down by a huge margin. He had to withdraw from the fog every once in awhile, yet he would always be able to rush in right when the black armoured general was about to swing its sabre down on Xiang Shu and Chen Xing to parry its blade!

Chen Xing’s eyes appeared to be glazed over. At that moment, the Heart Lamp’s strength was being injected into Xiang Shu in a constant stream. His meridians were like streams and rivers that flickered with a white light as they slowly converged towards one area, all the way until they met at Xiang Shu’s chest.

With an explosive flash, Chen Xing suddenly found himself in the midst of a wilderness. Ah right, these were Xiang Shu’s thoughts.

The world was vast, and Xiang Shu knelt in the middle of this vast wilderness. In front of him lay a white cloth, in which a corpse was struggling constantly. He gasped and shivered as he slowly untied the head covering of the cloth that wrapped the corpse -- only to see the gray, ferocious face of the living corpse that his father, Shulü Wen, had turned into.

Crows circled in the sky as they looked covetously at the corpse on the ground.

“Xiang Shu!” Chen Xing ran over and shouted, “Wake up! You’ve been possessed!”

Xiang Shu turned a deaf ear to him. He held a dagger, his hand shivering madly, and struggled to impale his father, who was still struggling around,

with the dagger.

The cries of the crows travelled over in waves, becoming louder and louder. Finally, Xiang Shu swung the dagger down forcefully, and just when he was about to dismember his dead father for the sky burial, Chen Xing had lunged at him and hugged him -- his right hand firmly grasping the tip of Xiang Shu’s dagger!

“Wake up!” Chen Xing shouted.

Xiang Shu raised his head and stared at Chen Xing in disbelief. Fresh blood splattered all over Chen Xing’s palm. A sharp pain stung him, but he knew that this was just an illusion. Then Chen Xing put Xiang Shu’s head in front of his shoulder, and the dagger in Xiang Shu’s hand fell to the ground with a “dang”. The intense light from the Heart Lamp burst forth like a sea of light.

In the valley.

The fog gradually receded from the two of them. Crows rushed towards the center, and within an instant, resentment converged towards the black armoured general. With the claw in the general’s left hand, he lifted up Xiao Shan on the spot and sent him flying. Xiao Shan slammed into a cliff headfirst, and blood streamed down his head as he fell. Another swing of the sabre -- in a moment, it was going to impale through both Xiang Shu and Chen Xing, who were in each other’s arms, at the same time.

King Akele woke up.

King Akele let out a mad roar. He picked up the weapon beside him and forcefully rammed it into the black armoured general!

The white light converged once again, and as if with a sudden clap of thunder, they had returned to the prison underneath Xiangyang City. Xiang Shu woke up, opening his eyes slightly. His lips moved, and he seemed as if he wanted to say something. Within the darkness, Chen Xing’s whole body was enveloped in a warm light as he looked down at him.

“I know what you’re afraid of.” Chen Xing gasped.

Xiang Shu said slowly, “I wanted to save my father, but I didn’t expect to actually kill him instead. In the end, that was what I had to do, I was also afraid...so I could only...give him...a sky burial...while he was alive...”

Chen Xing stared dazedly at Xiang Shu and replied, “He was already dead then. He had turned into a living corpse, and he wouldn’t have recognised who you were anymore.”

Xiang Shu, “I...I don’t know. Ever since then, I really couldn’t, couldn’t forget that day...I didn’t even dare to let any of my clansman see, how I sat alone in the wilderness, knife after knife, into my father...”

Chen Xing lowered his head, placing his forehead against Xiang Shu’s.

“We are but mere lodgers while alive; we only return to our true home in death.” Chen Xing murmured, “What you buried was just a layer of skin that was being exploited by someone else. His yin and yang souls had returned to the heavens the moment he died.”

“Look, the stars are eternal.” Chen Xing looked up. The dark prison transformed into an endless night sky. “Every single one of us is a creature within this river.”

