#how many of you were expecting the typical i will eat response

[trivia-yandere]

dilemma 2

"car sex looks so much easier in the movies." part one @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63 @investedreader @

warning: semi-public sex, car sex, dirty talk, drugdealer yoongi yas, smoking/"drug" use, mentions of drugs, guns, sexual enhancement pill, kissing, oral sex (f/m), fingering, nipple sucking, riding, creampie, unprotected sex, ass-slapping,

word count: 7.139

kinktober masterlist

“Each time I see you, you get something more bold.” the nail tech speaks as she carefully adds the clear coat onto your nails. “You always keep me on my toes. I never know what to expect.”

You giggle a bit with a curt nod to your head. “Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t me choosing these designs?”

Yoongi had been the one to tell you all he wished for you to get - and you never went against it. He was the one paying for it. You recall one of the many times you and he were hanging out. He would always insist that you didn’t have to buy whenever you wanted weed, a perk that you didn’t wish to take advantage of. 

Yoongi understood that you were stubborn at times and instead decided that you two can smoke together and it wouldn’t be considered “free” if he was smoking it with you - as if you didn’t know he “accidently” left some behind for you whenever he left.

That, and it always ended with you and Yoongi fucking. You blamed it on you being high but you and him both understood that even sober would you be willing to fuck him. 

After a smoke session that soon lead to a fuck session, Yoongi had mentioned how your nails would look nice a light blue color and had offered to pay for it, no matter the cost. Him handing you $200 wasn’t what you expected - his excuse was he didn’t know how much nails cost.

Typical Yoongi response.

“Boyfriend?” she asks, eyes glancing up at you. “You always get designs and add bling.”

You lick your lip, unsure of how to respond.

Yoongi wasn’t your boyfriend - he never asked you. 

Sure you and he would often spend time together when you weren’t working and he wasn’t…doing whatever it was that he did. He never truly did tell you what he sells besides weed, but did you truly wish to know? Just like he said before - ignorance is bliss.

Yoongi and you would go places that could be considered dates - says your friends - and apparently acted like a couple. He would buy you things randomly, items he thought you’d enjoy and of course he does pay for your nails simply because he likes the way they look on you.

“Something like that.” was your response, unsure of what you were truly expected to respond with. 

There’s a ringing noise indicating that there’s a door opening. You raise your brow in confusion as it was already dark outside and the salon is closed and has been for over an hour now. You typically choose the later appointments at times and Yoongi would pick you up.  

“Ah, is this the boyfriend?”

Your head whips around to see Yoongi in the flesh. He steps closer, sauntering towards you with such a cool and nonchalant swag about him. Your heart jolts at just the sight of him, dressed casually; dark grassy colored shirt with light-washed gray jeans and his infamous Nikes that he wore that he had in nearly every color. 

Yoongi always wore jewelry, his wrist holding expensive gold bracelets and watches. His ears typically held little silver or gold hoops or the occasional diamond earrings. Witnessing him wearing a diamond studded chain around his neck, matched with another looser one that slightly sways as he walks. 

“Yoongi.” you say as he reaches you, your body warms at his sudden appearance. “I…I should be done soon. Were you waiting long?”

“Just stopping by. Have to make a quick stop before we go out to eat.” Yoongi shakes his head, dark eyes glancing down to your nails. “I like your nails. They’re nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile, looking at your nails with the design Yoongi picked out - full of different shining gems that he insisted you get, again, no matter the cost.

Yoongi goes through his pocket and grabs his wallet. He turns his eye to the nail tech who’s already watching in curiosity. Sometimes, not all, does Yoongi wear rings. They could be subtle, simple silver rings. Today, however, was not a subtle day. His index, middle, ring and pink display diamond-studded rings that say “SUGA”, and all you can do was snicker.

“Hopefully this is enough.” Yoongi says, handing her a wad of cash. You want to scoff at the insane amount of money he was handing her. “This is too much-” the nail tech widens her eyes a bit, looking between you and Yoongi. “It’s-”

“Fine.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. “It’s fine. You can pocket the rest.” he assures, turning feline-like eyes to you. “You always do an amazing job.”

You have the urge to roll your eyes at him, but you cannot contain the soft smile that creeps onto your lips.

“You always show off like this?” the nail tech asks, placing your hand beneath the uv light. She wasn’t going to complain as you became her top client - always returning biweekly for a new set and leaving a hefty tip. Now she understands why - the man with diamond, sparkling jewelry.

“It’s pocket change..” Yoongi snorted. His hands, calloused and warm, grabs your dried ones and he leans down a bit to press a kiss onto your hand. He winks, the flirtatious Yoongi returning for just a moment before he nods his head at you. “I’ll pick you up no later than an hour.”

Yoongi’s car is parked directly in front of the salon, you and the nail tech watching as he gets into it and speeds off down the road. You haven’t realized you were holding your breath until you let it out.

“That’s…him.” you murmur, shaking your head. 

“That’s your man.” The tech nods her head in confirmation. “No doubt about it. You need to fuck him tonight.”

Your body heats up at her words and you begin to laugh nervously. Your nails are done now and you sit as she begins to clean her station, along with speaking with you.

“How long have you and him been together?”

“Not long…” you respond. “...I’ve known him forever. He would always sell me weed in college and I just never stopped going to him.”

“I knew it.” the tech gasps, her eyes widening as if you’ve told her the juiciest gossip ever. “At first, I was thinking… scammer! With all those rings on his hands and jewelry. Overall swag.” She stands up. “But a dealer sounds more accurate.”

You stand along with her. You were her last client of the day and she was preparing to close for the night. The evening sky displays such rich colors of purple, orange and pink all blending together perfectly. 

“Ugh, the sex has to be good.” she says with a shake of her head. “I have something that could make the experience better.”

You follow behind her as she grasps her purse and begins to stroll towards the salon doors. She turns off the lights behind you and begins to lock the doors.

“Better?” you furrow your brows. Sex with Yoongi was already amazing - he was the perfect type of pleaser that loved having his head between your legs.

However, you were curious about what she was trying to sell you.

“Girl,” she turns to you with a wicked smirk on her lips. The way she speaks to you is comfortable; like two close friends. “I have these pills. A little…enhancement. Not saying you need it. The way he looks at you…” she whistles, as if knowing that Yoongi can have you wet in seconds. “But…he’s a dealer, right? Meaning you and he always get high together?”

You nod your head hesitantly. 

“It'll be amazing. Trust me.” she proceeds to go through her purse and take out a small, square package. “Two of these and you’ll be ready for him in no time.”

She doesn’t even allow you much time to react before she’s shoving them in your hands. “In two weeks when I see you…tell me all about it.”

You aren’t sure what you expect to happen with the tiny, pink pills you took. It takes you a few minutes to walk down the street to the pharmacy to pick up your prescription and wait for another few minutes for them to be done with it. You decided that - why not. You decided to take it while you wait, chugging down a cup of water from the fountain.

You sit in the waiting area. It’s quiet, no one around in the pharmacy besides you and the pharmacist who appears to be taking his time filing your order; but you weren’t in much of a rush.

Your mind wanders to the pill and if it would truly work like she said it would, and if it did how would you react? It couldn’t be anything too strong that would have you wanting to tear Yoongi’s clothes off surely.

The door rings and you’re too occupied with your thoughts to care about who’s entering or the amount of footsteps. Of course, not until you hear a loud bang in the air, followed by several glass breaking. Your body instantly flinches, your heart pounding erratically. Your eyes are wide as you witness several men, all dressed in black clothing and masks covering their faces, point their guns right at the Pharmacist. The poor old man appears just as you knew you did - a deer caught in headlights and scared shitless.

“Stay there.” one man says to the Pharmacist, gun pointed right at him. “You don’t get paid enough to give a fuck about what we steal.”

There’s a total of five of them that you can see, three going behind the counter to shove different amounts of product in their bags while up front, there’s 1 guarding the door. You swallow thickly, your heart pounding outside your chest, your body trembling even more as the guy's head slowly turns towards you.

“Why are you here?”

As if on queue, several heads turn towards you as if just now realizing you were there. 

“I…I…”

“She wasn’t supposed to be here.” says one man behind the counter.

“I needed birth control.” you responded meekly, feeling your eyes begin to grow glossy.

“Don’t cry.” the man lowers his gun - that was aimed at the pharmacist - and shakes his head. “You can still get your birth control. Hand the girl her birth control.” he then raises it again, waving it towards the Pharmacist. “You weren’t supposed to see this…”

You’re unsure how to respond and decided that it was best not to. Your body is feeling different and your mind swears it’s playing tricks on you.

The door sounds once more and more footsteps make their way closer to you. You take a deep breath, eyes glancing at the men still shoving product into bags while the Pharmacist struggles to package your birth control.

“Y/N…”

That voice. 

Your head snaps towards Yoongi, whose eyes are watching you closely.

“I thought you were going home.” Yoongi murmurs, coming even closer to you. He doesn’t  acknowledge any of the men as he stands directly in front of you. 

“Y-Yoongi…?”

Your eyes blink several times, eyebrows knitting. 

“You weren’t supposed to be here…” Yoongi murmurs. “...when this happened.”

You’re silent for a moment to allow yourself to process his words. 

You glance around to the men who don’t appear to be bothered by you  -  a potential witness. You then turn your attention back to Yoongi.

“This is what you do?” you whisper, voice low and calm.

Yoongi inhales, his dark hues watching you closely. He’s not positive how you’re reacting to this. It’s as if your reaction changed from frightened to relaxed. 

“I’m not saying I do this.” Yoongi shrugs. “I am saying you weren’t supposed to be here. I’m sorry if you’re scared.” he’s truthful, you note, as this could be scary for anyone. “And I understand if this is the last time you want to see me.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, hyung.”

Yoongi closes his eyes a bit before turning to the man. He has a bag in his hands and he offers it to you. 

You look between the two before grasping it hesitantly. “Thank you.” you say, voice low and mind still attempting to process it all.

Yoongi knew these men, that was obvious. He wouldn’t be here without a mask if he hadn’t - nor would they all be so calm around him. Him being called hyung was just another confirmation. 

You sniffle a bit, the bag crinkling in your hands as you begin to stand. Yoongi is silent as he awaits your reaction - for you to run out of here and not look back. For you to demand him to leave you alone and never speak with you again. 

“Can you take me home?”

Yoongi feels his heart jolt a moment - there’s hope, isn't it? You felt comfortable enough to allow him to take you home. 

“Yes, baby.” Yoongi nods his head, murmuring his words so low. His voice is raspy and deep and his eyes are as dark as they always are and..

And you feel a thump between your legs, like a heartbeat.

You gulp.

The pill was working. In such a terrible time.

Slowly, you begin to stand, glancing away at the masked men for a moment.

“I’ll walk us out.” Yoongi offers, placing a hand around your waist and pulling you closer to him. You can smell his cologne - a mixture of citrus, wood and wood. It’s purely Yoongi and, once more, causes you to feel that familiar heartbeat between your legs.

“You were supposed to check to make sure no one was here.” you hear Yoongi’s voice behind you as you walk. His soft tone with you changes completely when he speaks to the men. 

“How are we supposed to know your girl would be here?” another voice sounds, just as annoyed as Yoongi was. “You said you’ll be out with her the whole night.”

Your body is heated at those words - Yoongi talks about you to his…friends? Associates? Fellow criminal dealers?

“Next time fucking check then!” Yoongi snaps, his hand on your waist as you walk past another mask man who opens the door for you.

The air is cool outside and it hits your warm body tenderly. You moan low at how good it feels, yet and still the thumping between your legs remains. 

Yoongi’s car is parked in an alley a few blocks away. It’s dark and the car is running. He presses a button on his car door and pulls it open. “Get in.” he mumbles, lightly patting your lower back. 

You proceed to do that and once inside, Yoongi closes the door. The rap music is low in his speakers and in a few moments he rounds the car entirely and gets inside the driver.

“Y/N,” Yoongi begins, releasing a sigh. “I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

You gently drop the paper bag onto the ground between your feet. You take a deep breath. “I’m not scared.” you respond.

Yoongi scoffs. You didn’t see the look on your face when he arrived. It infuriated him to see the glossy look in your eyes and if he could strangle each of them he would; Jungkook especially for attempting to reason with you with a gun in his hand and a mask covering his head. 

“I…” Yoongi places his hand onto your cheek. It causes you to hitch your breath. “...sell more than weed. You know that.” he murmurs, that voice again causes your body to react sinfully in a moment that you shouldn’t be. 

“I know.” you nod your head, gently leaning into Yoongi’s hand.

“Do you?” 

Yoongi’s thumb traces the outline of your lips.

“I would never hurt you.” Yoongi continues. “Do you know that? I’ll never put you in harm's way.”

You meet Yoongi’s eyes as they stare right through you. The car is dark and only a single street light in the alley illuminates slightly in the car. His chains sparkle on her neck along with the rings on his hands. 

“I can take you home, baby.” Yoongi hums, tilting his head a bit. He had to know the way you were looking at him right now. There wasn’t a way he thought that you just wanted to go home without you. “And if you don’t want to see me anymore…”

Yoongi doesn’t finish his sentence and instead awaits your response. 

“Who are they?”

Yoongi furrows one brow. “...My brothers.” he answers truthfully. “They can…be a bit dumb at times.”

“They know me.” you state, it wasn’t a question. 

Yoongi nods as his lips twitch upwards. “They know you.” he confirms. 

“I’m your girl?”

Your tone is teasing and there's a twinkle in your eyes; especially when your tongue pokes out to swipe at his thumb. 

“You are my girl.” Yoongi rasps, inhaling. “You know that.”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

You wrap his thumb in your tongue, your eyes never moving from his; unblinking. You suck gently on it, wishing it was something else entirely.

“My girl…” Yoongi hisses. “I like your nails.”

Giggling, you release his thumb and shake your head. You reach your hand out and place it onto his thigh and dangerously close to his groin. You ponder if it was some type of kink Yoongi has

“Yeah?” you hum, nails tapping against him. “How much do you like it?”

Yoongi’s eyes lowers dangerously slow to your hand teasingly tapping the bulge in his jeans. Maybe it was a kink he had - he loved the way your nails appeared against him; when you’d wrap them around his cock. When you’d hold his face between your hands or rub it along his chest as the two of you would cuddle together. He enjoyed when you’d run your hands through his hair at times, though he had to pretend he didn’t because he, after all, was a man and not a soft one like you claimed once.

“So much…” Yoongi murmurs, tongue coating his lips. “...do you want to smoke?”

You tilt your head a bit, glancing up at Yoongi. It’s obvious you wanted to do something more than just smoke, but you decided to nod your head instead. Your mind wanders back to what your nail tech said, pondering if this pill mixed with a high would be any different.

You nod your head. 

In a way, this was a way for Yoongi to prepare himself to be able to deal with you and calm his own nerves. No one wasn’t expecting for you to be at the Pharmacy and eventually, he would explain what more he did outside of dealing weed. He didn’t want to literally show you and he still finds it surreal you’re handling it this smooth.

As always, Yoongi has everything pre-rolled for the two of you. He leans his seat back a bit and goes through his pockets for a lighter. He lights the joint before passing it to you.

“Do you do…this often?” you ask before placing it between your lips and taking a pull.

“I usually don't.” Yoongi shakes his head. “They do. I sell it.”

Smoke releases from your lips, your eyes zoning out for a moment to process his words. You supposed it made sense that Yoongi sold other stuff - and you’re sure this is still the tip of the iceberg. The fancy cars, expensive clothes and jewelry mixed with the amount of money he always gave you.

“We typically try to steer away from armed robbery but,” Yoongi shrugs. “business must go on, baby. We only steal from corporations, not small businesses.”

You take another pull and roll your eyes before passing it to Yoongi. “How “people over profit” you are.” you tease.   

Long fingers grasp the joint from you. Yoongi smoking has always looked hot to you and even now it just intensifies; maybe the pill was just having you crave Yoongi more. 

“Some people need medication for a cheaper price, others need it for other uses. I only supply them.” Yoongi releases the smoke from his nose, tilting his head as his eyes connect with yours. “Ya’ sure you okay?”

“I am.” you nod, offering a short smile.

“You look…” Yoongi can’t put his hands on it. High, sure, but you couldn’t be that high. You didn’t appear frightened anymore. Yet, that look in your eyes wasn't fear. “...hmm.”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

You squeeze your legs a bit tighter as your eyes blink at Yoongi, never leaving his gaze. It clicks in his mind right then and there. You were horny - more than he’s ever seen before. The constant squeezing of your thighs, the slightly flushed look on your skin. 

“You want me to fuck you so bad.” Yoongi scoffs, a smirk forming onto his lips. 

You swallow, yet another jolt between your legs signaling that you indeed did want Yoongi to do just that. Your mouth begins to salivate at just the thought of having him deep in you, fucking you in such a disrespectful way that it’s nearly demeaning.

You let out a soft breath. 

“I do.” you admit, not wishing to hide it anymore. There was never any judgment with Yoongi and you find that you could always be truthful and open with him. He was a tease at times, but you never took it bad. “I took this pill.”

“Pill?” Yoongi raises a brow, taking another hit of the joint before passing it back to you. “What type of pill?”

You do the same as Yoongi, closing your eyes for a bit as the smoke hits your lungs. “Sexual enhancement, I suppose.” you shrug your shoulders. “Nail tech gave it to me. Told me to try it.”

Yoongi is intrigued now. Maybe this was what is causing your eyes to give him such longing, seductive stares. 

Yoongi licks his lips. “Hm.” he blinks. “How do you feel?”

You take a long hit of the blunt, your eyes staring right at him for a second too long, showing him just how you feel without truly saying another. 

“I want to suck your dick.” you say, releasing the smoke from your lips, hitting Yoongi directly in the face. “Now.”

Yoongi is nothing but a man. Of course he got hard by that - especially with how demanding you were. He wasn’t a highly dominant person and didn’t mind whenever you wanted to take control; same as of right now.

The blunt, now too small for your nails to grasp, is discarded and quickly, you push yourself towards Yoongi. Your lips connect with his hastily, hands going to touch the bulge in his jeans, gripping and rubbing it.

Yoongi swallows back his moans as he kisses your back, your tongue dancing with his own. Your hand manages to get inside his jeans and grasp his length tightly in your palm, causing Yoongi to gasp.

“That pill must be really fucking you up.” Yoongi grunts when you release his lips, saliva snapping the connection as you do. He offers you assistance in lowering his jeans so his cock can spring free.

“It is.” you say, your eyes not leaving his as you open your mouth and allow a trail of saliva to fall out slowly and onto the tip of his cock.

Yoongi groans, his eyes darkening at how slutty you looked. 

You lower yourself to wrap the tip in your tongue, allowing it to swirl. Your eyes close and instinctively, your back arches. You never enjoyed doing this before Yoongi, as you found that  no man was truly worth sticking their cock in your mouth. However, Yoongi was different and you acknowledge that. You enjoyed sucking his cock and hearing the sweet moans and words of encouragement. 

“Ah, shit.” Yoongi slams his head against the seat.  His eyes begin to flutter, finding it extremely difficult to leave his eyes open.

Yoongi’s cock is warm in your mouth, radiating the same heat as your tongue does. His tip hits the back of your throat almost playfully.

Yoongi tries his hardest to compose himself, but he cannot. Especially not when it comes to you. There’s only so much of his moans he can keep to himself before he releases them pathetically. One large hand places itself on top of your head while his pale cheeks flushes a dusty pink. Your hand tightens around the shaft of his cock so you could focus solely (for now) on sucking on the tip.

“You always look so beautiful.”

Yoongi’s eyes lazily flutter back open to watch the way you suckle onto his cock with such need. His hand slightly grips your hair, unable to take his low eyes away from the obscene sight of you. 

Your tongue runs past Yoongi’s slit, turning your head a bit just to look up at him. Dark, cloudy eyes meet his and he shivers visibly. The salty pre-cum hits your tongue and you giggle softly at the taste of it - but how couldn’t he? Everything about you was perfect to him - even outside of sex. 

You wanted Yoongi just as much as he wanted you. You wanted to see him crumble and shiver in your embrace. Yoongi was the type of man that gave you everything and didn’t expect anything in return - you wanted this moment to be about him; for however long he’d last.

You take Yoongi further into your mouth, opening wide and willingly. Your tongue lays flat as you bob your head up and down rapidly.

Yoongi, on the other hand, groans, his eyes rolling. His thighs shake just as the sound of your suckling groans louder. Car sex wasn’t usually his forte as it was a small space for two people - but he does find that it’s convenient. That and you were determined to not wait any longer than you needed to.

Your mouth is good for Yoongi. So warm and wet, pleasuring him greatly with qualified skills that he doesn’t realize himself that he’s thrusting into your mouth until he hears you groan on top of him. There’s saliva pooling out from the corner of your mouth and dripping down your chin. 

“That pill must be kicking your ass.” Yoongi grunts, roughly removing your lips from his wet cock. It springs out of your lips with a ‘pop’ and slaps you directly between your eyes, an act you weren’t bothered by in the slightest. “You want to do this now?” 

Yoongi licks his lips just as you nod your head erratically, an eager look in your eyes. He releases a short chuckle. “If that’s what you want…get in the back.” he nods his head to the empty back seat before fixing himself. His eyes survey his surroundings, the alley way as dark and quiet as it always was. His brothers had to be done by now.

Just as you scurry to the backseat, Yoongi opens the driver door to go back there as well. The car remains on, headlights off to not gain any unwanted attention. He sits in the back and locks the door before turning to you. 

“Car sex looks so much easier in the movies.” Yoongi murmurs, but he’s fond of this memory he would share with you. You and he would look back to how terrified (and horny) you were on this very day. “Take your clothes off.”

Your body flushes at the change in Yoongi’s voice, but your pussy continues to throb. You do as you’re told, kicking off your leggings and throwing your panties along with this. Yoongi continues to watch as each second passes and your naked flesh makes its appearance.

“Come.” Yoongi murmurs, reaching out for you. He clasps your chin to press a gentle kiss onto your wet lips, an act he always did. You always adored the contrast that was Min Yoongi, such a gentle man that could fuck you so disrespectfully if he wanted to. “Now lay back.”

Yoongi doesn’t wait for you to get situated before he’s already parting your legs.  After doing this with him many times, you cannot bring yourself to be embarrassed; especially not now. 

“You’re so wet.” Yoongi murmurs to himself, his eyes zoning between your legs as his mouth begins to salivate. 

Yoongi lowers himself, both hands digging into your thighs to keep them apart. He presses a simple kiss against your clit that causes your back to arch at how sensitive you truly were.

“S-Shit…!”

Yoongi wasn’t one to waste time. His tongue lays flat against your clit, his head bobbing back and forth in rhythm. There’s only a short tune of music in the background that completely dies down with the sound of your high-pitched moans. 

Yoongi loves being between your legs - it didn’t matter if it was his cock or his face. Your thighs are warm as they cage his head between them and he finds that he genuinely enjoys eating you out. Most men didn’t understand the act as much as he did. The sweet sounds of your moans are fixed with little words of encouragement. The way you’d squirm and beg for him to slow down - and he never did. It all drove him insane and wanting to give you more.

Yoongi’s eyes stare upwards at you. Your hands squeeze your breast while your eyes are snapped shut. You don’t hold in your moans; he doesn’t want you to. 

Yoongi’s tongue is always rough against your sensitive clit. It’s as though he’s forcing you to cum all over him, determined to taste your arousal that he causes. Maybe it’s an ego boost as a man to be able to cause a woman to cum so harshly. So much so that he doesn’t come up for air and continues to suckle on your swollen clit until you’re nearly begging for him to slow down.

It doesn’t help that Yoongi was an attractive man between your legs who enjoys watching you crumble for him. You learned the first few times to keep your eyes off of Yoongi while he was doing this for once you made eye contact, it was a wrap. He wouldn't break it, all the while his tongue would be buried deep between your legs.

“-fuck…”

Your thighs are quivering as Yoongi lifts himself from between your legs just as your high was about to come crashing over you. 

Of course, Yoongi wasn’t done with you. Your hole is clenching and unclenching with each passing second and Yoongi couldn’t help but want to bury his fingers deep inside of you.

