#images and perhaps graphics will be added soon. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

her-satanic-wiles · 6 months ago

Text

Dawn Chorus - VII

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 6.8k.

Reading Time: 28 min.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, blood drinking, corruption kink, drunk sexual content, dubcon (due to drunk sexual content), fear kink, fingering, frottage, graphic injuries, getting drunk, masturbation, mentions of sexual harassment, multiple orgasms, nipple play, PTSD, rape kink, vaginal fingering, virgin kink

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976 @dolceterzo @whitepawfics @howlingco @sirianisrock

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this fic is quite dark, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my decision. Thank you.

Copia winced at the sound of Mountain’s screams, the agony in his voice too much to bear. Still, he didn’t look away. He wanted to show that he was there for his loyal ghoul, even if this whole ordeal was his fault in the first place. He couldn’t look away because he wanted Mountain’s pain to be his, and prayed to the Dark One that his ghoul would heal soon, and more painlessly than this. The guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders, a constant reminder of the unintended consequences of his actions.

The medical staff were doing their best to treat the demon’s burns, using Hellfire to cauterise the would and hope that it would heal his burn, and strengthen him. But, they could only hope, as none of the staff were old enough to remember the last time an angel fell into the hands of the Ministry and had to do this. Hell, even Copia wasn’t old enough to remember that and he was pushing 300.

Copia felt a sense of shame tightening its grasp on his heart like a vice as his mind returned to the terrifying scene of your fall. When you needed your wings the most, they failed you, and he had watched helplessly as you crashed into the ground. He’d been overcome in that little moment by a feeling of dread, a deep-seated terror that seemed determined to swallow him whole.

He had never been one to run from difficulties, but seeing you in pain had touched something deep inside of him, bringing regret and grief that he had long buried to the surface. He carried the heavy burden of ensuring the security and welfare of his fellow demons as the head of the Ministry, but he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he had let you down when you were most in need. You were in unbearable pain, as was Mountain, and Sister Imperator was breathing down his neck the entire time because he was disappointing her as well. The world was spinning too fast and he just wanted to get off.

Copia felt sorry for you, going over the day’s events in his head in an attempt to find any indication that he could have done more to keep you from falling. Had he been too complacent, too consumed by his own goals to notice his imminent danger? Or had circumstances worked against him, creating a tragic mosaic that was out of his control? Was this infernal intervention to get him to admit to his wrongdoings, and his deep-rooted emotions that he pushed down and down until he could no longer feel them? Perhaps the Dark One was disappointed by him, too.

Copia’s thoughts were plagued by the image of your fall, a constant reminder of your frailty and the harsh turns of events that have the power to break even the most resilient souls. He could still clearly remember the awful feeling in the pit of his stomach as he saw you fall from the sky, your elegant shape swishing and tumbling through the air like a leaf caught in a hurricane. His stomach lurched.

In that heart-stopping moment, time seemed to slow to a crawl, each passing second stretching out into an eternity as Copia’s mind raced with a thousand unanswered questions. How had it come to this? What unseen force had conspired to bring you to the brink of disaster? And most importantly, what could he do to save you from the impending doom that threatened to consume you whole?

The weight of guilt settled heavily upon Copia’s shoulders as he confronted the painful truth that lay at the heart of his turmoil. In the business of the medical wing, with Mountain’s cries as background music, and the echoes of your fall still ringing in his ears, he could no longer ignore the role he had played in your suffering.

The regret he felt for his deeds, his brutality, and his selfishness returned to haunt him with every instant that went by. It was like a never-ending wave of shame that was about to swallow him whole. He remembered the way he had kept you trapped, a helpless prisoner in his domain, subjecting you to unspeakable torment and degradation at his hands.

The insight came to him like a tonne of bricks, bringing to light the depths of his own depravity. He had wielded his power over you like a weapon, using your vulnerability to satisfy his own twisted desires and gratify his basest impulses. In his arrogance and pride, he had convinced himself that he held dominion over you, that you were nothing more than a plaything to be used and discarded at his whim.