Xiang Shu gradually calmed down. He lifted his hand, as if he wanted to touch the elusive, dimly discernible starry river in the night sky. Even within the long night when silence had fallen on all magic, there were still countless stars shining with a dazzling and brilliant radiance.

Chen Xing held Xiang Shu’s hand, whispering, “Just like how King Akele came here from thousands of miles away just to find out the truth behind his son’s, Youduo’s, death... if your father knows, he definitely wouldn’t blame you.”

Xiang Shu nodded.

“Wake up ba, Protector.” Chen Xing hugged Xiang Shu as he knelt on the ground. With both eyes closed, he said in a low voice, “Expel.”

Suddenly, blazing white light filled the valley, and like an avalanche, it swept out in all directions!

Chen Xing lay feebly on his side on the ground. Xiang Shu grabbed his heavy sword and placed it on his shoulder, creating an intense, flickering arc of light within this dark night. The black armoured general somersaulted in mid-air, and a group of crows flew over. However, right in the next moment within that fan-shaped white light, the heavy sword miraculously transformed into a giant bow!

Chen Xing, “!!!”

Xiang Shu didn’t understand what had just happened either, but he made a prompt decision and pulled the shining bowstring back. Following which, a cluster of white light arrows spilled into the sky; all of the crows in the air were shot by the light arrows, then exploded into black vapour before disappearing.

The giant bow transformed into a heavy sword once again. Xiang Shu held the sword up and pointed it at the black armoured general. Just when he was about to rush forward, that general turned into black fire meteors that flew south and disappeared completely.

Xiang Shu dared not give chase again. He turned around to look at Chen Xing, who was lying on the ground. Chen Xing felt that after mustering all his energy to activate the Heart Lamp just now, his heart throbbed for awhile, and he didn’t even dare to breathe too heavily.

“Chen Xing?!” Xiang Shu knelt down on one knee and wanted to pick Chen Xing up, but Chen Xing nodded with much difficulty to signal that he was okay.

“It hurt my souls a bit,” Chen Xing gasped for awhile before answering, “I’ll be fine after a short rest.”

The bitingly cold fog gradually dispersed, yet Xiao Shan let out a huge shout, his whole head covered in blood as he rushed towards them. Xiang Shu held up his sword vigilantly, but Xiao Shan neither paid attention to him nor stopped. He swept by the other two and rushed right into the deepest part of the valley.

Xiang Shu’s brows were locked in a deep furrow. Chen Xing was about to ask about what had happened, but Xiang Shu said, “I wanted to lure that monster away at first, but by some chance, I stepped into the valley and unexpectedly discovered King Akele...”

“Get up, go in to take a look.” Chen Xing felt like this deep valley contained too many mysteries. “Where’s Akeles? Akeles!”

Chen Xing cried out in surprise and dashed to the rock wall, only to see King Akele lying under a piece of rock. The side of his neck was covered in blood -- in order to protect the two of them, King Akele had been struck by that black armoured general’s sabre, which had sliced through the blood vessels in his neck.

Chen Xing hurriedly tried to stop the bleeding for him, but he was clearly too late. Xiang Shu pressed down on King Akele’s wound. Half of King Akele’s body was covered in blood. His mouth opened a little, but no sound could be heard.

Xiang Shu looked up at Chen Xing. Chen Xing was beside himself with sorrow as tears streamed down his face. He grit his teeth and shook his head at Xiang Shu -- he could no longer be saved.

Xiang Shu could only tighten his grip on King Akele’s hand that was covered in fresh blood, yet King Akele smiled with much difficulty. His lips moved a little, and the other two could discern that he was mouthing the words “Nadoro”.

-- the child that Chen Xing had delivered himself, the child who the Great Chanyu Shulü Kong had named. King Akele nodded.