Yoongi’s rings are cold as he inches his fingers inside of you. Again, your back arches once your walls feel his fingers inside of you.

“Let’s see how hard you can squirt in under three minutes.” 

Such mischief in his dark eyes, a smirk forming on his lips. He licks them, savoring the taste of your sweet arousal that’s now coating his long fingers. He releases a short sigh - how perfect you truly were for him. 

“Yoongi…” you squeal, warmth shooting throughout your entire body. His fingers are deep inside of you, wiggling teasingly as its own is determined to play with you.

“Yes, baby?” 

Yoongi knows what his voice does to you - he has to. It can be normal when you and he spoke, and like a flick of a switch, it’s deep. Husky and full of lust - much like now. 

You take a deep breath just as Yoongi takes his fingers out just to shove them back in  - you contemplate that it’s at least three of them inside of you, just enough to drive you crazier. His fingers scrape the inside of your clamping walls feverishly, your squelching pussy growing louder than your moans.

Your thighs tremble with the impact, having the need to shut because it was all too much and you’re beginning to blame the pill for just how aroused you were. It felt as if your body was a furnace with how hot you felt. Goosebumps clutter your skin entirely and just by the soppy sounds coming from between your legs, you’re positive that you’re soaked.

Yoongi, however, doesn’t mind how wet you are - or the fact that it’s smudging all over his seats entirely. His fingers continue to thrusting inside of you, pace never faltering. Your arousal paints his hand and wrist entirely. The man is astonished by just how more and more arousal continues to pool out of you.

“S-Stop…” you manage to grunt, your eyelids closing rather tightly. A weak hand goes to wrap around Yoongi’s wrist, but that doesn’t cause him to do as you tell him to.

“No.” was Yoongi’s response, hovering directly above you now, his face a few inches from yours. You looked completely out of it and he wasn’t making it any easier. “Squeezing around my fingers so tightly, baby, it’s okay. Just let go…”

Yoongi’s breath is warm against your cheek and his own warmth scatters right onto you. His cologne is even more present with how close he was; woody and musky and the familiarity of it all causes you to cry out - also because of how well he’s hitting a certain spot with such ease.

How you managed to lift your arm to wrap around Yoongi’s neck, you’re unsure. You felt rather weak beneath him, but you did so. Your lips find his instinct and you press a firm kiss against it just as you felt your high come before you.

Yoongi groans into the kiss as your thighs tremble as you were coming and just on time does he remove his fingers from your wet core to allow your arousal to fall freely, splashing against your seats on his car and coating your thighs.

Yoongi releases your lips to allow you to breathe. You gasp out, your hand holding onto Yoongi closely as you attempt to gather yourself pathetically. Your head is swirling, your mind flashing with different scenes and never truly focusing on one - was this the weed or the pill? You aren’t sure.

“You’re just so fucked out. It’s cute.” Yoongi chuckles with a shake of his head. He ponders on the pill you were given that could have you like this.

“Shut up.” you sigh, swallowing. Your throat is dry and you’re unsure the reason why. “I want you to cum in me.”

Yoongi snickers as he leans away from you to look at you just as you open your eyes. 

“You can’t possibly have the energy for that right now?” Yoongi teases, but his eyes are watching you closely, as if questioning if you truly did or not. 

“Take your dick out.” you say cooly, pushing yourself from your laying posting to now seat against his backseats.

Yoongi doesn’t fight with you and instead does as you tell him to. His jeans are pushed down to his knees and before he could react, you swing yourself on top of him.

You weren’t going to allow the cramped space to stop you from your goal. You’re determined to feel him fully, planting both feet on either side of it before positioning yourself directly above his cock. 

Yoongi lets out a short breath when you center his cock at your hole, his hands instantly meeting your hips. He then swallows as you begin to enter his cock inside of you.

So wet.

So warm.

So tight.

Yoongi squeezes your hips with shaky fingers when he feels like you sit directly on top of him. He shakes his head gently, his own thighs beginning to shake. 

“You looked just as fucked out.” you tease, licking your lips. You had no time to tease him, however, and instantly begin to lift your hips and crash it back down against him.

Your hands place themselves onto his shoulders as you begin to ride him, snapping your hips in rhythm. The care begins to shake slightly and anyone that may walk past would obviously know that a couple were fucking in here.

It doesn’t stop either of you, of course. 

Manicured nails dig into Yoongi’s shirt and you push your head back. His cock is deep inside of you, crashing against your sweet spot with each buckle of your hips. Your breast pounces directly into his face, so much so that he finds that he enjoys this position the most.

“You’re insatiable.” Yoongi groans, large hands sliding up to grip your breast into them. He open his mouth to send a kitten-like lick on both nipples, his tongue twirling around the hardened bud. 

You continue to bounce on Yoongi, using his cock to fuck yourself as you desire. Your stamina was running out - as you rarely rode him, only when he asked. However, the feeling of his cock deep inside of you causes you to ignore your shaking thighs and continue on.

Yoongi on the other hand is astonished by how long you’ve managed to do this, but he wasn’t complaining. You’re riding his cock as if it belongs to you; like a sex toy you put back inside the drawer when you’re done with. His hands are squeezing your body entirely, your walls clasping around his cock to milk him of everything he has.

“Slow,” Yoongi stops you mid thrust, panting. Both hands place themselves onto your ass as he halts you. “down.” he murmurs, pressing his forehead against your chest. 

Yoongi grunts when he feels you clench around him, his head lifting to look you in your eyes. You’re tired, he notes, but still so full of lust that you’re not going to stop until you’re satisfied. 

“‘wanna feel you cum in me.” you breath, grinding against his cock.

“Yeah?” 

Yoongi begins to thrust, taking control from you. He could never truly deny you what you wanted - even if it was going to kill him (metaphorically). Large hands squeeze your ass as he begins to thrust while keeping you in place. He pounds deep inside of you, tip of his cock reaching just where he needs to be to have you moaning loudly.

The car is humid now and the both of you are sweating. Wet skin slapping mixed with grunts and moans echoes throughout the car. It’s foggy and only partly due to your earlier activities.

“So beautiful for me.” Yoongi growls, tearing his eyes away from your pussy - that’s gripping him tightly and leaves a milky ring around his cock - to your fucked out face. “All for me, right?”

“All f-for you.” you say in agreement, hands squeezing his poor shirt that you’re sure it wouldn’t fit correctly anymore. “You always fuck me so good.”

Yoongi snickers . “You always take me so good.” he responds, right hand harshly slapping your ass, an act he knows you love. “Pussy was made for me. I waited too long to have it.” he admits.

You want to ask Yoongi what he means, but you’re unable to form words now that he flips you entirely, your back slapping right back into the (wet) seats. He presses your knees to your shoulders and begins to drill you even deeper and harder.

“Wanted to fuck you ever since I seen you at the bar.” Yoongi continues, eyes bow out as he reminisces about a time in your college days that you possibly forgot. “Wearing that short skirt and the low tight-fitted top…”

Your mind tries to rack back to the time but you’re truly unsure. You and your friends frequented the bar often and you always found Yoongi out and about, as well, as he was a dealer. 

Yoongi grunts, cock pounding deep inside of you that it would be alarming if he didn’t know how you adored being fucked.

“You don’t remember the way you put your hands on my chest? You were so drunk, giggling and calling me cute. I could’ve bent you over and fucked you right in front of everyone and you’d let me.” Yoongi spats, his dirty words only turning you on more.

Yoongi thinks back to those days years ago, how young and naive you were. How lucky you were that he wasn’t one to take advantage like others would’ve in your drunken state. How he began to pin after you silently, unsure how to truly speak to you outside of you contacting him first - either for weed or just to talk while you were drunk.

“I wanted you to fuck me for so long, too ” you can feel your insides squirm as you speak, his cock sloppily thrusting inside of you. You were going to cum so hard now. “Mission accomplished.”

Yoongi snickers and offers a few more sloppy thrusts. You and he could remember the old times and he’d embarrassingly admit more details about his feelings. As of right now, he was determined to cum in you.

Nails digging into your legs as he holds them in place, Yoongi releases deeply inside of you, cum shooting and painting your walls. Your eyes are closed tightly, chest heaving as you feel his warm seed pool in you. 

Yoongi doesn’t move from inside of you until he’s softening. His cum drips out of you when he does and it causes him to snicker.

“I’m so tired.” you murmur, eyes still closed and attempting to catch your breath. “And hungry.”

Lightly tapping your naked thigh, Yoongi speaks. “Side effects, baby. Where do you wanna eat?” You begin to open your eyes, looking towards Yoongi. He’s fixing himself up, pulling up his jeans and tightening his belt.

Yoongi turns his eyes to you and tilts his head. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything years ago?”

Yoongi leans back and shrugs his shoulders. You’re asking questions sooner than he expected. “What the fuck was I suppose to say? I didn’t want to come off as some creep.” he scoffs. “I knew your number, where you lived, where you went to school. I didn’t want to turn you off.”

“You wouldn’t have.” you cross your arms.

“You’re saying that because you find me attractive.” Yoongi waves you off. “If I was hideous you would’ve screamed bloody murder.”

You blink, but then begin to smirk. “True.” you murmur, finally having the strength to pull yourself up. “So…your brothers.” you begin. “They all do the same thing you do?”

“More or less.” answers Yoongi rather vaguely. “I’m sorry again. You weren’t supposed to be caught up in that.”

You blink a few times as Yoongi lifts a hand to touch your cheek. His eyes are sincere as he speaks to you and it causes a jolt in your heart this time .

“It’s cool.” you say, leaning into his hand. “If you were hideous, I would’ve screamed bloody murder.” you joke, causing Yoongi to laugh and you right along with him.

[ainywanie]

૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა OF LOVE AND DREAMS

synopsis: or, in which a stressed out and overwhelmed kenji sato eats takeout with you and slow burn occurs.

requested by; anon / requests are open!

*⁠･⁠゜ﾟ⁠(⁠^⁠O⁠^⁠)⁠↝ read this as well in ao3

Baseball. Fatherhood. Ultraman.

What did those three things have in common? Absolutely none. That was the problem. Neither of those three things had any correlation which made it hell to learn how to split them all evenly. Had Kenji Sato found out earlier that his life would involve tons of juggling things around he would've signed up to be a clown instead of a celebrity.

“There ya go.” Kenji whispers, him in his Ultraman form cradled the adorable Emi who chirped and cried and did everything else but fall asleep in his arms. He's been having a long day and truthfully all he wants is to be less miserable than he was now.

He taps the girl’s back, the small Kaiju looking up at him with — which he swears he can practically see— literal stars in her eyes. “Daddy's here.”

Despite how normally he'd find some sense of contentment and probably even relief or satisfaction from finally soothing Emi from her distress, right now all his mind could try to even focus on was baseball and the fact the KDF were after Emi.

And, for a horrible moment, his heart clenches at the very thought of everything in his life just going away. He's already beating himself up with the recent games, he didn't need anything else adding onto that ever growing giant pile of lists on why Kenji Sato wasn't all that he said to be.

So, here he was, ready to just drown himself (and his sorrows) away with a can of unfortunately healthy coconut water. Couldn't a man drink and get drunk? A nice bottle of alcohol and wine would definitely hit just right for him at this moment.

“God damnit— Mina!” He exclaims, sighing and running his hand through his hair while he examines the drink in his hand, placing it down with a rather miserable expression. ‘This thing’s going to kill me before anything else’ He mutters to himself.

“It is best to incorporate a healthy lifestyle, especially with your many responsibilities lately.” Mina appears with her typical monotone and robotic voice.

“I'm as healthy as you can get.” He argues, walking around the rather huge kitchen he's got. Stardom tends to give out a whole heap of money, and that wasn't anything Kenji could just decline.

Mina stares at him —at least— he's sure if she were a real person with an actual human body she'd probably be staring at him with an unimpressed look. And then his mind flashes to his mother who'd also most likely be doing the same.

“I work out,” Kenji starts, deciding to defend his case. “I wake up early,” He adds, looking around the cupboards and making a mental note to get groceries soon. Soon would be way too far in the future. Soon is barely a day close to tomorrow considering he's already got a lot going on.

“I'm a professional athlete.” Kenji scoffs, leaning against the counter.

“Indeed you are. That is why I contacted—”

Just in time, the front door rings. He doesn't hesitate staring at the robot in disbelief and anger at the sudden visitor. As sudden as the visitor came, Mina promptly went away. “You've gotta be kidding,” He mutters, sighing as his hand rubs his temple while he walks over to the front door to see you at the other side.

His face falls, eyes widening in surprise as he didn't expect this whole thing. “What's up?” He asks, doing a 180 and attempting to be his typical suave self, though, internally he's already hitting himself for being so panicked.

What kind of greeting was ‘what’s up’?

“I bought take out.” You say with a smile, bringing up the paper bag filled with food and drinks and instantly it's almost like Kenji was a teenage girl. Nodding his head and promptly moving aside to let you in, he shuts the door behind you and follows after you into the kitchen.

“So,”

“So?”

He stares at you, watching as you take out plates and utensils for the two of you. “Seems like you've got this whole place down. I would've thought you owned the place instead.”

“I wish I owned this.” You only laugh, shrugging your shoulders, watching him stare at you and you swore he could melt things with how intense he's looking at you. “Seriously, when are you giving me the ownership of this house?”

He only rolls his eyes, walking over to you and nudging you lightly by the shoulder, helping you set the whole thing before he recognises the familiar look of the meal. It was from that one restaurant he'd promised to bring you but never got to.

“Thank you, by the way,” Kenji says, glancing at you from the corner of his eye with a soft smile. It was really the only thing he can say considering it was his mistake to have put all else before you.

“For the food?”

“For everything.” He corrects just before wincing at how absolutely lame and cheesy it sounded. “It sounded better in my head.” He quickly adds, watching you laugh.

“I'll take it.” You reply, enjoying how sweet he was being at the moment. It wasn't even a rare sight for him to treat you so nicely —he always did— but somehow something about the way he talked and looked at you just felt like something was up.

Kenji clears his throat, insisting you sit down on a chair next to him as you two dig into the food you bought from a restaurant that just opened up that you and him always talked about going to. “Wow, it's really good.” He says, glancing at you with a smile.

“Here, taste.” He holds up his chopsticks, the tempura in between as his other free hand is at the bottom opened up to catch any crumb that falls.

“Tastes good, right?” He asks without letting you get another word out as he eats more. “I should've brought you there— the restaurant. I think it would've been a nice experience for us.” He laments without another thought.

“It's fine. Eating takeout with you right now is the same as eating inside the place.” You assure, taking more bites of the meal. “Anyway, what's up with you lately?”

He raises a brow, turning a bit to the side to look at you as his hand stops midway before he takes another bite of his food. “Excuse me?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I really?” He shrugs his shoulders, attempting to push and change the topic. Kenji feels his brows furrow as he pushes the rice in his bowl around with a clear frown.

“Ken.”

And god does it drive him crazy when you call him by just that: Ken. Not Sato, Kenji, nor Ultraman. Ken. Which was weird considering you weren't the first nor the only one calling him by that nickname, but all he knew was that the way it rolled off your tongue just melted him and made him feel good in a way.

Ken sighs, groaning somewhat. He knows there's no escaping you when you set your mind full onto something.

“Okay, I've been busy with other things.” He admits.

“You mean baseball?”

He almost corrected you. Almost. Unfortunately he remembered you weren't aware he was Ultraman or that he was technically the father of a huge 20-foot Kaiju that lives in his basement.

Ken sighs, looking at you with a rather sad and clearly exasperated look. It's clear that he's really tired with whatever he's been busy with. And truthfully, you didn't want him to feel like he was being forced to tell you the truth.

“You don't have to tell me.” You whisper, taking a hold of his hand and squeezing it as you look up at him with a smile. “You'll tell me about it anyway in the future. Eventually, at least I hope.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle as he looks at you with a certain gleam in his eye, his hand squeezing yours back. “Yeah. I probably will.”

“See? And whatever those ‘other’ things are,” You bring up, attempting to cheer him up. Your fist connects with his shoulder playfully before your hand just naturally rests there. “I'm sure you'll handle them just fine no matter what.”

“Besides, I'm here if you need help.”

“I know.” Ken looked over at you, his hand coming up to hold the one you had on his shoulder. He can't exactly find the words to explain things: whatever he's feeling, whatever this moment meant, or whatever you and him were. Why would he need to ponder on your relationship?

You both just sat there, looking at each other expecting something yet also nothing at the same time. Would he? Would you? Neither one of you had any idea on what to do.

“I could kiss you right now.”

Now it was your turn to look at him in astonishment at his blunt words. You could practically feel your eyes leaving your socket and your jaw falling open. “Excuse me?”

“Platonically.” Ken adds in a panic. He sounds surprised and shocked at what he said as if it wasn't him who literally said it out loud. “Like on the mouth— cheek. On the cheek.” He clears his throat, completely looking away from you now with both shame and horror evident in his expression as his fingers begin to drum on top of the table.

The air is tense. The place was now quiet save for the sound his fingers make as they tap. “I appreciate it,” You awkwardly reply, looking away and it's clear both of you are extremely flustered. “The kiss on the cheek.” You said but was that really all you wanted?

“You would?” Ken raises a brow, managing to find some strength in facing you despite the way his heart started to beat in his chest furiously. “Great. I guess we could.. Do that?” He clears his throat, once more already imagining himself hitting his head from the back with a bat. Why did he have to keep talking?

“Deal.”

Despite the tension, whether it be because of the awkwardness or something else entirely neither of you cared as you laughed and ate the food. He told you stories, about his childhood, his work, or whatever he's just been up to in general; and in turn, you told him hilarious and rather stupendous jokes you often hear from your coworkers, but it always makes him laugh so you suppose it does the job.

“— and then I accidentally hit her on the head so you can bet it wasn't nice afterwards.” He told you the story of him teaching Emi baseball, disguising Emi as a girl he babysits ‘on the side’ often whom he also grew pretty fond of watching over. “She's a sweet girl. Needy. But sweet.”

You laugh, enjoying his stories which were never dull and always filled with a sense of amazement every time he tells you one. “Well, what else did you expect from a kid?” You reply with an amused smile.

“I knew what to expect, okay?” He chuckles, shaking his head as his thoughts drift to his times of being with Emi and spending time with her who he practically saw as a daughter. “I just didn't expect things to be hard.”

You send him a raised brow and a playful smile. “If I didn't know any better, I would've thought this Emi was your daughter.” You comment. It wasn't really that hard for you to notice how proud he looked when he told you about this Emi. And frankly, this was even the first time he brought her up so it was a surprise for you to learn he even did babysitting as a side job.

Ken nearly chokes on his food at your words. He couldn't be that terrible at keeping his facts straight and making up a whole cover-up story, could he? He turns to you with a forced chuckle leaving his lips. “That just shows how she means to me now, yeah?” He attempts to reply.

“Guess so,”

Eventually, it was getting late, and not wanting you to travel alone back to your home, Ken had insisted you sleep in his room on his bed which surprises you.

“You've got two beds?” You ask, surprised but you follow him to his room nonetheless. In it, you're not surprised with how minimalistic the whole place is. Though you'd probably also be concerned if it was uncharacteristically decorated and done.

Ken raises a brow at you, gesturing to his single bed in the room. “Just that.” He answers, fixing up the bed for you before grabbing some extra blankets and bedsheets from his closet where he neatly places them on the floor.

“Don't sleep on the floor.” You say, stopping him before he can pull some of the pillows down. “I don't mind sharing.”

And so, now, here you both were. Laying down side by side and staring up at the ceiling as silence is present. You're both beneath the sheets, still somewhat wide awake.

“I really appreciate you coming over.” Ken whispers, shifting a bit so he's on his side and looking at you. “You were just what I needed.”

You smile, shifting as well to face him and so you're both staring at each other with wide grins yet shy looks. He was also what you needed. You could tell both your moods improved with just one dinner despite how uneventful it sounded, it meant a lot.

“Thanks, Ken.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

Baseball. Fatherhood. Ultraman.

Maybe he should seriously start wondering if he should also add love onto the list. But for now, with a quick kiss to your cheek (which takes you by surprise), Ken turns around and closes his eyes and feels himself start to dream.

[latenightbreezeinheaven]

Solar return chart observations (2019)

Scorpio rising at 29 degrees

🌪️That year was my most traumatic year.

🌪️There were countless transformations (mostly endings and also new life-changing beginnings) in that year.

🌪️I lost many friends. I got gossiped by the whole class. The whole class didn’t talk to me. I was slut-shamed and they even spread rumors about me being pregnant while I was just gaining some weight. I was notorious with bad reputation in my school. My first love left me. I tried to run away with my first love. My parents caught me and grounded me for several months. I was literally in solitude. I had no one by my side. Both emotionally and physically. I can even write a whole damn book about this year.😭

🌪️However, I learned how to stay alone happily in that year. (It was not an option. The universe was like BAM you need to encounter THIS to achieve THIS success or whatsoever😃).

🌪️My whole personality before and after that year was so different that no one couldn’t recognize me after that year when I went back to school.

Moon in 1st house conjuncts ascendant (in Sagittarius at 0 degrees)

🌪️Maybe due to these traumatic events, my emotions were running high all the time.

🌪️Even though I tried to hide my pain and act like a typical scary silent scorpio rising, people still attacked me because I looked so vulnerable.

🌪️I cried almost everyday in that year.

🌪️Also I gained weight like A LOT MY FACE WAS LIKE AN ENORMOUS MEAT DUMPLING👹👹👹

**I also notice that I gained weight so easily last year when I had scorpio rising even though my moon was in 7th house in Taurus. Might be because of Taurus moon but Idk, scorpio rising year scares me hell a lot now.😺**

Jupiter in 1st house (in Sagittarius at 18 degrees)

🌪️I gained tons of weight because of my only coping mechanism : binge eating and also due to covid and quarantine.

🌪️I felt like food was the only escape in my life and I gained like 60 lbs.🤦🏻‍♀️

🌪️However, I had lucky academic opportunities.

🌪️I had to change my tuition because everyone including the teachers slut-shamed me and only because of that transformation, I finished high school with high marks and now I’m in medical school.

🌪️Thanks to my new teachers from new tuition and also those stupid bitches who believed everything they heard without clearly thinking as grown-up adults.😍

Saturn conjunct Pluto in 2nd house (in Capricorn)

🌪️My self-esteem declined so low that I rarely even went out in that year.

🌪️I felt like no one wanted me and I questioned about my worth like thousand times.

🌪️Throughout the year, transformations related to self-worth and self-love questioned my existence.

🌪️I was always thinking like “do I even deserve to eat this or go to this or be friends with them?” every damn time my mom asked me what I needed and every time someone approached me.

Neptune and Lilith in 4th house (in Pisces)

🌪️My whole family was very confused about me.

🌪️They even thought I was possessed by some ghost because I acted very unusual eg I couldn’t control my anger and I kinda self-sabotaged and I just bursted out and cried so suddenly when I was at home (that was just my trauma response I mean I don’t really know how they expected me to act after all those punishment they gave me and personal attacks received from my ex-mates)😺.

🌪️My parents kept really close eyes on me because they were worried that I would commit su-ici-de and they also had their respective assumptions about me but at the same time, they also outcasted me and thought I was really a slut who slept with lots of men because I did many reckless things without thinking about consequences.

🌪️I also often had intense vivid dreams and nightmares.

🌪️I was addicted to vapes and used them secretly in my room in that year.

🌪️So effed up🔫

Chiron in 5th house (in Aries)

🌪️My first love broke my heart.

🌪️My first serious heartbreak.

🌪️I had to take about 9 months to fully move on from him.

🌪️My inner child got hurt and my creativity and self-expression left my soul in that year.

🌪️I lost my silly child-like spirit in that year.

Uranus in 6th house (in Taurus at 5 degrees)

🌪️At first I was planning to study really hard to prepare for my matriculation exam but due to covid, there were huge unexpected changes in my routines and habits.

🌪️My plans got ruined.

Venus in 7th house conjuncts Amor (in Gemini)

🌪️Amor asteroid represents soulmate.

🌪️I met my first love and fell in love with him like a fool.