But Sathanas, he couldn’t ever forget the way you looked on your knees for him, his thumb in your mouth and those big, wide, innocent eyes staring up at him in confusion, hatred and fear. The way the pigment of your lips stretched over his thumb, the feeling of your tongue laving over his skin as you sucked on the appendage, completely oblivious to the way all the blood in his body was gathering at his cock, and his half-full length screaming at him, begging him to push you onto your back, lift your robes and defile you completely. He couldn’t help but think of the sounds you’d make, if you enjoyed it or would want him to stop. How loud would your pleasure make you scream for him? Or would you long for the safety of your cage as he ravaged you not two metres away from it?

Of course, when he finally had you hanging off his cock, it would be consensual. He was a lot of things, but a filthy misogynist wasn’t one of them. That was the thing that separated the Satanic church from their Catholic siblings, and something he prided himself on. If he fucked you, it would be because you wanted him to. It was half of the reason why he spent so long being so kind to you - that whole event in his chamber where you were on your knees taking what he gave you, you didn’t consent. It was likely that you had no idea that you even needed to, meaning you couldn’t give your consent. He’d broken the one rule he told himself to abide by, and the guilt was eating him alive. And while none of his subsequent actions could make him atone for his sins, he would do the most to make sure he got close enough to it.

But the fact that he’d never do that again didn’t stop him from thinking about it all the time, wrapping his hand around his cock in the shower and imagining how you’d feel beneath him. You’d get so wet for him, willingly or otherwise. Those big, wide eyes staring at him as he took you on his chamber floor, using your body for his own pleasure. You would be his vulnerable, little plaything, and you’d come to enjoy the feel of him buried deep inside you eventually, if you didn’t enjoy the first time you spent together.

Those fantasies would remain thoughts he had in the shower, though. And he’d only act on them with your permission further down the road. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He’d be better than he was before. He swore that. He could and would never hurt you again, no matter how much his mother wanted him to.

Mountain was going to be okay. The nurses worked hard and tirelessly to take away his pain and make him comfortable, but it did mean that he would be out of commission for a short while. Copia couldn’t help but count his blessings at this, now that everything in his life was quiet save for you. And it was to you that his thoughts turned to next.

He made his way back towards his apartments and opened the door slowly, unsure of where you’d be. You were nowhere in the living room, and so he assumed he’d find you in his bedroom - the assumption being correct.

You’d healed, Copia had no doubt that was to do with the fact that you wore your halo for the first time in a long time, and so he didn’t brace himself to see you as the mangled mess you were not one hour ago when you made impact with the ground. But you were curled up in a ball in front of your cage, your wings wrapped around you as though you were holding yourself, comforting yourself like a child who’d been hurt or abandoned by the ones they loved the most.

When Copia saw you curled up on the ground with your wings wrapped around you like a shield, his heart fell. His chest constricted with a twinge of empathy as he saw the anguish carved into your features and the tears still glistening on your cheeks.

He stood motionless in the doorway for a moment, not knowing what to say or do. He wanted to be there for you, to give you some measure of solace, but he was too consumed by the guilt that still weighed heavily on his mind. It was him, after all, who had placed you in this situation, who had caused you to endure unspeakable horrors, and who had caused you to suffer unfathomable pain.

Copia sighed heavily and moved slowly towards you so as not to startle you. He squatted next to you, his hand tentatively hovering over your shoulder before settling it gently. “Angel,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincere worry. “Are you alright?”

He was waiting tensely for your reply, praying beyond prayer that you would let him confide in you, that you would let him feel your suffering and give you the comfort you sorely needed. However, he knew deep down that his regret would always be overshadowed by the weight of his actions and that words could never make up for the harm he had done.

You were silent for a moment, slowly raising your head to meet the Cardinal’s gaze as the significance of his presence began to register. Your eyes scanned his face for any indication of sincerity or regret, a mixture of pain and uncertainty.

