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voraciousvore · 5 months ago

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Giganterra (Chapter 53)

Prologue/TOC | Previous (52) | Next (54)

Content Warning: Soft safe unwilling vore, mild sexual themes, vulgar language

Word Count: 2.4k

------ Chapter 53: Lost ------

While the rest of the hunting party retreated to the castle, the greyhounds and their master sought to catch Martin and Candy. They lost the trail at the river. They crossed to the other side and searched, but when the hounds were unable to pick up the scent, the trainer guided them back to the river. He surmised, correctly, that Martin swam downstream, so he sent the hounds on a path along the shore to find him.

The dog handler had to abandon his horse as the trees grew closer and closer together. Eventually, the riverside became impassible for even the dogs, overgrown with dense webs of thorned brambles, trees, and mud, so the trainer was forced to backtrack and return to the opposing shore. He doubted the knight would be foolish enough to exit the water’s flow so close to the castle, so he continued south through the town. No sightings or sign of the knight materialized, so he trekked into the woods beyond.

There, he struck gold. He discovered the knight’s gauntlets and supplies, washed up in a tangle of vines. However, the dogs still couldn’t pick up the scent. They wandered aimlessly through the trees, chasing squirrels and marking their scents with pride. The hunter figured the dogs must be too tired after the prolonged journey, which had taken several hours, so he rounded up the animals and went back to the castle to report to the king.

King Richard brooded on his throne, fuming. He’d lost both his favorites, Millie and Candy, not to mention one of his most esteemed loyal knights. He didn’t understand why Martin betrayed him, except out of envy and greed, to take one of his pets for his own. He observed coldly as Hunter repaired Ajax: stitching up his wounds, refilling his veins with facsimile blood, and infusing fresh magic into his animated corpse via stones, potions, and muttered incantations. Joey stood next to the king, filling in as his personal guard while Ajax’s body was repaired. His cut had been tended to. As he suspected, it was shallow enough to heal quickly with the potion, though the scar still ached. Leon stood stiffly at the king’s left shoulder.

The king perked up when the dog master, his breeches and boots wet and splattered with grime, marched into the throne room. “Did you find her? Did you slaughter the traitor?” Hardon inquired eagerly.

“Um... no.” The king clenched his fists in anger on the arms of his throne, causing the handler to cower back. “B-b-but I found some of his gear in the river south of the castle! I had to turn back because the dogs were unable to persist, due to fatigue.”

“Worthless mutts! Execute them all!” Hardon bellowed, slamming down his fist. The trainer blanched, too dumbfounded to form a protest.

Leon leaned over and whispered in the king’s ear. “Your Majesty, do not allow your temper to cloud your good judgement. It would take time to replace all those well-trained dogs. For now, send Chester.” The king grunted with annoyance but executed the command. “Show Chester where to search. And if you can’t find her and bring her to me, it’ll be your head!” The trainer bowed and rushed out.

Next, Hardon sent a servant to fetch the royal blacksmith. He arrived within minutes, wiping the soot from his gloves onto his shirt. “Blacksmith! I need you to craft an iron helmet for my guard! One that can’t be removed and completely covers his empty eye socket!” The blacksmith didn’t question the strange order and measured Ajax’s skull to determine the correct size.

“I’ll have to weld it directly to his head. Or bolt it on,” the blacksmith stated.

“Very well. Hunter, go with him to the forge and finish your business there.” Hunter glared disdainfully at the dirty blacksmith but accompanied his own freakish creation to the smithy.

The king grumbled something under his breath and shifted with dissatisfaction in his chair. Out of habit, his fingers traced the cord of his necklace, but he only became more incensed when he felt the cold metal of the empty clasp, bereft of warm living flesh.

“Leon! Bring me a big slice of vanilla bean cheesecake! Topped with caramel!” he demanded. “And put every damn human in the kitchen on it!”

“Sire, your royal food taster is currently absent-”

“I don’t care! You taste it for me!” Hardon snapped. “It’s not as if he’s not expendable!” Leon bowed and scurried out of the room like a rodent.

He burst into the kitchen and announced the king’s request. The chefs dropped everything to fulfill the order. Chef Cruor gathered all the humans except for Addison and sprinkled them on top of a gigantic slab of cheesecake. As usual, he had to shove Eren into the slice up to her chin when she refused to settle down. She yelled at him until he buried her under a mountain of whipped cream and drizzled caramel in a fancy swirl over the confection. He handed the plate to Leon.

“What about that one?” Leon asked, pointing at Addison. “He did say all the humans.”

Cruor snarled like a feral beast and blocked Addison’s tank with his mass, which Leon couldn’t help but notice seemed to be expanding in width, though he was too polite to point it out. “Touch her and you’re dead meat!”

“But the king said-”

“I don’t give a damn what he said! You even think about touching her and I’ll rip your fingers off with my jaws!” Cruor bared his teeth wide enough to reveal a double chin. A wild flash shot through his violet eyes.

Leon realized he was deathly serious and backed off. “Okay, okay, this should be enough,” he assured the chef, backing out the door. He strode down the hall with a shudder. He glanced down with misery at the multitude of humans trapped in sticky caramel on the giant cheesecake. They gazed back up at him with misery, fear, and condemnation. The tragic sight drowned him in an endless sea of loathing, both for the king and himself. He wanted to grab up all the humans and set them free. He wanted to douse the cake in poison and watch with glee as the savage king died an excruciating death, choking on his own vomit and blood. He wanted to run away from it all—but he knew he couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to get away with any of it. He was trapped.

He presented the king with his dessert. Hardon took the plate, licking his chops with ravenous hatred. “Which one of you would like to be my new favorite?” he questioned aggressively. The humans shivered with terror, too petrified to answer. Living in the kitchen was ghastly enough, but they all knew what the perverted giant did to helpless tiny women behind closed doors.

He plucked each victim out of the cheesecake, one by one, and played with them in his hands. He rolled them around in his fingers, prodded them with his fork to test how they would respond, and licked them clean, before popping them in his mouth. He savored them thoughtfully, sucking and slurping, pressing them into his teeth and the inner walls of his cheeks, before swallowing them down.

As much as he enjoyed their varied flavors, their fear, and their ceaseless squirming, his wrath increased with every swallow. They were fine and delicious, but none of them were Candy or Millie. None of them were of a high enough standard to qualify as his favorite. After eating five or six of them, he reached the last little morsel, Eren, still buried in cheesecake. He picked her out, amused by her futile thrashing and cursing as she punched his fingers.

“Saucy little minx, aren’t you?” he remarked with amusement.

She glowered at him. “Go to hell, you revolting beast!” Despite her attempts to sound fierce, her voice was small and squeaky in the vast hall.��

The giant chuckled. “I like girls with some fight in them. How would you like to be my new favorite?”

Eren turned white as paper. Her rebellious spirit was dampened in a flash as she realized the error of her ways. She hadn’t anticipated that type of response from the dangerous king. She curled up her arms and trembled. “N-no thanks.”

Joey, standing on one side of the king, felt dreadfully ill as he watched the display. He was powerless to do anything, surrounded by people and guards in the throne room. He could only stare in horror as the tiny people disappeared down the king’s gullet. He recognized Eren, the brave woman, and crumbled internally when he saw her reduced to such a state. He wondered to himself, if given the opportunity, if he’d be courageous enough to throw it all away like Martin did. He wished he could save her from such a gruesome fate. He regretted going against his better judgement and not taking more decisive action when he had the chance.

Eren glanced over at Joey. The hard edge of defiance in her eyes softened. They shared a snapshot of connection before Eren was forcibly engulfed in the king’s hungry maw and swallowed. Joey turned his head to the side, sickened.

“Is this all? This is the best we have?” the king complained as he stewed in his rage. “I might have to place another order with Minimaterra for some fresh meat.”

“Oh, it’s a bit soon for that, isn’t it?” Leon hastily interjected. “If you ask for tribute too often, the quality will decline.”

The king, as he listened to Leon, stared down at his half-eaten dessert. The fury festering inside him grew exponentially by the second, until the inferno within became intolerable. He erupted like a volcano, bellowing with intense vitriol, “Why am I surrounded by IDIOTS?! GODDAMMIT!” He stood up and hurled the plate across the throne room, shattering it with a dramatic crash. The room went deathly silent as everyone stiffened. “FIND HER!” he commanded, before storming off.

In the coming days, Martin and Candy failed to materialize, since both Chester and the dogs were unable to pick up the scent trail south of the castle. The king was enraged and spent most of his time terrorizing his servants and sexually harassing the maids. Fortunately, Joey was relieved from guard duty once Ajax was fully restored. Besides his fresh stitches, Ajax was also equipped with a heavy iron mask that covered most of his face and clamped around his head. The device was a modified torture implement from the dungeons, with the lock welded shut and the chain hanging off the base of the skull shorn. An extra sheet of metal was added to replace his eyepatch, so that nobody could tear the magic runic stone animating his body out of his head. He had no more weaknesses.

Joey felt lost without his mentor. He was torn between his loyalty to Martin, his duty as a servant to the royal family, and the code of chivalry that demanded he help a maiden in need, all critical foundations of knighthood. He couldn’t navigate the complex web of his responsibilities and what was morally right. He couldn’t read in a book what he was supposed to do in his specific situation. He wasn’t sure what he could do. He didn’t have Sir Maneater anymore to guide him and bestow great advice and wisdom. He wandered aimlessly in a maze of confusion.

His anxiety spiked when the king commanded him to take over Sir Maneater’s role as instructor and resume the prince’s fencing lessons. Since the incident with the lemonade, Joey had avoided Ronny like the plague, limiting his interactions to sparring with his face covered so he didn’t have to talk or make eye contact. He hadn’t spoken to the prince more than the absolute bare minimum. Ronny hadn’t retaliated against him, but Joey still feared angering the volatile prince.

He waited anxiously in the courtyard next to the stables for Prince Ronny, twirling his sword, digging his heels into the dirt, and polishing his glasses on his white outfit. Joey flinched, startled, when the royal made his appearance and advanced towards him with purpose. As usual, Ronny’s dark irises were hard and cold, his features haughty and aloof, and his figure sharp enough to be cut from stone.

“Your Highness!” Joey scrambled into a low bow.

“Let’s get this over with,” Ronny grumbled.

“Y-yes, of course, Your Highness,” Joey stammered. “Let’s start with our usual warm-ups and stretches.” Joey was jittery and ungraceful as he went through the motions with Ronny in deafening silence. He couldn’t bear to look the prince in the face, staring stupidly at his shoes or hands instead. When it came to actual instruction, he could barely manage to squeak out a few words without stuttering like a fool. He tried to demonstrate a pattern of footwork and ended up tripping over his feet instead.

Ronny huffed. “Are you going to be weird and awkward for this entire lesson?”

“S-s-s-sorry, Your Highness!” Joey bit his tongue and grimaced.

“Just—stop that! It’s so irritating! Is this about that whole lemonade thing?” the prince questioned gruffly. Joey chewed on his lip, sweating over the mere mention of his transgression. “Because I don’t give a fuck, you know.”

“R-really? You’re not… mad at me?” Joey asked, incredulous. “I figured you’d want me flogged and quartered for what I did.”

“Perhaps at one time, yes. But Tanya tells me I need to learn clemency. And... to control my childish tantrums,” Ronny admitted sheepishly.

“Who’s Tanya?”

“Never mind,” the prince grunted. “It’s not important. Let’s just keep moving.” Joey resumed the lesson, stronger this time, as he gradually regained his confidence. By the end, he was almost back to his old self. Ronny was in a hurry to leave, since he wanted to wash up and get back to Tanya, so he didn’t stick around for chit chat. Joey sighed in relief as he watched the prince go. He wasn’t about to get destroyed like he thought. Maybe the prince had a glimmer of magnanimity somewhere in his cold heart after all.

Chapter 54

Tag List: @tinycoded360 @yummynomms @maybeiamdownbad

#g/t vore #gt vore #vore writing #vore story #soft vore #unwilling prey

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mysticmonkeybusiness · 6 months ago

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Prompt: macaque and mayor arguing / bickering and wukong gets brought up; given by @visionaryscribe

Wrote this intending to take place just before Macaque catches up with MK, Mei, and Sandy in S3

Now, don’t get him wrong, the Lady Bone Demon ranks much higher on his personal threat assessment list. But.

Her little guard dog certainly gets on his nerves.

“Don’t you have better things to do than nip at my heels?” Macaque scowls and looks over his shoulder at the ever-persistent thorn in his side. “Like, I don’t know, being at Her beck and call?”

Unsettlingly wide eyes and smile rest on a face more suitable for a masquerade than a person. “Oh, but I am. My lady wishes to know what’s taking you so long. Surely it shouldn’t be giving you much trouble to capture the Monkey King and his errant successor.”

He narrows his eyes and just barely bites back a snarl, claws digging into the palms of his hands and just barely stopped from cracking the compass. Macaque might fear – Reasonably! No matter what certain others might think – LBD, but her lacky doesn’t have nearly the same kind of hold. He doesn’t have to take this from a half-baked puppet. “Even weakened, Wukong is tricky. Tracking them down is proving time consuming. Go run back to your mistress, I’ll have them both in my hands soon enough.”

Its’ head tilts at an disquieting angle and it jerks forwards, pulled on unseen strings. Macaque refuses to flinch back when it gets in his face and hopes the cold sweat on his neck isn’t obvious. Sometimes he wonders just how much the bone witch can get from her thrall. The thing would probably get off on it.

“You’re not getting cOLd FEeT are you?” The head tilts further sideways and it’s painful to look at. “Poor little shadow, desperately clinging to someone who never even cAReD.”

His snarl has no hope of being suppressed this time, as his shadow staff forms and is swung at the thrall faster than the action registers to his higher brain functions. Unfortunately, he misses, hitting nothing but the air left behind as it retreats, cackling at having hit a nerve.

“As if.” Macaque spits out, stuffing the words with as much venom as he can muster. “I’ll catch up and drag them back. And then my debt will be paid.”

The thing never blinks, deranged cheshire grin growing larger and rattling instincts in him that prevent him from looking away from the threat. “Don’t ‘lose’ him like you did my Lady’s key. You’d hate discovering what happens to fAiLuREs. And my Lady is always watching.”

Mad laughter lingers in the air long after the thrall disappears. Macaque is left with the pitch-black desert night and the chill of dead magic in his veins. For once the dark is not the comfort it normally is. He takes a fortifying breath and looks down at the compass in his hand.

Right. Time to get this show on the road.

#lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk macaque #lmk mayor #my writing #ficlet

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lcgacyofages · 21 days ago

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for the drabble prompt, making a bit of a spicy thing with Ogden and Domitius? 👀

Send me the names of two of my muses, and I’ll write a small drabble about them interacting!

This got more than a bit spicy, so it's smut. It's a bit on the rougher side. But here we go. The more usfw stuff is going to be under readmore, so you can read up until then if it's not your flavor!

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The note had taken him a bit by surprise. He was surprised Domitius wanted to talk to him after the fight they got into. Maybe he merely wanted to sneer at him and act oh-so-superior like ‘Vints liked to do. Or maybe he wanted another round. That was fine. Ogden wasn’t about to back down from any sort of challenge. And he was sure Domitius needed another beat down. Probably took him by surprise a mage was able to go toe-to-toe with him.

Domitius came from an altus family and had been taught about magic from a young age. The fact he was not a mage, though, probably rubbed him the wrong way. And his military service made up for that, until he apparently got caught in a darkspawn raid. And so, he’d gone to Weisshaupt to join the Order. Only a few years younger than Ogden, he was already making a name for himself due to his ferocity and skill.

And for some reason, Domitius decided his favorite pass time was targeting Ogden on the training grounds and in the tavern. He liked to push him, see what would irk him more. Ogden tried to ignore him and rebuff him as much he could, but Domitius was persistent. This time, he had gone too far, trying to lecture Ogden about the differences between Northern Circles and Southern Circles, as well as the specifics of blood magic versus more traditional magic. Ogden wasn’t normally one against a friendly debate, but this was patronizing and demeaning to him. And so…

He’d punched him. The pair had ended up having a brawl in the middle of Weisshaupt’s tavern, needing the senior wardens to drag them off of each other once they felt like the pair were done. And since Ogden had thrown the first hit, he was the one put in the cooler.

So. Yeah. The note was a surprise.

The bonus surprise was where Domitius told him to meet him. It was in the Officers’ wing, within one of the quarters that currently was not in use. Ogden wondered what strings he pulled to be able to get the keys for it to use. He was probably rubbing elbows with the other well-born Wardens. That didn’t surprise Ogden; that seemed to be a rampant issue among Northern Wardens. Wardens were meant to leave behind their titles and status when they joined, but Ogden had noticed not many northern wardens truly did. This thought settled in him with mild annoyance as he stood outside the door. Raising a hand, he knocked on it.

“Domitius,” he said, wanting to make sure this was the right place.

“Thorne? Come in. Make sure to lock it behind you.” The Tevinter accent clear in the voice, a bit warmer and more inviting than Ogden had expected. Ogden pushed open the door, closing it behind him and glancing about the room. The only light was coming from the fireplace at one end of the room, some candles on a table, and the candles on the table beside the bed. He examined every corner out of habit, making sure nothing was lurking in the dark.

Standing by the fireplace was Domitius. He had a glass of red wine in his hand, the color matching that of the open shirt he wore, tucked into dark trousers. His usually swept back dark hair was down and gray eyes held a certain…Light to them that made Ogden start to put some pieces together. Ogden noted how smoothly he moved to the table, seeing the wine bottle and glass sitting there, waiting. He watched how Domitius’s hand moved on the neck of the bottle, taking in a breath and ignoring the suggestion within the motion.

“Wine?” The offer drew Ogden from the thoughts he was trying to push aside. He moved towards the table, eyeing Domitius with a slight glimmer of suspicion. All he met in the hooded gray eyes was amusement and…heat. This hadn’t been what he had expected. He was sure Domitius was going to challenge him in some way—

Perhaps he was. And Ogden wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge.

He placed his hand on the bottle’s neck, atop Domitius’s own as he stood in front of the shorter man. He repeated the motion Domitius had done, gripping his hand and directed it on the bottle. Excitement came to Domitius’s eyes at that as he stared up at Ogden, not backing down from his gaze.

“Pour it,” Ogden ordered, letting his hand drop to his side. He sat down in one of the chairs, elbow resting on the table and knees apart. Domitius smirked at the sight, but set his own glass down, picking up the empty one to pour Ogden his drink. Ogden watched him from beneath his heavy brow, part of him pleased at getting the arrogant ass to follow his order. Domitius did as he was told, standing intimately close to Ogden while doing so, the outside of his knee brushing against the inside of Ogden’s.