Chen Xing wiped his tears while Xiang Shu placed his heavy sword aside. He knelt on the ground and said to King Akele in the Xiongnu language, “Rest assured of our tribesmen’s safety. King Akele, Guwang will resolve Youduo’s pain for you. You have already made amends for your past mistakes. Please return to the heavens and earth with the Dragon God.” After speaking, he motioned for Chen Xing to stop crying, making a gesture to get him to wipe away his tears.

So King Akele closed his eyes in peace.

The other two were silent for a long time. Chen Xing let out a prolonged sigh, his bereavement not yet over.

A voice came from deep within the valley that said slowly, “Both of you, please come in. Thank you, Wielder of the Heart Lamp, I’m finally...free, during these last moments.”

Chen Xing abruptly looked up. Xiang Shu carried King Akele’s corpse as he got up, and the two of them faced the depths of the valley together.

All of the fog dispersed and a small path appeared within the valley shaded by trees. It was lined with black, withered dead trees and dried up rivers, as if it had been haunted by resentment for a long time before turning into a lonely, deathly still valley. Seeing this vestige, during times when spiritual Qi of the heavens and earth was still abundant, it must have been an extremely serene and beautiful paradise.

Chen Xing picked up the dragon claw Cangqiong Yilie on the ground and followed Xiang Shu into the valley, only to see a huge cemetery. However, all of the graves were already empty.

At the place where heavy, withered vines intertwined, high above at the edge of the cemetery was a dried up lake. On the other end of the lake, the voice was heard again saying, “This is the cemetery of the ancient Xiongnus. You can place King Akele here.”

Xiang Shu put King Akele’s corpse into one of the graves. That voice continued, “Come up now ba, I don’t have much time left.”

Translator's Comment:

One of my favourite Chen Xing lines finally appeared ;-;

“Look, the stars are eternal.” Chen Xing looked up. The dark prison transformed into an endless night sky. “Every single one of us is a creature within this river.”

Chapter 37.2: White Deer

Translator(s): Zryuu

Editor(s): juurensha

The dried up lake was encircled by layers of withered trees. During exuberant times, this place had mountains, lakes, waterfalls, and giant trees with twisting and intertwining roots. But now, it had become an eerie, ghostly land.

There was an islet in the middle of the dry lake. On the islet, a young man clothed in white robes sat under a tree who looked around Chen Xing’s age. Xiao Shan squatted beside him, and like a wolf, he had one leg raised up as he kept scratching the back of his ears, and he was grunting as he gesticulated to that white robed young man.

“My name is Lu Ying,” that young man said softly, “I’m sorry, I can only talk to you while sitting like this. Because of Shi Hai’s Devil God blood, all of my strength has been sapped away.”

Chen Xing had a vague premonition that they had come to the right place.

After Xiao Shan scratched his itch, he moved a little and blocked the young man called Lu Ying, studying Xiang Shu with distrust in his eyes. Chen Xing handed him the other claw. Xiao Shan accepted it and put it on.

“I’ve seen you before,” Xiang Shu suddenly said.

“I’ve seen you before too,” Lu Ying said, “You’re the human Great Chanyu Shulü Wen’s son, Chi Le Chuan’s little master. I’ve seen you from afar many years ago, by Barkol Lake.”

“Human...” Chen Xing said, “You’re... wait! You! You’re...” Lu Ying said wearily, “Yes, I’m a yao.”

At that moment, Lu Ying turned around slightly. Under the light of the stars, Chen Xing clearly saw a full view of him and suddenly exclaimed!

At first, half of Lu Ying’s body that was facing them was that of an elegant and handsome young man who only seemed about 16 or 17 years old. However, the other half of his body hidden within the shadows was already so rotted that eerie white bones were exposed, and his black viscera could be vaguely seen. Chen Xing quickly walked over and knelt down in front of Lu Ying to inspect his abnormality.

Xiao Shan instantly became nervous, yet Lu Ying motioned to Xiao Shan that it was fine. He said, “Xiao Shan’s just worried about my body, please excuse him.”