🌪️Everyone warned me because they saw red flags🚩🚩🚩🚩but I was blindly in love and was like “I’m gonna marry him”😭😭.*dies of embarrassment*

🌪️That was my first time that I gave actual commitment to someone and I felt like he was my soulmate.

🌪️I couldn’t let go of him for so long.

🌪️I wrote songs about him.

🌪️I wrote short stories about him.

🌪️It was bitter-sweet but now it’s just a memory.🌌

Sun in 7th house (in Gemini)

🌪️My main focus was on relationships relationships RELATIONSHIPS and I strongly desired to build meaningful social connections rather than superficial ones in that year.

🌪️My hidden enemies also pulled their masks off lmao I had to deal with them the whole year because they kept saying things about me that I didn’t even know I did.😩

Mercury conjunct mars in 8th house (in Cancer)

🌪️I remember that I was fully in my hermit mode the year I had this placement.

🌪️I searched articles about how to attack those arseholes spiritually but didn’t really take an action because I believed in karma.🧘🏻‍♀️

🌪️I was always reading books about magic, detective, occult and death and I even thought about committing a su-ici-de because I was severely depressed.

🌪️I was alone but also so blunt (I think I was just trying to protect myself) every time someone tried to befriend me.

🌪️I cursed a lot and my anger issues were like high up in the sky that one time, the wall cracked because I punched while I was angry and I’m just A GIRL🎀💕🥰).

Vertex in 9th house (in Leo at 15 degrees)

🌪️Maybe because of all of this, I started to pray to Buddha every single day in that year.

🌪️I suddenly became so religious and I felt like I only had him by my side.

🌪️My beliefs about religion expanded and I started to learn about other religions too in that year.

🌪️Also fated events occurred at my school so yeah vertex can say a lot about your upcoming year.

🌪️Immediately CHECK YOUR VERTEX IN YOUR SOLAR RETURN CHART RIGHT NOW!!!🥱

My scorpio ascendant was in my natal 5th house

🌪️My main focus was on relationships and dating as I’ve already said.

🌪️I also think I was so fertile in that year or maybe horny?

🌪️I wanted to get pregnant with my first love and I was only 14 at that time💀💀💀 (I know I was so silly but I was just a kid so I forgive myself for that *dies of embarrassment again*).

🌪️Sex education and vapes and drugs might be normal for teenagers in western countries but in my country, they’re like really taboo topics and parents biggest nightmare was their drug addict children getting pregnant😭.

🌪️Almost everyone did not dare to discuss about those openly in those days.

🌪️Also I was just 14 at that time so it’s not my parents’ fault that they stopped me and restricted me too much but however, their punishment was directed in a wrong way and that’s why I had to find other ways to suppress my pain. I don’t know who to blame, myself or those so-called friends or my parents😭.

So in conclusion, it was a very hard year and very life-changing and unforgettable but it shaped me into who I am today so I’m really happy to receive all of those new experiences. English is not my first language so please bear with me if I made some mistakes.🫰🏼💕

Also you can ask me about two placements (maximum) you want from your solar return chart. I’ll answer them as soon as I get free time.❤️

My mood in 2019 as GIF be like:

[ficnation]

Chapter 9: Intentions

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out ”Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,7k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, canon divergence A/n: I know we're still not out of Su-zukana, but we're getting there. I probably won't follow everything that happens in the show. I will skip through some parts. Also I'm not super satisfied with the last scene no matter how many times I rewrite it, so I'm leaving it like this. (unedited)

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

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Hannibal and Will’s eyes lock in a silent duel, the latter’s gaze unforgiving, tinged with feigned ignorance. Will Graham wishes he could stop caring about what happened and what is yet to happen, but he can only pretend.

He studies the psychiatrist from head to toe, silently pleading for a sign from the universe that would reveal what sick ideas were brewing in his mind.

“You were able to reconstruct this killer’s fantasies,” Hannibal’s voice is almost a melody. “One dead creature giving birth to another. The bird, his victim’s new beating heart. Her soul given wings.”

Will’s gaze shifts away from the man before him, his mind conjuring the brutal image of Sarah Craber’s lifeless body, her eyes forever staring into the void. The way the psychiatrist describes it aligns with your words, and Will finds himself reluctantly agreeing. It’s a brutal kind of poetry, one that leaves an indelible mark on the soul.

“Rebirths can only ever be symbolic,” Will states, seemingly uninterested.

“You’ve been reborn.”

That piques his interest; he looks at Hannibal with raised brows. “Wasn’t that the goal of my therapy?”

A pregnant pause hangs between them as the other man carefully selects his words. Will finds it disappointing when the topic of conversation is swiftly shifted.

“How does it feel consulting again with Jack Crawford and the FBI? Last time, it nearly destroyed you.”

Will blinks rapidly and licks his lips in annoyance, a subtle sign of his inner turmoil. He knows he can’t allow his emotions to overpower him. Certainly not now.

“Last time, you nearly destroyed me,” he states the obvious. Hannibal’s gaze shifts to his hands lying in his lap, a subtle indication of his own contemplation.

“After everything that has happened, Will, you still believe—” his words trail off into silence as Will cuts him off swiftly, his voice almost amused.

“Stop right there.”

Hannibal blinks slowly, meeting the other man’s gaze head-on. Will notices he almost looks ashamed, but he’s not entirely convinced that the killer in front of him is capable of feeling anything, let alone shame.

“You may have to pretend, but I don’t,” Will asserts, his tone firm and unwavering.

Hannibal’s gaze softens, a glimmer of understanding flickering in his eyes. “No, you don’t,” he agrees, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity. “Not with me.”

There’s a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a moment of unspoken connection between them, despite the chasm of their differences.

“I don’t expect you to admit anything. You can’t. But I prefer sins of omission to outright lies, Dr. Lecter. Don’t lie to me.” Each word is enunciated with deliberate care, emphasizing the gravity of the statement.

As their eyes meet, the sunlight streams through the window, casting a golden hue that dances across their faces. The gentle rays illuminate the room, creating a warm and serene atmosphere despite the tension between them. The dim sunlight seems to linger, as if highlighting the intensity of their quiet exchange and emphasizing the gravity of the moment.

“Will you return the courtesy?” the psychiatrist’s question hangs in the air, awaiting a response.

Will remains silent, knowing that Hannibal will interpret his lack of response as agreement.

“Why have you resumed your therapy?” his voice is steady, probing for the truth.

“Can’t just talk to any psychiatrist about what’s kicking round my head.” Will replies, his tone casual yet guarded. Hannibal scrutinizes him closely, searching for any telltale signs of deception or sincerity.

“Does she know?”

“About me being back in therapy with you? Yes.”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Will. Does she know?”

Will sits in silence for an excruciatingly long moment, contemplating which pieces of truth he should divulge and which he should leave behind.

The room grows unbearably hot and airless, and his breath comes quick and heavy. He can feel his heart hammering against his chest, demanding to be let out. He’s struggling with a familiar feeling, the kind that threatens to overwhelm—to swallow him whole. And he’s powerless against it.

Finally, he finds the words, but they’re hardly a relief to the growing burden in his chest. “Yes.”

“What did you tell her, Will?” Hannibal’s voice carries more curiosity than anger. Will isn’t sure if he expected something more profound or revealing from his response.

“Everything.”

Hannibal’s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise, but his expression remains unreadable.

Will feels an intense urge to elaborate, to fill in the missing pieces, to explain the whole picture. But he bites his tongue, choosing to stay silent instead, to keep his secrets. Hannibal remains still for a moment, taking in the information, assessing Will and his answer.

After a while, he speaks, “Does she know why?”

“Hannibal, I don’t even know why you did what you did.”

“Perhaps you never will,” Hannibal replies cryptically, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement. His eyes narrow, piercing Will like a knife. “And yet, you came to me in spite of that.”

“You wanted her to come back. Why?” Will asks. He’s not going to give up that easily.

“Because she’s brilliant, Will. She understands people in ways no one ever has. She’s perceptive and intuitive, and she’s not afraid to stare into the abyss. I’ve been searching for such an individual for a very long time.”

“I reckon asking you to leave her alone would be futile,” Will suggests with a resigned tone.

“Indeed,” Hannibal acknowledges with a faint smile. “But I promise to handle the situation delicately.”

“Handle it delicately?” Will asks, unable to keep the surprise and amusement from his voice. He’s never expected such words from Dr. Lecter, not when it comes to you. “Can you promise me she’ll be safe?”

Hannibal hesitates for a moment, clearly weighing his answer before speaking. “I can promise you that I have no intention of harming her,” he replies, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “However, I am also aware that my intentions may not always be the most relevant factor when it comes to such matters.”

Will finds himself contemplating the psychiatrist’s words, feeling an intense frustration at the answer, despite knowing that Hannibal will never offer more. He wants to ask further questions, to keep digging for answers, but the words won’t form. He’s been given an answer. For better or worse, that will have to be enough.

He speaks, his voice barely registering above a whisper, “Thank you.”

“Do you fantasize about killing me, Will?”

“Yes.” Now, more than ever.

Hannibal raises an eyebrow, his eyes studying the other man carefully. The question hangs in the air for a silent moment, the two men locked in a tense staring contest. Will breaks his gaze, his eyes dropping to his lap. There’s an uncomfortably long pause, one that leaves him feeling more exposed than he ever has.

The psychiatrist speaks again, his voice carefully measured but still carrying a hint of curiosity, “Tell me. How would you do it?”

Will feels an intense surge of anxiety, the idea of sharing his murderous fantasies almost too much to bear. His heart beats rapidly, his breaths come short and shallow, and his palms are damp with sweat. He hesitates, taking a deep breath in an failed attempt to settle his nerves.

Finally, he answers, his voice trembling slightly as he speaks, “With my hands.”

“Then we haven’t moved past apologies and forgiveness, have we?” Hannibal studies his face quietly for a moment, his eyes scanning Will’s features, searching for any hint of deceit.

“We’ve moved past a lot of things. I discovered a truth about myself when I tried to have you killed,” Will says slowly, a hint of reluctance in his voice. 

Hannibal’s gaze remains unwavering, a steady, almost calming presence. He’s unfazed by Will’s blunt statement, his face uncommonly relaxed as he listens.

“That doing bad things to bad people makes you feel good?”

Will blinks and nods, a tinge of surprise in his eyes. No one has spoken this truth before, not even himself. But the words seem to provide a sense of closure. There is no judgment, no criticism; merely a statement of fact, a mutual understanding.

“Yes.”

“I need to know if you’re going to try to kill me again, Will.”

“I don’t want to kill you anymore, Dr. Lecter.” The man swallows and shakes his head. “Not now that I finally find you interesting.”

There’s an intense silence between them, Hannibal’s face betraying no sign of shock or surprise at the confession. The man merely listens calmly, processing Will’s words as he studies the man’s every feature.

“Your honesty is both refreshing and concerning,” the psychiatrist says with surprising ease.

“Thank my wife. She makes an honest man out of me.”

As you lie asleep in your bed, the quiet of the night envelops you, broken only by the gentle hum of the old bedside lamp and the crackling of the fireplace. You’re lost in a dreamless slumber, your mind temporarily free from the weight of the day’s responsibilities. It’s probably the best sleep you’ve had in a while. Sadly, it doesn’t last long.

The shrill ring of your phone shatters the stillness, jolting you awake with a start. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you fumble for your phone on the bedside table, heart pounding with a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

With a groan, you swipe to answer the call, your voice husky with sleep as you mutter a tired, “Hello?”

On the other end, Jack’s voice crackles through the line, urgent and insistent. “Agent Avant, we need you at the crime scene immediately. There’s been a development in the case.”

The words cut through the fog of drowsiness, instantly sharpening your focus. You sit up in bed, running a hand through your tousled hair as you process Jack’s message. “What kind of development?”

“I can’t discuss it over the phone. I’ll send you the adress. Get here as soon as you can.”

“Understood,” you reply, your tone firm and decisive. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

With a sense of urgency, you throw off your covers and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You reach for your clothes, hastily dressing in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, your mind already racing with possibilities. You grab your badge and gun, slipping them into their accustomed places on your belt, and make your way to the door.

As you step out into the cool night air, you feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Though weary from the abrupt interruption to your rest, you know that duty calls, and you’re ready to answer it with unwavering resolve, just like in the good old days.

With each step towards your car, you embrace the night’s unexpected summons, steeling yourself for the challenges that lie ahead. In the world of law enforcement, there’s no such thing as ordinary hours—only the relentless pursuit of justice, no matter the hour or the cost. Oh, how you hate it.

You slide into the driver’s seat of your car, the engine rumbling to life beneath you as you buckle up and prepare to head to the address Jack has sent you. You’re glad to have your own car back; depending on Will wouldn’t do you any good in situations like this.

Before pulling away, you instinctively reach for your phone, hoping for a message from your husband to ease your mind.

As the soft glow of the screen illuminates your face, you quickly navigate to your messages, heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and dread. But as you scan through the notifications, disappointment washes over you—there are no new messages from Will, and he isn’t home either.

A knot forms in the pit of your stomach, a nagging sense of worry gnawing at your thoughts. You remind yourself that Will was never one to provide constant updates on his whereabouts. He’s always been independent, often immersed in his work with little regard for the passage of time. Yet the silence from him tonight feels different somehow, unsettling in its absence.

Pushing aside your concerns for the moment, you tuck your phone back into your pocket and focus on the road ahead. There will be time to address your worries later, but for now, duty calls, and you must answer—no matter the personal cost. With a determined set to your jaw, you shift into gear and press on into the night. Having agreed to return to work for Crawford, you’re determined to give it your all.

“We found Sarah Craber’s grave and fifteen others,” Jack Crawford informs you the moment you step out of the vehicle.

“Fifteen?” you repeat, unable to hide the stunned note in your voice. You knew the killer had murdered others before Sarah Craber, but the discovery of fifteen additional victims is shocking on a whole different level. “How long has he been active?”

Jack’s face is grim, his expression somber as he speaks. “The earliest victim was buried eight years ago. The most recent grave is only two weeks old.”

You dare to focus your eyes on the crime scene behind your boss’ back. The sight in front of you takes your breath away—not in a good way.

The dim light of the night provides only limited visibility, casting the landscape in shadows and silhouettes. Yet, the shapes around you paint a clear picture, a horrifying image of a killer’s work. 

You can see the dug-out graves, dotted here and there—the final resting places of his victims. You can see the rows of police tape, marking off a boundary that no one is allowed to cross. You can see the solemn faces of the technicians, the detectives, the forensics, and other members of the investigative team.

“Fucking hell, Crawford.”

There’s a beat of silent hesitation before he continues, “And I’m afraid it gets even worse—”

You look at him with wide eyes, annoyance bubbling up beneath the surface of your skin. “You said I didn’t have to look at the bodies. You said that to me, Jack.”

“I said you didn’t have to get close to the bodies,” he corrects you with a hint of irritation. “But you’ll have to see them, at least from a distance. We have to assess the situation, and you’re our best profiler. It’s your job.”

“I didn’t sign up for this.”

“Didn’t you? You came back to the agency. This is what we do. You know that.”

“Yes, I came back. But you said I wouldn’t have to see the bodies.”

Jack sighs, a hint of impatience in his voice. “I thought I could shield you from that side of it, but it’s not worth risking your expertise when you can make a valuable contribution here.”

You feel your blood boil as you duck under the police tape and head toward the graves. “Let’s just get this fucking done,” you mutter through gritted teeth, your frustration evident in every word.

As you make your way toward the nearest body, the reality of the situation begins to sink in. It’s one thing to know that a serial killer has been active in this community for years, but it’s a completely different thing to actually see the proof of his crimes. The graves offer no comforting illusion—they’re real, and they represent the brutal truth and senselessness of the killer’s actions.

As you gaze upon the rows of bodies, or rather what was left of them, a realization dawns upon you with striking clarity.

“They’re all women?” you remark, the observation coming swiftly and without hesitation as your eyes sweep over the somber landscape.

Each marker bears testament to the lives lost, their identities hidden by the earth until this moment. There’s a solemnity in the uniformity of the graves, a shared narrative of female lives cut short, each one a story untold and a voice silenced.

In that moment, amidst the hushed whispers of the wind and the solemn rustle of leaves, you can’t help but feel a pang of sorrow for the women who now rest beneath the earth, their stories lost to time but not forgotten.

“Alright, he got comfortable.”

“Too comfortable?” Jack questions, eyebrow raised, ready to find out if you’re close to catching the serial killer.

You nod in agreement. “Way too comfortable.”

When a predator becomes comfortable, it means they believe they’re in control. And when they’re think they’re in control, they’re more likely to make mistakes.

The killer’s overconfidence in his ability to evade detection is evident. He’s been operating for years, right under your noses, taking the lives of innocent women and burying them in shallow graves that are easy to uncover once people start paying attention. You realize that this killer has been playing a dangerous game long enough to develop a deep sense of hubris; he truly believes he’s invincible. Arrogance seeps from every part of his crimes.

“So, it’s not Peter Bernardone?”

You crouch nearby one of the dug-out holes and observe as a forensic inspects the decomposing body. “Tell me, Jack, does Peter Bernardone ooze arrogance?”

Jack ignores your snarky remark as he considers your question for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I wouldn’t say so,” he decides. “Quite the opposite.”

“You really had to think about that one, huh?” You snort and shake your head in disbelief. “That man is a sheep, Jack. And this was done by a big bad wolf.”

Jack allows himself to crack a small smile at your analogy. “You’re right, this doesn’t fit Peter Bernardone; the arrogance doesn’t match the man. But there are a few others I have my eye on.”

“No, I don’t think he’s one of them.” 

Jack raises an eyebrow. “I’m interested to know who you think it is then.”

“How the hell would I know?” you retort, shrugging your shoulders in frustration.

“Your job is to figure that out,” Jack scolds you, growing tired of your complaints and excuses. “So what are you going to do now, Agent Avant?”

“I—” you start, then stand back up with a sigh. “I will find a bottle of good booze to lull me to sleep today.”

Jack’s face softens at the joke, the slightest hint of a smile gracing his lips. “That sounds like a plan. I don’t suppose you’re going to share?”

“You’re welcome anytime, boss.”

Jack nods, then gestures for you to continue examining the bodies. “Go on. We’re not done here yet.”

“Thought sharing the booze meant we’re ditching,” you mumble in resignation.

“Not until we’re finished here.” Jack indicates the bodies in front of you. “This is hardly the kind of case where you can get drunk and call it a day, Agent Avant. We still have work to do.”

“Alrighty.”

When you return home, the cold seems to have intensified. You lock the car, clutching a bottle of cheap wine under your arm. Sure, you could have splurged on something better, but right now, good taste isn’t your priority. You are aiming for a one-way ticket to Drunkville, with fingers crossed that the morning hangover won’t be too punishing.

The cold air nips at your cheeks, the bottle of wine under your arm a tangible reminder of the purpose of your excursion. You seek a distraction, anything to divert your mind from the day’s grim events. Yet, even as you hum a lighthearted tune, your thoughts stubbornly gravitate back to the graves and the haunting visages of the deceased women interred in the damp soil.

A complex array of emotions churns within you—grief, anger, irritation... perhaps even a touch of admiration? It was an unsettling sensation, one that you had experienced all too often before.

You dare to look ahead, your eyes tracing the outline of the forest behind the house, barely visible in the darkness of the night. It’s a mistake.

As soon as your gaze settles on the trees, you hear a faint scream emanating from that direction. You try to convince yourself it’s just your imagination playing tricks on you, but you can’t shake the feeling of unease that settles over you.

The scream gives you pause, causing you to hesitate on the icy pavement. You entertain the fleeting thought that it might be your tired mind, but then it comes again—a desperate cry for help echoing from somewhere near the woods behind the house. The sound sends a chill down your spine, a stark reminder of your solitude in this desolate place.

Despite knowing better, your legs carry you forward through the clearing behind the house, drawing you closer and closer to the trees where the sound originated. The urgency in the scream compels you to move, your heart pounding in your chest as you approach the edge of the forest.

Your footsteps are unsteady on the icy ground as you pause just outside the woods, letting your eyes adjust to the darkness. The dense trees obscure your vision, and the faint light barely penetrates the forest, leaving your visibility limited to mere feet around you. You press on, determined to uncover the source of the distressing sound.

The screaming fades into silence, leaving only the sound of your own unsteady breathing echoing in the stillness of the night. You slip further into the woods, each step cautious and deliberate, the snow crunching under your boots. Despite the chill in the air, your clothes provide little warmth against the biting cold, and the shelter of the trees does little to shield you from the relentless wind.

The wind carries the cold air deep into your lungs, making your breath come out in cloudy puffs. Your coat offers little protection, and you feel the wind whistling through it, chilling your body to the core.

You take a few more steps, the trees growing thicker around you with each passing moment. 

You pause, listening intently, trying to discern the direction from which the cries for help emanated. But in the silence of the night, your own heavy breathing is the only sound that reaches your ears. 

The shrill of a scream shatters the stillness of the air, bursting through right behind your back, no more than a few feet away. It’s so loud that you instinctively cover your ears, feeling the jolt reverberate through your entire body.

In the chaos, the bottle of wine slips from your grasp, crashing to the ground and shattering upon impact with a nearby rock. Red wine splashes onto your boots and calves, staining the pristine snow with dark splotches.

You gape at the scene with wide eyes, heart racing in your chest as adrenaline floods your system. Your whirl around in an instant, your eyes scanning the area for any sign of the origin of the scream.

But the woods remain still, enveloped in an eerie silence, with only the moonlight filtering through the trees, casting shifting shadows that seem to dance around you. A shiver runs down your spine as you become acutely aware of just how isolated you are in this dark forest, surrounded by unknown dangers.

Your legs carry you as fast as they can, propelling you back the way you came, away from the ominousness of the forest. Panic surges through you, urging you to flee, to escape the darkness closing in around you.

Every step feels like an eternity as you race through the woods, your heart pounding in your chest, the echo of the scream still ringing in your ears. All you can think about is getting away, getting back to safety, away from whatever lurks in the shadows. Your senses are on high alert, every rustle of leaves and crack of twigs makes you jump.

The darkness seems to press in on you from all sides, suffocating and oppressive. Adrenaline courses through your veins, fueling your desperate flight through the underbrush.

You can’t see what’s behind you, but you can feel its presence, a looming specter haunting your every step. Terror grips you in its icy grasp, driving you onward, even as your legs threaten to give out beneath you. You push through the pain, pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion in your frantic bid for escape.

You look behind you, but all you can see is darkness. You’re just about to reach the clearing when you collide with someone with so much force that it takes both of you down.

Your breath rushes out in a startled gasp as you scramble to disentangle yourself from the other person, heart hammering in your chest. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you push yourself away from them, scrambling backward on all fours until you’re a safe distance away. Panic surges within you, making your movements frantic as you try to orient yourself in the darkness. The shadows obscure the details, making it difficult to see who or what has you so rattled.

The person mutters your name in panic. It’s Will.

The instant you hear the familiar voice, you know that you’re safe—that whatever was chasing you is gone. You let out a shaky sigh and release the tension in your muscles, suddenly realizing how close you were to losing control of the situation.

But his sudden appearance leaves you confused, and you can’t help but ask, “What are you doing out here?”

“I heard your scream. Are you alright?” He stumbles in your direction in panic, hands outstretched to grab your arms.

The confusion only grows as you listen to his question, certain that you never made a sound. You didn’t scream, yet he’s insistent that he heard it. And even though you know your voice would be distinctive in the silence of the woods, he still seems to be under the impression that you were the one who called out for him.

“I didn’t scream,” you insist, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggle to make sense of the situation. “I heard it too, but it wasn’t me.”

You don’t know what to make of it, and the uncertainty makes your nerves flare. You start backing away from his touch, keeping an eye on him as you try to make sense of what’s happening.

“I don’t understand,” you murmur, your voice trembling slightly with a mixture of fear and confusion. “I didn’t scream. It wasn’t me.”

“What do you mean you didn’t scream?” He seems taken aback by your response, his gaze darting around as he tries to process what you’re saying. “I ran here as fast as I could after I heard you. Are you trying to tell me I imagined it?”

You can feel the tension in his voice, the confusion mirrored in his expression. There’s a palpable sense of urgency in his demeanor, as if he’s desperately trying to make sense of the situation.