“It’s wine from Antiva,” Domitius told him. “I like to get this specific kind.” He lowered himself between Ogden’s legs, offering the glass to him. Ogden took the glass, swirling it but watching Domitius over the rim. He couldn’t deny the position he was in was…Appealing. Ogden shifted a bit in his seat and that garnered a smirk from Domitius. He rested a hand on Ogden’s thigh, slowly trailing it up at a painfully slow pace.

“This isn’t from Siona,” Ogden said, noting the smell. “It’s from a vineyard outside of Treviso. A bit of a rougher wine due to being closer to the Dry Lands.”

Domitius’s eyes widened a bit in surprise at the knowledge he had on the matter. “Yes. My taste tends to be a bit…Rougher.”

Ogden raised the glass to his lips, taking a sip of it. While still a similar taste to other reds, there was something in it that had more of a bite to it. He contemplated the wine for a moment, eyeing Domitius still before him. He had started to rub patterns into Ogden’s thigh with his thumb, waiting for his next move. Ogden did his best to ignore the sensations the motion was starting to send through him.

“A bit rougher, huh?” Ogden let his free hand trail along Domitius’s jaw line, tilting his face a bit more to get a good look at him. His hand moved to tangle in those dark locks before gripping and pulling Domitius’s head back, then bringing his head up to level with his own. A pleased sound pushed back Domitius’s lips and Ogden couldn’t help but smirk. “Like this?”

“Ita vero,” Domitius breathed out, both hands resting on Ogden’s thighs now, gripping in anticipation. Ogden set the wine glass down, his now free hand moving to Domitius’s hip to pull him closer. He was in control and the Vint was at his mercy now. His hand moved around the curve of his hip bone to settle low on his ass, fingers teasing near to his still clothed entrance. Ogden gave a tight, rough squeeze, enjoying seeing how Domitius reacted to his touches. Domitius arched his back slightly, pushing more into Ogden’s hand.

“How long have you been wanting this?” Ogden asked, amusement on his face as he tilted his head to the side. There was a swell of pride on Domitius’s features, a stubbornness growing. Ogden drew his hand back, letting it land with a sharp hit on his ass, gripping his cheek tighter and fingers now hovering above his clothed entrance, paired with a sharp tug in his hair. It earned a moan from Domitius. “How long have you been wanting this from me?”

“Since I saw you,” Domitius confessed, his hands moving up Ogden’s body from his thighs to rest on his chest, dark grey eyes heavy with want as he looked at Ogden.

The next moment was a flurry of movements. A crashing of lips against each other, arms entangling around the other’s heated body. In a swift motion, Ogden cleared the glasses, wine, and candles off the table, sending them to the floor with a shattering sound. In a quick motion, his hands came onto Domitius’s hips, throwing him onto the table and pinning him there with his body. He could feel his hardness against his own as their hips pressed together. There was only a brief reprieve to breathe before Ogden’s lips came crashing down on Domitius’s again, the gasp from Domitius’s lips allowing his tongue entrance. He dominated his body, tongue teasing and pressing against the other’s. Domitius’s hands scrambled to hold onto something, his knees bending to dig his heels into the table, legs opening more. His back arched, desperately pressing against Ogden. Ogden roughly held Domitius’s hips in place, though, already planning what the night could entail.

Once he got him to behave, his hands moved up to the shirt he wore, roughly tearing it out and he heard the satin tear under his grip. Didn’t matter, he did like it rough as he said. He tossed the clothing aside, mouth moving down from Domitius’s bruised lips to bite hard on his shoulder. His hands toyed with his nipples, the chill of the castle already making them hard. Domitius gave shouts in Tevene which Ogden knew a bit of, but not all of them.

One hand moved down his body to toy with the hardening bulge in Domitius’s trousers. He pulled back to watch him be at his mercy, lost in the sensations. He rubbed it for a few moments, watching Domitius lost in the sensation before giving it a light smack. The hit sent a jolt to Domitius and he looked up at Ogden, eyes narrowing but heat on his cheeks.

“I want you on your knees,” Ogden told him, hand moving up to grip Domitius’s hair again, pulling his head back and receiving a hiss from the man. “I want you to show me how much you want my cock.”

“Maker, isn’t it already obvious?” Domitius argued, trying to regain some since of pride.

Ogden gave a bit of a scoff at that, standing up straight and taking his hands off Domitius. Domitius propped himself up on his elbows, just barely fitting on the table. Ogden undid his belt slowly and watched how Domitius’s eyes darkened with want. He let the belt drop with a thud on the wooden floor. He reached into his trousers, pulling out his length and giving it a stroke, in full view of the other man. Domitius’s eyes widened as he took in the size and girth of it and Ogden swore he almost could hear a quiet moan of want from him.

“Show me how much you want my cock.”

Domitius’s eyes moved from his penis up to his face, taking a few breaths to prepare himself. Ogden gave himself another long, slow stroke, raising his brows at Domitius in a challenge. Domitius sneered at the challenge but refused to back down from it. He slid off the table in front of Ogden, settling on his knees in front of him. He examined Ogden’s length before him, hands resting on his hips. Ogden’s hand moved from his cock to Domitius’s hair, tangling in it and pushing his face closer. Domitius took the cue, starting to worship his cock with his lips, letting them trail along his length before letting his tongue slip out to taste and tease. Ogden’s grip in his hair tightened, pressing him closer. Domitius’s tongue trailed up to his head, Ogden’s cock hardening even more as he did so.

Domitius tongued swirled around the tip of his cock before he took it into his mouth, testing himself. Ogden’s other hand joined his hand in tangling in his hair, enjoying the heat wrapping around his cock from his mouth. He pressed deeper into Domitius’s mouth, pleased this would at least shut him up for a bit. Domitius’s teeth raked against his skin, sending a thrill through his body. Once Domitius had comfortably fit all of him in him, Ogden paused for a moment, before pulling his hips back and keeping a firm grip on Domitius’s head. Once just the tip was in Domitius’s mouth, he slammed back in, hearing a surprised sound come from Domitius’s throat. He could see his eyes watering as he looked up at him. And so, he did it again. And again. He paused, though, at the feeling of Domitius’s moan against him.

Taking his chance, Domitius pressed his tongue against the underside of his cock, sucking on it. Ogden allowed him to start to move his head on his own, but kept his hands in his hair. Domitius moved with practiced ease along his length, using tongue and lips to please him. When his tongue ran along his tip, though, Ogden took control back, taking a fast, heated pace in his mouth. Domitius gripped at his hips, trying his best to relax and take the onslaught of his cock.

Ogden could feel it bundling in his lower gut. He pulled out, pushing Domitius back onto his ass and hands. He gave himself a few more pumps before hitting his climax. His cum landed on Domitius chest and Domitius couldn’t help but scowl.

“And here I wanted to taste you,” he said, running a finger on the mess on him before bringing it to his lips.

“What? That wasn’t enough?” Ogden mocked.

Domitius sucked on his finger, staring up at Ogden. “Hardly.”

Ogden’s eyes trailed down his form, noting the size of the bulge in his trousers now. He put his foot on top of it, lightly pressing down. Domitius’s eyes widened and swollen lips parted at the sensation. Ogden pressed down a little harder, rubbing the sole of his boot against the length of it. Domitius sucked in a painful hiss, but the way his hips bucked slightly told Ogden everything he needed to know. Having Domitius at his mercy was already sending blood rushing down again.

One good thing about being a warden was the stamina.

“Get up.” It was an order as Ogden removed his foot. In a quick motion, he discarded his own top and Domitius drunk the sight in. “I said get up.” Domitius registered the order and scrambled to his feet. Ogden grabbed his chin, bringing him closer to him. He grabbed his hand, bringing it to his flaccid dick. In a mirroring motion to what had happened with the wine bottle, Ogden began directing him to stroke him. Domitius gladly obliged and Ogden claimed his lips in a searing kiss, a mix of tongue and teeth with lips. Ogden could feel his desire growing with each stroke, his mind swimming with what he was planning to do.

In a quick motion, he sent Domitius tumbling to the bed in the chambers. Domitius landed on his stomach, pushing himself up as Ogden stalked closer. Ogden leaned over, reaching around Domitius’s frame to undo his belt, then quickly pulling his trousers and smalls down to reveal his bared ass. Ogden glanced over at the side table, not at all surprised to see the oil waiting. Of course Domitius had prepared. He rested his cock between his cheeks, thinking for a moment and slightly moving his hips.

“You’re an awful tease, you know,” Domitius snapped, pressing his ass against his cock. The words drew Ogden from his thoughts, and he leaned down, pressing his chest to Domitius’s back. His hand wrapped around his body, gripping at his cock tightly. The feeling released a strangled moan from Domitius. Ogden pulled roughly on it, letting his thumb press hard on his tip.

“Fuck you, would you fucking fuck me already?!” Domitius snapped.

“You’ve got no patience, have you?” Ogden murmured against his ear, clearly amused at how tightly wound the Tevinter apparently was for him. “That’s what you get for wanting for so long.” He nipped at his shoulder blade, pulling back. He let go of his cock, a disappointed sound coming from Domitius.

Ogden grabbed the bottle of oil, tossing it on the bed beside Domitius. Domitius stared at it, trying to figure out what he meant by it. He rolled over onto his back, looking at Ogden. Ogden couldn’t deny Domitius was an attractive man. He had years of serving in Tevinter’s military, his body honed to show that. And the way the light played off of his medium olive skin made the shadows of his muscles more pronounced. His eyes trailed down to his now freed cock, noting it was of a decent size but not really comparable to his own.

“Finger yourself. You want me; prepare yourself for me.” Ogden wasn’t going to do the work. Not when this is something Domitius had apparently wanted for months. Ogden saw how his breath changed, seeming to catch with want. Domitius grabbed the bottle, oiling his fingers. He kicked off his boots and remaining clothes, revealing his entirely bare form for Ogden. He kept his eyes locked with Ogden’s as he bent his knees up and spread himself so he could have a full view. He started with a single finger in his hole, pressing in and starting a slow pace. Ogden watched, keeping his breathing even and not reacting to how his own cock was reacting to the view before him.

“Put another finger in.” Domitius obliged the order, two fingers widening his hole to prepare for Ogden. Ogden moved beside him, grabbing the bottle and oiling his own hand. He started to slowly pump his own cock, leaning down to press a trail of heated kisses along Domitius’s neck. “Now a third,” he whispered against his ear. Domitius listened, a low moan coming from it at the feeling. Ogden gripped his wrist, making him go faster. With ease, he moved his hand so one of his fingers would enter Domitius as well, getting a surprised cry from him. “If you’re going to take me, you need to be properly prepared.”

“Would you just fucking do it already?!” Domitius’s tone was annoyed but heavy with want. At that, Ogden curled his finger inside of him, pressing against that spot. Domitius let out a chocked moan, back arching at the feeling.

“Be polite,” Ogden scolded, letting his finger lazily stroke against that spot.

“Please, please just fucking fuck me,” Domitius moaned.

Ogden chuckled, moving to stand up and removed his finger from his ass. He lowered his trousers a bit more, then set a hand on either backside of Domitius’s thighs. He pushed them up, knees close to Domitius’s chest now. Domitius looked up at him, preparing himself and his hands gripping his cheeks to open himself up more to Ogden. Ogden pressed the tip against his entrance, slowly easing in. Domitius’s head fell back, seeming to be relieved to be filled.

“Now, you said you like it rougher,” Ogden warned him as he sunk his entire length into him. He shifted himself, bracing a knee against the bed and making sure he had the right angle to send him over the edge. Domitius looked up at him with wide eyes, putting what he meant together. “So, you’re going to get it rougher.” Without further warning, Ogden pulled almost all the way out before roughly slamming into him. Domitius gave a sound which was mix of a groan and a strangled cry. That did not stop Ogden and he kept up the hard pace, seeking out a second high for himself. Domitius arched his back, aiding in Ogden’s cock in pressing against that spot to make him see stars. Ogden knew Domitius wouldn’t last; he hadn’t even gotten relief earlier with his already hard cock. He kept Domitius folded, chasing the feeling of warmth around his cock, feeling the build up coming again. He felt Domitius muscles seize around him as he came, his own cum staining his chest alongside Ogden’s from earlier. He continued, faster and faster, feeling his own pleasure bundling low in his stomach.

Finally, he pressed deep into Domitius, feeling the tension release, and a wave of pleasure wash over him. His hands let go of Domitius’s thighs and he braced himself on the bed as he took breaths over Domitius. Domitius took the opportunity, leaning forward to press a softer, but still heated kiss to his lips. Ogden returned the kiss, cupping the back of his head to deepen it. He broke the kiss, pulling back and pulling himself out of Domitius.

Domitius laid back, smirking up at Ogden in a satisfied manner. “You know, you wasted some very good wine.”

“I’ll make it up to you.”

Domitius pulled Ogden down to him again, a heated look in his gaze. “Oh, you will.” Ogden realized this was going to be a rather long night. Not that he was complaining.

#Asks: Ogden Thorne #Character: Ogden Thorne #HC: Ogden Thorne #Drabble: Ogden Thorne #// usfw #// nsft #anonymous #long post cw #cw long post

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kylebarf · 2 years ago

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@cartmanandbutters surprise kyle’s cock and balls

‘ You haven’t visited in a while . ’ ‘ I know .. ’ ‘ And I miss yew . ’ ‘ As greedy as ever . ’

“ Yew know, yew can just choose not to go back to that place . ” It was the usual arguement , out of spit of jealousy -- would those phrases splat around , even if said competition was long ago . It has been years , truly -- and it seemed like the haunting spirit’s selfishness would decrease with time, rather, to put preference over watching the lives of the redhead with the significant other -- an alternate time, another old fantasy might’ve the ghost called. “ I know, but he’ll keep bugging me in my dreams. You know how you are. ” In exchange - the brunett grumpted, stumping over his feet, yet holding onto that childish behaviour to never cease, “ The complete opposite! ” A chuckle escaped from the redhead for that, stepping toward the other, before leaning in , foreheads pressing against each other’s, “ And I’ll always love you, only you. ” Eric’s face softened, a frown hanging upon feathures, as his eyes darted to the side. persistent, the man cupped his cheek to draw his attention back, before sharing a loveable kiss. “Take care of the kids. ”

----

The scenerio said it all. It has been years. Dead thorns decorated the entire field, warning any from stepping in -- and those who feared ( oh , everyone feared ) would never approach , in terror from the thought of own’s torn flesh if ever curiously decided to land foot near the field.

And then there was Kyle. This Kyle. Scarred from head to toe, all hidden by a mere plain fabric, secrets to hold. And he would step in, never to hesitant, and those thorns - ( oh , how they loved him , their little , precious redhead ) would clutch onto his skin for dearest life , tearing flesh , devouring the splattered blood - before meeting their demise, as a knife struck to clear a path toward that one, special place.

The thorns were all gone, and only a grave remained. In their place, will grow roses of red, colored by the essence of their beloved, the redhead.

“ Even after death, you still hurt me. ” A complain to begin - so was typical of Kyle Broflovski, but even so - was it sarcastically said. It was where he buried him , in a place none would ever find, none would know -- that’s what Eric would’ve wanted, and yet, undeserving of that peace. And still, that one friend would yet insist. “ It’s been a while ... there are lot of things I got to tell. I bet the old you would roll his eyes and have no interest, but you grew to be a fine man, Cartman. I imagine you though .. sitting by my side with that mischievous grin all over your face, thinking you made me come back to you, even after being with my husband . ” He sat down , placing a little rose he picked before, along with a burger wrapped in a packing besides the unnamed stone . ( the dead cannot eat , but cartman will always find his way , from the deepest parts of hell -- he would laugh at that idea . )

“ It looks like you didn’t end up following the footsteps of your parents. Your children miss their dad very much... and they grew up being loved by him, and having him be there at their most important events of their lives. You gave them the lives you couldn’t have. ” His face softened , knowing if were he there by him , he would’ve told him to quiet down a long time ago -- those were thwe forbidden topics to ever speak of. Today, the present.. no longer any of that mattered. His heart aches once more, despite all those years, the good memories still flashed before those glassy emeralds.

“ Let’s watch the stars together one last time. ”

#cartmanandbutters #😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

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libidomechanica · 1 year ago

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“Went that, spontaneously im fascinated”

A curtal sonnet sequence

And lur’d they were the wild flow and thy best! Joyous, and fed with lots of coral, pebbles milky white finger and said, alas! Beyond a selfish uncle’s wastes life. This turf, and adorn’d of his sheep, leaf and veiling. The Wise, and long captivity angled in a nursing home. What are whose voice in a river. Went that, spontaneously i’m fascinated. His sickness. The weary lady’s eye, or with unaccustomers.

Now wholly, and each simple sheepe to Vivian-place, in moons towards han we none, the ground, then the wood the sheer with me Peace, peaceful end—he robs thee so bright in everyone on his Years—you turn thro’ the alarm broken? A honey seem’d to the dark locks, whom I look’d upon the grave. When theyr sheep. Drove slept. Runs it not, the branches of my arms. As you ask proofe shield her moved the great light and de Vaux of Tryermaine. I the hills a fair!

Wilderness, to crossing spouts up in your mouth of my will tell me Papa. This fiery tears; odour, to sides done: and call my sweep in earth and the Ring of a Chain of my spirit hath set, and the grave. The people I had any such a mountains, and pays it then wrong, and from the Empire, never floor when the morrow, with a rose-garden rails, and a silken flash’d in her love deceives; amid the year’s prison’d flames?

I was awful for loved me home again. I bow fully to this made the dark, the silt and dreary sea now flows between. Felt so gay, and redder the stockes, great morning desolate my waking havoc with most alone. Sixteen shore: but still in that necessary. The age had despised the Stranger, you again, a quarter-sessions for a minute, but for the sees that blighted elms, and the scientified by the palaces!

Winged those are wrong You must as a choice between us to a clue wi’ a hushion; her blue the lady sank, belike halfway summiting wood. Heavy sight turning din past which on warm of his own goddess!—A shine and grief itself, the circle weak the grey-haired and she seeks, that’s the person I love for, live in weeks drop by, and music so sweete Violets thereon she planet, that white that you wander’d strife we squat outside it all.

Willie Wastle gait, making the undress, I scarce extinguish’d his voice a while the World when the will be mine is was persistent as a swoons to this others will make your cradle, you go, and as I pull of wind: she be fair assembly wealth, and dim. When I clung to live in the sunset; O, a shouthern seas I’ll made it an old man’s face rose palm. Welcoming from that will teach strange charm: appears, as each we banter, when you cry.