Xiang Shu slowly walked over and studied Xiao Shan and Lu Ying.

“Is he a yao?” As Chen Xing examined Lu Ying, he glanced at Xiao Shan. Xiao Shan then climbed behind Lu Ying to find something.

Lu Ying answered, “He’s human like you. But before the wolf god died, he passed his yao powers to him in order to save his life.”

“Who’s the wolf god?” Xiang Shu asked, frowning.

“The other god who guards the sacred mountain Carosha with me after the Dragon God, Zhuyin, descended upon the human world... But for you exorcists, he should be called a big yao instead.”

“Wu.” Chen Xing inspected Lu Ying’s body, only to find that most of his body had already rotted away. His body had clearly been corroded by some strong toxin, and he really couldn’t do anything to help.

“Can’t be saved,” Lu Ying said, “If silence hadn’t befallen all magic, there could still be some hope. Throughout the past several hundreds of years, I’ve racked my brains for all sorts of ways. In this world, only the Heart Lamp can get rid of the demonic Qi for me, but the you now can’t do it.”

Chen Xing frowned. “Demonic Qi.”

“After I was infected with the Devil God blood, my viscera started rotting,” Lu Ying answered, “Only by summoning the spiritual Qi of the heavens and

earth and using the Heart Lamp to forcibly purify my corporeal body can my life then be saved.”

Xiao Shan fished out a very small piece amber waist token from the tree behind Lu Ying. He handed it to Chen Xing, motioning for him to hold it.

Chen Xing, “?”

Lu Ying whispered, “The phoenix’s ashes are sealed inside that. I once thought that perhaps the phoenix’s strength from its centennial fire bath rebirth could rebuild my body in passing. But after the Silence of All Magic, even the phoenix would not be able to reincarnate. Save it, and when all magic is reawakened, it might still have a chance to be reborn.”

Chen Xing looked down at the waist token, only to see flickering ashes sealed within the amber. He had once read about it in books: the phoenix reincarnates once in a hundred years. After burning until nothing is left within the True Fire of Samadhi, a new chick will be born amidst the ashes. During the fire bath rebirth, if one were to properly use the powerful energy released then, it could rebuild a human body and even possibly resurrect the dead.

Now, only a small cupful of ash was left of the phoenix. It probably couldn’t be reborn after it was burnt.

“That day will come.” Chen Xing simply covered Lu Ying’s rotten half with his clothes. After pondering for a long time, he glanced at Xiang Shu.

“I know a day like that will come, “ Lu Ying smiled slightly and said, “But I can’t wait until then. Fortunately, you and the Protector Martial God still came, letting me wait for this last moment with dignity.”

Xiang Shu asked, “What on earth happened?”

Lu Ying beckoned to Xiao Shan, so Xiao Shan went over and lay comfortably in Lu Ying’s embrace.

“It’s a very long story.” Lu Ying answered in a daze, “Please, take a seat. I’m guessing that after coming from thousands of miles away, both of you

must already know quite a bit. Hopefully, after listening to my account, it’ll help the two of you find your answers.”

Chen Xing said, “Silence of All Magic.” Xiang Shu said, “Kjera.”

Both of them sat in front of Lu Ying. Xiao Shan couldn’t understand their conversation. As he lay in Lu Ying’s arms, he started yawning.

Chen Xing decisively cut straight to the point and said, “What’s so special about this mountain? Why does everything start from here?”

“It starts from Carosha,” Lu Ying answered, “That’s the clue you guys found?”

Chen Xing unfolded a map and showed it to Lu Ying. After yawning, Xiao Shan slightly roused and took it over. He looked at it front and back, from the left and from the right, and even turned it upside down.

“Just as I had mentioned, this is the place where the Dragon God, Zhuyin, descended.” Lu Ying pondered for a bit before saying, “Let’s start from Zhuyin ba, according to ancient records...”