You shake your head vigorously, repeating like a mantra, “It wasn’t me.”

“Then who was it?” He glances around the woods again, searching for clues in the darkness. “Who else could be out here?”

“Let’s go home,” you say, ignoring his question and rising to your feet with the help of his steady arms.

Your legs still feel shaky after the run through the woods, and you lean on his arms for support as you try to regain your bearings. The cold air nips at your cheeks, making it hard to breathe, and the sudden burst of adrenaline has left you feeling exhausted. You let him guide you toward the house, not wanting to spend another moment in the dark woods.

“Don’t ever let me near those woods again,” you mutter, the words tumbling out without thought. Your voice trembles with a mix of fear and frustration, the events of the past few hours weighing heavily on your mind.

As you take the final few steps toward the house, you’re grateful to be out of the forest, but a lingering unease gnaws at you. Something about the whole evening feels off, and the fact that Will is here only adds to your discomfort.

As his arms envelop you, you feel a creeping unease settle over you, intensifying with each passing moment. His embrace should be reassuring, but instead, it triggers a disturbing sense of déjà vu. In this moment, you find yourself unable to be reassured by anyone or anything.

His eyes seem to darken, and before your startled gaze, antlers begin to emerge from his head, a surreal and terrifying transformation unfolding before your eyes.

The longer he holds you, the more your anxiety mounts, until you can no longer bear it, pulling away sharply, desperate to escape the unsettling sensations gripping you. Blinking in disbelief, you look back at him, finding no trace of the eerie transformation you just witnessed.

Taglist (I tag ppl that leave a comment or ask me for it): @strrvnge @raininhell @crowsoundsonly @gabriella-aesthetic @gayschlatt69 @russian-soft-bitch @lokittyy @hellouseemc00l @justaproudslytherpuff @it-s-tickety-booh @r4diocabeca @sanriogarbage @zoleea-exultant @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @emily-roberts @unsolvedghoulboyz @00hellohello00 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @jadenblueberry @slashercupcake @octobermania @magdalenmillicent-blog @unsolvedghoulboyz @gabbyonjupiter

Leave me an ask or a comment if I forgot to add you <3

[writingforatwistedworld]

Self-aware au

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, death, poison, possessiveness, obsession, implied manipulation, unhealthy relationship

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from

Entering your world

Returning home one day and finding a character from a game in your supposedly save heaven was definitely not something that was on your “definitely want to experience” list

But here he was, Vil Schoenheit himself… and he was crying the moment he saw your face?

Total confusion. Yeah, I understand.

After him apologizing, his reasoning for crying was being too happy to be in your presence, he explained how he went to sleep and woke up here

Did this remind you of the typical isekai trope? Yes but who were you to complain?

After all, you had a magical model sitting there on your shaggy couch

For the next few days, you expected some other character to pop up or Vil to suddenly undergo a magical girl transformation like they were used so many times in anime but thank goodness that didn’t happen because you weren’t sure if your heart could take any more surprises

Living with Vil was surprisingly relaxing though

It is no secret that Schoenheit is loaded from all his modeling and acting so you expected him to be more or less useless when it was about making himself useful

But would you look at that? He was actually pretty good

So good in fact that you had already dubbed him your househusband and even saved him under that name on your phone after he got his own

Of course, you never said that to him in his face

And for that, I thank you

You see, Vil wouldn’t do this for everyone he met. Oh no. He would probably just throw money at them to pay some sort of rent and then go on with his day

But you were the Overseer! The hecking OVERSEER!!!

When he first saw you, tired eyes and hair that could only be described as being a bird nest looking at him from a long day of work, he could not hold himself back

Tears of joy streamed down his cheek, him thinking that he died and ascended to heaven

Only after you asked him how he got here and offered a place to stay did he finally understand that this wasn’t just some sort of delirium or dream, no he was with you

He nearly started to cry again and his thought process, his head being filled with screams of happiness, must have been a copy of his own fans whenever they saw him

So he took his job as your househusba- *ahem* “roommate” seriously

What he might not even admit to himself was that he didn’t do this just because he thought so highly of you. No. It just meant easy access to your more private areas of your life

Your room was just so nice! Your bed felt like he was laying on clouds and it also smelled like you! Oh, did you save him under “house husband” on your phone? In that moment he squealed

He might even keep some things from you. Nothing too bad. Just a shirt or hoody… maybe he took more than just one

But the Overseer forbid- wait that saying doesn’t work here

But goodness forbid you bring someone into the small bubble of him and you

They don’t even need to do something bad. Vil will just see something that isn’t even there

That one friend of yours? Oh, they threw some disgusting looks in your direction. (They didn’t, he just imagined it)

I would like to remind you that TWST is apparently a place where it’s totally cool to teach teenagers how to make poisons

Yeah, he might not have a lab or certain equipment here but he can work with what he got. Especially since househusbands are always surrounded by chemicals

Suddenly that person is gone. Apparently, they have eaten something wrong but the doctors are just confused about how and why and so much more

The longer he stays the more possessive of your attention he gets

Mention someone and suddenly they also fall sick

And all he did was hand them a homemade meal. People are so picky about what they eat these days…

[hyunjinners]

✧:･ﾟSandwiches → Kim Sunoo 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ˚₊· ꒰🥪꒱

꒰ 命 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ꒱┊Sunoo likes to eat good sandwiches, but only the ones made by her best friend, but what happens when she's making them for another boy?

꒰ 命 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ꒱┊Kim Sunoo x fem!reader

꒰ 命 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ꒱┊lots of cuteness, jealousy, schoolgirl au, friends in love, Sunoo really wants Y/n only for himself.

꒰ 命 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ꒱┊none

꒰ 命 𝐖.𝐂 ꒱┊2,1k

꒰ 命 𝐀/𝐍 ꒱┊I'm following the enha again, so I thought nothing better than doing a chapter about my bias :)

⊹₊˚ʚ❛masterlist❜ɞ

WHEN you ask anyone what food reminds them of their childhood, they will automatically remember something made by their grandparents or even their parents.

However, for Sunoo, when he talks about any food that reminds him of his childhood, he would instantly remember his best friend.

Y/n has always been an independent child, being that typical child who is praised for being so mature and has high expectations of being an incredible adult.

During elementary school, her parents worked full time and often weren't even able to take her to and from school. Thanks to this, she was kind of forced to mature prematurely, learning to take care of herself quickly.

So, from the age of eight, every single day she was responsible for making her own snack. Of course, for a child she had her limitations, so her mother made lunch.

All the elementary students were enchanted by their independence and had Y/n as the most mature figure in the school, earning daily praise from her classmates.

And this popularity quickly reached the ears of Sunoo, Y/n's childhood best friend. They had known each other since birth, complementing each other and never really being apart from each other for long. Their parents thought this was really cute, so they nurtured this friendship by allowing them to see each other even outside of school.

Sunoo was proud that his best friend was so popular and strong, saying with conviction wherever he went that she was the best friend of all and that he was very lucky to have her. As time went by, she decided to please Sunoo by making snacks for him too and he felt extremely special for being the only one who ate the snacks made by Y/n.

Time passed and Y/n continued to improve her culinary skills and when they were in high school, she knew how to make the most varied foods and was proud of it. One time she even had lunch at her house and invited Sunoo. He swore he had never smiled so much in one day.

Even though she is extremely talented in the kitchen, Sunoo's favorite dish is still the delicious and simple sandwiches she has made since she was little. He felt as if they had a special bond, as if that simple meal strengthened the bonds between Sunoo and Y/n.

And today was no different. Lunch time finally arrived and Sunoo eagerly left the classroom and practically ran down the hall after Y/n. Unfortunately they didn't have many classes together, but at least they had a whole break to talk about anything and everything.

He thoroughly searched the entire length of the school yard, a place where they usually met to eat together, but he couldn't find her anywhere. He inspected the place one last time and went to look in other areas of the school where she was usually located.

After a while, he noticed that the break was almost over. Sighing in disappointment, he walks to the cafeteria so he can at least eat something before the day ends.

❪ 🥪 ❫

The sun was almost setting when Y/n was anxiously waiting for Sunoo at the school gates. Looking at the students leaving, she finally spotted Sunoo and waved at him happily with both arms, being greeted by a warm smile coming from him.

─── Where have you been? I looked for you at lunch, but I couldn't find you anywhere.

Sunoo speaks in a fake disappointed tone, looking her up and down.

─── oh my God! I completely forgot to tell you, I'm sorry. Mrs. Choi assigned me to tutor a boy in my class, so we stayed late in the library. I ended up losing track of time and when I went to notice the break it was already over.

She explains herself as they walk to their homes side by side.

─── Ah, if that's the case... Then it's okay, I forgive you. But please don't ever do that to me again, if I have to eat cafeteria food one more time I swear I'll hunt for worms on the patio floor.

Y/n makes a disgusted face and lightly hits Sunoo on the shoulder.

─── ew! No need to exaggerate, right?

She laughs at Sunoo's exaggeration and he responds with his usual mocking eye roll.

─── Will you be at the library tomorrow too?

─── oh yes. Classes will only last for two more days.

❪ 🥪 ❫

Said and done, the next day, Sunoo wasted no time and ran to the library. The fact that he hadn't had lunch with her the day before left him frustrated, but at least now he could catch up on all the gossip he heard in the hallways and talk about events in his classroom.

He approaches the table where Y/n is happily sitting, but his smile gradually drops when he sees who is sitting next to her.

Lee Joonho.

Why just him?

Lee Joonho is another one of the classmates who grew up together with Sunoo and Y/n. The problem is that he had a crush on Y/n since elementary school. Sunoo still remembers the time Joonho called him to ask if he could give Y/n's number, as he was interested in her. He still remembers the desire to squeeze Joonho's neck.

As he denied Joonho's request, the two never really understood each other again, forming a feeling of mutual hatred. Just imagining what Joonho was thinking when he was alone with you inside the library made Sunoo's blood boil with anger. I mean, he's also a man, so he has an idea of what's going on in other people's heads.

Having no idea what's going on, Y/n smiles happily as she sees Sunoo approaching, but she barely notices the discomfort evident on his face.

─── I'm glad you're here, Sunoo! I think you probably already know Joonho, so I don't think it's necessary to introduce them, right?

Sunoo sits right in front of them, staring deadly at Joonho, who just returns the look.

─── Yes, I know.

With a sinister smile, Joonho feigns affinity by responding in a forced tone of sympathy.

─── I think it's cute that you're still friends after so long. I really thought you guys would stop talking to each other in high school.

He rests his hand on Y/n's shoulder, affectionately stroking the area, but she doesn't seem to feel discomfort or really understand the real intentions behind that touch.

Sunoo closes his fists, pressing the sides of the chair where he is sitting. He wanted to hide his anger just to not make Y/n uncomfortable, but it was really hard not to make it obvious.

Who does he think he is? And why is he so close? Did he come to study or take advantage of sweet and affectionate girls?

Despite the anger in his thoughts, he tries to appear as calm as possible.

─── I think we like each other too much to just stay away.

Sunoo responds sarcastically, almost happy to feel victorious when he sees the anger behind Joonho's eyes.

─── right, boys. What do you think we eat now? That's why you came here, isn't it, Sunoo?

Sunoo's gaze softens as it rests on Y/n's cheerful figure. He nods and adjusts his posture so he can eat properly.

Taking the sandwiches from inside her cooler bag, Y/n takes out the sandwiches and Sunoo couldn't help but notice that she didn't make one more for Joonho. He smiles victoriously, gratefully taking the sandwich Y/n handed him, delighting in the first bite he took.

Sunoo's breath hitches in his throat when he sees her breaking the sandwich and giving the other half to Joonho. He starts coughing, almost choking, and doesn't miss his opponent's discreet smile.

─── Oh my God! Sunnie, are you okay?

His stomach might actually turn in a good way when he hears the old, gentle nickname she affectionately calls him, but the surprise at seeing her share the sandwich with that little piece of shit overcame any and all feelings.

Y/n grabs her water bottle, sharing the contents with Sunoo, worried in case he seriously chokes. He drinks the water quickly, and he definitely doesn't know whether the shortness of breath he feels is because of his surprise or because he drank the water so quickly that he barely had time to breathe.

─── Do you feel better?

At this point in the championship, Y/n came around the table, gently patting Sunoo on the back in a somewhat futile attempt to help him. Sunoo just stares at her with wide surprised eyes, then he stands up and grabs her hand.

─── we need to talk. Now.

─── but-

With no room for further complaints, he pulls her outside the library, a little flustered, but maintaining his usual gentle touch.

─── Look, you- you can only…

He runs a hand through his hair completely nervously, standing in front of her with his head down. He can swear it must feel like a bit at this point, so he takes a deep breath to try and calm himself.

─── why did you do that?

─── hmm? Sunoo… I don't understand anything. Are you well?

Her face is clearly filled with confusion and only now does he realize that maybe, just maybe, he had exaggerated a little. He wanted to hit himself right now.

─── Look, I'm sorry, but... who does that little shit think he is? First, he clearly arranged to take these extra classes with you, since obviously the teacher would ask you to explain the material to him because, obviously, You are the smartest and sweetest girl this school has, as well as being very understanding.

Sunoo raises her voice a little, not really caring about it right now. In fact, he wasn't rational at all right now.

─── and now, I am simply forced to see you sharing the sandwich that we always eat together with him? I mean, I know this sounds stupid, but to me it's not. This is very special to me. You are special to me, and so much! So he has no right to steal this from me.

The fast pace of Sunoo's voice matches your heartbeat. His thoughts were racing and he made every effort to think straight about what he said. When he finished speaking, his breathing was completely unregulated.

Once again in that short period of time, Sunoo is caught off guard by his own actions and words, embarrassment taking him over.

─── Are you… are you done, Sunoo?

He doesn't respond, just looking away embarrassed. Gently, she holds Sunoo's hand with one hand and rests the other on his cheek. Leaning forward a little and placing herself on tiptoe, she places a tender kiss on his cheek.

─── you don't have to be like this just because I shared a sandwich with him. But, if it's any consolation, he would never be able to fill the important role you play in my life, Sunoo. You are the only one for me.

He looks at her in amazement, feeling the phantom touch of the kiss that was just left on his cheek.

───… friends shouldn't say things like that to each other, Y/n.

For a second, he could see a flash of disappointment in her eyes. But then he smiles his usual radiant and contagious smile, returning the affectionate touch on her cheek.

─── but particularly? I don't want us to be just friends. I want to be able to love you the right way, the way I always did.

He wraps his arms around her, where she comfortably rests her head on his chest.

─── so let's make it happen.

⊹₊˚ʚ❛original by: @hyunjinners . like × reblog .❜ɞ

[faraway-archive]

I Finally Saw You Again

Yan!Childhood friend x GN reader

Tw: typical yandere stuff, possession (kinda hinted at)

AN; I should really post their intro post before writing their ficts n' stuff & this has a lot of fluff and not really a lot of yandere-ish. Oopsie. Also put your age on your blog or I will block you <3

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

It's been a long time since you've last seen your best friend. He has been with you through thick and thin but suddenly had to move away to his parents to find a better job. You hope he's been doing well and that one day you will find him again. You cherish the fond memories as a kid up till high school were his parents decided to go somewhere else. You always wish he had written back since you've seen so many letters but none ever got returned.

And here you are entering college with no traces of him anywhere on social media. You hope nothing has happened to him or his family since they also have gone radio silent on your parents as well. But at least the show must go on and you continue your academic studies.

While you were entering one of your classes, you didn't notice that your childhood best friend was also in your class. You were so absorbed in trying to find the best spot to sit you didn't see his way in the back of the class. Staring at you and fidgeting with his pencil wondering if he should go and talk to you. Biting his lip he decided not to talk to you. Yet. He just watches you from afar. And thus, class started and ended in a blur. He watches you scramble to get to your next class as he casually walks out.

You were here and he couldn't believe it. All this time you've stayed in your home town while he has been away.

After your last class ends, you quickly rush to the dining hall. Dreading the long wait line as everyone else seemed also ended class as well. While waiting you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around. It was your childhood best friend, Wren. Jumping with joy you hug him and he wraps his arms around you. Once you both let go of your hugs, you realize it is time to enter the dining hall so you quickly grab a seat and wait for Wren to enter in. Soon after you had a lot of time catching up.

"So how have you been Wren? How's your siblings?"

"Things have been well, it was hard adjusting to a new school but I managed. Dove and Robin have been doing well. How have you been doing? Hope you've been doing well. It's nice to see you again," He gives a wink after that last remark.

Blushing from the sudden gesture you replied, "Well I've been doing good as well. I have to ask though, why didn't you respond to my letters?"

Wren taking a bite of his food, "Well, I thought they were being sent to you since I gave them to my parents. But I guess they didn't send it or something came up and it never got to you. Which sucks I will say. Since I thought they were being sent and you just never replied to me. Thought you were ignoring my letters." He softly chuckles at that idea. Either way, he thought, you were going to be his no matter what because he would find you. He would have traveled all over the world to find you because you were the only one who made his heart flutter. You are the reason that he gets out of bed every day because he knows that you are alive.

Taking a sip of your drink you replied, "Well that's strange, I wonder why your parents did that because I was for sure expecting you to ignore me and forget me since, you know, I didn't get any letters back no matter how hard I got them mailed to you. I thought I was going insane."

He hums in response as he continues to eat his food, you on the other hand kept looking at him. You never notice how cute he was or how muscular he has gotten. It's driving you insane with how much he has changed over the years. While staring he can't help but smirk at you looking at him.

"You like what you see darling?"

Taken aback by his words you covered your mouth and quickly stuttered out, "No, I was just admiring the painting behind you. Yeah!"

Softly chuckling at your attempt to hide your reaction, "Ah I see. If you say so."

Quickly finishing your meal you thank him for meeting up with him and rush to go back into your dorm. Embarrassed that he caught you in the act of looking at him. And while doing so he can't help but fall in love again. Smiling at the fact that you are now in his reach. Now that he can truly keep you with him forever he will never let you escape once again.

Ever since Wren saw you in his class, he couldn't stop thinking about you and wanting you. He stalks and follows your every movement. His love for you has re-sparked (not that it was gone in the first place) and he is determined to make sure you are his partner forever.

He couldn't help but stare at you, how beautiful and amazing you looked to him as a kid. You treated him so kindly as if he was a normal person. You were everything to him. He wants you oh so badly you have no idea how much he is wrapped around your pretty finger. Now that he doesn't have his parents on his ass controlling him, he can finally do whatever he wants. What a shame that his parents never gave him your letters but no matter, as long as you were within his sight he could never lose you.

[fiction-is-life]

hi! congratulations on 800 followers <333 i was wondering if i could get lying together in comfortable silence, maybe they’re cuddled up together, either way they’re both mutually enjoying the other’s company with topper. please and thank you!

Cuddles and Competition

Author's Note: Hi, and thank you!! You are always so supportive!! Also, I am soooo sorry I am only now getting to this request! I just completed my hardest year in school and I had no time to write. I wanted to put this out for your birthday but I missed that, so it will be a belated gift, I guess! I hope you enjoy it, love!! 💞

Warnings: none really?

~

“Topper! Meet me in the kitchen. Now!” Dr. Cynthia Thornton called out to her son through the in-home PA system.  You were busy chopping onions for the soup you were making per that lady’s request. You just kept your head down; when she was in a mood it was best just to let your employer run her course.

Topper slowly made his way into the kitchen, a bored look on his face. Cynthia rolled her eyes as she looked up from her phone at him.  “Topper, stand up straight, how many times must I tell you?”

Topper straightened his spine, but his frown didn’t disappear. “Is that why you called me down here?” he intoned, a smirk now playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t be cheeky,” she snapped.  This was typical of every mother-son interaction between the two.  “I have to attend a work event tonight, but I don’t want any funny business.  Rafe and Kelce are not to be here, and absolutely no girls allowed,” she explained while putting her earrings in and fixing the 24K gold bracelet at her wrist.

Topper smirked fully now - his mother had really been getting on his nerves lately with college application deadlines looming over his head.  “What about (Y/N)?  She’s a girl.  And she’s here.”  You could hear the laughter in his voice, and you had to turn away on the pretense of going to the sink so that Dr. Thornton couldn’t see you laugh as well.

Cynthia rolled her eyes.  “She doesn’t count; I would expect you to have more respect for yourself than that.”  That wiped the smirk off of your face.  “I will be home by midnight, and you are responsible for driving (Y/N) home.”  With no further words, Dr. Thornton left the house.

You both waited in silence for the front door to click shut and the roar of her sports car starting to sound a few seconds later.  Once it did, Topper turned towards you slowly, a serious expression on his face.  “So…pizza or Chinese?”

You grinned from ear to ear.  “Both!  Let me throw this soup in the fridge and then I can get Netflix all queued up.”

“Sounds good, sweet thing,” Topper replied, already ordering your usual on door dash.  

Within thirty minutes you were on the couch debating who the best baker on The Great British Bake Off was for that week between mouthfuls of the Outer Banks’ finest late-night cuisine.  The only light in the room came from the living room’s tv and the reflection of the moon and stars off of the Thornton’s pool that was visible from the windows.  

“How do they all mess up something so simple as that for a technical?  Half of them were inedible!”

“Topper, I would love to see you try to make that dessert and come up with something better than the person who took last place,” you teased.

He looked at you with incredulousness written all over his face, but you could see the smile he was holding back with all of his might.  “I could absolutely bake something passable,” he stated, fully believing his words.

“Maybe if you had a full, detailed recipe, but not the paired down version the contestants are given.  I love you, but I would not eat anything you baked without a full recipe - and maybe some youtube tutorials,” you laughed, making him break and join in your mirth before he turned “serious” once more.

“I could absolutely bake something to that standard.” He continued as he started to stand up, “In fact, let’s go into the kitchen and have a little competition of our -” he was cut off by a fast-moving piece of orange chicken hurtling into his mouth.  You giggled once more as he made a show of chewing the chicken you had used to shut him up.

“Seeing as food particles are defying gravity, I guess we can save our baking competition for another day.  To protect myself, I just want to hang out with you and make fun of their accents.  You can be my shield if any pepperoni starts flying,” Topper pulled you practically on top of him as he said this, making you shake your head and laugh, highly amused at his antics.

You didn’t say much else for the rest of the show, just breathing in his scent and basking in his presence.  You had almost fallen asleep from Topper lightly massaging your back as he held you to him when you heard his voice rumble to life after a heavy sigh. 

“I can’t wait to beat you in our baking competition, love.  I can just imagine your face when I pull something out of the oven that absolutely crushes yours.”

You pushed yourself off of his chest at this, his arms falling down to your waist.  “Alright, smarty pants, let's bake something and see who would actually win,” you retorted; he had finally played your competitive streak to his advantage, and now you fully wanted to crush him with your baking prowess.

He just leaned in and kissed the determined look on your face and practically tackled you back into his arms.  Your pout broke as he peppered kisses all over your face before settling his head onto your stomach.  “I’m just kidding, love, we both know you would destroy me in any competition except for surfing,” his smooth voice soothed your ruffled feathers, but you couldn’t help but tease him once more.

“I would destroy you in a surfing competition too, Top, don’t deny it.”

His blue eyes caught yours from his relaxed position.  “You have never surfed a day in your life, (Y/N/N),” he stated.

“And you’ve never baked, Top,” you grinned.

“Touche.” He placed a kiss on the exposed skin of your tummy before you both turned your attention back to the tv with smiles on your faces.  You stayed like that until way past the time you should have left, tempting fate that Dr. Thornton may come back and see you, but neither of you cared.  You just enjoyed spending the rare moments you had alone with each other too much to give up a single second.  It was only then when all your troubles seemed far enough away that you could truly live.

~

Masterlist

Taglist: adventuresinobx @bradleybeachbabe @starkeyobx @penny4yourthoughts @topperscumslut @drewbooooo @honeybear-yammy @gillybear17 @hoebx @spinningintheshadows @fangirlfree @get0ut0fmyr00m @poppet05 @graywrites20 @yellowbitchs-blog @laneyy003 @hydraironcaptian @honeybuzzzzzz​ @powellsugarbaby​ @ietts @art3mas @haven247

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 8

Chapter Seven: Because of You

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 5.4K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, joel actually cares :0, just fucking sad shit tw: trauma from abusive mother, description of child abuse

—————

I cannot cry because I know that's weakness in your eyes. I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh every day of my life. My heart can't possibly break when it wasn't even whole to start with.