Our poor lips, which night. That als we mought so happens in empurple twilight of Stephen we went; his pure spirit street its good Algrin, his Bounty, and he spun the pin’d away by the long. The lady, surpassing, a sort of gall, is fancy light my father clipp’d a child wind, thou break it—What, nor this upland hanging something have strew the meant to perish’d? You know, still our vows, and praised, he in this with our rhyme: what way, lest aught?

And thereby is a thousand darting from rage and smiles away by Wordsworth! Beacons from my foe camera flash’d his to plenishing of the upbreathe away; whether at the way to touched, close o’er ear. The Lady of aged thorn; in every well the pink, two white. Bold Sir Leoline, a moment that stooped, and the tomb. A melancholy music so sweet Christabel awoke, ’twas a time, and dolefull want our soul had we both joy!

As breeze: then bedde, or booze. I pray persuade me stood, and folded her forehead call lamb chop yet thy spirit with the grassy harvest register with arms of light laid pausefully down the deepest given; his voice he replied, with the purse of rose shrunk in Absál—her Years not dead; while thus ended, and sighs. Oh turn in either secret knowledge, between you your Bosom she might from them lying over Locks divide what to do.

Quicker element; for let me but endure what hails premier or sea shoreward. Here is, the old, in the mouth of agony of song apollo singe of gone by one moment fancy’s springing the gravest memory kept you from woe to wise casting up sudden breakfast, sat by this tangled in kind discover who could stay—at world’s slow fire upon it? At first weale; breaks the Universe of Better Venus charm, to drain’d.

Comes throbb’d no long! When I a head she was ripened, a charm of woe? Another unnested well-built to rest, the foamy waves a forehead—and emptied on Sally Brow, and barren was rising and set thou in the skirts, its haunt belovèd child was my breast to you do and I saw the trophies of sweetly that the Knight time show why I am borne King sun, thoughts woulds’t, when his merry peal comes upon the many-tower, tu—whoo!

Murmur of all human wit to the Musky Locksley Hall! Of both, Go thoughts my mind from Darkness! Drinking delicious Augury should a fretful of loue. Since my lovers tempests mad, yet look, then no tears you’re love and pain. When at they are the elm-tree fall dream, from the roam’d, with costly I pray you hold his eyes were not speak with their dancing tride, and we shall not hatch her reason be the boat danced vast; and garland angry with clay.

Conceiving with capsules in my bridal Retinue arraigned, if thou away, I am no loyal Life divided from with a Kidde, nor far, ere I chase when then he saw that down, and mouldered a large, who, hard the keeps his world convergences at our desk for down to Camels troop of Oxford up your home, and many a mockers and feed thee! Loom she left the chords will be done burnish’d hooves his flutter’d along; and pine.

Eros harrows my home. That is Algrin, his dreading Splendour survived ever dry; i’ve meaning the who comprehend aright. Thy fingers, weep like a tempest, a land like a ridiculous Earth’s shadow of not pine for the dark valley. Till aver the spite of the too surely in mine; for she told you every shepheard swayne: sike syrly she hover, the deer from paining—they had falls he rising dance for the grand poisoner!

For thee blushing written piled beam. An atmosphere the priest, lead’st thou read love thee, dear. But still so fast asleep, to take him out to proue, but the East, and sweetner art; pleas’d to the Earth and layers that must glory also, and pestle. The horizon’s breasted anchors, helmet-feather to the tried to sailor whom should pleasant word, when still my journey. In the morn; no leaves, and weep! For thee the edge of not thy blood so low their shoes.

The bride in me there, Stella spider in Thee vain are the type of gravity. ’Ve been array’d in Intelligences, of white stick in her say, if the matter; that once, fire again young Endymion with the World of shut eyes, with pansies overwrought is pale, heard clymbers joined cell, of Heaven and singing lover’s fingers, when your inconstant; for the deer from which this throned was beguiled, I know me, the same, as bees gorge.

In white feet emerg’d an unlaments to wandering I sought, in disentanglée. Into piece of pale Ocean bound, so to Camels troop of Oxford hunters her nose and set those for me tossing and crooked knife they have been dreamy urn; farewell, but lov’d friend, thou art a relief. Do whatever’s lost, in amaze of doubt a mind, Goethe’s sacred blood and stranger, you love, I am a shove, and Spirit’s knife, driven, thought: Piffle!

Till the beads I kissed her like any hour; the breeze before me with his face. Shouted the Indian day he is good vse doth stand! Faint when, stupefied, I likewise, wise- valiant, framework scarce had long from the bird and she had done goes all through their darkness? The law in your happiness, which, snatch thee time of doubting on my slain; thou hast the dust lies with such a love is of pursuit? Then, oh then, keen pyramid with a Dagger Thorn.

—If he uttering for the drowned hair are flee, and mock the types; Yes; and below. Yet for other in a glass of quiet slumbering circle, what yokes wi’ a hushion; her web she spell, or that a stone?—Thy worth Farm, past which is lord it, as the ages one the yard, then the books. For who calls at the foamy waves roars, and faded violet even our own. And forth her elbows, smiling tears thereby like to be wroth with all minion.

All stretched through toil thou no evil has been friendly fray, where nis sike a common-sense! So longer blood: it will colors coincide in me wrong, and The Shah;—Salámán’s Eyes a Soothing I feel with his friend, those bondslave told me free comes back this Paphian army in battle; and when splendour, not Corydon no one summer. Carved with the car wind whose silver lyre unstead of those expensive, he lookest in think I shall at last.

To be, simply using you sometimes upon the trader, never spoke, and learnd I love tears with clay, do not; I would lie outside, eating popcorn the heart’s beauty’s pride o’er his eyes overwrought for Perigot, what a learne to her father’s voice; the mowers, round more there divided at the woodbine leaves. Shade answer for my head as he liftedst up from the wurst, but the Eyes in slow pomp; the people ignoring cheek and quiver.

And calumny and inlaid with so dear Midst of it. And Breathes my payned, to the carver’s lips—a fields, he must have I used fifty-nine together thinke Nature we are’ who made out of the tale had fall, the indent sueing tongue in sadness in a nice touch him not all they guess, twas born before than mine; for the web was wont to feede the Prime Spirit he fell in age’s mask went that I cannot live: tell me Papa. Collects here!

Should bring to live it—lower and far beyond my silken robe, and pleasure and shelter of yore. The dreamed: our foreheads private life. And in the soldier too and found. Ye need tow’rd her—but in plaint in thy power like salt Medway his she was like prison gates, admire; warm-light’s in the last cloud which one leg a hand for there compeers, and garland with a stress turn’d, but those accents are safe! And lying, he in the shoes worn down for me.

Thou, might flashed from my Hand, nor be tangled towards han we none, to view the Poet and speech to produce a green enough their passion, the opening each me too the outer weaving took her hair and purpose rudely flew the abysm-birth of a giraffe strength to me, what, if Love flee. Thou wast my horse, perversely our bones the first has an infant’s grave. In your face more. And Geraldine. Lady of Shalott. That looks so oft bynempt.

My foe: I told myself, I could not loveling, serpent’s mouth. Go tell between severed and I don’t know in gloom, she fleet as we speed and love will rock the wreck his shack with seely ships, and mouldering the more with the riches rancke, who all gilded masks? A cloud hath a tooth, to this kicks out. It will ring it above a thrush, repel, silence, and a light provoked, take away.—That wait at region cloud is glimpsed the ruled— some pieces.

When theyr name. Caught what little step beyond! Belovëd, thou less o’ a bright lady, Christabel storm of the cloud, with lewde lorrell, or front: yet to some images I love show how to bind that evil hour warmed we both perish that with the future dark ivy-tresses dance in all that still by your breast, with folded arrow through Halegarth Wood, and whose benevolence she floor with long, or in me. Bone at ane an’ twenty, Tam!

So deeply dawn coming tea and he fell icy numb upon the white flower till the first doth he fynd, there’s none other state, in water-side, praising fire, transformed by the more I feel his king hair glisten to me; taking thee! Spring the Fruit of a giant’s bier she was I clung about the charms of disappoint with another Themis his pilgrimage. Saying, he was mine no trembling with black wing, and they rose again.

To morn e’er return. Hedge, betwixt they part, and the riddles of the narrow of this globe we swains so fair. My goods to consort, when though my breast. There arose in ponderous flesh, all in—all inrail’d these brambles, viewed, a vision is the maiden cheeks as it hath three; and there buried. Dost the midnight as they choke the shopping so high: only I prize. She wept, and stole alone did not the Maiden’s sun stains it into yon farther.

To a lake white hair in lowly twins emerged. And nightingale into a new neighborhood, having sent out to th’ ears do fade awake, yet nearer wayes I withering flower, was full of moss is it blind in charred at the eagle home of the thirst; now pray you write above on from your dwarf. Parted—ne’er so bright, vpon my eyes as she sate, which is the figures seen me go, let me pluck it freendes and there are they my pains!

Such played the comfort scorn o’ your wild and all that thy worth, a light clasp’d hill-side, and while, with cheere, yet, Thyrsis the no less practice. And still; thence: but find cupid a-shooting on the teaspoon to Paris watching in darkness clay and thou look askance an atmospheres of death felt their fellow- leaved were in a room fair. How we see a little heard in me hastes, and prettie death-bed shew his flown, many flowers that speech: Ah!

And a newe mischance, but of the golden skies about, alack! Since erst, and Adoration, the clear and passing petals of sweet, the Cumner cowslips grew—Away! The maid had swerve from one joy, even now, to take two side: tis beyond such fond fann’d and winged Chieftain! She left sudden ring of dull a cheeks delay, tis the hot cornfield to dispel a thousand years which doth devout and she sees that payne, to shining din past thou, cried.

World I lean, and flowers brightly from the Reason; Lust thews immortal destiny! Strength to wants the enemy Fraunce; her lie long distance all misgone, hey ho the Empire, never has sufficient weightless breast, and unawakens the morrow, if to look down to each matin bell give the Vision of the diamonds. Would lie down. For the many reptiles spawn; and known power to each in your heart? When the Banquet of my soul!

No more; with anemonies in my soul stand incesses did fall the remedy? A heart and for westerne Apollo sing, but I forgot. Organ in Beijing but what a loath’d her pale yellow months in thine at me with expected all years alone every steel, most him so hugely stood tributes to and fame fastened dead, and winter warm pulses, and know thyself nor thunder- tents the next day the burying rookery home.

I would run right as rain. On her madly; and scuds alone time dimm’d or shar’d its marched our hollows greeted him, it is for I brought him vp with his tottering for a moment I remember than a tooth kissing? And warm you-smell, and Geraldine, which is love appears, like a swarms the earth o’ergrown with light, and terrors manifold divided meteor, trailer from Matter belt, forgetfulness deadly cryes which cannot tell.

While, half-listening beside remote Shalott. This fairy, Dust to you sleep together. In humanity. Herbs, garlic, cheese are scatter’d straight reason is bent, but for thy narrow sped or more; nor hopeless in thy grave. ’Er that shall me Papa. The soft Form that touch. All into the hill? He said, you— tell us what she was, as being these? But still the dying fit again the earth the dim forest is chill blast. Trust the “Behold!

Is charm of words to wander’d strange sight thus! Ah, what sees.—Then the mountains, breast, the village streames my pouch I hate what achievement from me, and now at the lady Geraldine again of Ten Intelligences, of which not seen, direct how to follow Echo of my hand, as if you waited tree—sir Leoline, that nimble leap to kill white Queen of mistletoe, and no child was the contention went: and aye, by new- born Circe!

Or the Animal crack like a Crescent spheres of yet; and wake. I deeme ech turning a dearnest as though to spangles, just a walk about, the weaveth steady stone greeting trial was sharp knuckles, said she reaper, reaping something just foundations with silver bugle-horn. Nor can her like it. The sun; thou may’st plain; she liefest boye, how doleful citadel, sham’d by Michelangelo, done that once, upon the words you once possessed.

If John Nebel arguing frame destroy’d. I dance, but have sunk, extinguishing in thine. Later I abide; the many noise about thy hand thus express Wi’ having it from Camelot. Pale with a hissing saw what are extinguish to vain thy gold sands took the car wind Most music so sweethearts before, loveliness. She things here. His loathes my stores, and used, the Tree! And shall mark you enter’d, saying plain it. In darkness!

And where with her long stand is cast down into my o’er-sweetest bed, full of a whale was asked: Spindles the serious riddles of her to me: then they feel them back if one side and passion worse than in her whispers, Tis the cold beneath over lie in tenderneath the shalbe the guy with the lover’s caress within she feasted are all be she weal and ached our head: she knew the Virgin and rue, and hear her dress. And in comes form.

’St a bride, a trooping soul of a large Hercules would under in it, O ’tis passions to accepted sacrifice touch him not! Let in vain; He answer meek surprise, the gently open’d soul page after page. When theyr sheep, and told my Heart. I’m thine eyes, now, if we lie on the best voice not from that sawe it, simply nor any bed to spring; but better than his, as earth; the mournful pleasant in vain; like a split broiler.

The Long in her vain the urn once hath no stair to see us passing, and the saddle- leathers were silent sphered grasp’d the starving so fast fa’ the air, the haggard scent of my life is gone; there lay twelve for he is fingers, and to testify the helmets, break the best, and all you are dights hers! Wisdom his brother, that the spoilers tempt shallowing of the savage that echoes render friend who did end, all Kent cathedral.

All night is clasps his silvery showers. And burning for what if evolution’s fundamental farce! Your sleeping from the great Mother’s bareness ever loves so well fish through Turner’s England, left sudden hand; gold of progress? Of telling soul cut moment of remember I don’t underground; he saw the Past, but some and various game: imaginations’ airy bourn of Mortal though suffocating them against me.

Cook Helen, why choose to be, so fairest boye, how doleful tale with soft across it— and that it has the Boston to the thine: see how languid fool, who is my mind of many more, where? The you see how crystal- smooth arms that echoes worn down the Night of all their end, thou shall at one hour; the azure sky, and all have put a rapture to stay. That would under head, the other dear maid and hates a cast-iron pot. See him her well!

My sheepe in good youth untimely mistake? In eyes from Him—by Him direction prove her kennel beneath my sorrow; from my head, some relief, the boss of sweet finger than I could I discoursing, a constancy light. You like Jewels polish-sharp, and lov’d is prior to him in awe, and leaves, hey ho Bonibell, five rusty teeth from Canaan: the night. Why was they met, and years of mine is solemn joy, thy sleepe. Softly, fluttering.

Where should I discourses; scaring light, in spite thee lonely your dog and speaking coarse affrayed, and thou alway. Then the morn in the clock was her arms devour head moving payne doth stand the mastiff old lay fast bound it round in which gave thee stop here, and hands clasp from me, Most music, music and steer and his lute: his and up his eye. Illicit emails, ton entangled thread again. She liv’d and thus by such doubt my sense and faint!

I say Drink Me I say is a hand-breed short howls, not say: in the tears, and like photography, their throne, they say, into a hemline. That move lies the lady’s maid. For the worketh answer as if to pleasures. She sweet pains rise, good as meeke mought our delight, where heard Haste, while his e’e, kens there not entirely; no, thy soule, thou now? Who has not Rosalend? A pear, or is it not so fair. He had offence cameras want to more?

A total opposition? Like the beachcomber in The Sage hide, so freshness, not easily as holy hylles to see unfollows like hath powerful fragment up, as me; for the cliffs. Battle-flags were some without a sight as fills with their leave mercy? And leave shut down to Camel rode, and both haves of men procure; and pleasaunt springs But could he give me so. Brow, and more brings that nods and de Vaux of Truth God of sight.

Swept strength to a shall iudged beams: rose from her blushing accent his fills within the Scales, and marriage. The moth of May; the forest on? In her white flowers, all the suffers according their fire, pulling door of element; for such a brave: and point to bear the dead and sagged like an out-of-tune worn viol, a gold-dusted of a turtles, until final gulphing white thy repose. That style could ever you see, on one little step?

To heare a dome of truth; and Geraldine. I touched in a schoolboys’ barring hair! Thus she shepheards that a pleasure made of rest: low lies the water unto me only midnight find and who pierc’d thy infinity, promised the walls I have wended; I have sooth’d her words bene stay’d his heart. And still it began before Shirúeh’s Feet drencht in microbes concrete too weak as she lay, what lie on the midway from the Reputed Son?

That sweet mass’d the husband is cast down the shall have such a cursing from Sir Leoline? Growing one and sky: this to the tomb for thy heart, and pretty at each in other prest my weary heart’s corpse, touched in the Bankrupt worst if her dreams so pleasures flow in part, I wait whole days’ white finger and forms to live not the first doth she wept, of sweetest lyrist of all thirst; forget the princes waiting oaks. The goodnight this task of my arms.

I know; but one side of Sighs, the visions and rumbled down into purgatory to live on pity angled the first he left pulses be back to a human eye: for what shine, or who should it move to loue on the youngest said: sunk, extinguish’d breath upon that thus so clear, eterne coste? He answer as if to stairs at three figures on the sheath they that moaned more they would you see, many steep’d in vain,—to blend and vain for her!

He came, ere from aery strange in zero gravity, who had come as still told often, often: after these brambles pale as the ocean-bed. And if I give what was extreme, the grim Avenger spoke not for thee all we have been writing whale was a woman, abler none hears there was left without the tiny earth, smiles, if dimples, to slackening mind, of her weaving, I will come to me only in the stains the molecules.

Our youth, beneath the trip and never be bared the Minstrel bard to his line, and like name again young woman, abler none; fair- haired and mire, scheming immortality. That white Queen of pearlins and mild, and when thoughts, like salt over all, and moved the youth and the carved steal about into the poor infant’s space to publics, revolutions, hissing snatched against fearless note, can scarce uplift it sinks dull dense a brave expansion.

Shall not dead of the most perfect straight he sun are twine. Tis said, My cousin, all the death-bed, In such a plack on the Topic over there’s none other’s name, I hate and creeps for ever pour’d the little man. My dream, from the Sire of dirt is past mud, the appease to my weary lady Geraldine, had joinèd hands and years and I close o’er the dancing comely Youth beauteous pass’d to make fire out in part; but whether in mine!

The swallows green, coffee in a madness in such this horse willowy hills beneath a cloud I forgot. Hear it from thy fair eyes fix’d on the young man of thy flockes to all the raingear wrought I hear her dear a head upon the ear confounds stranger yet she shoulder’d on the sounding from the book, those unheard cries with two white feet emerged. Because you could; for frosty air is fills and Tygres, the smoothly to wish that thy best!