“I…” Your voice caught in your throat as a tumultuous storm of emotions whirled around you. When you did finally say, “I do not know,” your voice was hardly audible above a whisper.

Your words carried a heavy weight of vulnerability, a silent cry for empathy and understanding. You wanted to think the Cardinal genuinely cared about you and was sorry for the suffering he had brought upon you. However, uncertainty lurked in the background of your thoughts, muttering flashbacks of past crimes and broken pledges.

The Cardinal’s hand stayed on your shoulder, a reassuring touch in the thick of your unstable feelings. You leaned into his touch, finding comfort in his closeness despite the doubts that kept popping into your head.

You were overcome with a hectic mix of emotions following the fall. Your body was in excruciating pain at the time, a never-ending reminder of the blow and the wounds it had caused. Though now healed, you could still feel how your body had snapped and bent with gravity, your teeth numb with the fear that rose in you, and the flashback of falling from grace. However, the most excruciating part turned out to be the emotional turmoil.

As you struggled to accept your vulnerability, anxiety took hold of your heart. Any illusions of invincibility had been shattered by the fall, and you were suddenly very much aware of your own existence. You felt exposed and defenceless, in stark contrast to the confident persona you had previously projected.

You felt torn about the Cardinal’s attempt at consolation. You recognised the sincerity of his concern in his gesture, and you were grateful for it. Knowing that he was concerned for your welfare was comforting, particularly during such vulnerable times.

But his presence also acted as a sharp reminder of your complicated relationship. It was impossible to get rid of the remaining mistrust and anger that had built up over time, even with his best attempts to provide comfort. Anything sincere he did now was clouded by his past deeds, which included taking you captive and causing you pain.

A part of you wanted to give in to his comfort and let yourself be supported by him. However, there was also a part of you that was cautious, unwilling to lower your defences and make yourself more vulnerable. He had slashed deep wounds, and healing would require more than words of consolation.

“The ghoul,” you began, sitting up from your position and looking at the Cardinal with wet eyes, “will he be alright?”

The Cardinal nodded. “Takes a lot more than angel tears to bring down the Mountain.” He smiled half-heartedly. “What happened up there?”

“I do not know… not completely. My muscles cramped and I could not regain strength. It did not matter how hard I tried, I could not get my wings to work again.” You started to cry again. “I beg of thee, please do not put me back in that cage again. I did not mean to hurt others.”

It was almost as though you could hear the Cardinal’s heart shattering at your words. The Cardinal’s face softened, regret and sympathy present in his features. He extended his hand hesitantly, as though he wasn’t sure if it would be accepted or rejected. He softly reassured you, “I won’t put you back in the cage,” his voice full of genuine sorrow. “I promise.”

There was silence for a brief moment, broken only by the sound of your sniffles and the gentle hum of the room’s ventilation system. You found yourself grappling with conflicting emotions, torn between the desire to accept the Cardinal’s comfort and the instinct to maintain your guard.

You were nervous as the Cardinal helped you off the floor, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He fastened your wings firmly to keep you from escaping by tying them together with the same chain he’d used previously. He had plans for you, plans that involved taking you somewhere, and you felt a twinge of uneasiness.

He told you to follow him, and you did, keeping quick steps to make sure you didn’t fall behind, as he walked you through the Ministry’s corridors and down multiple flights of stairs. Your mind began to race when you realised he was taking you to the basement. Your memory flooded with how you were treated and how you felt when you first were taken there, and your heart raced with the fear that it was going to happen again. Your whole body froze, making the Cardinal turn around a few paces in front of you, and study you for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” He asked.

“I do not wish to go down there again.” You said quietly.

The Cardinal paused, clearly confused, but when he fully registered your body language, he sighed. “You’ll be fine.” He told you, walking back towards you. “We’re not going all the way down to the bottom.”

“Where will we go?”

“Somewhere you can relax and forget about today.” He tugged at your hand. “Let’s go.”

At the base of the stairs that led to the cellar, you hesitated, but the Cardinal steadily held your arm and led you on. The air was thick with the smell of aged wine, and the stone walls were covered in long shadows by the low light.