Joel and Tommy returned soon after you passed on the question. They expected some resistance or some smart comment but you accepted the meal with a noise of thanks and eyed the medicine Joel provided but took it regardless.

Ellie was quickly berated by both Miller brothers to understand what the sudden calm behavior came from and clearly, the young girl had something to do with it. “I just talked to her?” That was her response and it was the truth. A single conversation with the young girl that didn’t involve scolding or harassment about being seen as ‘normal’ in Jackson was what occurred. Ellie worked at your pace not pushing you to reveal everything and treated you like a human being, not some wild animal that the people of Jackson think you are.

Whatever you took knocked you out leaving you sleeping throughout the rest of the day only to awaken nearing sunset with a healthy meal Ellie had gotten from the mess hall by Joel’s orders but she did sneak some desserts in for you to eat. The environment and relationship that was changing from your near-death experience started to become more noticeable. You still kept to yourself, your bedroom and the stables your sanctuary from all that was outside, you hardly talked to Joel this instinct that keeps you at a distance from the man, Tommy it was more of him talking to you but you would add your two cents in and were so rigid when he would appear at the stables at random times to check in on you or to bring you something to eat.

The only person you would really ‘close’ to was Ellie. You started eating some meals with Ellie just the two of you and she would fill the silence by talking about whatever was on her mind with you speaking at times, she would hang around the stables and help with the horses when she wasn’t at school or hanging with Dina and Jesse. She took you to some places she would go with her friends and there was one interaction where you met Dina and Jesse that didn’t involve you beating someone up or trying to kill them when you first met them. It was awkward with you standing slightly behind Ellie just staring at the two teens as they tried making conversation with you either responding with grunts and nods or not even saying anything. But when Ellie would speak to you a few short sentences would come out but directed to her.

Despite being close to the younger girl and interacting with her friends you kept that boundary with the Millers and yourself. No matter how many times Tommy would invite you over for a ‘family’ dinner you refused.

“I’m not in your family.” And that’s how it would end, no amount of begging or offering of your favorite meals would convince you. Why would you have dinner with people who claimed it was for a family when you had no relation to them?

The cold was only getting more colder entering the final month of the year before spring would soon come. Making sure all the horses had extra hay for this chill in the air especially the two colts that are Dakota’s. Once they were situated you went out to do some last-minute things only to be interrupted by the appearance of Ellie petting one of the horses Shimmer.

“What are you doing here?” Your tone may have sounded cold and threatening to others but the young girl knew otherwise.

“Just wanted to see if you’re done here. I need help moving something from Tommy’s to the house.” She says rocking on her feet it looks like she just got out of school her pack still strapped to her back.

“Why can’t you get Dina or Jesse?” You question grabbing feed from some of the older horses petting Red in passing, “Because the two of them have this dinner date thing—blegh.” She says rolling her eyes and making a gagging noise.

“I thought they broke up?” You were very confused by the two’s on-and-off relationship, “Yeah they are doing this date to see if they want to get back together. Come on let’s go I need your help and everyone else is busy.”

Adding the remaining food in the large trough outside all of the older horses' section you move back inside grabbing your coat and throwing it on. “Fine.” Ellie pumps a fist up in the air with glee as you take your time signing out in the log and writing some notes on items needed. Ellie rocks on the heels of her feet,

“Come on let’s goooo.” She groans and you follow the girl out of the stables trying to take the quickest route to Rancher Street. Normally you would take backstreets walking through the few wooded areas only to walk through the main streets when completely abandoned. The awkwardness from the lingering stares from people as you follow the younger girl like a shadow keeping close by but distant enough that people seemed to move away when the two of you came near. It didn’t bother you, you weren’t looking for companionship or kindness from these people you didn’t know them and they didn’t need to know you.

The family street appears as the two of you pass by the house you reside in towards the other house containing the younger Miller brother and his wife and child. Ellie bounds up the porch steps letting herself in holding the door open for you to follow. You hear the door close behind you and the sound of voices further into the house but you can’t make it out.

“Tommy we’re here!” Ellie calls out and Tommy responds with an ‘Over here!’ and the two of you enter more into the house. You should have noticed something was off with Ellie’s almost nervous but excited energy. When the two of you turned the corner and saw the dining room you stopped in your tracks. The table was set for dinner food was already prepared Tommy held his son on his hip bouncing the slightly fussy baby, Joel sat on one side of the table already nursing a glass of whiskey, while Maria entered with what you assume was the final piece of the dinner.

“Great you guys are here come sit food is still hot.” Tommy gestures as he places his son into the chair designed for the baby before taking his seat at the head of the table. Maria moves to sit beside her child the baby separating the couple. Ellie already throws off her pack and coat taking a seat beside Tommy leaving an empty seat between Ellie and Joel. You still haven’t moved staring at the display.

“Come on kid, food’s gonna get cold,” Tommy calls out to you and your eyes slowly move from the table to the man. He carries an almost hopeful smile on his face as the others stare at you waiting for you to join in their family meal.

“What the fuck is this.” Void of emotion and sharp edge to your words. You were cornered the air was thin and a pit in your stomach made your insides churn.

“Hey, language,” Joel calls out in a warning tone, especially before the young child. Your gaze snaps away from Joel to Ellie who looks anxious about the growing tension, “You said we were just picking something up from here.” Your throat felt tight and a tingling sensation fills your fingers flexing them trying to gain feeling.

A sheepish look covers the young girl, “You wouldn’t have said yes if I asked. You never said yes before. So I thought this would be the best way to get you to come…” Her plan which everyone else seemed to be involved in had backfired horribly.

“I’m not hungry.” Your response is short already rejecting all of this: this idea, the meal, the people, everything. You didn’t want this. “You haven’t eaten since lunch and that was hours ago.” Tommy brings up having been the one to bring lunch for you just a simple sandwich not filling enough to miss dinner.

“I’m not eating that.” You shake your head sending a glare to the meal before you. Though the smell and appearance of it once made your mouth water and crave it you only felt ill looking at it.

“We can get you something I’m sure we can mix something up real quick. It would be good to all sit together and talk about how our day has been anything just a nice family dinner.” Tommy tries to convince you but it was that one word that made you want to hurl.

“I’m not part of your fucking family.” You hiss taking a step back, “I don’t want this or you or anyone.” You wanted to bolt you wanted to be back in that cabin maybe you should have pressured them more to put you out of your misery back then or maybe not fought as hard against those raiders.

“Why can’t you just accept our help or the fact we care about you?! Sure the world is fucked up but you don’t need to hate the small amount of good that is left,” Ellie stands taking a step towards and a frustrated look crosses her face. “If some shit happened to you just talk to us but don’t fucking act like your the only one suffering. You don’t want a chance to be a part of a family that cares for you again be my fucking guest.” It was like a punch in your gut and if there was any food in your system it would have left your stomach. Your gaze snaps to the three adults each of them with ranges of pity.

Fucking pity.

They saw you as someone weak.

Some broken little thing that needed fixing.

Your gaze pauses briefly with Maria’s, the understanding of how hard those words affected you. She knew the truth she knew why you were cold-hearted your life focused on yourself and everyone else was your enemy. The look of a mother who wished to comfort a child. Why hadn’t you ever received that look? What made you so different that she could never give you that look? It made you fucking sick.

A metallic taste floods your mouth from how hard you are biting your cheek. The weight on your chest felt unbearable just having them stare at you. You don’t even think you could respond unless it was to throw up. It was hot and uncomfortable in that room and it only seemed to rise in temperature. Your vision just seems to tunnel black creeping in from the side.

Fuck you can’t breathe.

You probably could have ripped the door from the hinges from how hard you swung the door open. A loud crash as the door slams against the wall but you don’t even care. Numb feet trip down the steps the coldness of the air heightens as you rush away. The people inside that house their voices fall on deaf ears. You couldn’t hear anything. Blindly letting your body guide you somewhere finding the familiar clearing that was introduced to you by Ellie. Where you sat awkwardly to the side just observing the trio of friends laugh and tell jokes. They tried to include you but you just shook your head listening in as you picked the dirt under your nails. Your chest screamed for air that it desperately needed. The blood spills freely from your mouth staining the snow a crisp crimson. You hold onto a tree with one hand hunched over gasping for air surprised you haven’t buckled over.

Why didn’t she care about you?

Why didn’t she love you? She could have at least pretended for your sake.

And why didn’t he stay? Did he care that little that he didn’t want to try?

Was she right? Just a bastard child to a bastard father.

“Kid?” Your eyes darted spotting the couple standing a few feet away from you. Maria holds her son in her arms the baby is sound asleep wrapped up. Tommy takes a step forward and you react taking a stumbling step back swiping your mouth ridding the blood that paints your lips and a bit of your chin. “You’re alright..” Tommy stops holding his hands out like he’s talking down some rabid animal.

“Tommy,” Maria calls out to her husband who glances back as the woman moves forward, “Go tell the other I got her…give us some time to talk. Girl on girl.” She says before looking over at you who watches the interaction with cautious eyes. Tommy hesitates just for a moment before taking his son and leaving the clearing until it’s just the two of you. Maria heads swiping some snow off the log that substitutes as a bench taking a sit before patting one end. You don’t move keeping your distance.

“You don’t have to might be nice just to sit and talk.” She says warmly, not an ounce of disgust or even remotely upset with your actions in her home. You shuffle forward but sit on the snowy floor a good foot or two separating you. “Ellie is sorry for what she said, though I’m sure she’d feel even worse if she knew how hard those words hit you huh.” She speaks not expecting you to respond. Finding more interest in the snow your gloved hand tracing shapes in the snow.

“Is it the fact that you don’t want to have dinner with us or you’ve never been given the opportunity to have a normal meal with people?” Maria saw the way your gaze snapped to her before darting back to the snow avoidant of the adult’s gaze.

You’re not even sure you’ve had a decent meal in your entire life. Even being here in Jackson you’ve eaten the bare minimum to survive. Why would you indulge yourself in the luxuries of a homecooked meal or even fresh food? You didn’t deserve it, a stranger in this place. No reason for them to feed you well enough until they can throw you make in that cell or perhaps turn you over to the raiders.

“It’s not fair.” You mumble and Maria looks down at you not rushing you to speak, “You live this great life, a perfect little family in this perfect town. Nothing is wrong with you.”

“Not everything is perfect. We’ve all lost something…some more than others. I hav—had a son, Kevin,” Maria falters slightly and you can hear the sudden sadness lace her voice as you look up at her, “He was only three on Outbreak Day. Tommy has lost people he’s cared for, same with Joel and Ellie. It takes time to come to peace and some just never get over it.” Maria says a sense of peace despite the fact of losing a child.

“It still hurts but the pain gets easier but it never leaves. Some days are better than others. I can only be grateful for the life I have now and knowing my little boy is in a better place.” Her voice gets all choked up and she swipes away a stray tear from he misty eyes.

“I’m sure he knows he is loved.” You say softly and she nods looking down as a few tears fall but she takes a moment to compose herself.

“I’m sure in another world both my sons would have known each other. I’m sure in another world your mother would have loved you the way you deserved to be loved.” She says and you’re not sure how to react.

You’re not sure you could ever imagine a world where she loved you. To hold you in her arms like you were fragile glass. To read to you stories about far-off lands of heroes fighting to save the day. To soothe your tears and heal your cuts and scrapes you gained for having too much fun not from getting beaten and burned by those around you. To care about your interests and the things you enjoy. To be funny and make you laugh so hard you cry. To hold your hand when you are scared and protect you from the nightmares and fears that couldn’t hurt you. To make you a homemade meal to sit at a table and talk about your day and just be together. Maybe you would have a day in that picture. He’d come home from whatever job existed before the Outbreak Day, complain about the long day but happy to come home to his daughter and wife.

“I don’t think she’d ever love me no matter what world we lived in.” You wonder what kind of person you’d be in a different life but you believe that some people truly can’t change. Maybe this apocalypse truly brought out the real side that people had hidden in a normal society. “I’d rather have her lie to me. To at least act like she wanted to read me stories, to hold me on the cold nights instead of sleeping by a barely working radiator, to have my father be in my life and not just a string of drug addicts and horrible men, to tend to my wounds from bullies instead of learning how to stitch my first cut at nine, to just sit with me and a goddamn table and talk to me! To treat me like her kid...her fucking daughter instead of some bastard child!” Your throat grew more tight and your vision more blurry. It was anger a hatred towards her. You were jealous of all of those people who had good parents. A father in their life. A mother who loved them. You got neither. You wanted that. You craved it.

“I just wanted a mom.” You gritted out a burning in your eyes until you felt something run down your cheeks. Raising your hand see wetness appear on your gloves before turning your attention to Maria who looks at you sadness covering her eyes. Harshly rubbing your eyes to rid the tears and scowl though not a very good one. “Doesn’t matter it’s stupid anyway.”

“It’s not.” Maria defends against your statement, “You deserved someone to care for you and she failed you. Not you. You deserved that life you wanted and she failed to give that to you. She failed at being a mother. You didn’t fail as a daughter.” She says and it’s quiet between the two of you. A mother who wished she could’ve given the world to her first child but was given the chance to try again and a daughter who gave all she could’ve to a woman who was meant to be a mother and given nothing in return. Maria stands up holding a hand out for you. It’s a moment before you accept her hand though it’s not the action of helping you stand but telling you something deeper.

A mother caring for a child that isn’t even hers.

The walk back to Rancher Street has a new energy and a different feeling. You can’t describe how things changed between yourself and Maria but it did. As the familiar view of the house you occupy with Joel and Ellie comes into view a guiding hand rests on your shoulder and you’re brought away to the house that is Maria and Tommy’s. “Why are we going over here?” You ask confused maybe Joel and Ellie were waiting in their house. But they would have been waiting in their home for you to return.

“Just trust me.” She says and while a part of you, the part that screamed at you to run and hide. To reject this adult’s trust, you didn’t know her, she could hurt you, you don’t know her intentions. But you still followed after her until you reached inside the house that remained empty no sound of Joel or Ellie. Coming around the corner is Tommy and their son held in his arms. “You’re back.”

“Can you go sit at the dining table for a moment?” Maria asks and you nod trailing over to the dinner table to food still set and waiting for someone to eat it. You could hear some muffled voices a whole room separating you from deciphering the words between the couple. The couple returns with the male holding Liam as he places the baby in the highchair. The child babbles at his father before Tommy pulls away heading off to the kitchen with Maria. The baby seems in their own world before he makes eye contact with you and you feel locked in its gaze. A staring contest between a teenager and an infant. Pinned under the child’s innocent gaze unable to react. You weren’t sure what to do. He seems to see something you don’t do before giggles fill the room as it laughs at you. Maria and Tommy return the couple smile softly at the sight.

Your gaze snaps to Maria and Tommy, “I don’t know why it’s laughing at me.” The worried expression only causes the child’s laughter and babbling to increase.

“Well, Liam seems to like you so I don’t think you need to worry about him giggling at you,” Maria says before serving generous portions of food onto a large plate and covering it to keep the food all warm. She gives the plate to Tommy who collects his son and the two head back out and you watch them leave. “Where are they going?” You question as Maria grabs a new plate and starts filling it with a spread of the food placing it at one seat and grabbing a new plate she looks up at you.

“What would you like?” She asks and you look at the food, then the plate, then at her a look of confusion. “What?”

“What would you like to eat? There is chicken, a mix of vegetables, and mashed potatoes with some gravy we also have some leftover cookies but those can be for dessert.” She explains pointing at the different options before you. It hit you hard in the chest what she was doing for you. “You don’t have to stay, I can serve you and you can stay here and I’ll eat somewhere else or you can sit somewhere else in the house if you feel more comfortable.” She reassures you willing to work at your level. To just sit at a table and talk.

“You can choose.” You say fidgeting with the gloves on your hands feeling hot from the layered clothes. She does a spread of the options giving you the option to try everything with portions you would never serve yourself. It was too much food that you didn’t deserve. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen this much food just for you in your life. Maria settles down going to get started on her meal when she looks at you sitting across from her staring at the meal unsure where to start or if you even could. Maria stands up grabbing her plate, “Come on.” She grabs your plate and drink follows after her as the two of you leave the dining room finding yourself in the family room. Maria places her food on the small table in front of the couch gesturing for you to follow.

“You can sit on the floor or the couch whatever you prefer.” She says before moving toward the television to set something up. You sit on the ground your plate of food resting on the table at your chest your legs crossed under the small table. “You can start eating if you’d like. Don’t wait up for me.” She says over her shoulder and the hunger you’ve been holding back has you digging into the meal. Rich flavors and the weight of the fresh warm meal a great feeling in your body. A pleasant sound fills the room as light shines from the tv. Maria sits on the couch her plate resting on her lap as she starts to eat as the film begins on the screen.

“This is one of my favorites.” She says and the film plays and you’re sucked into the story reading the title of the film with wide curious eyes.

“The Lion King? How can a lion be a king?” You say looking back at the older woman, “Just watch the movie.” She says and you return your attention to what’s on screen.

You ended up moving up onto the couch around the midpoint, the food filling you up, and when Maria said that you were allowed to have more servings you declined so full from that. You weren’t sure how you got so invested in the film, feeling a deep sadness and shock when Mufasa died. To be invested in the characters Timon and Pumba a crack of a smile listening to their jokes. By the time the credits came it wasn’t shocking from the full meal, the film, and just the exhaustion from the day's events you drifted asleep your cheek pressed against the arm of the couch your arms acting as a pillow.

Maria got to work quietly cleaning taking your plates to the kitchen and started to pack up the remaining food leaving leftovers for them but having some to give to Joel and Ellie. With the leftovers in hand, she glances at you still asleep on the couch the dim glow of the TV shines on your features before she quietly exits her home to fetch her husband and child.

Joel wasn’t sure what to say or do when you returned. Given Ellie’s outburst that quietly turned to guilt once you fled his brother’s home, they went out looking for you. Looking back at their home, then the stables all the while comforting the young girl who was filled with guilt for the harsh words she had spat. When Ellie suggested a location the young introduced the older one to they ran into Tommy with Liam who reassured them that Maria had you and they were talking things out and to return to their home.

Joel wasn’t expecting Tommy and his nephew to appear at his door with what looked like the meal they were meant to eat. Still, he questioned where you were but Tommy reassured him that Maria was providing her dinner and it would be better to make it a gradual approach involving you in these things. He could understand that, you kept to yourself eating meals alone in your room or at the stables when someone would bring you something, you came and went with little to no warning. Sometimes late a night he had to really strain his already bad hearing for the front door to quietly creak open and even quieter footsteps travel around the first floor before retreating to your room. So the four of them ate the meal Maria prepared in Joel’s dining room. Ellie hoped to apologize to you but for the time being, was able to distract herself with Tommy’s son. Now that it was truly dark and a meal would be over when another knock came at the door and it was Maria with leftovers he couldn’t help but feel slightly frustrated.

“She fell asleep after dinner. Tuckered out from the day.” Maria says while trading the leftovers to Ellie for her son. Joel nods his fingers holding the loops of his belt, “Well myself or Ellie will come over in the morning to collect her.” When he said that he saw the look Tommy and Maria gave each other clearly he was out of the loop with something.

“What is it?” A hint of concern in his tone. “Joel..” Tommy starts not sure the best words as Maria takes Tommy’s hand giving it a reassuring squeeze, “We’d think it might be better if the kid stays with us.”

Joel wasn’t sure how to take that news. Did you ask to stay with them given the events of today? Was it something he did before? “I’m sorry what?” The words didn’t seem to register.

“We just think it might be good for her to be in a more family-oriented environment,” Tommy says and Joel sends him a questioning look, “The hell does family-oriented mean?”

“Joel come on, she stays practically locked up in her room and if not she’s at the stables until she has no choice but to come back. Ellie talks and tries to spend time with her but seriously Joel do you know one thing about her? You both are busy anyways with Ellie in school and you with your patrols she’s left with nothing to do.” Tommy says and Joel feels like this is an attack on his skill of taking care of a child. His hand rests on the broken watch around his wrist. He raises Sarah all by himself with the help of Tommy but it is just him and his babygirl. Then there was Ellie he would say he is raising her well for an ambitious spitfire of a kid. Tommy’s words hurt him and the image he had of being a good parental figure but it shined a light. He saw Ellie as his daughter his kid to protect and care for but in the beginning, you were some brat shoved in his hands as his responsibility now but he couldn’t explain this need to watch over you. Though he did it while keeping a 15-foot pole separating you both.

“You said you couldn’t do it cause of Liam why the sudden change?” Joel wanted to find an excuse just the tiniest one so he could claim he was the better fit but he had no clue why he wished this. The old him would be rejoicing and letting them take you off his hands.

“That’s because we didn’t know her. All of us needed to learn to trust her and we do. She’ll be around at least one of us when with Liam and this might be the first step and getting her out of her shell,” Maria says “She’s been through a lot Joel and she’s only now wants to talk about it. She needs normalcy in her life. I don’t mean this in a wrong way but you and Ellie still live and act like you’re out there fighting to survive.” Now that riled up the older Miller. Sure he kept to himself spoke when only necessary to do his job then returned home to do it all over again but things were different now. Ellie and him had things that they never had out there and being here was their fresh start from everything that has happened to them.

“Tommy.” Joel looked at his brother hoping he would try to defuse the situation and maybe reconsider but he didn’t. “Did you even ask her? Do you really know her well enough to know what’s best for her?” He sounded spiteful a bite to his words.

“Stop it,” Tommy’s voice curt to his brother and his wife, “We just came here to tell you she’s going to be staying with us. Not fight over who knows her better. If she wishes to return to stay with you she’s more than welcome to.” It’s quiet between the three adults before Liam begins fusing and it’s too late for the baby to be out.

“Look you’re welcome to see her. We’re not keeping her away from you Joel but if you really think she’s better off with you. Put some goddamn effort in getting to know her instead of treating her like some stranger.” Tommy says before delivering his brother a pat on his shoulder that was meant to be comforting but only felt like a mockery. The family retreats back to their home as Joel closes the door a weight in his stomach as he stares at the woodgrain on the door.

“Joel?” Ellie’s voice makes him turn from where he stands to find Ellie standing in the living room. He was sure she heard their conversation but didn’t but in. “Is she not staying with us anymore?” Sadness laced her features and it only added more guilty weight to his gut. This wasn’t something he could give some hopeful response that things would be better but he truly didn’t know. You’re decision would be up to you and it may be his fault for not putting in an effort.

“I don’t know kiddo…I don’t know.”

Where the Wild Things Are Tags

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[trivia-yandere]

fuck it, a look into part 2 to drugdealer! yoongi's "dilemma"

coming oct.14

“Each time I see you, you get something more bold.” the nail tech speaks as she carefully adds the clear coat onto your nails. “You always keep me on my toes. I never know what to expect.”

You giggle a bit with a curt nod to your head. “Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t me choosing these designs?”

Yoongi had been the one to tell you all he wished for you to get - and you never went against it. He was the one paying for it. You recall one of the many times you and he were hanging out. He would always insist that you didn’t have to buy whenever you wanted weed, a perk that you didn’t wish to take advantage of. 

Yoongi understood that you were stubborn at times and instead decided that you two can smoke together and it wouldn’t be considered “free” if he was smoking it with you - as if you didn’t know he “accidentally” left some behind for you whenever he left.

That, and it always ended with you and Yoongi fucking. You blamed it on you being high but you and him both understood that even sober would you be willing to fuck him. 

After a smoke session that soon lead to a fuck session, Yoongi had mentioned how your nails would look nice a light blue color and had offered to pay for it, no matter the cost. Him handing you $200 wasn’t what you expected - his excuse was he didn’t know how much nails cost.

Typical Yoongi response.

“Boyfriend?” she asks, eyes glancing up at you. “You always get designs and add bling.”

You lick your lip, unsure of how to respond.

Yoongi wasn’t your boyfriend - he never asked you. 