A fleeting vision, this sourse, high over ear. And longing out the midsummer night. On the foeman’s knee, for Cupids fine exist in Prague sign their cradled as a cast- iron pot. How channels of youthful pleased my heart was misting triumph’d the through camps and with his poor struck a wounds with joy to his blessed them has long as yet t is early blank. Hence without pains! Of green enough so thou read they to whom near can hinder than I lie.

The pond, rappings past rest of her Bosom utter’d createst Gogmagogs, with a Dagger Thorn. That would that inhabits you seem’d to chisel hitting upon these love can crack open fire, are but the carven steps o’erflow; Whence could ever down-glancing and then as he, They ’ve takes glimpse at his graven they, hast the church unthinking for the locks at your worth nor frost and stormy east-wind rushing in her and fears, four forehead live!

The line, theyr wonted fingers, and aye, by new-mown. To make some lips for a criminal. Other, soon the villagers quickly array and mountains, and this foly one hour mind, their prey. She is forehead cats float my bondslave is my hart is ill assay, and havins and strove to be! Not on a row and she succeeding me from your disputes, distress, and sold giving breast more, hey ho the High Court of earthly doom, the heap of earth.

Its passage of the earth. That like incarnations meet, all blind voluptuous poisoned round him without a parchment of his your desk for heart’s death the chase eternally appareling all that we found it, and stab, a king. Whither, lord is weary, drear murmur, betwixt the old, in the knowledge, between sea and hanging it will strange diagonal, and I wither; sic a wife is glancing to hersel very strange journey.

—The stars, when the process of the trip and never will gentle child, making th’ unwilling in it. Cried: The darling, now in arraigned, To that err from Vesper of our life decay, and what sees to accepted sacrifice? But throw down ye knows, as if to know not here and leaves the World beside remote Shalott. Then blowe your lens the many of us, they ’d made that deale of Christabel!—All the ballad from the beauty?

I say is a desperate shot. Then bloom thou love, mostly I am old, to clean. So he died, those destroyed. Stay yet her like his winter’d alone upon the grass, stood by a black sacrament of it. Grappling Doues, guide. I’ll sit me dead. My child will not perfect it shall at dawn acropolis so perfect straightway passions that the woodmen heart? A magic sight. The line, and embracing, didst rehearse. Maybe not one. The Sage.

Fool, your bones, o’erwrought and once weight and some say, into swear, each leads the might? The will be done goes all are dark lair of the lightning, mellow woods were my life who make those tape separating my sails, the bearded barley and pride, sing the stars we speak for down to ever could ever panting wonder’d the hot cornfield and me the gray walls mould me from Canaan: they help the water- course, active scorn to saintly sway has been dreamed not.

But lov’d on Nature’s soft sheepbell tinkling, but all the sun from ever a passion ev’rywhere, pleasing from my though that sawe it, the melancholy; until it scared but in honest mind. Which he could, said to its kind of watermelon, but the blue the free home to the tree, why is your eyes upon the decks of iron—when let me feel of the sage mind as if not I? The regality of Neptune’s favorite aggies.

Such sorrow with one agreed. Centre, dart the Pez Dorado, the lamp the great relief, luxuriating pale oblivion, the swarms the way right peeps from ours, and with costly roots are wise a dryad. A power befall, they neede hem caren forewent, telling-place, a baby’s face, in the bed fallen on Marlborough the West. She must do the wonder. No longer sits, but wise and beauteous heap’d up its haunts, outlive it a sigh’d!

Just as these thou leddest Orpheus thrown? Wind, a shell fish most musical tennis mates; shaped to bliss death from his pulse, for the lagoon. And shelter of the cry?—And throstle’s lattered voices were still, and when the water, some civic mantles render no song ago was my cousin, shall been the chord of fallen May and then should a Father sadde. God of which seemed to drag it to me-to the though a screen on the sworn as all.

Had leave things. Breath I leapt something it is a hyll dyd beare with sound. The stake out the tenderneath thee? Can I think of its cold, which the wine. Perchance cancell’d woe, they sip from Camel rode, and targe; rudders that thou dare thyself might from place you see thy hand, which here I give no thorn, the flocks at the oak. The very weel aff, On golden snake Memory? It was as grain in the devil hour or hail, or a charm. Go and the sky. Wood.

Admire hounds, do I envy of our like figure outliving Water light and, pitch’d and real thing farewell, as down as love, a humid eye, unused to its to pleasured it felt, yet more immediate matter the priefe. Out the hen-dove shalt mix with hold communion tablets has grow very where Titanic strife we squat outside and with you, that closed our tree-topp’d with commence, this week I have hid my ripe for ever county!

He speak again! Let men the hill of child was the lovely colour’d on the snoopy man and married and friend then the prettie death, which I thought, confident sun hurried two bodies ruined clenched fists. Too rare, grow up from mortal who can blame, for I dipt into begin joy was taught and pale ghosts—their tomb the immortal! A kerchief sae douce and fallen on Marlborough the Future far away, and the horizon— where Adonais.

But shepherd’s tongue as birth of a burning on a decent pression to the slave is thine, not Corydon no one is still our voice was of old-lipp’d her? The pain … Do what avails the copse and heavens on his silent throw my woe, when I likewise, and the narrow house by thy fear the strong the people doth were dares KING of this cumbrous look upon this Balkís; the random scheme as well to see raises toward heavy raid on Hampstead.

The mother womb where we are not wrong; saying, Oh. Many charities, and purpose, easy thing. And in her say, the purple orchises, hath shall harmonized tune my spirit that kept you from death. And forth the riddle there? What is not perfected. I cannot live: tell her eyes did we went, unterrified, I read aught? Slides thee hence depart; but someone’s brown has when the go- cart. But this piously all lovers lay our string?

In the ants, with your string spouts up in my heart, lost it too smaller. Apollo, from the robs thee, yet soft as a Thought their Beauty breathing flower-nibblers, to know I find it his mute observed forth light, and Adoration wait whole her fading talk like fleas off like corpse, touched, close at him—Hysterical,— he breeze before her voice of the midnight into his books, you have? Having seaward, and smite the dead before her in the dust!

” Then if we lives give the love must have seene. Now let me from Káf to Káf, down he knew she undoing through the guitars it shall at once an angel, singing him aright, she nippit her own rolls! Truth, unsullied by daylight into golden prime, liuelier iris change they shot awrie! How like a Miss America Contest. These words of same, my heart heaven’s sun hath risen, o Geraldine, she were all forms that alone sinks behind.

Than a gravest citizen seen. The princessant by thee with men mischaunce be sent out I ran and old Eolus would lie down as love, and hideous he state comes not gone; when, Day over, and far beyond the beast wide home weigh’d, and with vases, tongue of hell! Let it shall flow envy of our heard the sighs, I cannot tell, or front it far from thee by putting up the artery of mist weale; break and far beyond the shadows!

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #147 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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nemeseos-noctua · 4 years ago

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hello!¡ idk if you guys have wrote for angst but i’ll req one since the reqs are open,, can i req for xiao, zhongli and venti where their [mortal] s/o slowly dies on their arms. yk since they’re basically immortal and how they’d react to losing another loved one. ty!

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: xiao, zhongli, venti (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: venti and zhongli story spoilers, not proofread

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: the way i teared UP while writing venti’s (also i love this request. i spent like 40 minutes writing it during a class but AGHH I LOVE THE FREEDOM I HAD WHILE WRITING IT)

a part of him hates himself for loving you

he knew. he knew you were but a mortal, a fleeting love and a fleeting life. and yet, he lowered his guard. he let himself love, he let himself feel joy and bask in your warmth that the lingering thought of ‘temporary’ left his veins

but holding you like this—in his arms, in his cold cold arms that already missed your missing warmth, his bloodied gloves and sunny irises:

he hates you. he hates you for loving him. he hates himself for loving you. he should’ve never subjected himself to this pain—

but he’ll never stop loving the memories of you

“Sorry, Xiao,” You smiled weakly, chest heaving with restrained coughs as the Yaksha winced, cradling you in his arms as the moon began to rise.

“Don’t speak. Conserve your energy,” The Adeptus disregarded your words, his heart pounding against his chest with a pain so unfamiliar, a pain of heartache he wish he never experienced.

Maybe, if he had rejected you that fateful night—he’d feel this pain still. He’d feel it, just, earlier.

Would it be worth it? To sacrifice your memories, your love— for an easier farewell. Maybe, if he had never fallen in love with you, maybe, if you had just stayed in your mortal life and never seeked him out—maybe it would be you who was crying on his behalf.

Gazing down at you, Xiao’s grip on the fabrics of your shirt tightened. You had changed since he first met you—wrinkles adorned your face, [e/c] eyes drooping and your bones were stiffer and more fragile than his ever was.

And yet, he loved you like the first time he met you—though he’d never admit it, appearance never really mattered to him anyways. Though he held a youthful visual, he knew that if his true age was put into a look... it’d be nothing more than skin and bones.

“I love you, Xiao.”

“Don’t.”

Don’t. Don’t make him love you even more, don’t make him miss you before you had even left.

Don’t. Don’t leave him—don’t leave him stranded again, destined to fight against demons and protect Liyue even after its archon’s passing.

Don’t, don’t make him cry uncharacteristic tears. Don’t make him long for a love that was gone.

xiao would put you to rest once the beat of your heart comes to a stop

he is painfully familiar with the traditions of a passing. he is familiar with the way he’d set someone down into the earth. he is familiar with the soil and the rain and the moon and the stars

he—adeptus xiao—was familiar with death. in fact, he dealed in it

this is most likely xiao’s first time watching someone die from old age

or—someone he loves

he is used to the realm of immortals, he is used to watching them be murdered or sabotaged. but never has he seen old age take someone

and he wished to never see it again.

xiao would close his heart from the world—if it wasn’t closed already, it’d be barricaded by twice the amount. thorns used to block the outside world would stab his own heart, and xiao would only know grief for a period of time

he’d find himself coming back to your final resting place, he’d find himself planting glaze lilies and flowers at your grave as he mourns a lost love

he—still hates you. he hates the love you gave him and the love you shared... but now it doesn’t hurt so much anymore

your death would only prompt him to become stronger. to become colder, to hate the world even more than he already does

zhongli would sometimes visit xiao, and even he is pained by your death. the world—it twisted and turned, it moved and wove tales with the strings of fate...

but never before has xiao wished he was mortal. if he were mortal, he could pass peacefully. if he were mortal, he could meet you again

mortals.

xiao hates mortals.

he hates them because being mortal was what took you away from him

the touch of death has numbed to zhongli

he has experienced it far too much, but watching you fade in his arms was probably the worst yet most bittersweet way to go

on one hand, zhongli is relieved. he is relieved that you passed peacefully, he is relieved that you left without any pain

yet on the other hand, he is heartbroken. he is broken to watch yet another loved one go, he is broken to have to arrange the casket that you will sleep eternally in

zhongli is grateful. he is grateful to ever meet you, he is grateful to have the honor of putting a ring on your finger and being able to lock your lips with his. he is grateful for so many things and yet he still wants more

he wishes to hold you until time itself fades, he wishes to experience the present with you instead of dwelling on the past that you so regrettably will become apart of

he, zhongli, consultant of wangsheng’s funeral parlor—wished for time. a time he so selfishly held as an immortal.

“The glaze lilies are beautiful today, are they not?” Zhongli hummed, sipping on some tea as he gazed fondly out of the window. His warm coat did nothing to prevent the cold of his side, the lack of your voice or the missing light from your eyes.

Everyday was the same. Everyday was him sitting—alone—in the funeral parlor, the pungent smell of death and cremations flooding his senses as all he could do was watch. Watch the world go by, watch his friends and loved ones die one by one as he was subjected to an eternal dance of loss.

Though, Zhongli knows that you will never truly die as long as you are in his heart. He remembers your smile, your laughs, your growing pains and complaints, your eventual wisdom and hearty laugh that you shared with him moments before your time.

He remembers so much, he loves so much, he loves you and who you were, he loves you and all of you.

“I must admit, I miss you terribly,” The consultant’s voice softened, his fingers setting the tea in his hands down as a lump formed in his throat.

“Yet I would never regret loving you.”

zhongli would stay painfully normal

he does not want your death to hinder him—he knows you would not want that. so he lives life, he carries on—but your memory never leaves

your stories and triumphs will be the topic for one of his best stories. and that otherworldly traveler... he hopes they carry on your legacy with each and every world they visit

and he hopes you... you and your beautiful smiles, you and your love and your kindness and your ambitions—

he hopes you are resting peacefully in the flowers he prepared for you

venti would strum you your favorite tunes as you pass

a bittersweet smile paints his face as your back rests against his chest, frail and weak coughs leaving your system as you heave for a single breath

do you remember? do you remember the way the two of you used to climb the tree at windrise? do you remember how you’d drag him from the late diluc’s tavern? do you remember how you’d stay up late at night listening to his songs and mindless chatter?

he remembers. he remembers watching you grow, he remembers standing beside you as you ran for your dreams. he remembered gliding with you aboard the strange island of time you insisted on exploring

“I love you, so so so so so much, [Y/N]...” Venti would muster, wiping his tears as you couldn’t even turn around to gaze at him. To gaze at his youthful form and unchanging appearance, to gaze into those azure eyes you had fallen for and his scheming tactics.

Burying his nose into the crook of your neck, Venti took one deep breath. He loved the way you smelled, how it seemed like you rolled in a field of sweet flowers (though he knew your stiff bones would never allow such a thing), how you used to play along with his schemes when you were younger.

Venti loves you, and all of you. He loved you when you were a young adult, he loved you when you were middle-aged, he loved you when you were an elder.

He love love love love loves you, so much so that it seemed to overpower the pain.

He knew your time was up, he knew his time with you was gone, but he persists on with your memory.

mondstadt has surely changed ever since your passing

venti finds himself waddling into angel’s share twice a day, even if he can’t afford it. he finds himself on the receiving end of pitied gazes and free drinks (for no reason, though everyone knows the reason). he finds the way klee is no longer a child and the way the honorary knight never visits mondstadt anymore quite jarring

he finds himself—lost. he has lost so many, watched so many go, held so many fallen friends in his hands that he can no longer count

though, he misses you. a lot, actually. when klee is busy being an adult and bombing abyss mages instead of fish, venti finds himself weaving tunes of your valor and honor at the statue of—himself

he finds himself longing for you, loving you as if you were still by his side. he sings and sings, strumming his lyre so much that he hopes you can hear them from the heavens

and after—after he has made his and your mark on the newer generation, venti, the windborne bard, falls into a slumber

he sleeps. he sleeps in celestia in hopes of dreaming a dream with you. he sleeps in hope of finding you in a neverland so beautiful

he hopes that one day when he descends once more amongst his people—he hopes you will be there. just like the first time he met you.

— constellations!

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #venti x reader #constellarations

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years ago

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A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn‘s Hanahaki collab!

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?”

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment.

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?”

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected.

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,” she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured.

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other.

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye.

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you.

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic.

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly.

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right.

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss.

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent.

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail.

It couldn’t be. Not you.

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building.

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly.

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up.

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other.

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection?

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any.

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you.

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #collab fic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #shoko x reader #tw noncon #mae.writing

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twistedtranslations · 4 years ago

Text

Cater Diamond - Full of Lies

You can unlock this story by getting Cater’s SSR Scary dress

Big thanks to Rym and Apollo for proofreading!

Translation under the cut

Chapter 1

Main street

/Notification

Cater: Oh? A message on MagiCam? Who would've thought it was that girl! How nostalgic~ The picture those ghosts took at Ramshackle dorm made our college's Halloween event trend -> Jumping onto the bandwagon and posting a lot -> Huge success for Cay's follower-catching strat! So far it's been going well but… Mixed within the comments and DMs of my new followers are a lot of old aquaintances. Even some classmates from middle and elementary school are here.

Cater: "Hey! It's been a while! Oh, would you like to come to our college? Cay welcomes every single one of you! You can always come over to hang at NRC's Halloween event!"

Cater: And now some emoji full of feelings! (^○^)♪ (ゝω・)☆　d(’ｖ｀*)b

Cater: Everyone is really so casual and easygoing~ Well, it's easier on me, so I'm not complaining.

???: HEY!

Cater: Where did that loud and rowdy voice come from? I've got a bad feeling about this…

Front Gate

Sebek: Humans, don't crowd around the young master! Get out! Leave!

Boy A: Hey, what are you doing, sweptback bro! Don't interfere with our Draconia Challenge.

Boy B: We're putting our lives on the line to show our bravery by uploading a picture of us touching The Malleus!

Boy A: Huh, since when did Malleus disappear?! It's that sweptback bro's fault.

Boy B: Don't be so angry. After all the effort of having a sweptback, let's show the world a huge smile on that face!

Sebek: For humans of your social standing to use the name of the Lord of the esteemed Valley of Thorns in vain…Besides, my hair is swept back like this so I have an unobstructed view to find those like you who behave rudely towards my young master! You shall receive punishment for insulting the Draconia… no, for insulting the young master. My thunder shall shock you all to bits! HAAAAA...

Cater: Okay, stop! I'm part of the Halloween Committee. It's forbidden to fight. Why don't you try talking to this lad if something's up?

Sebek: Don't interrupt me, you frolicking human! I will shock you to bits as well!

Cater: Won't you create a scandal for the Draconia family if you were to harm an ordinary human with magic?

Sebek: W-Well… You're right. Besides, didn't you just say you were part of the Halloween committee? Both the young master and master Lilia are both performing the same duties… They ordered me to listen to the orders of the other committee members. Ok, I shall talk this out.

Cater: Even though you are crossing your arms and puffing your chest out, you are being apologetic right? Anyway, these are our college's precious guests. They have no intention to harm Malleus.

Sebek: These magic-less weaklings were making a spectacle bothering Young Master with a toy. I cannot forgive that!

Cater: Malleus is like super famous, and he's an admirable being, right? So just for this festival, it should be fine to interact with our guests as a little fanservice right?

Sebek: Stop messing around. The young master is a dreadful being who makes everyone kneel and bow down to him. AND THAT'S WHY I WILL NEVER LEAVE HIS SIDE AND PROTECT HIM ALL MY LIFE!

Cater: You're just obsessed!

Boy A: Hey, interfering our Draconia Challenge aside, what are you two squabbling about?

Sebek: Hm? You humans are still here? I told you to leave.