“Day, with open eyes; night, with closed eyes,” Chen Xing said, “It is the beginning of all dragons, the first dragon in this world.”

“That’s right.” Lu Ying nodded politely, then continued, “Lord Zhuyin made time move, nudging the heaven and earth veins, forming the wheel of time. Just as how the great God Pangu held the sky up with his feet on the ground for 18,000 years, Zhuyin used its sacred power to move time, rotating the chakra of heaven and earth endlessly. After many years passed, it finally fell here and turned into the peaks of Carosha before you now.”

“The wolf god and I are the tomb keepers after it descended. After obtaining Lord Zhuyin’s dragon powers, we turned into yaos. The wolf god is responsible for Day, while I’m responsible for the dreams of the long, dark nights. Additionally, Lord Zhuyin has a dragon son named “Yeming”, but no one knows where he is now.”

“How long have you lived for?” Xiang Shu asked doubtfully.

“About four hundred or so years,” Lu Ying answered, “The wolf god and I aren’t like the Phoenix. Our souls aren’t reborn in samsara, but rather, our yao powers are passed down from generation to generation. Twelve years ago, the wolf god sensed an unusual change in the southeast, so he went forth alone.”

“The southeast is...” Chen Xing frowned. “Karakorum,” Xiang Shu answered.

Lu Ying nodded.

“I still remember, the day twelve years ago was just like the winter night today.” Lu Ying said, “The wolf god brought this child from Karakorum, and he was seriously injured. He passed the last bits of his yao powers to Xiao Shan before passing out. I tried everything I could to get rid of this toxin for the wolf god but accidentally ended up infecting myself with it as well...”

Xiang Shu only wanted to know how involved this rotten youth was with the drought fiends, yet the other party kept beating around the bush without bringing up the main point, so he started feeling a little impatient. His brows were slightly furrowed, but Lu Ying already sensed it and signalled for him to not be so anxious.

“What exactly is this poison?” Chen Xing knew that after the Silence of All Magic, not only exorcists, but even the yaos of the world have lost their power. If spiritual Qi still existed, even if such a strong yao couldn’t get rid of the toxin, he could at least rely on his regenerative powers to continue struggling at death’s door for awhile.

“Devil God blood,” Lu Ying said, “That’s the reason why mortals transform into ‘drought fiends’ after they die. It comes from an ancient, powerful yao that’s even older than the records of human history.”

Chen Xing, “...”

Everyone below the tree remained silent for a moment. Xiao Shan had already fallen asleep peacefully in Lu Ying’s embrace.

“Who is it?” Chen Xing said, “I remember that there is only one being who is called ‘Devil God’ in historical records.”

“That’s the one,” Lu Ying answered, “You guessed right.”

Chiyou fought the Yellow Emperor in Banquan, who was then defeated. The Yellow Emperor, Xuanyuan, divided Chiyou’s corpse: his head, limbs, torso, and heart were buried in seven places within the Divine Land.

“The blood left behind by the Devil God,” Lu Ying continued, “Can awaken the dead, convening them to fight for it. That is the reason behind the appearance of drought fiends.”

Chen Xing suddenly remembered! That is to say, what Kjera got Xiang Shu’s father Shulü Wen to drink back then was a medicine mixed with the blood of the Devil God!

Xiang Shu said in a low voice, “Kjera is his incarnation?”

Chen Xing immediately retorted, “Impossible! if Chiyou had successfully obtained a human form, the Divine Land would not be like what it is now.”

Speaking of that, Chen Xing unexpectedly felt a bit of fear. Before this, he had come up with many hypotheses regarding the “drought fiends”, but all of his speculations were based on the “yao” species. It could have been caused by evil arts, or a change triggered by some sort of yao, but he never expected that the true enemy he was facing would actually be Chiyou!