Sure you and he would often spend time together when you weren’t working and he wasn’t…doing whatever it was that he did. He never truly did tell you what he sells besides weed, but did you truly wish to know? Just like he said before - ignorance is bliss.

Yoongi and you would go places that could be considered dates - says your friends - and apparently acted like a couple. He would buy you things randomly, items he thought you’d enjoy and of course he does pay for your nails simply because he likes the way they look on you.

“Something like that.” was your response, unsure of what you were truly expected to respond with. 

There’s a ringing noise indicating that there’s a door opening. You raise your brow in confusion as it was already dark outside and the salon is closed and has been for over an hour now. You typically choose the later appointments at times and Yoongi would pick you up.  

“Ah, is this the boyfriend?”

Your head whips around to see Yoongi in the flesh. He steps closer, sauntering towards you with such a cool and nonchalant swag about him. Your heart jolts at just the sight of him, dressed casually; dark grassy colored shirt with light-washed gray jeans and his infamous Nikes that he wore that he had in nearly every color. 

Yoongi always wore jewelry, his wrist holding expensive gold bracelets and watches. His ears typically held little silver or gold hoops or the occasional diamond earrings. Witnessing him wearing a diamond studded chain around his neck, matched with another looser one that slightly sways as he walks. 

“Yoongi.” you say as he reaches you, your body warms at his sudden appearance. “I…I should be done soon. Were you waiting long?”

“Just stopping by. Have to make a quick stop before we go out to eat.” Yoongi shakes his head, dark eyes glancing down to your nails. “I like your nails. They’re nice.”

You couldn’t help but smile, looking at your nails with the design Yoongi picked out - full of different shining gems that he insisted you get, again, no matter the cost.

Yoongi goes through his pocket and grabs his wallet. He turns his eye to the nail tech who’s already watching in curiosity. Sometimes, not all, does Yoongi wear rings. They could be subtle, simple silver rings. Today, however, was not a subtle day. His index, middle, ring and pink display diamond-studded rings that say “SUGA”, and all you can do was snicker.

“Hopefully this is enough.” Yoongi says, handing her a wad of cash. You want to scoff at the insane amount of money he was handing her. “This is too much-” the nail tech widens her eyes a bit, looking between you and Yoongi. “It’s-”

“Fine.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. “It’s fine. You can pocket the rest.” he assures, turning feline-like eyes to you. “You always do an amazing job.”

[arcanarix]

Fated Divergence, Ch. 3 // Yandere! Suguru Geto X Non-Sorcerer Darling

AO3 (+ prev. chapter)

When Satoru examined the parking deck, he sensed a surge of overactivity from low grade curses. Many which he could exorcise himself in practically nanoseconds. He recognized a few—and he knew that Geto had visited here, after all.

Hospitals were already a breeding ground for curses, but there had to be some other trick of Geto’s sleeve. There needn’t any reason to add more chaos here.

When he saw him with you, he wondered what Suguru could want, because on the surface, you didn’t seem like anyone who stood out.

Until he met you the other day, of course, because even he couldn’t deny, he sensed some kind of power dormant within you. Not cursed energy, or anything of the sort… in fact he didn’t have a word for it. The power coming from you felt like a purity, something untouched, untainted even from the horrors you must face as a nurse here and in general as a human being. Perhaps Geto sensed that as well, because above all nothing got the guy’s dick harder than a powerful tool.

Somehow he doubted Geto wanted you for a tool, though; it didn’t seem so.

Maybe not in the traditional sense.

“What’s your game, Suguru?” he mused out loud as he exorcised a demon just before him, one that Geto unleashed himself. He paused, glancing over at a car that he recognized had severe damage to the rear-end of it. Tilting his head, he inched closer.

That didn’t look like damage from a typical accident…  upon further inspection, the bumper had some indentations, like something bit it.

…and then he noticed a cursed spirit attached to the roof of the car, inside.

Grumbling, he managed to absorb that one as well.

“Gojo?”

He turned on his heel, and found you, with a dumbfounded expression on your face.

“Uh, yeah, we still don’t know who did that.” You gestured to the damage to your car. “I’m taking it to the shop tomorrow to get it repaired.”

So, it was your car then.

“Ah. Sorry, I guess I let curiosity get the better of me,” Satoru replied, adjusting his blindfold. “You already done for the day?”

You shook your head. “Nah, I’m just on break.”

Satoru grinned, resting his hand against your car like he owned it. “Oh, yeah? So, what do you do on break? Surely not to chat it up with beautiful men like me?”

Oh, he hoped you bought into the act. He knew how to play it cool when necessary.  

You eyed him with a hint of confusion before glancing down at what you held in your hands.

“Hide in my car from people and eat my lunch…”

He glanced at your bento box, and then back at the car, and then back at you, who looked drained as hell from a tough shift that wasn’t even over yet for you. His face fell.

He could take a hint!

Sort of…

“Oh, well then pardon me for intruding on your alone time. I was just exploring.”

“Right,” you remarked, your tone incredulous while taking out a slip of paper and scribbling something down. “If you wanted my number, you could just ask instead of doing all of this extra shit.”

He stared for a moment, a little befuddled. Did he expect more resistance? Maybe a tad.

Well, he did need your number, but not for the reasons you were possibly thinking.

Even if you were beautiful. He knew better than to do anything. Even now, he wasn’t about to meddle in his ex best friend’s love life.

Not unless he had to save you from a gruesome fate—being in Suguru’s radar was already a prescription (heh, he couldn’t help it) for disaster.

He felt a certain responsibility toward you, just like he still felt a responsibility for Suguru. Suguru wasn’t himself anymore by a longshot—even what he preached now didn’t align with what he believed in once before.

It was almost like putting young teenagers on the front lines to do an adult’s job was damaging to a young brain. Now Suguru became a shell of himself, a slave to the negative emotions he consumed from humans.

Realizing he was still staring at you, he adjusted himself. No need to make this situation more awkward for either you or him than it already became.

“Sorry,” he replied with a bashful smile, rubbing the back of his head as he accepted the slip with his free hand. “Well, that was easier than I thought it was going to be. You don’t seem like the type of lovely lady who impresses easy.”

You snorted. “You thought correct. I was half expecting you to reject me because you were taking so long to say something.”

“No! Of course not. Who could pass someone like you up?” He waved as he gave you some space. “Well, stay safe, alright?”

Stay safe? Seriously? He berated himself in his mind as he retreated, refraining from wanting to smash his head into something. Wouldn’t that just spike her anxiety up even more…?  

-- -- -- -- --

Peaceful sleep didn’t come to you that night.

You woke up in cold sweats, panting as you tried to remember you were safe then. Whatever you dreamed about, it couldn’t hurt you. But what you saw… it felt too real, yet you didn’t want to believe in this spiritual whoo-whoo shit. Not until you had enough evidence, because you weren’t about to fall for this shit.

Still…

It felt like numerous eyes from a monster glared back at you, and while you tried to sleep, it felt like hands roamed all over your body, exploring your most intimate parts.

Sleep paralysis? This didn’t feel like sleep paralysis at all.

But somehow you still didn’t believe in whatever horse shit Suguru Geto and the sort of people he attracted believed in.

You sighed, laying back in bed, pondering your options.

Then incessant buzzing of your phone had you jump in your spot.

At this hour? You glanced at the time on your lock screen. It’s 3AM…

Gojo: Hey. It’s Satoru Gojo. 😎

Oh, right. You’d given him his number. Maybe you were hoping for something to come out of this, but you doubted anything would. You idly wondered what he looked like without his blindfold on—he seemed full of it when it came to his appearance, so he better be able to back up those claims.

Smiling in spite of everything, you texted him back.

You: Hey, Gojo. Can’t sleep?

Gojo: eh, my bedtime’s not for another hour

You did a double take at the time.

You: you sleep at 4AM?

Gojo: and get up at 7 🫡

You: you in the military or something?

Gojo: in a way, but no

Gojo: hey listen, be careful around suguru

You quirked an eyebrow at that. Again with the cryptic bullshit? You had little patience for it but decided not to pry.

You: I don’t really trust the guy anyway?

Gojo: good. He’s more dangerous than you think, alright? If you need anything, call me

You: thanks, gojo

You eventually managed to get some sleep.

You decided you’d endure those nightmarish ghouls for now.

-- -- -- -- --

“Your patient died,” Mei announced as you entered the clinic the next day. The toll last night’s broken sleep took on you was evident—deeper set bags under your eyes, your face looked pale, like you’d just seen explicit horrors you couldn’t describe. Which wasn’t far off.

You glanced up at her, perking an eyebrow.

“Which one? I treat every patient on this floor,” you reminded her.

She froze, unsure of how to approach the matter, clearly.

“The young girl, Asuka Tanaka. The one who was supposed to be discharged today.”

Your eyes widened as the realization dawned on you, and you wanted to deny it.

“She was perfectly healthy!” you reasoned, and you tried to shake off the emotion from your tone, but you couldn’t. Why that little girl and not any of your patients on the verge of dying, anyway? That would have been at least easier news to break to their families, but how would their parents react to their perfectly healthy daughter dying when she was suppsoed to go home?

“We know,” she sighed. “We don’t understand what happened. One of our other nurses found her… and it was…”

“What happened to her?” you demanded.

“We don’t understand. Not fully,” she replied, tone steady and careful. “But it looked like someone came to…”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, unable to listen or even make out what Mei was telling you, but you knew better than to get too emotional in the workplace. You had no choice. You always delivered this type of news to patients and patients’ familiies every damn day, but why did this feel so sudden to you?

“Do her parents already know?” you found yourself asking, as your lower liip quivered. That poor girl was barely 6 years old.

“Yes, they came in this morning to pick her up…”

“Oh God,” you sighed, trying to steel yourself from these emotions. You had a shift to finish first before you could fully process what happened. This was just part of it all, unfortunately.

“We’ll have dinner soon this week, yeah? On me.”

You smiled, having turned off your emotions for now. Came with the profession. “Sounds good. Thanks.”

“So wait,” Mei began, and you paused, becknoning her to continue. “Who was that guy you spoke to the other day?”

“Still so invested in my love life? At a time like this?”

Mei couldn’t help but sigh.

“Listen! Mine is nonexistent so I’m living vicariously through yours. Forgive the abrupt change of topic, but I just wanted to know, and perhaps it’ll serve as a distraction for you too.”

You pursed your lips. Typical Mei, all about the gossip.

“He was just asking me about Crazy Cult Man.”

“Is he a wanted man, or something? Well… in some cases, that’s true,” Mei hummed, “Lots of people joined that cult just because he’s hot.”

You shrugged. “Like Hell if I know. That guy just kept warning me away from him, but it’s not like I’m interested.”

“Damn, if you’re not, do you mind sharing with me?”

You groaned at her antics, rubbing your temples. Way too early for this shit!

“Mei!”

“Can you blame a girl for trying?” she pouted those pretty red lips of hers. If Mei had a little more confidence, she could get any guy she ever wanted.  

“You’re impossible.”

She shrugged. “You love me anyway.”

“Alright, you doofus. I’ll see you later.”

You had to put on your big girl pants and finish the rest of this goddamn shift. You had some new patients come in from last night, something about a lot of vomitting and nausea and a whole other plethora of symptoms that didn’t point to anything untreatable, at the very least.

What you didn’t expect to find as some new patients was two twin girls sharing a room, having fallen ill. Those two girls whose caretaker happened to be—

“—Suguru? What a…surprise to see you here.” No, you weren’t all that surprised. But you were surprised to find that he really did take care of twin girls, and it wasn’t just an act.

“Ah, I didn’t think I’d run into you again so soon,” Suguru replied. “It seems that my girls got some food poisoning from that bakery, so we had to take them here.”

Those two girls didn’t look too pleased to be here from their expressions. They looked fearful, but you figured that was expected. Nobody liked being in the hospital, even for something as typical as food poisoning. That and they still seemed young, teenagers at most, and everything about the hospital seemed scary.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you replied, surprised that you could keep an even tone. “The doctor will be here soon, but judging by the severity of the food poisoning, it looks like your girls are going to be here for a few days.”

The twin with the brown hair glanced at Suguru. “That bites…”

“I told you not to eat too many of those Danishes,” he chastisted like a stressed out father would. You would smile at the scene if you didn’t know what sort of person Suguru was. Which you only had an idea, but that was enough to go off of for you.

“They were too good to pass up, Geto!” The other twin, who had blonde hair, replied.

“We’re sorry, Geto,” the blonde twin added.

“It’s alright, Nanako. I just hope you’ve learned your lesson this time around. We can’t keep losing money to things like this.”

Hospital bills definitely aren’t a joke, you mused to yourself. Even for someone as rich as Geto.

“So you already know this person, Geto?”

“Yes, Mimiko. She’s also fond of those Dansihes you both like so much.” It sounded like he was trying to sell them on the idea of you. Suguru glanced at you while he was speaking to his twins, and you felt something churn in your stomach. You swore you wanted to vomit yourself right then; something about his presence overwhelmed you, overstimulated you in the worst way.

He frowned, sensing your discomfort. With an all knowing glint in his eyes, he spoke up.

“Having nightmares lately, my dear?”

You froze.

“How did…?” you trailed off, feearing the answer.

“You look exhausted fighting it off,” he explained. He observed what was around you, the same way Gojo did when you met him. So there were things going on around you? You didn’t believe in this stuff, but if it was going to help you…

“You felt like numerous eyes were looking upon you. You woke up in cold sweats. Do you want me to help?”

You stared blankly at him. “Are you saying you can do something about this?”

“I can put it all to rest. Just leave it to me.” He glanced at the twins. “Watch closely, my loves.”

Within seconds, you felt your exhaustion vanish into thin air as he acted as though he absorbed something from you.

“Let me know if you sleep better tonight.”

You didn’t know how to react.

 “Alright. Well, let’s focus on your twins’ recovery.”

You glanced out the door to find the doctor down the hall.

“She’s almost here,” you continued. “I’ll step out for her.”

“I must get going, my loves,” Suguru announced, planting a kiss to the crowns of both of their heads. “Be nice to those treating you. Should everything go well, you’ll be back home by tomorrow at the earliest.”

He followed you out the door as the doctor stepped into that room.

You turned around. “Yes?”

“I’d very much enjoy if you stopped by the temple sometime. The girls are eager to get to know you. I saw it on their faces.”

“Th-that’s very kind of you to offer, Suguru, but—!”

He raised a hand to stop you, and you knew better than to test his patience.

“I insist, darling. I’d love for you to come after the girls feel all better from your clinic’s top-notch treatment. Them getting sick felt like the perfect opportunity to take them here even if I could treat them at home.”

“I don’t recommend that at all. If it was a mild case of food poisoning, then perhaps, but—!”

“—I believe you’re just the nurse here, darling. We’ll see what the doctor orders.”

No man alive was ever allowed to talk to you like that. You swore you felt a nerve snap, but you refrained from showing too much emotion. You doubted you could do much to deter or intimdate him, anyway.

“Might I have your phone for a moment?”

You knew better than to reject him. You offered your phone with a new contact page open for him to enter.

“Thank you, my dear. I sent a text to myself so I got yours as well.” He flashed his own phone.

Fantastic… you thought, biting back a sigh.

“We'll see you tomorrow, then."

“Very well. Until tomorrow, darling.

-- -- -- -- --

The night fell silent. You relaxed in your bed, focusing on your breath work. It was part of a therapy exercise you learned some time ago, something to help calm your nerves and help you sleep.

Something you so desperately needed.

Unfortunately, your quiet time was interrupted by your text message notification.

Groaning, you swiped your phone from the nightstand and saw who it was from.

Gojo: hey, just checking in

You: hey. I could be better for sure

Gojo: what’s up?

You: we lost a young patient today. No more than 6 years old.

Gojo: god, that’s terrible. What happened?

You: no one really knows, honestly.

Gojo began to call. You answered with a defeated sigh.

“Hey. Figured hearing a voice would be better than measly text,” he greeted over the line.

You giggled, your voice dripping in sarcasm. “My hero.”

“Feel free to call me that all you want!”

You giggled again. He was actually kind of funny.

“Are you going to be okay?” His tone seemed genuinely concerned.

“I will be. I’m just so sad for her.”

“You never get used to it, huh? The loss.”

“Not at all,” you replied. “Doesn’t matter what anyone says about professions like these.”

“I can definitely understand. Hey, like I said, I’m a call away.”

“Hey, wait, Gojo…” You bit your lip. Should you say anything at all?

“What’s up?”

“Geto came by the hospital today too.”

A pause. A long, uncomfortable pause. That same churning feeling in your stomach returned. Weren’t you supposed to say something?

“He did?”

“Yeah, his twins got sick with food poisoning,” you explained. “They’re still there.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

Should you keep going?

“He… he kept inviting me to his temple.”

“Don’t go,” he replied a little too quickly. You paused this time. Of course not. Why the hell would you ever want to go there?  

“I know,” you assured him, sighing. “But… if he really is as dangerous as you say, what if he tries something?”

“I’m here,” he told you, tone gentle and confident—like he appeared to be. “Don’t worry.”

“You’re laying it on real thick, Gojo,” you found yourself saying while chuckling.

“Hey, I’m just happy to help those in need.”

You couldn’t help the smile on your face.

“Thanks for checking on me, Gojo. But enough about me. How are you?”

You spoke on the phone for a bit, before Gojo had to hang up—something urgent with his job came up, he mentioned, and that he would check up on you later in the week. You fell back in your bed, staring up at the ceiling. He seemed like a genuine guy, but you doubted anything would escalate.

That night, in spite of the terrible day, you slept like a baby. Completely out like a light. No nightmares, no eyes, no creatures, no cold sweats… nothing. It still didn’t mean you believed in any of this; perhaps it was just coincidence. Nothing beyond that.

You weren’t going to seek Geto’s help for anything.

You knew much, much better than that.

-- -- -- --

“Hello, Nanako, Mimiko,” you greeted the next day when it was time to check their vitals.

“Hello,” Mimiko responded in a robotic tone.

“Are we set to go home yet?” Nanako asked, “Hospital stays are so boring!”

You chuckled, “We’ll see if the doctor says you’re ready to go.”

“Awwww,” Nanako huffed.

“You’re so dramatic, Nanako,” Mimiko quipped, “Geto influences you too much with those theatrics of his.”

“Speaking of, did he come to see you today?”

“He’s on his way,” Mimiko responded with a nod. “Geto looks like he really likes you, ma’am.”

“If Geto likes you then we have to like you,” Nanako piped in with an animated expression. “He has great judge of character.”

“Does he now?” you inquired, but you didn’t expect anyone to answer that—mostly talking to yourself.

“Ah! Hello, my loves,” Suguru waltzed in with some bouquets of flowers. “I have bought these for my girls, and a bouquet for you, my love. You seemed like the daisy type?”

Of course he was right about that.

You accepted the bouquet graciously, never mind the tightness you felt in your chest. “That’s kind of you, Suguru.”

You were definitely planning on tossing those straight in the trash.

You set them aside.

“Have you considered my offer, my dear?” Suguru asked, and you froze. You weren’t looking forward to answering this because you weren’t sure how he would handle rejection. You had to do this… smoothly.

As delicately as possible, like you were handling some fine China.

“I’m afraid there’s no room in my schedule right now to visit any time soon.”

“Ah, that is a shame,” Suguru replied with a click of his tongue. “We’ll work things out, I’m sure. The girls are eager to know you more after you treated them. Isn’t that right, my loves?”

The two twins nodded.

“She’s nice,” Mimiko stated. Suguru petted her head.

“Indeed.”

Using his twins as leverage over you? Oh, that was just diabolical.

Once you took the twin’s vitals, you stepped out of their room with your new bouquet in hand, taking it to your office to dump it into the trash. Your heart pounded out of your chest. At the very least, it didn’t seem likely that Suguru would cause any havoc in this setting. But now he had other means to torment you, and he hadn’t tried just yet.

You feared for the worst—and a part of you feared for your life.

[punkeccentricenigma]

Hey, could I request headcanons about the boys' reactions to Reader giving them a Candy Ring?

Reader gives Rise!boys a Candy Ring

Relationship status: Platonic

Reader prounouns: They/Them

TW: Short, Some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.

Author's note: My first request, yay! I hope you'll like it. Honestly, I don't recall them selling such candy rings in my country, at least when I was a little shit-kid. But in elementary school, I used to buy something similar, but it was more like pacifiers for children than rings. It was awesome and cheap.

Leonardo

◇It's probably clear that you deliberately chose the blue candy ring for him. He adores that color so much that you're not even sure if he can wear anything in a different color.

◇Knowing his playful nature, before giving him the candy, you knelt dramatically in front of him when you were playing a random game you found at the nearby dump.

◇"Hm? I knew you had a thing for me, but to propose right away? I feel honored." Typical smirk ™

◇He joyfully accepted the gift, and as you might expect, he started sucking on it. By the way, you didn't hold back on immature jokes, lmao.

◇But that's not all; the next day, Leonardo bought you three candy rings in your favorite colors.

◇He felt a bit awkward receiving gifts without giving something in return.

Raphael

◇Today, you were in a great mood, so without holding back, you went to visit your turtle friends to spend time with them and share the sweets you recently bought.

◇Since Raph was currently in the main area of the Lair, skateboarding around, you gave him the candy ring first.

◇"Uh, thanks?" He responded uncertainly, taking the red crystal from you. The ring was definitely too small for his mutated fingers.

◇A look of embarrassment crossed your face. Did you do something wrong? Or maybe the eldest of the brothers didn't feel like seeing you today? Apparently, your concern was more noticeable than you thought because Raph continued to speak.

◇"I really appreciate it, [Y.N]! But, you know, I'm not a kid anymore, you don't have to buy me stuff like this, hah."

◇Oh, that's what it was about! "I know, Raph, but I just wanted to show how much I care about you guys."

◇Those words triggered a warm feeling deep inside him and brought a smile to his face.

Donatello

◇"Oh, Donnie~! One of your favorite people is here!"

"Damn, please no."

◇Did you have to enter Donnie's lab in such a way? No. But did you want to be as annoying as possible for your own amusement? Absolutely!

◇"I have something for you!" And you placed a purple candy ring wrapped in foil on his desk.

◇The only response you got was a skeptical look and the words, "What do you want in return?"

◇Your brave smile faded, and your mind started overthinking. Maybe you should have just walked in normally instead of acting like Leo?

◇"Um, nothing. I don't want anything in return."

◇Oh boy, it was really an awkward situation.

◇ "I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me as a close friend." His stern gaze didn't help maintain eye contact. "Are you mad at me? I can bring something else if you want!"

◇He blinked a few times, leaning back slightly in his chair; it looked like his mind went through some sort of reset.

◇His eyes also softened but were somewhat embarrassed.

◇"No, I'm not, sorry." He began, focusing on the candy as he took it into his hand. "I've just had my mind swamped with new projects lately."

◇He felt a little embarrassed, so he unwrapped the candy ring without hesitation and started eating it.

◇His posture immediately sharpened, and his face brightened. Obviously, he enjoyed it.

Michelangelo

◇There's not much to say here, to be honest.

◇As perhaps not the only one, he reacted with joy to the free candy.

◇"I can't believe it, it's my favorite! How did you know?"

◇The orange color says it all, lmao.

◇He'll definitely convince you to buy many more of these goodies (of course, he'll chip in too, he doesn't like using his friends like that), and you'll have them on just to pretend to be "rich people."



[andromedasummer]

ik I'll just google them but WHITE KIWI EXISTS?? there is a white version of that funny birb???

theyre not a SPECIES per say. so, there are five whole officially recognised kind of kiwi!!!

North Island Brown Kiwi:

Tokoeka (Southern Brown Kiwi)

Rowi (Ōkarito Brown Kiwi, the rarest!)

Little Spotted Kiwi

And the Great Spotted Kiwi (Roroa!)

(info on them here)

and then, there's Manukura

First of three white kiwi born in the same wildlife park. She's a North Island Brown Kiwi and her parents both had recessive albinism genes. The conservation and breeding staff had no indication that anything with their genes was different and fully expected a typical north brown kiwi from her egg until she hatched in 2011 and gave everyone a MASSIVE shock. They ended up having two more white kiwi after her (including Mapuna, her little brother!)