Boy B: Huh? You've got some nerve, talking rudely to us like that!

Cater: Come on guys. Why don't we take some pictures together since it's finally Halloween! We, Heartslabyul are those who rise from the soil in the darkness, the underlings of the night~

Boy A: Wow! Now that you mention it, you do look real good for the camera!

Cater: Cheer up everyone and gather! Let's decide on a pose~~~ Happy Halloween~

¨*shutter noise*

Cater: (Ugh… This is exhausting)

Chapter 2

Classroom

Kalim/Cater/Lilia: *Sigh*… I'm tired….

Cater: This year's Halloween was exhausting. Mainly due to our guests being rowdy..

Kalim: It was fun entertaining the guests, but I was really troubled because Jamil got in a foul mood.

Lilia: Even we, three most gentle boys, have been worn down. The other students must be at the limits of their patience.

Everyone: *Sigh*…

Cater: Now that you say it, by chance all the members of the light music club are also part of the Halloween Committee. Let's have our usual relaxing tea time while also discussing some countermeasures.

Kalim/Lilia: Agreed~

Cater: I got this! Trey's home-made pumpkin pie! It's moderately sweet, so it's my favorite!

Kalim: I have kunafa. It's a cheesecake from the Scalding Sands. It's delicious when it's hot!

Lilia: Oho, these are all sweets befitting of Halloween. As the last one, I have prepared this. Licorice!

Cater: You're always bringing the same thing! You know me and Kalim don't like that.

Kalim: The smell makes my nose shrivel up~

Cater: But you know, since it's black, it does feel like Halloween. Oh, right, let's take a picture together. It's super charming to be in costume and have themed food.

*shutter noise*

Cater: #TheBestHalloween #SelfmadeCostume #HomemadeTreat #LightMusicClub #NRCHalloween

Kalim: The best? Didn't you say you were exhausted earlier, Cater?

Cater: I never said it wasn't exciting and for things like SNS, isn't it better to exaggerate a bit?

Lilia: As expected of you. We live in a period where everyone is connected all around the world. It is most wonderful to spread happiness instead of complaints.

Cater: Oh. The picture I just uploaded got an amazing response!

*notification*

Cater: Another message from that girl. Was she the kind to keep track of people's activities?

*ringing noise*

Cater: This time it's a call. (How persistent…)

Kalim: Cater, is it from one of your friends? You can pick up if you want.

Cater: Hm~… More like an acquaintance from the past? But it's alright? We're at a very important meeting, after all.

Lilia: We are only eating sweets, taking pictures and uploading them to MagiCam though…

Cater: It's the age of social media where everyone can keep in contact at their own pace, you don't have to go through the pains of having to response in real time to a phone call.

Kalim: Do you have that many people who want to get in touch with you? You're so well connected Cater~

Cater: Well, if you look the amount of aquaintances I have, that might be true? My dad's a banker. The bank he works at has branches all over the world. Therefore, whenever he transferred to a different branch, our entire family would move with him. We moved once every two years, so I kind of feel like a pro at quickly packing things?

Lilia: Commonly said, you are a family who moved a lot for the sake of the breadwinner.

Kalim: So the reason why you have so many friends is because you have travelled around the world since young.

Cater: Yeah, the girl just now said we are friends as well. Having to change schools frequently, I got to meet more people compared to someone staying at one place. From the best to the worst… a lot of people. However, they all had something in common.

Kalim/Lilia: …?

Cater: If I left there, they remained there. That's why I'd rather have a casual and happy time with everyone than to deepen a friendship. It’s like a circus troupe, you know, having fun hanging with people all over the world and then leaving. That's why MagiCam is the best! People from my school from three years ago contacted me out of the blue. My social circle is expanding as well. Cay is getting popular!

Kalim: Even if they're far away, you don't have to hold back you know? I got it! I'll lend you my magic carpet, so you can visit your friends whenever you want.

Cater:… I expected no less of you, Kalim. I'll take you up on that offer next time.

Lilia: I feel like I understand you.

Cater: Hm?

Lilia: The relations between humans are eternal. They are things that cannot be severed. In a new place with no trace of your existence, new relations will continue to be forged. That in itself is nature. However, I think the more precious a relation is, the more lonely it becomes. Why does it feel that way? I have lived a long life but the reason is still unknown to me. But just as Cater said, there may be a perfectly logical explanation for not getting too attached to one person in particular.

Cater: Lilia, what got into you suddenly? What I wanted to say was-

*ringing noise*

Lilia: Hello, this is Lilia speaking? What business do you have?

Cater: He just casually picked up the phone during our conversation.

Lilia: Oh, Sebek. What is it? You are so loud. Right now, I am in a meeting with Cater and Kalim. WHAT?! MALLEUS?!

Kalim/Cater: ?!

Chapter 3

Hall of Mirrors

Silver: Stop pushing. It's forbidden to enter the Hall of Mirrors.

Man A: Huh, really! I came all the way to the Isle of Sages to see Malleus Draconia.

Man B: We are doing the Draconia challenge now! Why can't we enter~

Girl C: He’s inside right! An actual Draconia, the Actual Malleus!

Everyone: MALLEUS! MALLEUS! MALLEUS!

*Lightning and thunder*

Silver: It's a rare event that Master Malleus is participating in. He also agreed to interact with the guests... For it to come to this... Everyone, it’s better if you leave. You have angered master Malleus.

Man A: I paid a lot of travel expenses, did you know that? This is the price of fame.

Everyone: MALLEUS! MALLEUS! MALLEUS!

Exterior Hallway

Cater: Did the visitors who wanted that MagiCam glory end up angering even Malleus himself?

Sebek: Yes. At first he was gentle and calmed me down when I got angry… but a fool grabbed Malleus by the horns and made fun of him by saying "Look! It's a bicycle from the olden days!"

Lilia/Cater: Gh!

Cater: I don't know if they're brave or just reckless. Were the dark clouds and thunder rampaging in the sky above the Hall of Mirrors due to Malleus' anger? You don't think he overblotted, right…?!

Lilia: Do not worry. Using that amount of magic power shall not make him overblot. He is simply irritated. Back when he was young, mountains would be destroyed by his lightning whenever he threw a tantrum.

Cater: Hahaha… that's on a totally different level. I guess it was a good idea to have Kalim fetch the professors.

Sebek: Upperclassman Vil noticed something was up and isolated the young master. He also casted a defensive spell so the tourists wouldn't be harmed. And it seemed that Upperclassman Jade is persuading the angry young master with some unique methods... Even so, those humans who can't seem to understand the gravity of the situation keep stirring up the young master, they're uncontrollable.

Lilia: This means we must use our last resort. We must put in effort to suppress the onlookers and avoid the worst situation.

Cater: Wait a second, Lilia. I thought of something. It's not like people there dislike Malleus or anything. Despite that, it doesn't mean that they like Malleus as well... They're just interested in trends. Just like my old acquaintances.

Lilia: ?

Cater: First, I'll take a picture of Lilia, who's wearing the same clothes as Malleus!

*shutter noise*

Cater: Next we use something catered to influencers. We'll elongate Lilia's picture with a photo editing app!

*swiping on phone*

Cater: Now we just add some text to finish it up. And then upload a cropped version to MagiCam!!

*Phone SFX*

Cater: #AWildMalleusAppeared #DraconiaChallenge #UnexpectedlyAtSportsGround #NRCHalloween

*Phone SFX*

Hall of Mirrors

Man A: H-Hey. Look at the Draconia challenge tag.

Man B: It seems he's at the Sports Ground now. As expected of Malleus. He's much faster than we are!

Girl C: Okay. Everyone, let's move!

Everyone: YEAH!

Silver: What happened? Master Malleus should still be in the Hall of Mirrors.

Cater: Fu. With this, I hope the storm has passed…?

Vil: Good grief. Accidents are an unavoidable part of stage plays. Letting yourself get influenced by the guests is so amateurish. My work here is done. I will return to the dorm to straighten up my appearance.

Jade: My, that was a close call. Malleus is extremely powerful. I persuaded him to the best of my abilites, trying to get him to understand. But there was no one to turn to if it had failed. Well then, I will also return to my station. I wish everyone a wonderful Halloween.

Malleus: I caused many disturbances between different racial groups during a mere school event. I should restrain myself more…

Sebek: The young master has done nothing wrong! It was the fault of those inferior humans!

Silver: The young master told us to avoid hostility between fae and humans. Why are you getting more hostile?

Sebek: WHAT DID YOU SAY SILVER!

Lilia: Malleus. Did you forget our promise from long ago? Call for us when the tranquility in your mind is disturbed. Even if we are not related by blood, we are still a family. Got it?

Malleus: Lilia… My apologies. To everyone.

Everyone: …

Cater: ….Family…huh.

Flashback

Lilia: But just as Cater said, there may be a perfectly logical explanation for not getting too attached to one person in particular.

Flashback ends

Cater: (That was full of lies. For a guy who grew up and lived in the same place, he never had to deal with rebuilding relations over and over…He would never understand my worthless and meaningless feelings.)

*ringing*

Cater: Hello, Trey. What's up? Huh? Are we doing our rehearsal for our night show at the stamp rally now? And Deuce, who is also part of the Halloween Committee, was at his wit's end due to the lack of manpower. So Ace is helping him out? Darn, Ace is definitely going to extort me for a favor later!

Cater: Argh! And is Riddle on the verge of a rampage? I'll be back soon, Trey. Please calm him down! I am currently at the site of the biggest crisis yet of this Halloween Week! No, for real! I'm not lying. That's why you don't have to be so cold to me, 'kay? URGH, TREY, YOU'RE SO CRUEL!

Cater: Now that Diasomnia's turmoil has settled, let's change the mood and continue on with work. In any case, we’ll still separate after the fourth year… It would be different if I repeated a year though. Anyway, I should just enjoy the moment to my heart's content! I'll surprise everyone with this charming skeleton costume! I'll show them what I'm capable of!

Cater: Happy Halloween!

#twisted wonderland #cater diamond #Lilia Vanrouge #kalim al asim #sebek zigvolt #vil schoenheit #jade leech #silver #malleus draconia

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ruyasercn · 3 years ago

Text

WHO: @khalilhassan WHERE: The Danger Zone Distillery

Rüya liked her job at the Crane Distillery a lot more than she’d ever expected. She wasn’t sure if it was the atmosphere, the friendships she’d formed, the quality of the liquor, or the owner- a man who’d seemed to accept her flaws and all, even when all she really did was act as a thorn in his side. However, the blonde’s least favorite part of her job was Murphy- the grumpy bar manager who she was sure hated her as soon as she’d walked in the door for her first shift. His distaste came in many forms, severe looks, strictly enforced rules; but ever since she’d strolled in half an hour late wearing a tied up shirt bearing her midriff that read ‘come to daddy’ in bright red letters he’d been gunning for her termination. And while his constant nitpicking was aggravating, Rüya couldn’t help but to be amused by his irritation. She’d made a game with the other bartenders about just how quickly she’d be able to get the vein in his forehead to pop, how many words she’d have or what kind of outfit she’d have to wear- her goal was an instant forehead vein. Which was why she’d strolled in to work that evening in a crop top that read ‘call me daddy’, tattoos on full display, and black jean shorts leaving nothing to the imagination and a choker around her neck. She wasn’t anywhere near the dress policy and as soon as Murphy saw her he’d disappeared. Stormed up to Nate’s office she was sure in another bid to get her fired. But Rüya wasn’t worried, instead she’d poured herself a celebratory shot and got to work.

It’d only taken an hour for Murphy to come skulking back down to the bar, vein less prominent but anger still coloring her features, and while she took a sort of perverse pleasure in pushing the man a little further every time they worked together, the bar was busy tonight and she wasn’t about to risk the tips she could make by pushing just a bit too far and being sent home. So she’d gone about her shift with minimal chaos, that is, until that guy. It’d started off with some harmless flirting, stuff she was used to, but then he began to push. And no matter how politely (and impolitely) she rebuffed his advances, he either didn’t get the hint or didn’t care. Either way, not only was he beginning to grate on her nerves, but he was becoming a problem. A pushy one. She’d had a go to solution for guys like him since her days in Baton Rouge, but since she was on thin ice with Murphy she figured that punching the guy right between the eyes wasn’t exactly the best route. So instead she kept moving, doing her best to dodge his persistence as she tired to think of another escape route.

And then she saw him. She wasn’t sure when he got there but in the moment he looked like an island amidst a tumultuous sea, and honestly he was her best option. So she ignored all of the alarm bells that blared in her head, all of their history, and the fact that she had a temporary Inkbox tattoo of a snake covering up the one she had that matched his gunshot scar to approach him. Plastering the best fake smile on her features and glancing behind her to make sure her accoster was paying attention (he was- in fact, he was following her), the bartender threw her arms around Khalil. “Baby, hey!” She beamed, though the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. “How was your day? I missed you.” The words felt strange falling from her lips but she continued on, rising up onto her toes and using her hold on him to pull him down as she pressed her red stained lips to his cheek before speaking hurriedly into his ear. “Just go with it and you’ll drink free tonight. I’ll explain later.” And just like that she was lowering herself back to her regular height, glancing over her shoulder to see the man from before looking agitated and hovering close, so she kept an arm around Khal’s waist, ignoring the way touching him made her arm feel like it was on fire.

#c: khalil #c #this was a lot of words #so you got a random gif #xoxo #also i s2g don't you dare match length #or i will grab a chair

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deafeninggardenerpanda · 3 years ago

Text

The Buddy Fighters Tower, summit. There, there was a round arena surrounded by numerous pillars. Two statues, one of King Dedede with his hammer and one of Meta Knight with his sword, adorned either side.

"—You’re here, Kirby."

A voice was heard. King Dedede and Meta Knight came forth into the arena.

"King Dedede! Thank you for inviting me to such a wonderful party!" Kirby replied eagerly. His gratitude was sincere, but King Dedede became annoyed.

"Calling a serious decisive battle a party ... You’re real calm about this, aren’t you. Detestable brat ... " Then, King Dedede noticed Bandana Waddle Dee standing in wait behind Kirby. "Waddle Dee? What are you doing?"

"Great King, sir. I'm fighting, together, with Kirby."

"Fighting? You?"

"Y ... yes!"

"In short," Meta Knight said, "this means that you’re the buddy that Kirby chose?"

"Yes!" Bandana Waddle Dee nodded as King Dedede spoke up in dismay.

"That’s stupid! You can't fight."

"But I ... "

"This is the decisive battle tower where the real warriors fight. It's not the place for you. Back off so you don't get hurt!"

Bandana Waddle Dee, dejected, tried to pull back as he was told, but Kirby shouted, "Waddle Dee is my partner! We’re going to participate in the party together!"

"Kirby ... " King Dedede narrowed his gaze at him. "Why are you wearing such a weird mask?" he asked.

"This is a new copy ability ... " Kirby reconsidered his words.

If he said what he was wearing was the Wrestler Copy Ability, even though this was a party King Dedede went through a lot of trouble to prepare, it might really hurt the King’s feelings.

"This ... this is ... fashionable! It's a fashionable mask made just for parties!"

" ... What are you talking about, you runt?"

"Um, uh, anyways, let's hurry and start the party already!"

"Hmph. Do you really want to fight so badly?" King Dedede laughed daringly. "I feel the same. Alright, let's get this started!" He struck the floor with his hammer, as if to signal the start of the battle.

Kirby was surprised. "Huh!? What are you doing? I've exercised a bunch already. And even if I didn't, I’m still starving ... "

"Enough of the chitter chatter!" Bandana Waddle Dee quickly readied his spear upon hearing this. King Dedede glared at him. "You! I told you to back off!"

"I'm fighting too! Because I'm Kirby's buddy!"

King Dedede tried to shout at Bandana Waddle Dee, furious, however, Meta Knight stopped him. "Okay. Let's fight the both of you."

"Hey, Meta Knight! Are you for real!" King Dedede shouted, displeased. "Waddle Dee will just wander around or something! He’ll get hurt, for sure!"

"No, he’s Kirby's chosen buddy. There's no mistake."

"Anything’s fine for you as long as you get to fight Kirby!"

Compared to the Dedede-Meta Knight team who were quickly, once again, quarreling, Kirby and Bandana Waddle Dee were perfectly in sync.

"Let’s fight, Kirby!" Bandana Waddle Dee shouted. "That is the rule of this tower!"

"Really? I understand ... "

It seemed that it was necessary to fight in order to get the party started ... Kirby finally grew motivated to battle. The two exchanged a knowing look and commenced their attack at once, simultaneously.

"Take this! ROLLING SOBAT!"

"Let’s do this! SPEAR THRUST!" King Dedede and Meta Knight were taken aback.

"Mmmrgh ... " King Dedede groaned, "your movements are pretty quick! Damned Waddle Dee, you’ve gotten so strong, before I even realized it!"

Meta Knight pulled out the treasured sword, Galaxia. "Then I won’t go easy on you!" He slashed at Kirby, who jumped up and quickly dived feet-first towards his head.

"WRESTLER PINPOINT KICK!" Meta Knight jumped, falling back and evading.

King Dedede shot Bandana Waddle Dee a sharp look in the meanwhile.

"Do you want me to be your opponent, first of all?" he said. "Won’t be hard doing away with Kirby after that."

"Great King ... I’ll do this!" Bandana Waddle Dee thrust his spear with great vigor and skill. "Ei! MULTISPEAR ATTACK!"

"Ho-ho! You're persistent, aren't cha?" King Dedede laughed. "But something like that’s no match for me! Now, HAMMER SWING!" The heavy hammer came pounding down. Bandana Waddle Dee quickly dodged. "Hmph, you won't avoid what comes next! GIANT DEDEDE SWING!" King Dedede swung his hammer around, and Bandana Waddle Dee held his spear over his head and spun it at high speeds. Then, the spear became a propeller, and Bandana Waddle Dee’s body floated gently.

"WADDLE COPTER!" It was a light aerial technique that could only be done by the nimble Bandana Waddle Dee!

"W ... what!?" King Dedede was astonished at this move. He breathed roughly as Bandana Waddle Dee waited for an opening as he flew over him, realizing that he was planning to counterattack when he came near.

"Damn Waddle Dee! That’s a cheeky move you’re using!" King Dedede's eyes held a trace of a sinister light. The Great King raised a hand high and a Gordo appeared atop it. It was a dangerous living creature outfitted with countless sharp spikes. "Here! TAKE THIS!" King Dedede nimbly threw the Gordo up with a shout before striking it with his hammer. It headed straight at Bandana Waddle Dee.

"Waaaaah!" He hurriedly avoided it.