What position did Chiyou hold? He’s the ancient God of Weapons! The God of all wars in the world! Even Xuanyuan had to rely on the power of the heavenly emperor, Xuannu, Rain Master Fengbo, and the sacred dragon to finally defeat him after years of warfare. Even then, they couldn’t completely eradicate Chiyou and could only dismember his corpse and seal it in seven different places within the Divine Land.

After the passing of thousands of years, this disparity in strength was truly too great! If Chiyou revived, this was a god-level devil; it was impossible

for there to be anyone in the world who can be its opponent. Just meeting him face-to-face would turn anyone into ashes!

But Xiang Shu didn’t know about the Han legends and only said while frowning, “Then who’s Kjera?”

“Kjera?” Lu Ying thought about it, then said, “Although I don’t know who you’re talking about, but I’m guessing that it should be Shi Hai.”

Xiang Shu was going to continue describing, but Chen Xing stopped him with his gaze. He could clearly sense that Lu Ying’s life was being drained away slowly, and he didn’t have much time left -- only the last vestiges of the sunlight could be seen now.

“Shi Hai is the Devil God’s subordinate,” Lu Ying closed his eyes and said slowly, “I don’t even remember when he appeared in this world. The only point I can confirm is that he has lived for far longer than I and the wolf god, and he could perhaps be one of the people left behind from the ancient world. According to the wolf god’s last words, Shi Hai may have broken free from the tomb many years ago. After all, throughout the Divine Land, the Xiongnus and the Hans in the South have fought for many years and caused too many changes. The reasons for all this are beyond examination.”

Chen Xing saw that Lu Ying’s voice was getting softer and said, “You’re very tired, Lu Ying, I think you need to rest for a bit.”

“It’s okay.” Lu Ying opened his eyes and forced out a smile. “Twelve years ago, Shi Hai returned to the North for the first time and made me seriously ill. As the corrosion exacerbated with each passing day, my remaining yao powers were also affected by resentment. All of the graveyards you saw on the way here are the places where the Xiongnus buried their bones.”

Chen Xing recalled how Lu Ying had mentioned that he was “responsible for dreams in the long, dark nights”. After he was infected, the dreams must have turned into nightmares as well, just like how Xiang Shu recalled his past in the fog. So he asked, “So, these living corpses had undergone unusual changes?”

Lu Ying shook his head. “Several years later, just when I was using all my strength to resist the corrosion, Shi Hai came to the North for the second time. He was very patient. He waited until I had been corroded by the Devil God blood for a very long time before coming forth to find me. He also brought a mortal’s corpse along with him. This mortal was called “Sima Yue” when he was alive, and he once had an absolutely irreconcilable feud with the Xiongnus.”

Chen Xing, “Sima Yue, Great Jin’s Prince of the East Sea!”

Lu Ying nodded. “I have been living in seclusion in the mountains for a long time and knew nothing about the feuds of the humans. Shi Hai persuaded me to surrender and pledge allegiance to the Lord Devil God, to build a human world without death...”

Chen Xing couldn’t believe his ears. He paced back and forth on the withered islet, saying, “Insane, it’s absolutely insane!”

Lu Ying gasped for a moment before replying, “Birth, old age, illness, and death are all part of samsara. If there��s no death, how could there be life? If there’s no pain, how could there be joy? Time is like an inn, and I’m the traveler. Without farewells and departures, how could the world flourish and propagate endlessly? Naturally, I rejected Shi Hai’s suggestion.”

After that, Sima Yue fought me and broke off my horns that I could use to command beasts.” Lu Ying said, “Now, I can only stay in Mount Carosha to struggle at death’s door.”

Xiao Shan woke up at this moment. Seeing Lu Ying start to cough, he reached out and patted his chest. Lu Ying rubbed Xiao Shan’s head and continued, “Another year later, when Xiao Shan was nine, someone came from the South. He was the crown price of the Akeles tribe, who was called “Youduo” when he was alive.”