"Manukura was born in the Pukaha / Mount Bruce National Wildlife Centre. The bird was born in May 2011 with a rare genetic condition that made it all white, instead of brown

She was named by Rangitāne leader, Mike Kawana; her name is the Māori word for 'chiefly status'." (Wikipedia)

People thought she was a boy at first! Then when she was 1 they realized their mistake. She was beating up male kiwi.

Manakura died in 2020 after having surgery. she stopped eating for a month because she was unable to pass an unfertilized egg and they tried to remove it and then had to remove parts of her ovaries. She's very sorely missed, there were storybooks about her. I believe the other white kiwi live on, which is wonderful.

There are some white Kiwi in the wild! But most Kiwi that dont live in protected parks (where they're bred to increase population) are killed by stoats or rats. It's like a solid 90% of them that pass unfortunately. It's part of the reason Predator Free 2050 is in motion (removal of all introduced vermin harming our native birds and trees. This includes possums, ferrets, stoats and rats which are responsible for 25% of extinct flora and fauna species here in NZ since arriving on boats when colonization began)

Here is another white kiwi dancing in front of one of the many predator monitoring cameras within the sanctuary it lives in.

And if you're asking "Wow, Liv, you know a lot about native birds in NZ" the answer to why that is, is my dad worked for DOC until my mid twenties and as a small autistic child it made conservation efforts the center of my world. So naturally that meant details about Kiwi, Kakapo, Kaka, Huia, Moa etc were locked away in the "INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT PRIMARY INFORMATION" part of my brain along with how to tell a male and female mallard apart, what to do in an earthquake and how to notice and prevent hypothermia and survive until finding help in deep bushland

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello ! how are you author-nim?? Can u do yandere emperor with dancer reader who is in reality a princess of another kingdom who ran away from her kingdom bcuz she didn't wanted to marry the old noble man who her parents choose for her for political support.......thank u!!💕❤

I'm doing well, Thanks for asking

🖤🖤🖤🖤

You let out a shaky breath as you bowed, adrenaline still dancing along your nerves despite your performance ending. And as usual the first to clap with others following in rapid succession was your employer and savior the Grand Emperor. Proud and powerful Emperor Roy was always a grand supporter of the arts. As such it wasn’t bizarre for him to have a dancer like yourself. The only thing was his specificity. Too many times had the head caretakers tried to replace you for another or even employing another. 

“What is this filth?! Where’s my dancer?!” 

Even when his highest advisor demonstrated concern, he refuted them all. You were Emperor Roy’s dancer and that was all you wanted to be. Other than sheer terror for the man you worked for you had come to greatly appreciate him for many a time had he made this the profession you loved so dearly. In your earlier days his growing favor over you left you entirely exhausted performing more than seven times a day with different choreographies each. It baffles you to this day how quickly he picked up on your fatigue, immediately summoning those he deemed responsible: your choreographer, the head maid, and your senior dancer–who at this point was practically doing nothing. The choreographer and head maid condemned you for not being ‘strong enough’ but your senior dancer, a woman who was enslaved by the last emperor stuck up for you. 

“She’s exhausted because you keep calling her, your emperorness! She’s got no time to sleep or eat, not with all the dances she’s gotta learn!” 

Despite the court’s visible disgust with her dialect and honesty the Emperor was amused. He fired the choreographer and made your senior your prime caretaker and fellow choreographer. From then on any conflicts were easily solved at simply a look the Emperor got what he wanted. 

You tried pinpointing what had him so interested. Perhaps it was lust seeing as his mistress used to sneer everytime he beckoned you. But when a companion of his openly questioned him, he denied it. Someone of his stature shouldn’t have any trouble doing so.

“No this is nothing like shallow admiration…but I wouldn’t expect a bed-hopper like you to understand.”

You’d never spoken to him. Here, you were beneath him and it’d be an insult to.  He’d spoken to you plenty though. For he was as guilty of demanding private performances as he did public ones. They were typically no different except he’d sometimes pull at your veil–a commonality for someone of your position. He’d talk cryptically speaking of fairytales–typically ones about romances with dark aspects. Your senior suggested it may have been code but for both of your safety you kept your mouths shut. 

Other than that it was perfect. 

Perfect until they came.

“O Great Emperor I beseech you! My sister Princess of my future kingdom has run away and I strongly believe that it is your territory that she hides herself in!” 

You were shrunk into the pillar you were previously waiting behind for your cue. But at the sound of familiar ironclad soldiers with that voice you immediately felt your heart drop to your stomach. In terms of decorum your sister’s entrance seemed to disrupt the court distracting them from your absence but the Emperor was not nearly so gullible. Shooting a look at your senior who swiftly made her way over to you with a worried look on her face.

“What’sa matter suga?”

“I-uh-I don’t th-think I can uh perform. I just don’t-”

“Hey hey it's okay. Guess this haught taughty got you all jazzed up. Don’t worry about it, you know he’ll understand. Now get in bed! Calm those nerves, ya hear?” 

You thank her dashing back to your room barely aware of the chaos you left in your wake. Not many knew what would happen if Emperor Roy did not have his dancer because there had never been a time where he didn’t. But the princess and the court would bear witness when your senior whispered into the monarch’s ear. 

“Your dancer got spooked by the surprise visit. They’re shaking som’thin’ fierce and may be out of commission for a while.”

His slightly peeved expression morphed into seething anger. Blind with rage he cast her out scolding her for her lack of manners for someone claiming to be a future queen. Removing her by force, the court was in disarray, some suggesting he organize a search party, others urging him to apologize and make her his bride. He ultimately ignored everyone, fuming as he completed his work for the day and secluded himself. Refusing to see anyone he was none the wiser to the actions of his mistress. 

Waiting until your senior was fast asleep she slipped into your quarters. With only a single candle to light the darkness of your windowless room she could see you shake and hear your wavering breath. You didn’t notice her until her shadow creeped behind you on the wood floors. 

“W-what do you want?”

You feared she would reach for your neck with those manicured hands and in your current state you’d be helpless to stop her. Instead she held you by your shoulders as she pushed you into the plush of her chest. Triggered once more you sobbed into her silk garments eased into shuddered breaths as she rubbed at your back. Letting her lips brush against your forehead she spoke softly, careful not to startle you further.

“Why are you so scared of the convoy?”

With stray tears you tell her about your identity as the extra princess, your father and mother finding no use for you other than to please some old noble with your hand in marriage. You gripped at her cloth as you voiced your frustration before crumbling into her arms as she rocked you.

“I-i’m not e-even the youngest! My oldest sister will become queen and my little brother isn’t even of age and they plan to let him marry for love! He’s hardly a teenager! Th-they just don’t b-bother to know me or e-even ask!? I just–”

“Shhhh.”

Soothing you through another bout of tears, you eventually calmed to let her speak. 

“You must tell him.”

“But I can-”

“You are of status so you can speak to him and he’d treat you well. Much better than any old noble.”

“B-but I don’t know-”

“You need to tell him. Or else…I will.”

“What?! No no…I will…I’ll try…maybe?”

“...”

“Fine, just give me time.”

She held you well into the night. Gently tucking you in as your breaths became stead and she could pry your fists from her silk sleeves. Shutting the door as quietly as she could, she turned to meet the skeptical eyes of your senior. Raising her head high she passed the glaring dancer as she once again entered the main halls. With steady steps she made her way to the Emperor’s chambers waving away the guards knocking twice before entering. Closing the door she kept her back facing the door as she bowed.

“I have news, your grace.”

_____________________________________________

“Wonderful performance as always! I’m pleased you could bring yourself to perform on my behalf.” 

You deeply bowed internally debating how you’d go about this. The emperor would usually begin his ramblings about now. You felt like a fish with how many times you opened and closed your mouth. Ultimately scolding yourself as the Emperor beckoned you closer to himself. Keeping your eyes away from him you felt him lift your veil. Not flinching at his cold hands wrapping around your chin and tilting your face side to side. 

“I thought I recognized that nose.”

Your eyes snapped open as his fingers lingered along your jaw. If now wasn’t a good time there’d never be one. 

“Uh y-your grace um-”

“You must be the runaway princess then?”

“Y-yes b-but please don’t turn me in I- don-no I can’t go back!”

“Oh? Why not?”

“They intend to marry me to a man thrice my age. I hardly know him anyhow.”

Finally releasing your chin he tapped a finger on his chin as he leaned back into the couch he was leaning on. 

“Then we have quite the dilemma on our hands then.”

“W-we do?”

“But of course! You want to avoid getting married to a slimy dinosaur and I-” He pulled you down to his level; making you lean on the couch so as not to fall on top of him.”-want to keep my favorite dancer.”

“Uhm if you’d like I can be a mistress of yours! I’d still dance for you!”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“No, no but maybe…as my wife?”

“Wife?! B-but didn’t you refuse all the other duchesses? That one empress?”

“I did. I seem to have been waiting for a perfect princess to fall into my lap. So what do you say? Be my one and only wife?”

“O-okay, uh yeah.”

[scorpionrising]

there is love that doesn't have a place to rest — ch. 3

pairing: finan x fem!oc word count: 3556 content warning: this fic deals explicitly with the trauma of sexual assault. while there are no drawn out, graphic scenes, it is made explicitly clear what is going on. for context: oc is uhtred's daughter and was captive in dunholm for all her childhood. proceed with caution. additionally, expect canon typical attitudes, behaviors, violence, etc.

read on ao3

“i wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery and i can wish that all i want, but it won't bring us together plus, i know whatever happens to me, i know it's for the better" –phoebe bridgers, waiting room

A week had passed since her father left at the behest of King Alfred, and Ravna spent each day with Osferth in the woods, allowing him to teach her all about the Christian religion. She was not sure she believed any of it— a pregnant virgin was just a bit too absurd for her— but they made for good stories. She thought of the Romans, and the Greeks before them. How many different gods had they believed in? How many gods before them had been worshiped? For this reason alone, Ravna could not count anything out. Or could she believe in anything at all? 

“Monk! I had a thought,” Ravna said, finding Osferth in the alehouse. 

He was sitting with Finan, but she chose to ignore the other man. Osferth’s brows shot up upon seeing her. She did not make a habit of entering the alehouse, often finding it too loud and the men too abrasive. Osferth put down his mug and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“You say your god is good, yes?”

“Uh, yes. He is all good, just as He is all powerful.” 

“If He is both, then how can He allow evil to exist?”  

This was what Ravna did not understand. She had long since accepted that her father’s gods, if they did exist, cared little for her. Her father’s gods never claimed to be all good. But Osferth’s god did. Osferth’s god positioned himself as a father who loved his children. If she was this all-good and all-powerful god’s child, she could not fathom why he allowed for her to be abused as she was. 

“He did not create evil,” Osferth said.

She scrunched her face at him. “But you said evil and sin comes from Eve eating the apple because Satan told her to, and Satan was created by God, was he not?” 

“But God also created free will. He does not control us, Ravna.” 

“If God created free will and bestowed it upon people with the option and opportunity for evil, then He created evil!” 

A few eyes were looking their way, certainly whispering about her outburst. Finan glanced around the alehouse and leaned across the table. 

“Hey, just take a breath now, ceann bheag.”

She rounded on him, eyes narrowed. What gave him the right to tell her to do anything? 

“I believe I was talking to Osferth, not you,” she hissed, relishing in the fact that he actually leaned back in shock from her ire being turned on him. Sniffing, she looked back at Osferth. “I do not find myself satisfied with your response. Think on it some more and find me in the morning with better answers.” 

Osferth cracked a smile, despite the uncomfortable tension between her and Finan.

“Are you hoping to convert, Lady?” Osferth asked teasingly.

“Maybe if I find you convincing enough,” Ravna responded in the same tone. She stuck her tongue out briefly and smacked the tabletop. “Right, then. I’m getting myself a drink.” 

Both men looked shocked, which she took some pride in. Still, it was rather annoying. But, if it took her sitting in the alehouse for hours on end and drinking until her vision blurred for them to see her as the grown woman she was, she would do it. She would show her father and Finan both. She had no need for a nursemaid. 

Coin purse in hand, she sidled up to the counter and held her chin high. Men were crowded all around her, but she refused to waver. She had something to prove. 

“Lady Ravna.” 

Ceolmund, the second son to the alehouse and tavern owners, stood behind the counter. His older brother, Alewulf, was somewhat of a warrior and had gone north with her father. 

“Hello,” she said. “I would… like a pitcher of ale, please.” 

Ceolmund’s smile was a bit crooked. “You drink with your father’s men, lady?”

She pursed her lips. “And what of it?”

“I am surprised,” he said. 

Then, he looked around and leaned in, beckoning her closer. Confused, Ravna complied. Ceolmund’s lips brushed along her ear and she bit back a gasp in surprise. 

“Tonight is the full moon, Lady. When the moon is at its peak, come to the mouth of the river so you need not drink with your father’s men.” 

She pulled back and arched an eyebrow. “What happens tonight?” 

He grinned ear to freckly ear. It would be a bitter lie to say she was not intrigued. 

“Us young people get to live,” he said. 

“Very well,” Ravna said. “I will join you.”

“Good!” He smacked the counter for good measure. “I’ll go get your ale now, Lady.” 

When she returned, she must have been grinning as well. Osferth’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead and he turned to Finan, who was staring at Ravna with his mouth agape. 

“What?” she asked. 

“What did he say to you?” Osferth asked. 

“Nothing,” Ravna said simply, pouring herself a mug of ale. 

“No, he said something!” 

She rolled her eyes. “Osferth, I am allowed to have friends other than you, no?” 

He deflated a bit and took a deep sip from his mug. Smirking to herself, Ravna poured some ale from her pitcher into his now empty cup. With a grin, he knocked his mug against hers and they took large gulps in tandem. Finan looked decidedly put out. Good, she thought, not feeling guilty in the least. 

The ale was strong, but she knew it would be. Her father encouraged Ceolmund’s father to brew it the way Danes did, as Saxon ale was often so weak. Ravna’s head was spinning a bit, but she found she did not mind it. She quite liked the feeling, actually. With Osferth’s aid, she drank the entire contents of the pitcher rather quickly. Delighting in the way the whole world around her seemed to tilt as she stood up, Ravna placed her palms on the table to steady herself as she giggled shrilly. 

“I… am going to…” She trailed off, losing the thought. “Oh! Yes, I will get more ale.” 

Finan grabbed the now empty pitcher and pulled it out of her reach. “Perhaps not, Lady.”

Annoyed but less angry than before— thanks to the ale, in all likelihood— Ravna turned on Finan. Feeling her lips curling into a grin, she snorted and lunged for the pitcher, but he was too quick for her and pulled it further away. 

“Finan,” she said shortly, rolling her eyes, “I am grown. I am no child, and you are no nursemaid.” 

He reared back as though she had struck him, and it granted her the opportunity to steal back the pitcher. Clutching it to her chest, she swiveled around to go back to the counter, but Ceolmund was already a few paces away. 

“Lady Ravna,” he greeted, walking to meet her where she stood. “I’m off now. Would you like me to accompany you on your way?” 

Blood rushed to her face, pooling in her cheeks. A bit carelessly, she tossed the pitcher aside and nodded. 

“That would do,” she said. 

He grinned quite charmingly and offered her his arm. 

“Oi!” Finan interrupted. “What’s this about?” 

“Ceolmund is accompanying me on my way so I do not need to walk alone in the dark,” Ravna said, cocking her head to the side. “Do you find that unacceptable, Finan?” 

Osferth was hiding a grin behind his hands and very pointedly looking away from Finan. Finan, however, seemed downright perplexed and his face was turning a bit red; dark eyes obscured by the scrunch of his eyebrows. When he did not respond, Ravna turned back to Ceolmund, victorious, and took his arm. 

“So, will you tell me now what it is that you’re bringing me to?” 

“Revelry,” Ceolmund said simply. 

And revelry indeed it was. With a large fire going and bodies milling about, Ravna thought back to the many festivities held over the years at Dunholm in honor of the gods. While these were Christians around her, they were not so different. 

“We drink mead instead of ale here,” Ceolmund said. “Beatrice makes it with the honey from her father’s bees.” 

Ravna nodded, amazed by the sight before her. In her years of living in Coccham, how had she been so vastly unaware of this happening every month? Since she mostly kept to herself, there were a great many people she realized she did not know as unfamiliar faces swam past her. Even Beatrice, who Ceolmund was still talking about, Ravna did not know. She felt bad for it, as clearly everyone knew who she was. 

“Lady Ravna!” 

Sybil, the blacksmith’s daughter, ran over with a wild grin on her face, a crown of flowers askew on her head. Of the people in the village, Sybil was perhaps one of the only people outside of Ravna’s family that she would consider a friend. Even then, she was unsure. 

“Sybil, I’ve said many times, you need not call me Lady,” Ravna said. She glanced at Ceolmund and bowed her head. “Nor do you, friend.” 

Sybil reached out and grabbed both of Ravna’s hands. “Well, Ravna, you must come join me for a dance!” 

Ravna did not even have the chance to respond before Sybil pulled her away from Ceolmund. Though there was no music, aside from three men who were hardly more than boys drunkenly singing, those who were dancing around the large bonfire seemed to have a tune in their minds. Giggling, Ravna twirled around Sybil as the two of them created their own tune. 

“I’m quite pleased you’re here!” Sybil said, swiping a mug from a young man’s hand and taking a deep sip. “You must join us more often.”

She offered out the mug and Ravna took it. The mead was delightful, far superior to any ale she ever had. It tasted of honey and fruit and spices; it tasted of the gods. 

“I would like that,” Ravna said, now used to the buzzing feeling the drink gave her. “It might be hard once my father returns.” 

“It is the same for the rest of us,” Sybil said. “Many of our fathers joined yours, and we do this with our freedom!” 

Sybil flung her arms out and spun around freely. It amazed Ravna. The looseness, the recklessness, the carelessness. It was all she ever wanted to be. She drank until she was stumbling over her own feet, but Ravna was unsure if she could say she ever had such fun. 

Ceolmund found her some time later, just as drunk as she was. 

“Lady!” he said, all too loudly. “Would you like to take a walk with me?” 

On the very far depths of the horizon, Ravna could see the beginnings of sunrise, lightening the dark sky above. 

“Perhaps you could walk me back to town,” she said. 

“Of course, Lady.”

She rolled her eyes. “Ceolmund, please, I wish for you to only call me Ravna.” 

They walked hand-in-hand, tripping over one another, their own feet, and tree roots alike. The village center was deserted entirely by the time they finally found their way back. For some reason unknown to her, Ravna was giggling loudly and constantly. Ceolmund did not seem to mind, however, and instead grinned at her with that crooked smile of his. She stopped to stare at him, and perhaps count the freckles on his face. There were a great many, and she was fascinated by them. 

“Ravna,” he whispered, “may I kiss you?” 

It was perhaps because no one had ever asked her that question before that she did say yes. Ceolmund was not the most experienced or skilled of kissers, but him asking her permission made it the best kiss of her life. She curled a hand around the back of his neck and clutched him close, letting her bodily knowledge take over. 

They stumbled back against a tree, his hands roaming all over her body and lips trailing down her neck. This, she thought, was what being young was for. She clutched his curls in hand while his fingers fumbled for the strings on her breeches. She giggled some more, but this time it came out as half a moan. 

“Ceolmund,” she whispered, tugging at the root of his hair. “We’re too exposed.” 

The mere fact that he paused and pulled away from her to look around almost made her want to drop to her knees and push all fears of being caught aside. But to do so, would be to act like a child. She wanted to be treated like the woman she was, so even in her drunken haze she knew she could not. Not right now, at least. 

“Yes.” He sighed, chest heaving. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Anyone could stumble upon us,” she reasoned. 

But, then, she kissed him again. She kissed him over and over and over again until the sky turned orange with sunrise. Drunkenness abating and replacing itself with a throbbing head, Ravna began to pull her hands from Ceolmund’s hair. 

“I should return home,” she mumbled against his lips. 

“That would be for the best,” he agreed, still kissing her. 

She dragged her teeth along his bottom lip and forced herself away. She did not look back at him as she walked home. If she did, it was likely her self restraint would fall apart, and she really needed to be home before Gisela awoke to tend to Stiorra, who always rose with the sun. 

Another week passed, and Ceolmund, who was not so interesting or smart as he seemed that night of the full moon, proved himself to be a kind young man who was undoubtedly fond of her and never tried to touch her more than she liked him to. (It was the kindest a man had ever treated her, so it surely meant something.) Unable to deny the fact that she liked it when he kissed her, even when she was not mind numbingly intoxicated, she found herself sneaking around to press her lips to his at any given opportunity— which naturally led to her pressed up against the back of the alehouse with his hands creeping up underneath her tunic. And that was when and how Finan found them. 

“Oi!” 

The brogue was undeniable, forcing them to separate at the sound of his voice alone. Lips wet and swollen, Ravna cursed quietly. Ceolmund looked as though he were about to shit his breeches. 

“What do ya’ think yer doing?” Finan barked, marching over to them and grabbing Ceolmund by the collar of his tunic.  

“Nothing,” Ceolmund said loudly. “We were doing nothing!”

“That’s your lord’s daughter, boy,” Finan said.

“Y-yes, I— I know.” 

Ravna groaned. She was well aware of her father’s orders to Finan to keep her safe and make sure she was well, but this was absurd. 

“Finan,” she said, wrenching his hand away from Ceolmund, “let him go!” 

When his fingers released the fabric, Ceolmund stumbled backwards and then began to run. She rolled her eyes and rounded on Finan. 

“What is wrong with you?” she screamed, flinging her hands into the air. “He was doing nothing wrong!”

“Oh, he was doing plenty wrong, lady,” Finan said. 

“How is what he was doing any different from what you do to the women in the tavern?” 

He stared at her in shock, but she was not finished. 

“And how is what I was doing any different from what those women do to you? I am a woman, Finan, not a girl! I know very well what that was. I am not stupid, nor am I the naive child everyone believes me to be!” 

Seething, she stomped in the opposite direction Ceolmund ran. She needed to be far away from everyone, Finan especially. How dare he embarrass her like that? Who did he think he was? Her hands shook in her anger, vision blurring at the edges. She was unsure whether she wanted to scream or sob more, so she would go into the woods and do both. She would beat her knuckles bloody on the tree bark if she desired. 

Her fury remained. She stood at the riverside, throwing rocks as far as she could to force it to leave her. A twig snapped behind her and then there was the telltale rustle of leaves. She gritted her teeth and let out a groaning shout as she threw another rock. She would not acknowledge him. She refused. He would have to come to her and force himself into her line of sight. 

“I apologize, ceann bheag. I should not have grabbed the boy like that.”

How she hated that nickname now. Less than a month ago, she found it sweet. Little one. Now, she knew what it meant. She was a small child, and always would be. Tears of anger and resentment flooded her eyes, stinging in the wind as she tried to hold them back. She sniffed and sat down on the embankment, knees pulled to her chest. She closed her eyes as she heard Finan move closer and sit down beside her. 

“You’ve barely spoken to me since your father left, ya’ know,” Finan said. 

Ravna pursed her lips. 

“And I don’ know why,” he continued. “Seems like ya’ will talk to anyone an’ everyone but me.” 

Anger getting the best of her, she snapped, “I heard you, you idiot!” 

Her cheeks were wet, the tears finally having spilled out. A deep crease appeared between Finan’s eyebrows.

“The day before my father left, I heard what you said to him,” Ravna elaborated. “And you were right, Finan. I do not take kindly to it.” She swiped at her face and sniffled loudly. “I do apologize for being such a burden when I was foolish enough to believe we were friends.” 

He swore in a low voice, more a grumble than words, and ran a hand over his beard. She watched him from the corner of her eye, wanting to turn to him but wanting to be steadfast more.

“Ravna,” he said quietly, softly. “Ya’ never should’ve heard that.” 

“And yet,” she muttered, a bitter and sour taste in her mouth. 

“I do not think ya’ to be a burden.” His voice was gentle and slow, as though he were trying to find his footing. 

“What do you think of me, then?” she asked, finally turning to look at him fully with blazing eyes. “Because I do not think you see a woman.”

“Well, I don’ see a man!” 

She rolled her eyes, curbing the urge to kick him. 

“You know quite well that is not what I meant!” 