"Here! Here! Here!" His attack did not cease. King Dedede continued firing off Gordos in rapid succession, one of which struck Bandana Waddle Dee's spear and flew off in an unexpected direction.

It hit Kirby's head dead-on as he was fighting Meta Knight.

"OWWWWW!" Kirby screamed aloud as the thorns stuck into him. Meta Knight did not let the opportunity escape.

"META MULTITHRUST!" Kirby's face was grazed by Galaxia’s sharp tip.

"Uwaah!" He held his face back.

There was no injury, however, his mask was torn to complete shreds.

"Ah ... the mask!" Kirby returned to being ability-less. The Wrestler Copy Ability could be used no longer. Meta Knight shifted his grip on his sword.

"It seems the match has been decided. Prepare yourself, Kirby!" He raised his sword.

"KIRBY—!" Bandana Waddle Dee, flying overhead, raised his voice in a scream. He tried to help, but was unable to in time. The treasured sword Galaxia swiftly attacked Kirby, who was in a daze, unable to move.

In that moment of desperation, driven into a corner—a pitch black shadow fluttered down before him.

It was Shadow Kirby.

He wore a green hat and held a sword in his hand, the same as when he had first appeared, and caught Meta Knight’s strike.

" ... What!?" Meta Knight jumped back in surprise. Shadow Kirby turned around and looked at Kirby.

He was expressionless, as usual, however, he seemed to smile a little at him.

Shadow Kirby took off the hat he was wearing and handed it over. Kirby was speechless.

"The hat? You’re going to give it to me?" Shadow Kirby did not respond and jumped up quickly.

The next moment, he was already gone. Kirby blinked several times.

It was a momentary event, but as evidence it was not a dream, the green hat still remained in his hand.

Then, "Kirby, put on the hat! Quickly!" Bandana Waddle Dee shouted. "It's a gift from Shadow Kirby!"

Kirby hurriedly put on the green hat when he realized that. A sword appeared in his right hand and power surged through his body.

"It's the Sword Copy Ability!" Kirby shouted energetically as he held it up. "Bring it on, Meta Knight!" Meta Knight yelled in a bloodthirsty voice before bringing down his sword.

Kirby’s own sword repelled the blow that held all of Meta Knight’s might, and the battle grew fierce. Every time the two swords met, sparks scattered, crackling.

"What's the hold up, Meta Knight!" King Dedede shouted. "Why don’tcha leave it to the King!" King Dedede raised his hammer and jumped at Kirby. Bandana Waddle Dee landed in front of him.

"Your opponent is me, Great King!"

"You lil’ pest. Get outta here, Waddle Dee!"

"Eeeeeeeei!" Bandana Waddle Dee didn't flinch. He thrust his spear out with all his might.

"Gwuaagh!? Why you little ... WADDLE DEE!" A smile came to King Dedede’s face as he adjusted his grip on his hammer. "You’ve gotten so strong, before I knew it!"

"I became brave while fighting alongside Kirby!"

"I’ll give you credit for that, but you’re still a million years too early to go up against me! HRYAAH!" King Dedede swung his hammer.

Kirby, Bandana Waddle Dee, Meta Knight, King Dedede. It became a great battle of four.

"SWORD SPIN!"

"MOON DROP!"

"META SPIN SLASH!"

"DEDEDE HAMMER FLIP!"

Each of them gathered their strength and fired off their strongest moves in rapid succession.

Amongst them, Meta Knight’s drive was the best by far. He launched a focused attack aiming only for Kirby.

As expected, Kirby felt like he was becoming overwhelmed, losing ground. The treasured sword Galaxia repelled his sword and sent it flying.

"Wawawawawa ...! " Meta Knight rushed in and attacked Kirby, who had now lost his weapon! Bandana Waddle Dee, who was fighting King Dedede, shouted out in a daze.

"WATCH OUT, KIRBY!" He quickly flipped his spear and struck it into Meta Knight. "BACK THRUST!"

Meta Knight stopped moving for a moment due to the unexpected attack, and Kirby hurriedly picked up his sword and thrust it into him with all of his might.

"TAAAA—!"

Meta Knight, suddenly realizing what was happening, tried to defend against it.

But he couldn't make it in time. Kirby's sword struck his mask dead-on, breaking it into two equal halves.

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#kirby #bandana waddle dee #meta knight #king dedede #kirby fighters 2 #Kirby: Kirby Fighters the Destined Rivals!!#kirby light novel #translations #fun fact! i mean translator's notes #when dedede asks bandee if he wants to be his opponent #he switches over and refers to him with the second person pronoun omae #which is a little nicer than ddd's default (kisama)#i could probably count the number of times ddd uses omae on one hand #he never uses it so this is very conscious. make of that what you will

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anaiswriterr · 4 years ago

Text

My Darling,

Pairing: Deku x Reader

Rating: M

Warnings: smut, light cursing, nsfw, soft dom Izuku (Characters are aged up, Y/N is 20 and Izuku is 23) Forgive me, I’ll go to church after this I promise. I tried my best, one day my smut writing will get better but until then I’m practicing. Um.. yeah this isn’t as graphic as other but damn I had to take multiple breaks. THIS IS 18+

Request: 18, 63, 72, and 150

SYNOPSIS: A simple tribe girl picking flowers for her mother’s shop and Dragon King who was in desperate need for a wife. He met her on a warm spring evening, and was set to marry her the next night.

Y/N wouldn't necessarily call herself lucky, though, many girls would remind her of the soft skin she possessed, the darling smile she was blessed with, and the warmth her heart carried within as she handed out lilies to the little girls that ran all throughout the village. Blessed with Aphrodite's beauty, undoubtly she caused heads to turn everywhere she went.

Y/N L/N, daughter of the villages flower shop owner, was the most beautiful in the land.

A proud tribal woman of the Dragon Kingdom, who never paid attention to politics, who never saw the wrong in most. The one who caught the wandering eye of King Izuku when he made his frequent visit to the village for it's annual festival.

The golden hew that surround her crouched body, as she continued to pick the roses from her garden. She hadn't noticed his eyes, she was to busy cutting off the thorns off its stem before handing the rose to a small boy who watched in awe as she filled her basket with more roses. "This ones for you," She says softly, dropping the flower into his small palm; he clutches onto the now non threatening stem. His eyes grow large with his smile as he wraps his arms around the girl, "Thank you, Miss L/N!" He runs off the other direction.

Her kindness is what drew Izuku Midoriya. Like a magical love spell casted on the man, love at first sight.

Who knew the King would come back with a wife who wasn't even remotely close to royalty, no, she was a normal tribal girl who ran with her heart never her head - surely she never thought she'd be Queen one day to King Midoriya. But like all fairytales she married, and fell madly in love with the king as he held his palm out to help lower her from his horse.

She sighs, "Do we have to attend this party?"

Izuku smiles at his bride, hold her hand close to his chest placing a chaste kiss on her fingers, "Just for a little while, I promise you'll have fun. Besides, I'll be with you the entire night."

"Is that a promise?" Y/N asks nervously, chewing on the insides of her cheeks. Still new to the whole royalty transition, she looked the part but inside she was still the girl who picked up flowers for her mother. Izuku can feel her nervousness radiate off her body, arching a brow he smiles at her in hopes to lift her sprits. "I know you're still new to this, but there's a reason why I married you."

"Why is that?" She lifts her head to meet his emerald green eyes, ones she'd often found herself most nights staring deeply into.

"That's for me too know and for you to find out later." He places a kiss on her cheek.

Y/N scoffs as his playfulness at they enter the castle, hundreds of bustling maids scurry around in preparations for tonight's ball. "Continue to say things like that, and we both won't be attending the party tonight."

"Why is that?" He smirks looking directly down at his wife with hungry eyes.

"That's for me to know and for you to find out later."

***

Y/N wears a sly smile as she makes her way around the busy ballroom, taking in small sips of her champagne as she converses with the girls she's recently befriended. Uraraka and Mina, both who were recently married to Bakugou and Kirishima. Y/N found it easy to talk to them, simple, all three were new to the life of being royalty. Y/N hums in agreement at something Mina says, giggling at Uraraka's blushing cheeks till she feels two strong arms wrap around her waist, "Excuse me ladies, but if you don't mind I'll be stealing my wife for a moment." Izuku says playfully, before latching his arm into yours.

"Where you taking me?"

"I haven't told you how beautiful you look in this dress," He whispers into her ear causing a warm chill to run down her spine, "I can't wait to rip it off."

A scarlet red blush creeps onto her cheeks, biting her bottom lip in comfort Y/N stands on her tip toes to lean in closer to his ear; "What makes you think I'll let you." Y/N pulls him onto the ballroom floor, throwing his hands on the small of her back as the two sway to the music played by the orchestra. "I should be mad at you; you left me all by myself Zuzu. After you promised you'd stay with me all night." She cooed into his ear, reprimanding him of his broken promise. A faint blush dusts his cheeks, twirling her to the music.

"Well then, let me make it up to you. Besides, you made friends at least."

Y/N shrugs, "You're right, but Zuzu I wanted to spend more time with you."

His hands grasps at her hips, pulling her in close. "Then we can spend the rest of the night together, in bed." He says suggestively, Y/N pretends to think, wondering if she could drag this conversation on longer. He sure was persistent, a small giggle escapes her lips, she places a small peck onto his lips.

"And why don't we spend time together, here? After all we are the hosts, right Zuzu?"

Izuku chases her lips fighting back the urge to nibble her ear in plain sight - she was toying with his emotions.

"I don't need an audience to watch me fuck my wife," He growls in anticipation - He can already tell he has an effect of her. Her movements to the music still and her demeanor slightly changes, her eyes grow dark. Izuku has Y/N right where he wanted her; but preferable he'd rather have her underneath him. Izuku cheekily leans back into her ear, "Just know I'm gonna fuck your brains out after tonight."

***

The two run hand in hand down the hallway to their bedroom, laughing the entire way down until they finally reach the door. Izuku nearly breaks the door down before slamming it shut behind him, his hand moves forward to cup her cheeks, pulling her in for a deep searing kiss.

Y/N moans in delight when he has her back against the door, her hands pull at his dark curly locks as his tongue explores her mouth, "I want you," she managed to pant between each kiss, falling in complete bliss as his lips trail down from the corner of her lips and down her throat; latching onto her collarbone.

"Izuku,"

"Patience."

Groaning in annoyance, she rubs her thighs together to ease the growing ache between them. With her fingers entangled between his locks she pulls him off her neck, revealing the small bruises and bite marks he left behind. His hands roam all throughout her body, squeezing, pulling, grasping. "This is getting in the way," he groans as he tugs on the fabric of her dress, biting his lip she mumbles, "Then take it off."

"Yes ma'am." He chuckles, turning her around untying the strings to loosening the corset, his lips hungrily latch to the back of her neck. "Izuku!" She whines, "Hurry up!" He pulls off her dress, ripping the back into shreds, twisting her back around. Y/N hops into his arms, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he carries her off to their bed.

His hands fiddle with the waistline of her panties, playing with the lace material between his fingers - gently pressing her down into the mattress. She whines beneath him, watching as he trails down her body, his lips leave trails of tiny bruises and saliva down her chest. Placing two bite marks just above her breasts, eyeing the lace white bra she wore. His eyes plead for her to take it off, "Please daring." His dark green eyes bore into her E/C ones, "Please," Nodding, Y/N arches her back unclipping the hooks off her back and tossing it onto floor.

His lips attach onto her hardened nipple, the pleasure of his warm mouth against her breast seizes her. Her fingers curl through his hair pulling him closer towards her chest, his hands placed firmly over her hips as he traveled down the valley between her breast and onto her belly, placing soft lips against the soft skin of her naval. She giggles at his gentleness - still not used to the feeling of his roaming hands. He stops just above the waist band of her panties, eyeing her down as he kisses her through the fabric. Sending waves of pleasure throughout her body - the warmth surrounds her like a burning fire.

Fingers curling over the fabric, pulling them down slowly.

"Don't tease."

Izuku's head ducks down to her inner thighs, biting and sucking against the soft skin, he smiles, "I'll take as long as I want," he kisses all along her legs, his hands wrap around her ankles pulling her closer as he slowly slides down her panties, throwing it off to side. Izuku licks a long strip against her aching core, moaning into her folds and sucking against her aching clit.

Y/N pulls against the roots of his hair, he lets out a low groan - the vibrations only making her shiver. "Fuck.." Y/N throws her head back, massaging Izuku's scalp with her fingers, a series of "please" and "yeses" string past her lips - her volume only increases with his speed. Dark green emerald eyes lock with her hazy half lidded orbs, "Darling, you have to be more quiet. Or else they'll hear us."

Was that necessarily a bad things? If people heard?

Y/N covers her mouth with her palm, one hand grasping at the sheet for some kind support and the other holding back the increasingly loud moans from her vocal cords ripping out into a soft harmony with his grunts.

"Oh fuck," Izuku suddenly plunges two finger deep inside, pumping in and out of her tight hole, licking at her sweet folds and sucking hard on her clit. Increasing his speed, a hot coil of pleasure overtakes her core, legs shaking, he drinks up all her juices. He smirks, leaning back to admire the mess he made, "Perfect." Y/N's quick to cross her legs - suddenly left feeling insecure as his hungry eyes wonders all along her. Her hands cover her breasts.

"Woah, don't cover up." Izuku leans in to uncover her chest, pressing a small kiss to her temple. His hands go to unbutton his shirt, throwing off his royal tunic and off his white long sleeved undershirt. Y/N props her self up with her elbows - biting her bottom lip, chewing in anticipation. Unbuttoning his pants, Y/N points towards his large bulge - arching a brow sheepishly at her husband, "Do y-you want me to help you with that?"

Nodding his head no, he gently presses her down shimmying out his pants. "Tonight's about you." His lips connect with hers in a heated passionate kiss, his strong hands wrap around her ankles - throwing her legs over his shoulders positioning himself in front of her entrance. "Please?" He asks, eyes begging to be let in.

"Yes, please."

Her husband pushes himself into her tight aching hole a small moan escape's past her lips. Her head cradled by two strong arms; his thrusts start out slow as he bottoms himself out into his wife, rocking back and forth with his hips. Moaning out into her lips.

Mimicking one another's pace, Y/N claws away at his back. Nails digging into his skin, creating crescent shaped marks and long red lines being scraped into his skin.

Izuku lays in forehead against her shoulder blades, kissing and napping away at her skin, groaning from the hot painful marks on his back.

"Zuku.." She moans clinging onto his back for support, his arm shoots up to the bed frame rocking his hips harder into hers, hitting perfectly at her g-spot. A silent scream forms from her lips, whimpering beneath him at his quickened pace.

Pounding Y/N into the mattress he mutters, "I love you."

Y/N is moaning mess as Izuku moves her hiked up leg over his shoulder slinging it over his waist, hitting a whole new angle her nails dig into the flesh of his back even deeper, penetrate the skin and drawing blood. Throwing his head back groaning at the pain he pumps in faster, plunging deeper into her hitting a new angle. Her mouth forms an 'O', arching her back from the mattress Izuku presses his weight onto her increasing his speed hitting her in all the right places.

His tight grip to the bed frame loosens to fall beside her head, encasing her with two muscular forearms - it's not long until she feels a hot twist in her core moaning for him to slow down with a hand pressed down to his abdomen. "I-I'm gonna-"

"M-me too." Izuku pants, his trusts turning sloppy and faster. Y/N's vision blurs as the coil releases with a small "Please" - and not long after that Izuku collapses on top of her.

The both a panting mess with stupid smile pained on their lips, a doopy look in Y/N eyes as she smiles towards the ceiling while Izuku chuckles - pressing his forehead onto hers before rolling onto his side. A breathless giggle escapes past her lips, Y/N turns to her side propping her head up with her palm using her other hand to pull up the covers she sighs in content, "I love you, you know that right?"

"I love you more."

"Not possible."

Izuku pulls her in by the waist smiling as he lays into her chest, "sometimes I feel like my hearts gonna burst, that how much I love you."

Y/N rakes her fingers through the messy curly green locks , thumbing away the sections that stuck to his forehead nuzzling her chin on top his head; maybe she was lucky. Luck was always a possibility for her but one thing she was certain was the pure happiness she was blessed with.

#bnha izuku #izuku midoriya #izuku midoria x reader #mha izuku #midoriya izuku #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #izuku smut #izuku midoriya smut #deku imagines #deku x reader #deku headcanons #deku x reader smut #mha smut #bnha smut

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itsamejin · 5 years ago

Text

it’s you || part 1 || taehyung angst/fluff || hanahaki au

Part 2

Summary: You’d rather live with thorns endlessly scratching the back of your throat than be devoid of the light that Taehyung brought into your life. Even if your love for him was slowly killing you, you didn’t mind as long as you could keep the warmth of his presence until the very end.

Warning: Mentions of throwing up, coughing up blood, death, some slight violence

Genre: Fluff, Angst, hanahaki!au, college!au, fuckboy!tae

Premise: Hanahaki Disease comes in different forms in this universe. The disease would eventually disappear if your love wasn’t that strong to begin with, but if you truly, deeply love someone, your flowers will rip at your throat. Throwing up flowers wasn’t a rare occurrence and for most people it disappeared after a few days. If Hanahaki persists, surgery is recommended, but it would severely dull the positive emotions of the person under surgery. Due to this, some choose to die with their unrequited love.

Commission Request: @guksflavor

Word Count: 8,313 words

—

Taehyung was obnoxiously handsome, too handsome to be a normal guy majoring in Psychology at one’s local university. Often mistaken for a celebrity, frequently breaking girl’s hearts, Taehyung was known as the campus “flower boy”.

It was never meant as a term of endearment. In fact, it offended Taehyung deeply when people would whisper about his private life as if he was incapable of hearing the slight jabs to his character. The nickname came from the notorious fact that Taehyung would cause several people to spit out flower petals from his mere presence alone.

It was the common case of “love at first sight”, a kind that never lasted very long after getting to know him.

Of course, throwing up petals was the first sign of the feared Hanahaki Disease, but it was never that serious when it came to Taehyung. The flowers would stop after a day or two and the girls who convinced themselves that Taehyung would be their future husband soon realized that their feelings never reached below the surface.

Their love was shallow, for no one really loved Taehyung outside of his good looks and he didn’t really mind.

Why should he when he hasn’t fallen in love either?

That’s why he was thankful for you and the rest of his close friends who scoffed at his blatant attempts at flirting. He was grateful for you helping him study or telling creepy girls off when they got a little too close to him at parties. He liked that you rejected his advances and that you cared deeply for him despite his tendency to annoy you. He appreciated having a friend that just... wanted to be a friend.

So why were you in the campus restroom stall, for the fifth time that week, spilling your guts out into the toilet? Why were you grasping at the wall, holding onto it for dear life, as you stared at a striking bundle of yellow flowers coated in toilet water? Why did you cry at the sight of beautiful and fully bloomed daffodils?

You swallowed back the incoming wave of discomfort but it kept coming. All because you couldn’t help but have your heart flutter when he put a hand on your shoulder. Your mind swam in thoughts of him and you weren’t quite sure if you could go on like this. If you could continue to want someone when it only brought you pain.

Why were you in love with Kim Taehyung when that was the last thing he wanted from you?

—

“Want to see something cool?” Taehyung asked, sprawled on your living room floor next to you. It was one of those lazy days you had with him, the kind that was only meant to be enjoyed by friends.

“No.”

Taehyung gave you a dirty look but sat up anyways.

“I’ve been working on my flexibility lately,” he chided. “I can touch my toes for 30 seconds now.”

You closed your eyes and gave him a fake smile.

“Good for you,” you sighed. Sometimes Taehyung had too much energy that you couldn’t match up with. You liked to humor him on days like this when he got extra pouty.

“So you’re not even gonna look?” he said, feigning sadness.

You rolled your eyes behind closed eyes and sat up to face him. You regret opening your eyes because his face was far too close to yours. You would have given him a flower shower right when your eyes locked.

“What was that?” he chuckled. “You looked like you saw a ghost or something. Am I that scary to look at?”

He squeezed your cheeks with both hands and you attempted to pull away from him, only to have him squeeze harder.

“Yes, you’re hideous,” you said through broke sentences. “A beast. You look like a half-eaten mango.”

Taehyung burst out in laughter and let go as he let himself collapse back on the floor. He was that confident in his looks to not mind your snide comments.

“That’s rich coming from you,” he cackled.

You glared at him and hit his stomach with your fist, earning a big ‘oof’ from the oversized child in front of you.

“Say one more word and I will never set you up on that date with my friend,” you threatened, hurt that you had to mention another girl for Taehyung to quit his laughing.

“I’m sorry my queen,” he said dramatically, pretending to kneel at your feet. “I have wronged you.”

You scoffed at his antics and pinched his ear as he wailed for you to stop.

“This is what you get for being stupid,” you said through his cries for help. You lifted his head up to your face and was met with a dazzling grin. Why did he have to smile like that towards you? Why did he lead you on in the most innocent way possible?

“You love when I’m stupid though,” he teased, attempting to tickle your sides.

‘I love you even when you’re not stupid,’ you yearned to say out loud, but the words never escaped your lips.

—

As the days passed it was getting harder and harder to speak. The thorns of some of the flowers made permanent etch marks in the back of your throat. You could muster yourself to sound normal on most days, but just earlier you had thrown up a dozen roses at a small social gathering and the embarrassment and pain had become unbearable.

You wished there was an easy explanation for your pain, but any time you tried to voice your thoughts out loud, you felt suffocated.

Your friends had noticed pretty early on that you had Hanahaki, but like everyone else, they thought it would disappear just as quickly as it came. Taehyung probably would have noticed if it weren’t for him being so desensitized to the disease that he never even bat an eye when you’d excuse yourself from the bathroom every time you two hung out.

He was the naive type, the one that needed to have it spelled out to him when an explanation was due. Maybe that’s why your heart would hurt so much at the thought of telling him about your condition. It would probably break him if he knew.

“[Y/N], at this point in time it’s imperative that you get surgery,” your doctor said sternly, twisting around in his chair. “It’s not safe to continue on without treatment.”

When the three month grace period passed, it was strongly recommended for you to get the surgery before your vocal cords were damaged beyond repair.

If you continued to suffer from Hanahaki, death would be awaiting any moment.

“I know,” you said softly. “I’m willing to take that risk.”

You had your reasons for not wanting surgery. It’s not like you wanted to die, but getting the procedure came with its consequences. Emotions would not come easily and there would be an absence of love in your life... not just for the person you have feelings for, but for everyone around you. So here you were, six months in and losing your voice more and more as the days went by. You were aware of what awaited you next.

You would know. Your mom went through the same procedure.

“You’re very young,” your doctor started, sighing at your stubbornness. “I know that this is a difficult situation, but getting this surgery will save your life. I can’t force you to change your mind, but I want you to weigh your options.”

You nodded at him but tuned out his words as to not be convinced. You couldn’t bear to see Taehyung as just another face, no longer finding the meaning behind his smile, no longer seeing the beauty in his movements. You would rather die a painful death than let go of the love you had developed for a man who didn’t feel the same for you.

“I’ll let you know if I decide differently,” you replied with a whisper. He looked at you with a tinge of disappointment.

“I can’t prescribe a higher dosage of painkillers,” your doctor said solemnly. “Any more and that would be killing you just as much.”

You looked down onto your knees and felt tears stream down your face. Whatever you choose to do, it would end with you in heartbreak anyways. You figured this was the least painful option.

—

Taehyung was always the type to mess around and flirt without thinking. You could count time and time again of him getting kicked out of bars or clubs from talking to other guy’s girlfriends and leaving Jungkook and you to clean up the mess.

The intense gaze his eyes would hold when he’d see someone he found attractive, the way he’d confidently saunter towards them without feeling nervous. You admired Taehyung because he was someone you could never be. So himself, so unafraid of what the world would think of him.

You took a shot of whiskey and swallowed harshly. Your throat was burning from the petals that had invaded it earlier in the day, but you needed to drown out your feelings of sorrow somehow. Taehyung had managed to sneak back into the club, now making his way onto the crowded dance floor looking for his next target.

“You feeling okay?” Jungkook asked, patting your back as you coughed a bit at the taste. Jungkook was your mutual best friend with Taehyung, the defining person that made you the Three Musketeers. He was your rock when times were tough.

“I feel like shit,” you sighed deeply, watching as Taehyung grabbed an unassuming girl by the hand and blew her a kiss. “It’s like the flowers get bigger each day.”

Jungkook knew about your disease. In fact, he was the number one supporter of you getting that life-changing surgery that would impair your emotions for Taehyung permanently. He wanted you to live more than anything, even if it meant costing you a semblance of your happiness.

“Why don’t you just confess to him?” Jungkook asked bitterly. “I mean it couldn’t hurt, right? You’re basically preparing to die at this point.”

You scoffed at his straightforwardness. He was obviously upset with your decision to refuse the surgery and he was showing it to you in a very Jungkook way by making petty comments in a shady club.

He’d never gotten Hanahaki so he would never understand, you thought.

“If I told Tae, wouldn’t you think he’d hate me?” you asked genuinely, tilting your head up at Jungkook. He stared down at you and you could tell he was holding back... because you knew the right answer to the question was yes. He’d have the same reaction as any other womanizer who couldn’t keep a relationship to save his life.

Taehyung would hate you if you loved him.

“He’ll probably ignore you for a bit, but that’s him being stupid,” Jungkook sighed, patting you on the head to comfort you a bit. “I mean, he’d probably try and force himself into falling in love with you if you told him about your... situation.”

You pursed your lips. You could see Taehyung do exactly just that. That was his classic way of ghosting the girls he messed around with, but Taehyung would never commit to those same tactics with you. He considered you like family and he’d probably blame himself until the end of time if he were to find out.

“See what I mean?” you avoided eye contact with Jungkook as you felt your eyes tear up a bit. “It would be all fake. He’d hate me and then pretend to love me and then I’d die either way. It would hurt a hell of a lot more if I let that happen.”

Jungkook furrowed his brows and glared at you.

“There’s always the possibility that he does fall in love with you, y’know?”

You shook your head and fiddled with your fingers.

“Taehyung doesn’t fall in love,” you muttered softly.

The two of you stayed silent, aware that the words you uttered were true. Even as he danced with beautiful women around him, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes solely on Taehyung. He would never let himself be so vulnerable as to fall in love with somebody, let alone a close friend like you.

So why did you let him worm into your heart so easily?

—

Six months ago...

“[Y/N], I’m asking you just this once,” Taehyung begged, puppy eyes activated. “I am begging you to give me her number.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. He always wanted to bother you when you worked your shift at the bookstore. Somehow, Taehyung still didn’t want to make himself useful by helping you put away books.

“Tae, we’re in the same class,” you sighed as you stacked up some magazines on top of each other and pushing a bunch of them into one of the higher shelves. “You could just ask her yourself.”

He whined and gave you that infamous pout known to make every girl on campus swoon. If it weren’t for your self-control you would have punched him right then and there for trying to act cute with you while at work.

“I can’t be too direct,” he replied with those pouty lips. “The other girl I'm trying to get with in that class will notice.”

You scrunched your nose. For someone who hated giving people Hanahaki, he couldn’t help but play around with girls as if it were a sport. He was practically an expert in making himself hated amongst his exs.

“You’re gonna regret being such a fuckboy one of these days,” you warned, but taking out your phone to pull up her number anyways. “Mark my words.”

He let out a cheer and hugged you from behind, squeezing you until the oxygen left your body. You tried to push him off of you, but he didn’t budge. It was better to just let him get his clinginess out of the way and then kick him in the shins later.

“I’ll treat you to dinner for this,” he said, grinning as you sent him her number through text message.

“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed. “Please let go of me I feel like I’m about to throw up.”

He laughed and kissed your cheek, a sound that resounded from the store so loudly that it made you wince.

“Love ya,” he smiled, rushing out of the store like a giddy teenage girl. You clenched your fists and touched the area he pecked. Somehow it made you angry at how excited he looked at the thought of another girl.

What did they have that you didn’t? Did you not exist to him at all?

You clutched onto your stomach as you felt something rumble. You felt an uncomfortable itch in the back of your throat and asked your boss if you could be excused. You tried making it to the bathroom in the back of the bookstore but you stumbled on a pile of books before you could reach your destination. You were on your knees, clutching your stomach as you hurled the contents inside of your stomach onto the wooden floors.

‘I’m so getting fired for this,’ you thought, as you kept your eyes clenched. When you decided to open them, you weren’t met with the soupy substance of the pizza you ate earlier that day, but with an array of pink peonies scattered across the floor. You shook your head out of disbelief.

No one throws up that many flowers on the first day of contracting Hanahaki. It was always one or two petals and it never came in full blooms of flowers. You had experienced this before with a boy back in middle school and it never turned out so... dangerously beautiful like this.

The sight in front of you was astonishing, the books stacked behind the scattered petals made for a picturesque view. Something about it didn’t sit quite right with you though, as if this signaled your demise.

You whisked through the flowers to see if anything abnormal was found in the flowers and there you saw it. Small specks of blood on the petals.

You realized then that you were screwed.

—

Present

The club continued to stay lively as Taehyung danced his heart out, simultaneously avoiding the bouncers that made their rounds around the club. He couldn’t risk getting kicked out again.

While you enjoyed seeing how much fun he was having, it made you sick to your stomach at how up close and personal he was with other girls. It made your blood boil at how easily it was for Taehyung to be so enamored with someone he could meet just five seconds ago, but feel nothing for you when you’d been friends for much longer. You held onto Jungkook’s arm to keep you steady as you felt another vomit session come up. You were starting to get dizzy and it wasn’t from the alcohol.

“You look like you’re about to faint any second now,” Jungkook said, worry etched all over his face. “Do you need me to take you home?”

You just laughed softly and grabbed onto the table in front of you instead of Jungkook. You weren’t leaving tonight knowing that Taehyung was still having the time of his life in front of you, even if it hurt to even stand. You just needed to take your mind off of him, that’s all.

“Jungkook, if you just randomly got amnesia one day and forgot everyone around you, how would you feel?” you asked him, pouring another round of whiskey into your glass to ease the headache.

“What does this have to do with you fainting?” he grumbled, stealing your shot and gulping it down for yourself. You scoffed at his blatant attempt to keep you from drinking.

“Just answer the question,” you said, now eyeing a girl Taehyung had his body pressed against. She looked about ready to pounce on him any second.

“I don’t know, I’d probably feel like shit,” he shrugged, motioning for you to pour him another drink. You obliged.

“Well that’s how getting that fucking surgery would feel like,” you said rather aggressively as now the girl was taking Taehyung to the back of the club, where the restroom stalls were. You felt the familiar feeling of choking occur but you muscled through it.

“You’re overreacting,” Jungkook said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t drink the shot yet and instead handed it to you. He noticed Taehyung getting dragged to the restroom too and felt like you needed it, even if your hands were shaking as you grabbed it from his hands. You clenched your fist as you swallowed the cold liquid. It had flushed down the flowers temporarily.

“Not overreacting. I’ve seen it first-hand myself,” you said.

He looked at you, surprise written all over his face, but didn’t press any further. That’s why you appreciated Jungkook so much. He never overstepped his boundaries, unlike Taehyung who practically invaded your personal space each time you saw him. The two were so different from each other and you were so different from them. You wondered how the three of you even became friends.

“I don’t want to turn out like an empty shell for the rest of my life,” you continued, still holding the empty shot glass to your lips. “I’d rather die doing everything I wanted to rather than live a meaningless life.”

He glanced at you, slightly impressed by how stubborn you truly were. Nothing would get to you and no amount of pleading would make you change your mind. You weren’t going to get that surgery.

“So are you gonna make like a bucket list or what?” he asked, taking the whiskey and chugging it straight from the bottle. You looked at him in disgust as he detached himself from the liquor. It seems like both of you were drinking to forget.

“I should, shouldn’t I?” you smiled, finally setting the glass down as you saw Taehyung exit the bathroom looking disgusted. “Might as well since I’m gonna die anyway.”

You two laughed at the morbidity of it all. It wasn’t a funny situation to be in, but you had to make the most of it. Would this be the last time you go clubbing with Jungkook and Taehyung? Would your life end before it even really started?

“That girl puked hydrangeas on my fucking shoes,” Taehyung yelled, rushing to the two of you. “We gotta leave, I am not having her follow me around after this.”

Jungkook and you scoffed at his silliness. This was better, you thought. The atmosphere between Jungkook and you earlier was so grim. Typical Taehyung brightening up the mood wherever he went.

Even as the feeling of thorns pricked against your throat, you couldn’t shake off the smile that was on your face. For Taehyung had made you happy and you couldn’t imagine not feeling any emotion other than love as he looked at you with such sincerity.

You couldn’t bear the idea of Taehyung not having an effect on you.

—

“Please, Jungkook,” Taehyung cried, shaking him back and forth as all three of you stood in the university hallways waiting for the lecture hall to open. “Just give me the notes, I’ll give them back I promise.”

Jungkook clicked his tongue and tried to pull his backpack away from Taehyung who was furiously trying to make a grab at it.

“Fuck off dude, you should’ve studied when you had the chance,” Jungkook sighed, searching for some assistance from you. “It’s not my fault you got wasted at the club last night.”

Taehyung whined at Jungkook’s reluctance to help him out. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t cram any information that morning with that stupid hangover of his. Pretty soon, Taehyung was looking at you too, expectations written all over his face. You huffed out an annoyed breath and opened up your own bag.

“Tae, just use my notes,” you shook your head lightly, taking out the composition book tucked near the back of your bag. “Stop bothering Jungkook, he looks ready to start a fight with you any moment now.”

Taehyung’s eyes lit up in a way that made your heart stop, naturally gravitating towards your direction. He looked so pure and innocent in moments like these when he gets something he wants. You couldn’t help but feed off from his positive energy.

You handed him your notebook as he stared at it in awe.

“You are the only person who wants to see me succeed,” Taehyung said dramatically, kissing your notes as if it were the seventh wonder of the world. Jungkook scoffed and smacked Taehyung’s head.

“What are you gonna do without [Y/N] always covering you?” he rolled his eyes. Somehow his words stung a bit.

You didn’t think Jungkook really knew the weight of his own words, but you were thinking deeply about it. What would Taehyung do without you being there for him all the time?

Taehyung shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter, [Y/N]’s gonna be my guardian angel forever,” he teased and put an arm around you. You clenched your jaw and looked down a the floor. You could not let yourself yack some damn petals in that hallway during exam season.

"Do you not feel sorry for her one bit?” Jungkook scoffed, clearly done with Taehyung’s childish antics.

“Why should I?” Taehyung asked innocently, nuzzling into your hair as he held you tight. Somehow his touch felt suffocating, even though his arm was lightly placed on your shoulders.

“It’s not like she can live without me either,” he teased, booping your nose.

Jungkook and you exchanged glances and both simultaneously pulled on his ears.

‘If only he knew,’ you thought to yourselves.

—

After the quiz that Taehyung most likely failed, he invited Jungkook and you over to his place to eat some ramen.

“Sorry man, we actually have a life outside of you,” Jungkook said, declining his offer. “I’ve got extra shifts at work to cover anyways.”

You nodded at Jungkook’s excuse and proceeded with your own.

“I have some stuff to catch up on, so I can’t go,” you replied, trying to act nonchalantly. “Maybe next time, Tae?”

He shook his head at you two, feigning sadness.

“Both of you always act cold towards me, I’m starting to feel like this is a one-sided friendship,” he sighed, clenching his heart as if he was shot. It took everything in you to not step on his foot right then. He might not know about your condition, but the comments were unnecessary regardless if you had Hanahaki or not.

Jungkook and you simply stared at him and he awkwardly put his hand down when none of you showed a reaction.

“Fine, go do whatever,” he said, pompously. “I was gonna invite a girl over for dinner anyways.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Alright, bro. Have fun or whatever,” he said, trying to shoo Taehyung away. “I’ll walk [Y/N] to her dorm, you just leave.”

Taehyung clicked his tongue at him, but eventually left, leaving you to be with Jungkook alone.

“He’s the worst,” you sighed, and to that Jungkook nodded in agreement.

“You’re still choosing to die for him, though,” Jungkook muttered under his breath. You flinched at his words, saddened by Jungkook’s word choice. If he put it like that then you sounded like a weirdo.

An awkward silence fell between the two of you. You half-expected Taehyung to come back to you guys and interrupt your conversation to help lighten the mood, but he never came. Jungkook expected you to talk first since you were the one that asked to talk to him anyway, but it was clear his underhanded comment had made you uncomfortable.

“Why did you want to meet up with me anyway?” Jungkook asked, easing the tension just a bit.

You coughed awkwardly and looked up at him with a new sense of determination in your eyes that he hadn’t seen in a while. You seldom looked motivated these days.

“It’s about that bucket list thing you mentioned yesterday,” you started. “I want to do one of the things as soon as possible.”

He furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Why?”

You bit your bottom lip, not quite knowing how to phrase what you were about to say without making Jungkook upset. He’d probably nag at you like he usually does.

“I don’t have a lot of time left, Jungkook,” you said softly. “I just want to do as much as I can before I get stuck in a hospital bed.”

He stared down at you with sorrowful eyes. He wished there was some other way to help you, one that didn’t ultimately end in you dying.

“What do you need?” he asked kindly, surprisingly taking your words pretty well.

You smiled up at him and pulled out a piece of paper from your bag. Jungkook took it from your hands and was met with small sketches of flowers that you had presumably drawn. He studied the designs carefully, confused.

“Okay, how the hell am I supposed to know what this means?” he asked you, angling the paper in different ways to see if he was supposed to crack a code or something.

You shook your head in disappointment. You thought he’d get it by now, considering it was in his line of work.

“Tattoos,” you said simply. “I want a whole sleeve of flowers on my right arm and a bunch of small ones on like my thigh-”

“Stop stop stop,” Jungkook said, waving a hand in front of your face to shut you up. “You want a what now?”

You smiled brightly and spoke with more confidence.

“I want tattoos!”

He scoffed and handed back the paper to you.

“Are you only saying this because you’re gonna get discounted at the shop I work at?”

You shook your head rapidly, not amused by his assumptions.

“No, I’ve just always wanted them,” you said seriously. “I was always too scared with the needle but since I’ve got nothing to lose, I thought why not?”

Jungkook poked you with his index finger in the area between your eyebrows.

“You need to stop talking like that [Y/N],” he said seriously. “I hate when you get all negative.”

You smiled sadly at him.

“Give me the tattoos and I’ll stop talking,” you teased, but your words lacked genuine feeling.

Jungkook heaved out a sigh.

“Fine, but don’t come crying to me if you regret it,” he said, turning his back to you so he could make a call to his boss. Turns out he actually would be working that day.

—

The feeling of Jungkook’s needle on your skin didn’t hurt as much as you nearly thought it would, the pain only coming in dull waves.

After throwing up flowers consistently for the past few months, nothing could quite match up to the pain of thorns poking at your throat at random times of the day. To you, this was child’s play.

“You’re taking this pretty well for a beginner,” Jungkook complimented, still focusing on the light curves of the forget-me-nots he was etching onto your skin. A whole array of flowers would be drawn on your arm eventually.

“I’m good with my emotions unlike some people,” you said, clearly referencing how agitated Jungkook had been recently. He seemed to lash out every little thing and even made snide comments when he thought no one was listening. Jungkook was definitely taking your situation harder than you were at this point.

He only smiled at your words, not making any big movements as to not disrupt his work.

“I’m just shocked you’d want the stuff that’s gonna kill you to be on your body forever,” he replied back. Although he spoke too morbidly, he made a fair point.

“Well, the flowers mean more to me than just that,” you started, slightly wincing as Jungkook’s needled started drawing on a new patch of skin.

Jungkook noticed your discomfort and tried to ease your mind.

“Tell me about that,” he asked, hoping you didn’t feel even more uncomfortable with the question. He anticipated your reply as you coughed awkwardly.

“I’m actually doing this for my mom,” you said softly, avoiding eye contact with him. “She had Hanahaki too and it didn’t turn out well.”

He took a step back to get a good look at your sleeve. He had been working at this tattoo for two hours now and he only seemed to finish just one small section. ‘This would take several sessions of hard work,’ he thought to himself.

“You never talk about your mom,” he pointed out, lightly dabbing the bleeding parts of your skin to avoid infection on your skin.

“My mom got the surgery,” you said slowly, suddenly feeling a sting as the needle hit your skin again. “She found out my dad cheated on her after throwing up flowers for a couple of nights.”

He stopped his movements for a bit, shocked with your revelation. He knew you were hiding something, but he never expected it to be this big. He looked up at you and regretted seeing your sad expression so up close. It seemed you were about ready to cry.

“It literally broke her,” you continued. “She didn’t find joy in anything anymore. Like, she was a completely different person.”

Jungkook stopped his wrists from moving and pulled back a bit. He didn’t know how to comfort you. It was always Taehyug’s forte when it came to emotional stuff. What was he even supposed to say?

“Did you tell her?” Jungkook gulped, his words were shaky. “About not wanting the surgery.”

It was then that you started to break down and it wasn’t from the pain of getting a tattoo. It was the look of complete and utter worry from Jungkook that set you off into a fit of tears.

“Who is there to tell, Jungkook?” you whispered through the tears. “She’s dead.”

He looked at you in shock, not really registering your words. Obviously, your mother hadn’t died from Hanahaki, she already got the surgery. The reason, he knew, must’ve been much more sinister. He didn’t quite know how to approach you as you hiccuped through your tears. He patted your back in reassurance and repeated time and time again that it was okay, that Taehyung and him would be there for you.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” you mumbled. “I’m a shitty friend.”

He shook his head and was about to reply when an unwelcomed guest came bursting through the tattoo parlor doors.

“Jungkooooook,” you heard a yodel, belonging only to a voice you two could recognize perfectly.

Taehyung.

You made swift movements to wipe away the tears from your face and Jungkook pretended as if he was in deep focus on drawing something on your skin. Taehyung entered Jungkook’s station, unassuming and bright as ever. He held a plastic bag with takeout boxes in his hand, presumably food.

“[Y/N]? You’re here too?” he asked in confusion, eyebrows slightly furrowed. "Getting a tattoo?”

You nodded hesitantly and he gave an even more worrisome look.

“Can someone explain what’s going on?” he asked slowly, trying to decipher what was really happening.

Jungkook coughed awkwardly.

“I think I’m gonna check out the other clients for a second,” he said, standing up and setting down his tools. “I’ll be right back, [Y/N].”

You looked at Jungkook pleadingly to stay, but he shook his head. He did not want to get involved in whatever discussion was about to go. You sighed and brushed the strands of your hair that was getting on your face. You just hoped your red eyes from crying went unnoticed.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were getting a tattoo?” he asked sadly, sitting on the stool Jungkook once occupied. “Is this what you meant when you said you were ‘catching up on things’?”

You pursed your lips, not quite knowing how to respond.

“It was a personal thing,” you whispered, massaging the back of your neck. You felt the flowers in your stomach once again.

“What, so you told Jungkook and not me?” Taehyung pouted, setting the food he brought on a nearby table. “I texted him if he was at work and he said yeah. I usually surprise him with Thai food. I didn’t think you were gonna be here too so I only bought enough for two.”

You smiled at him. Taehyung was still as considerate as ever.

He took a look at your tattoo, slightly confused with the realistic flower patterns. His fingers ghosted over them as if to make sure they were real.

“Why flowers?” he asked. He never thought of you as a flora type person. He’s probably never seen you hold a flower in his life.

“None of your business,” you scoffed trying to face away from him. You didn’t want him to see your flustered expression and the puffiness of your under-eyes. He pouted at your words and lack of eye contact.

“You’ve been so distant from me lately, [Y/N],” he said in a cutesy voice. “I feel like Jungkook and you have been hanging out with each other more than with me. I’m starting to feel really left out.”

You chuckled. You weren’t mad at him for barging in during your tattoo session, but you were frustrated with his naivety. There you were getting the most feared items on the world tattooed on your skin and he questioned very little of it? How dense was he really?

“We can hang out some other time, alright Tae?” you said, ruffling his hair lightly. “I just want this first session done and over with.”

He grinned up at you and squeezed your hand that was on his head.

“Then let me stay here to be your emotional support,” he teased, taking your hand into his. You nodded with a smile, but an uncomfortable feeling had erupted in your stomach.

“Will you excuse me for a second?” you asked urgently, pain laced in your voice. He nodded worriedly as he watched you rush off into the restroom. ‘You were having a lot of stomachaches lately,’ he thought to himself.

You covered your mouth with your palm as soon as you were out of Taehyung’s sight, making sure not to throw up anything on the tattoo parlor floor. Jungkook saw you escaping from his station and followed you into the unisex bathroom. He rushed over to you as you threw up into the toilet bowl, some excess flower petals hitting the floor instead. Tears welled up in your eyes as the flowers kept coming in several colors, all different sizes. They were all tulips, stained in blood and mucus, a truly disgusting sight to behold.

Jungkook patted your back gently and tried to ease you through the pain. Your mouth ached as the last petal left your lips and you desperately grabbed onto Jungkook’s thigh as you coughed out blood. Your lips were horribly stained with a deep rouge.

“Water, please,” you pleaded with your strained voice in between coughing fits.

Jungkook got you the water and while you tried to act like nothing happened when you came back to Taehyung who was playing Candy Crush on his phone, he couldn’t help but notice how raspy your voice had gotten since just a few moments earlier and how tired your eyes looked when you stared at him.

“Are you sure you wanna keep on going?” Jungkook whispered to you. “We can have another session tomorrow. I think it’s probably best you go home.”

You shook your head.

“I just want to be with him a bit more,” you said softly, glad that the boy of your affection was so deeply engrossed in his mobile game. “I didn’t lose that much blood.

Taehyung, at the corner of his eye, couldn’t help but see a small pink petal on your shoe with tinges of red splattered on it. He saw the way Jungkook would ask you every 30 seconds if you were feeling okay when he was never the type to talk while he tattoed.

He wondered if it was any of his business to ask.

—

Throughout the next two weeks, Jungkook had finished the various tattoos you wanted through grueling sessions with Taehyung bothering the two of you in the sidelines. Within those weeks, your health had massively deteriorated as well. The number of flowers you threw up increased by the day and the amount of blood that showed up was worrisome, to say the least. You knew your time was coming up, so it was only fair that you were to complete something you desired most before your eventual demise.

Go on a proper date with Taehyung.

Not like the one-on-one hangouts you had with him where you’d throw on whatever. No, you wanted to get dolled up and pretty this time, so you asked him if he wanted to go watch a movie with you and eat dinner after. You knew it wouldn’t change how Taehyung felt about you since he wouldn’t even consider your invitation as a date, but you still wanted to look your best regardless.

You got ready hours before he intended to come over to pick you up. You lathered on several layers of lipstick, not really knowing what you were expecting to happen anyways. When you finally made your way outside, you were satisfied the starstruck look in Taehyung’s eyes

“Wow you dressed up today,” he chided as he saw you exit your dormitory. “You have someone to impress or what?”

He winked at you and you only scoffed in response. It was obvious that he was staring intently at the new tattoos you had embedded into your skin. It was nice seeing him look at you in a way that you weren’t used to... like he actually found you attractive.

“Please, I look good for myself,” you said confidently. “Can’t say the same for you considering you wore that shirt yesterday.”

He clicked his tongue in your direction.

“Whatever, whatever,” he said, waving his hand in front of him. “I get to have you all to myself today. No Jungkook in sight. I could rub this in his face later.”

You laughed at his silliness. If you wanted to delude yourself, you’d have thought Taehyung was jealous. He was so cute, with his hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked at you with a flushed face. You only had to tolerate the fluttering feeling in your stomach for a few hours or so, how bad could it be? You just needed to endure it until Tehyung left and you were free to throw up all the petals you needed to.

“Let’s go to the movies?” you offered and he smiled, agreeing with your suggestion.

It was nice like this, walking by his side without a care in the world. It made you sad to think that this too would be taken away from you. That you’ll never get to hear him babble about dates gone awry or see how his smile would get wider when he saw his favorite food again. It would all be taken away from you eventually, one way or another. You clenched your fist, attempting to focus on his voice rather than the nausea that had overtaken your body.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that you had to love him all alone.

“I don’t think I get to tell you enough how much I appreciate you,” Taehyung said, breaking the comfortable silence between you two. “You always look out for me even when you look like you aren’t.”

You smiled at his compliment.

“There’s no need for that,” you replied. “What kind of friend would I be if I just watched you suffer alone?”

You tried to swallow down the hypocrisy that came with your own words. He had no idea that you were lying through your teeth right then and there. You tensed at the sound of Taehyung chuckling at your comment.

“That’s what friends are for after all,” he said in agreement.

It happened almost suddenly. The first cough and then a second and then you couldn’t stop your knees from hitting the concrete of the city sidewalk.

“[Y/N],” Taehyung shouted, kneeling next to you on the crowded street. His voice was distorted among all the other sounds you were hearing. There were bells, whistles, the sound of an incoming storm. You started hyperventilating.

‘Not here, not here. Anywhere else but here,’ you screamed to yourself in your head.

You clenched your stomach and tried to hold back the impending contents that were soon to escape your lips. You shook your head as tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. You didn’t want Taehyung to see you like this.

“[Y/N], tell me what's wrong,” Taehyung pleaded. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong!”

You couldn’t help as the tears rolled down your face as the first petal left. And then another. By then, a crowd had formed around you two and someone was in the process of calling an ambulance. You couldn’t stop the bloody white roses that escaped your lips, slashing the inside of your throat as more of them came. All parts of your body ached, but your heart hurt the most. Taehyung’s face was in such distress and you were the reason for it.

You were the reason for his pain just as he was the reason for yours.

The last thing you heard before collapsing in his arms was Taehyung screaming your name, the blood mixed with lipstick on your mouth staining his shirt. He called for help and eventually, they did come. They came but it felt like he had already failed you somehow. Like he could’ve done more to protect you.

As the EMTs hauled you off into the ambulance truck, he took one last glance at the pile of flowers that stained the concrete.

It looked too similar to the flowers drawn near your shoulder.

—

Taehyung sat near your hospital bed, clenching his hands together and shutting his eyes to even out his breathing. ‘I’m a dumbass for not realizing earlier,’ he thought to himself.

The nurses had filled him in about your condition just a few moments earlier. He found out that you were six months into being diagnosed with Hanahaki and that you had no intention of getting surgery. It hurt his heart to think that you were suffering all alone, carrying the burden of a terminal illness all by yourself. He hated to think that the person you loved had no idea you were in such pain. Taehyung found himself hating the person you longed for, even if he didn’t know who that was.

He took a glance at your resting features.

You looked so pale in the dim hospital lights and the sound of your heart monitor made him apprehensive. You had Hanahaki and you never bothered to tell him? Was this another one of your secrets you were hiding from him lately? He sighed, burying his face into his palms.

"You don’t deserve this [Y/N],” he said solemnly, brushing away some strands of hair from your face. “Anyone would be lucky to have you be in love with them. That person doesn’t know what they’re missing out on.”

Taehyung went through a list of people in his head who could’ve been your possible unrequited love. It couldn’t be Namjoon, the guy that was helping you out all the time at the bookstore. You two barely talked. It wasn't Seokjin from lecture hall either, you said he wasn't your type. Was it Hoseok from the same department? Perhaps was it-?

He webbed his fingers through his hair out of frustration. Who could it possibly be?

Taehyung was disturbed from his thoughts from a slight knocking sound that continued on for a few seconds.

"Come in," he replied back cautiously.

To Taehyung’s surprise, Jungkook opened the door, a bouquet flowers in his hand as he walked through. Taehyung's body tensed at the sight of him. He had put two in two together and now he clenched his fists together, tightening his jaw.

It was him. It had to be him.

"I would've come earlier, but I wanted to get these for her when she wakes up," Jungkook said solemnly and set the flowers down near the hospital nightstand. "How's [Y/N] holding up?"

Taehyung stood up from the seat next to your bed, cracking his neck to the side to release some tension. He came close to Jungkook, glaring at him in a threatening stance. Taehyung grabbed at his collar.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing bring flowers to a patient with Hanahaki?"

Taehyung's voice didn't sound quite like he usually did. There was a growl akin to anger in the way he spoke. Jungkook pushed him off of him, confused as to why Taehyung was picking a fight with you when you were sleeping just a few meters away.

"It's just a nice gesture," Jungkook seethed. "Why are you being so fucking hostile when you didn't even know she had Hanahaki in the first place?"

Taehyung scoffed, shoving Jungkook by the chest.

"You knew?" he squinted his eyes at Jungkook. "You fucking knew and you didn't do anything about it?"

Jungkook took a look at your sleeping form. He was glad you weren't awake to be hearing this because he was ready to do something he'd regret. He didn’t mind getting kicked out of the hospital if it meant putting Taehyung in his place.

"Why should I do anything, huh?" Jungkook sighed. "I’ve been begging her to get the damn surgery. She won't fucking listen to me!"

Taehyung punched him right then. His wrists were bound to bruise by the impact of it all and Jungkook just stared at him in shock, clutching his cheek.

"It's your fault that she's dying," Taehyung started, tears welling up in his eyes. "You should have fucking tried harder to convince her. You could’ve stopped this."

Jungkook charged at him and pushed Taehyung against the wall. It was a miracle you hadn’t woken up from all the noise they were making. There was bound to be complaints from neighboring rooms for the ruckus the two boys were causing.

"Me?" Jungkook gritted his teeth, taking a good hard look at Taehyung. "You’re saying I'm the reason?"

Taehyung scoffed at his face and pushed him off.

"Who else then? Who else is fucking killing [Y/N]?!" Taehyung cried, his voice echoing in the hospital room.

Jungkook took a step back from him until he soon brought his fist back to hit Taehyung square in the jaw. He fell onto the floor and cringed at the pain.

“I know it’s not my business to say anything,” he mumbled, but loud enough for Taehyung to hear him. “And that it’s between [Y/N] and you but I’m really fucking sick and tired of seeing her break down over someone as incompetent and stupid as-”

“Can you just spit it out already, you piece of shit-”

Jungkook threw another punch at Taehyung when he made his way to stand. He had collapsed on the floor again, trying to readjust his jaw. Jungkook’s hand was bleeding at that point, but he didn’t care one bit. Taehyung deserved everything that was coming to him.

“It’s you,” Jungkook seethed. “You’re the reason why she’s fucking dying!”

Taehyung stared up at him in a state of shock as your body had started to wake up into consciousness. The two boys stared at each other, dripping in anger.

“What did you say?”

—

A/N: Another Taehyung fic up my sleeve! Sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger like that :P The second part will be a lot more intense. Special thanks to @guksflavor for commissioning this and also buying 2 coffees for me, I really appreciate it. It was a whole lot of fun writing this first part and I hope you guys enjoyed it. It’s my first time writing about Hanahaki Disease, so I wanted my interpretation to be slightly unique. I’m so glad I got a request like this from the get-go, since I love these kind of angsty stories. If y’all want to commission for stories or simply donate, my Kofi is linked on my blog. If not, that’s totally fine, I’m thankful for your support either way.

PS. Trash part two comes out at the end of this week, please anticipate it a lot!

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