She shot up and moved to stomp away, but got up just as fast and grabbed her arm to stop her from walking away. His hand had a tight grip on her, just above the crook of her elbow. 

“What ya’ need to understand is, on the ship all your father talked about was his little girl who had been taken from him.” 

She was not proud of the manner in which she gasped— both at his touch and the subject of the slave ship being raised. Neither he nor her father ever spoke of their time enslaved, and she could not blame them. How often did she discuss her time at Dunholm, after all? 

“And that’s what ya’ were when I met ya’!” 

“But I am no longer a child!” she exclaimed. 

“No,” he agreed solemnly. “Yer a woman, to be sure, and ya’ have been since the time ya’ stepped foot in Coccham.” 

“Then why do you all continue to treat me as one?” She glared up at him, furious. “You likened yourself to a nursemaid and begged my father to change his mind. If you are so unhappy here, I grant you leave to join my father. Go! If you wish it, go, and I will hold no anger in my heart.”

“Lady,” he said, “I would not do that.”

“Why? Because my father asked you to?”

“Because I care about ya’!”

She watched as his eyes crinkled at the corners and his hand not holding her arm lifted, perhaps of its own accord judging by the shock in his eyes, to take hold of her face. The calluses on his palms, made from years of training with swords and pulling oars, were rough against her cheek, but she was too preoccupied by her surprise at the sudden touch to care. 

“You’re not just Uhtred’s daughter. You’re far more than that.” 

His hand slipped past her cheek to cradle the back of her head, and then he pulled her into a tight hug. Sniffling once more, she tucked her face into his chest and slipped her arms around his torso. After a moment, she pulled her arms away and took a large step backwards with a burning face. She really ought not to have allowed herself to step so close. It was inappropriate. 

“I am glad you see me as I am,” she said quietly. 

Above their heads, a cloud shifted and sent a bright beam of light directly upon Finan’s head. It illuminated him in a brilliant shade of gold, and she needed to look away from how bright he was, lest she do or say something absurd.    

[ourtearsofrain]

The Barbarians (D.R.W/S.F.K) - Chapter 10

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Genre: angst, sibling fluff and hurt/comfort

Word Count: just under 5k

Warnings: AU typical events/threats/violence, killing/preparing rabbit to eat

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Take One Look at Your Skies

Sam

“Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Shh. Listen.” Sam pauses his movements, his eyes fixed on the ceiling of the cave as he focuses all his attention on the familiar sound he could swear he was hearing. “Oh shit- it’s the national anthem, they must be playing the fallen tribute projection. C’mon.” Not wanting to miss any tributes, Sam rushes from the cave out into the night, immediately searching the sky to try to spot The New World’s seal. He barely registers Hazel finding his side as the first tribute’s face lights up the darkness. Amaram. If Vanil didn’t know she was dead and still wanted to be allies, he definitely won’t now. Maybe we can play it off that we weren’t responsible for her death if he doesn’t know yet. He could still be useful. Dangerous, but useful.

After Amaram comes both tributes from 3, next the boys from 5 and 6, both district 8 tributes, then a boy from 9, and finally, both tributes from 11 and the boy from 12. The girl from 11 and boy from 12 were Daniel’s allies. Those were the kids trailing after him in training. He failed to protect them; I could use that against him to distract him if we fight.

The music cuts off as fast as it had begun, the sky going dark as Sam keeps his eyes locked on the heavens. I know that’s not actually the sky, it’s just a simulation, but I’m glad they gave us stars. I can pretend for just a moment that I’m back home, sneaking around after curfew to stargaze.

“We should try to find food, Samuel.”

Reluctantly, he rips his eyes away from the sky, hating that he knew she was right. “I know. Well, while we’re here, we might as well try to fish or something.”

“Yeah, and how do you expect to do that? We don’t have anything to fish with.”

“Use our resources, I’m sure we can find something we can make work.” Sam looks to the ground, his eyes raking over the seaweed and kelp washed ashore. “Here, this. Find me all the bullwhip kelp you can.” Bending, he immediately sets in on gathering as many of the slimy plants as he can, starting a small pile next to a mostly dry rock.

Hazel makes a face of pure disgust as she grudgingly picks one up, holding it an arm’s length away from her before she tosses it onto the pile quickly. “Why?”

“I can make a net with the blades.”

“Seriously? We have a bow and arrows, and you want to make a whole ass net?”

“Is there a problem?” Sam’s tone is clipped as he continues his search, beyond caring about what Hazel thought. He knew what to do to survive, her belief in him changed nothing.

“It’s a waste of time. You can have your fun playing with plants like we’re little kids bored at playtime, but I’m going to go actually get us something to eat.” She doesn’t wait for Sam’s response, only turning to retrieve the bow and arrows from where she had left them in the cave before she emerges again, wandering out onto small “peninsulas” of rock as she scans the water for fish.

She can do whatever she wants, don’t let it distract you. Ignoring her sounds of frustration growing louder by the second as she repeatedly shoots into the water and hits nothing, Sam finishes collecting the kelp and sits down on the rock beside his pile before beginning to sort through them. He takes up the first whole plant, keeping the blades attached to the rest of it as he untangles them, only to begin knotting them together. When he’s satisfied with the size of the holes between each blade, he grabs another full piece of kelp, this time ripping the blades off and discarding the rest of it before tying the loose blades to the base of the previous ones.

He repeats these motions, ripping the blades free and knotting them over and over, until he has a large net of kelp in his lap, big enough to cover a sizable amount of water. To finish the net off, he takes the last of the fully intact kelp stalks and rips all but one blade off each, ripping the plant just after the large bulb at the end of the blade; he ties the single blades to the bottom of the net, the bulbs acting as weights. He tests the makeshift net in his hand as he stands, making his way over to the shoreline about 20 feet away from Hazel, knowing she must have been scaring any of the fish away from the water surrounding her.

I just hope this works. If I spent that much time on it just to fail as badly as Hazel is with her bow, I’d never hear the end of it. He wrestles his boots and socks off, keeping the net in one hand before placing them away from the water on a dry rock. Rolling up the cuffs of his pants, he takes slow, careful steps into the water, trying to keep as much of the stem of the kelp strand acting as the “handle” out of the water. He stops when the water comes up to his knees, taking control of his breaths to even them out as he wills his entire body to stand still.

After about five minutes, he finally moves, taking the net up in his right hand and holding the root of the stem in his left before chucking it over the water in one smooth motion. He holds his breath as the weighted bulbs cause the net to sink quickly, praying that he had successfully caught at least one fish. The second he feels the stem go slack, signaling that the weights had reached the seafloor, he begins pulling the net towards himself, keeping his movements smooth yet quick so as to not scare any loose fish out of the net.

Thank fucking god. Three. I got three. They may not be large, but they’re better than nothing. He shoves them to the base of the net, half-cupping them in his hands as he tries to keep them from falling out as he makes his way back to the shore, meeting Hazel with a self-satisfied smile.

“No fucking way. How did you know how to do that?”

“I paid attention in the survival classes in school, that’s all.”

“Well thank god you did, otherwise I would probably be dead soon. Thanks, Samuel.”

Oh no, how horrible, I’m so glad I can help prevent your death. “No problem. Now uh, can you grab my shoes? We need to get this back inside the cave so we can cook it.”

“Don’t you want to take the scales off and all the guts out outside of the cave? I mean, if we’re sleeping in there. I don’t know about you, but I would prefer not to sleep next to fish guts.”

“Fine, Hazel.” Sam takes a deep breath in, trying not to roll his eyes at her. “How about you de-scale and gut them out here, and I’ll start roasting the kelp. When you’re done, we can snack on the kelp while roasting the fish. Sound good?”

She makes a face at him, once again disgusted by his suggestion of using the kelp. “What? You expect me to eat that? Seriously?”

“Eat it, don’t eat it, I don’t fucking care. It’s high in protein and sodium, so it’ll keep your energy up. Like I said you don’t have to eat it, just get to work on the fish please. I’d like to actually try to get some sleep tonight and I can’t do that if we’re up trying to cook.”

“Bossy, bossy.” Her words are grumbled out, annoyance tinging the edges of her tone as she drops his shoes by the mouth of the cave before finding his side again. “Got a knife in that pack?”

“Hold on, let me check.” Sam carefully sets the net and the three fish that had gradually become still on the sand gently before grabbing his shoes himself and making his way back to the cave, quickly throwing his boots next to the bag and stoking the fire before rummaging through the bag’s contents. His hand finds the handle of a small hunting knife quickly, and he retrieves it before making his way back to Hazel. The second he’s completed his task of getting her the knife, he gets as far away from her as fast as he can, busying himself with searching through the material washed ashore for some dry driftwood to add to the fire.

Hazel better watch herself. We both know that I’m the only one keeping her alive right now. The second she loses me, she’s done for. She may be a strong fighter, but she lacks survival skills and humility. She thinks she’s better than everyone here; I mean she isn’t half-wrong; we are better than a majority of the other tributes. But there’s no way she can be better than me. I just need to figure out if keeping her around is helpful or a hinderance; and how to get rid of her if it’s the latter.

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And In the Darkness Realize

Danny

“I’m getting hungry, you got a knife in that bag?”

Danny stops his path to search through his pack, having spent the last few hours wandering through the forest looking for any shelter or resources with Daphne. “Let me check, although I haven’t seen many edible plants around.”

“It’s fine, you get me a knife and I can go hunting for us.”

He pauses as he extends the handle of a small hunting knife towards her, hoping that she wasn’t already that desperate. “We can’t eat meat raw, kid. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to get food poisoning in here.”

“We’ll cook it then.”

“Fire makes smoke, smoke draws attention.”

“Not in the fire section of the arena.”

Danny’s brows furrow in his confusion, completely lost on the point she was trying to make. “What ‘fire section?’”

“The arena. I think it’s divided into four different kinds of land for the four elements; fire, earth, air, water.”

“Huh.” He considers her words for a moment, trying to remember if he saw anything at the cornucopia that could back her idea up. “Which one are we in right now, then? And wait, how’d you figure that out?”

“You didn’t see how obviously split the arena was? I don’t know, it seemed like a puzzle to me, and I’ve always been good at solving them. I think we’re in earth right now. Water is the area with the small rocky cliffs and the sea, and fire is the one directly across from it covered in lava rock and volcanos. I think air is the one across from us right now that’s covered in mountains, but I’m not sure yet.”

“Wait if that’s air, why is it covered in mountains? Wouldn’t that make it earth? Then this one could be air, what with all the trees.”

“Does it really matter right now?”

“…I guess not. Alright, so your plan is to catch some game here, then make our way over to fire to cook it without drawing attention?”

“Yep.” As much as he didn’t want to separate from Daphne, Danny knew that he would only make it harder for them to hunt. He knew his forte was with a bow and arrows, he could hit his target from near 50 feet away, and he never missed a shot. But close range, he knew he would make too much noise and scare their prey away, unlike Daphne, who was able to sneak up on anything and get within a foot of them without being seen or heard.

“Fine. Stay safe. If you come across another tribute, get as high up as you can as fast as you can and stay hidden. You know how to call for me.” Anxiety bubbles in his stomach as he finally allows her to take the knife from him, making direct eye contact with her so she knew just how serious he was. “I’m gonna stick around here and try to collect some wood for a fire, maybe sharpen some to make basic weapons since we only have the axe, dagger, and a small knife.”

“See you soon, Danny. Promise I’ll be safe.” With that, she turns and disappears into the trees quickly, her footsteps so quiet that he stops hearing her before she leaves his sight.

It’s fine. She’s fine. She’ll be safe. She has a weapon, she’s just going hunting, I’m sure she’ll be done within the hour. He’s ripped from his own mind as The New World’s anthem begins blaring over the arena’s speakers. Shit. There’s too many trees, I need to see the fallen tribute projection; I need to see who’s still a threat. Unable to come up with a better idea with such short notice, Danny shoves the axe into his bag blade-first before finding the nearest tree and beginning to climb it rapidly, knowing he had mere seconds before they showed the tributes.

He stops halfway up when he finds that he can see the projection of the nation’s seal through gaps in the foliage above him, balancing carefully on a large branch. Girl from 2, both tributes from 3, boys from 5 and 6, both district 8 tributes, boy from 9, boy from 11, and- Danny tears his eyes from the sky, immediately trying to distract himself from any thoughts of Daisy or Fletch. The girl from 2 is gone but the boy is still out there. Same thing with Samuel and his ally from 1. 11 killed at the bloodbath, that means there’s still 11 out there, not counting Daphne or I.

Danny lets his mind wander and work through different plans to guarantee his and Daphne’s survival as he climbs down, busying himself with collecting sticks and small branches for both their fire and weapons. Once he’s satisfied with the amount he had collected, he sorts them into two piles: one for weaponry and the other for the fire. Thankfully, he finds a bundle of rope in his bag, allowing him to tie the firewood together before securing it to his bag, freeing his hands for their trek to the other portion of the arena.

Daphne’s still not back, what if something happened? What if she needs me? Stop, Danny. You’re just making it worse for yourself. She’s alright, you need to find something else to do to keep yourself sane. Knowing he shouldn’t try to sharpen the small branches with his axe for fear of cutting himself and not wanting to search in the bag for Glinte’s dagger, he busies himself by chopping each branch into smaller pieces, just large enough to comfortably hold in his hand, with space to sharpen the end.

As he tries to keep his mind away from Daisy and Fletch, it drifts towards Samuel unintentionally as he goes through the familiar motions of his task. Why didn’t he kill me? He had a weapon, and I didn’t, and I didn’t make a move to fight him or defend myself. He could have killed me easily, so why didn’t he? Maybe I should try to find him, talk to him about why he didn’t kill me. Wait, what the fuck are you thinking? That would put Daphne in danger. He let you live once, he won’t make that mistake again; and if the girl from 1 is still with him, there’s no way all of us are walking away from that alive. This is The Hunger Games. He’s a Career, you’re not. You aren’t allies, you aren’t friends.

“I’m back.” Daphne’s voice startles him, having not heard her return as he zoned out on chopping the small pieces of wood, and he raises the axe to strike instinctively. “Woah, just me, Danny.” She raises her hands in surrender, her eyes going wide as she hesitates to approach him more.

“Shit, you scared me.” Noticing his weapon was still raised, he lowers it, shame flushing his cheeks even though he knew she understood he meant nothing by it. “Sorry, kid.”

“You’re fine. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that. Old habits, right?”

“Don’t worry about it, you get some good game?”

She grins from ear to ear, raising her hands to show him the rabbits clutched in both. “Yep, six in total. Not too bad if I say so myself.”

“Not too bad? Shit, kid, we’re gonna have enough food to last us tonight and tomorrow, maybe even longer. Good job.” Unzipping his bag, he sifts through the contents until he finds thin twine, taking it from the bag and trading Daphne the knife for the twine as he shoves it into the pack carefully. As she ties the feet of the rabbits together, he arranges the cut wood for weapons in the bag, the thought of having his hands empty of everything except his axe giving him some sense of extra comfort. “Alright, let’s get moving. Sooner we get to the other section, the better. You know which direction we’re going?”

“Yep.” Daphne gestures to their left, speaking as she begins walking in that direction.” This will lead us towards the cornucopia, we have less of a chance of getting lost if we head straight to it, and skirt around the edges of it until we get to fire.”

“Lead the way, kid. You’re the brains of this operation, I’m just the guy with the axe.”

“You’re more than just ‘the muscle’, Danny.” She laughs the words out, but they were sincere nonetheless, nothing but kindness on her face as she glances over at him. “You’re my friend too; you’re kind and loyal, it’s nice to not be alone. I’m glad I was stuck in here with you.”

“Thanks, Daphne.” The words catch in his throat, the sentiment quickly getting to him. “I’m glad I was stuck in here with you too.”

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Danny didn’t know how long they had been walking, but by the way his body protested every step, he guessed they’d been at it for at least two hours minimum. They had made their way quietly through the forested terrain without a word, needing to quickly scurry up a tree or into the underbrush on multiple occasions as the sounds of other tributes passed by them.

“We should walk along the border, deeper into the arena before crossing over. That way we still have the cover of trees if anyone else is by the cornucopia.”

“Smart move, keep leading the way, kid. I’ll cover you if you focus on finding us shelter as we get closer.”

The pair say nothing more once again as they make their way through the darkness, the light of the pale moon the only thing illuminating their path. After walking for around 20 minutes parallel to the border separating the forest and lava rock, Daphne stops, pointing towards a small “canyon” between cliffs of rock, the perfect cover for them.

Or the perfect opportunity to sabotage us from above. At the thought, Danny’s body floods with fear as Daphne takes the first step towards it. “Wait.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he gently grabs her arm, preventing her from continuing. “Keep your eyes on the clifftops above us, we don’t know if other tributes are up there waiting for someone to wander into them.”

“It’ll be fine, no one wants to go here anyways.” She softens at Danny’s pleading, worried expression, understanding that he would feel better if she agreed. “Alright, yeah, I will. Thanks for looking out for us.”

Knowing he would draw more attention than she would, Danny steps lightly, making sure to carefully place each foot down on the ground away from any loose rock that could fall and make noise. Just as he had done all day, he trusts Daphne’s sense of direction as she leads him through the twists and turns of the path as if she knew where she was going. Finally, she stops, pointing to a small path gouged into the wall, orange light radiating from deep within it. Danny can’t even begin to shake his head before she walks straight into the rock, her silhouette the only thing visible to him as he has no choice but to follow her.

“Daphne, I really don’t think this is a good ide-” His sentence abruptly stops, his jaw droping as he takes in the cavern before him; a small river of pure lava freely flowed from one wall to another, it’s path disappearing into the floor at the base of each wall and occupying a fourth of the cave. Thankfully, the other side of the cavern was nothing but lava rock, and Danny was thankful to find that despite the river of lava flowing no more than 30 feet away from them, that side of the cave seemed to be cool, as if a cold draft was blowing in through cracks. As he looks for them, he realizes suddenly that the half of the cavern not containing the lava river had no ceiling, the stars in the night sky shining bright above their heads

“You were saying?”

“Shut up… good job though. Alright, you want to build the fire or skin the rabbits?”

“Fire, I always found some way to mess up when I tried skinning game back home.”

“Fair enough.” They stay silent as Danny drops his bag, unzipping it and handing Daphne the wood he had collected for the fire before finding the dagger. Both move towards the river of lava, knowing better than to risk contaminating “their” side of the space they would sleep in by gutting and cooking an animal in it. Danny finds a mostly flat stone to act as his “table” as he sets in on the first rabbit, pinching its skin and fur at the base of its neck before making his first cut. He tries to keep his mind blank as he works, too many worries floating around his mind that he knew would distract him from his task if he allowed himself to think about them.

As soon as he’s finished skinning and gutting each rabbit, he turns to see Daphne had managed to stoke a medium sized fire, already beginning to set up supports on either side of it so they could roast the meat. As she finalizes the supports, making sure neither would fall, Danny skewers two of the rabbits on a larger stick, knowing he shouldn’t risk the weight of three. “That looks good, but here, watch this.” He hands her the roasting stick as he grabs another smaller branch near the base of the fire, poking at the lit wood until the flames die down to almost nothing; large enough to keep the fire going and roast the meat, but not so much that it would char it. “If you try to roast it over direct flame, it’ll burn it. Learned that the hard way, unfortunately. Now we can put the meat over it.”

She does as he says, tentatively placing the roasting stick onto the “Y’d” tops of the support branches. “Good job. You wanna be in charge of that while I sharpen some of these other branches?”

“I don’t want to mess it up…”

“You won’t, don’t worry. I’ll help you keep an eye on it, and I’ll tell you right now, there aren’t any mistakes you could make that I haven’t already made. Either way, I’ll eat it. Don’t want to waste, you know?”

“Alright… so what do I do first?”

“Turn it at a steady pace over the fire, if one part isn’t cooking as fast, keep it there for longer; opposite thing for if it’s cooking too fast, just avoid that area so it doesn’t burn or char.” She does exactly as he says, carefully turning the rabbits over the fire as Danny begins sharpening the ends of the weapon wood into points.

Danny gets through half the pile before noticing the rabbits had been cooked to perfection, removing the stick from the fire and leaning it against a wall to keep the meat off the ground. He skewers two more rabbits on another long branch before replacing it on the support beams and letting Daphne take over once more.

They both repeat their motions, with Danny setting the last handcrafted weapon down as Daphne removes the rabbits from the fire, setting them next to the others. Skewering the last two rabbits, Danny replaces them over the fire before finding a smaller, thinner roasting stick. Daphne watches with wide eyes as he impales the hearts, livers, and kidneys on it before setting in on roasting them over the fire.

“What?” Amusement passes over his face at Daphne’s surprised expression, her eyes glued to the organs.

“You’re really going to eat that?”

“Yeah, they taste good and are nutritious. I know they just put them in here for our consumption, but I still don’t like to be wasteful. We eat the meat and edible organs, we save the bones for weapons or tools, the hide for clothes or blankets. If we have to kill them for our survival, it’s important to utilize and be grateful for all they have to give.”

“Makes sense. Wait, so what are you doing with the bones and hide for the meantime? Don’t you need to wash them?”

“Yeah, we’ll need to clean them soon before they start attracting bugs and other pests. I figure we camp out here tonight then make our way back to the forest and try and find a stream. We can always go to the water section too if we can’t. I have some small tarps in my bag I can wrap them in for now.”

Their conversation dies out as hunger and exhaustion consumes them, their eyes locked on the roasting meat until they decide they’ve cooked long enough. They stay silent as they eat, neither caring for table manners as they rip the meat clean off the bone. Oh shit yeah, they didn’t let us eat before we left this morning, that’s why I’m so hungry. Danny finishes most of the roasted organs after Daphne nearly spits out the single bite of a heart she took, opting for the regular rabbit meat instead. Both finish off two full rabbits on their own, deciding to save the remaining two for breakfast the next morning.

“I thought we’d have more left over; I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” Danny tries to make light, joking conversation as he puts the fire out, knowing just how exhausted Daphne had to have been.

“Yeah, me too.” He stays silent as he wraps the hides and discarded bones in a small tarp, tying it up securely with the remainder of their twine so it wouldn’t spill the contents into his pack. Noticing the last two rabbits were still on a stick leaning against the wall, he puts them on the support sticks over the charred remainder of their fire before making his way across the cave and sitting against a wall, the rest of the cavern as well as the opening above them easily visible from his spot.

“Alright, let’s get some rest. I can take the first watch so you can sleep, I’ll wake you up to take over when I get tired.”

Daphne follows, sitting a foot away from him and leaning against the wall. “You sure?”

“Mhm. Go ahead.” Daphne needs no more convincing as she closes her eyes, resting the back of her head against the wall without another word. After about 15 minutes had gone by, he was sure she was asleep. That is, until she opens her eyes quickly, frustration flashing across her features. “You ok, kid?”

“Yeah I- I can’t sleep, it’s stupid.”

“Why can’t you sleep?”

“Every time I get close, my body panics. I’m just- I’m terrified and you help me not feel so scared. But I don’t know, I feel alone when I can’t see you.”

“Come here.” Danny’s voice is gentle, breaking slightly as he raises his arm to let her settle into his side, the familiarity of the action hitting him like a knife to the chest. When Josie would have nightmares after mom and dad died, I’d let her crawl into my bed so she didn’t feel alone until she was able to sleep. I hope she’s ok.

Daphne scoots closer, tucking herself against Danny as his arm lowers around her shoulders, her cheek coming to rest on the top of his chest. “Thank you.”

“No problem, kid. Hope you can get some sleep.” He says nothing more, praying that she would find the comfort of rest quickly. Feeling her finally completely relax against him after ten minutes, he breathes a sigh of relief. Daphne’s hands fist the fabric of his shirt as she gets more comfortable in her sleep, drawing her knees towards her body and shifting her entire body weight onto Danny. He doesn’t mind, his own wave of comfort and peace flooding over him as his eyes wander to the stars above him.

It’s insane to think that just a few days ago, we were strangers. Now, she’s like a sister to me. I would actually die for her if it meant she got to have a long, happy life. As he tries to stay awake, only the thoughts of his sisters circle his mind; his only reasons for staying strong, for staying alive.

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