“Come on, Angel,” the Cardinal urged, his voice soft yet insistent. “It’ll do you good to relax for a bit.”

With uncertain glances up at him, you twitched nervously behind your wings. Even though you weren’t sure about it, there was a part of you that wanted a little break from your problems.

The scent of aged oak and fermenting grapes filled the air as he guided you down to the wine cellar. The long shadows that the low lighting cast against the stone walls heightened the atmosphere of mystery in the subterranean room.

Shivering from the cold, you let the Cardinal pull you deeper as you sighed, taking in the new surroundings. The walls were lined with rows upon rows of wooden barrels, each one holding priceless liquid gold. Stone archways covered each of the rows, as though they were doorways to entirely different rooms.

The Cardinal moved with purpose, selecting a particular bottle and uncorking it with practiced ease. He poured a generous measure of wine into a crystal glass, sparkling in the orange glow of the candlelight, the rich red liquid glinting as it gathered in the cup.

“Here you go,” he said, offering you the glass with a small smile. “A little something to take the edge off.”

You accepted the glass hesitantly, your fingers trembling slightly as you brought it to your lips. The Cardinal watched you intently, his gaze unwavering as you took a hesitant sip.

The wine was unlike anything you had ever tasted before, the flavour bursting across your tongue in a symphony of sensations. It was warm and velvety, with hints of oak and berries dancing on the palate.

Despite your initial reservations, you found yourself taking another sip, then another, until the glass was empty. A warmth spread through your veins, suffusing you with a sense of contentment you hadn’t felt in ages.

The Cardinal placed the bottle down onto a nearby table, and wandered to a different archway, grabbing a bottle you recognised. It was one of the bottles he’d used the last time he’d drained you. He poured himself a glass as well, taking a long sip before setting the glass down on . He leaned against the wall and gestured for you to sit, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“You alright there, Angel?” He asked, his voice soft with genuine concern. “You seem a bit… tense.”

You nodded slowly, the alcohol already starting to cloud your thoughts. “I’m fine,” you replied, your words slurring slightly. “Just… adjusting, I suppose.”

The Cardinal chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, you’re in good company,” he said, taking another sip of blood.

“Cardinal,” you began once you took another sip of wine, “why have you not told the Sister the truth about my halo? Why have you stopped the second ritual?”

The Cardinal sighed and sat down opposite you. “So many questions.”

“I would appreciate an answer.”

“You ask one, I ask one. Deal?”

You nodded. “Why have you not told the Sister the truth?”

“At first it was because of… because I was drunk. But then, I just didn’t want to.” He took a sip of blood. “Why haven’t you escaped yet?”

“At the outset, it was by reason of my frailty. But at present… I find myself in doubt. Pray tell, why did you halt the second ritual?”

“As an apology for my actions.” He refused to make eye contact with you. “I violated you once… the second ritual meant I’d have to do it again.”

You knew that, of course, but hearing him admit to it was something else. “What course of action do you intend to pursue?”

“No, it’s my turn to ask you a question. What’s Yhwh’s plan?”

As far as you knew, even angels were in the dark about Yhwh’s plan. You had been raised to believe that everything takes place in accordance with God’s divine plan and to put your trust in His wisdom and guidance. But recent occurrences had called into question this belief.

You have seen the pain and injustice done to His children, the cruelty and deceit committed in His name. It caused you to wonder if God really did have a plan or if He has just let His creations go free, to be determined by human foolishness and the randomness of luck.

You could only speculate as to the details of His plan. Maybe it was putting His children to the test in terms of their faith and courage, challenging them to overcome hardship and grow stronger as a result. Or perhaps it was about pointing them in the direction of righteousness and enlightenment by imparting to them the true meaning of forgiveness and compassion.

You’d not seen much of that forgiveness and compassion. You wondered if it was even there at all.

You cleared your throat. “If I were privy to such knowledge, I would readily disclose it. Alas, it escapes me, for I am not allowed such insight. Only the Ophanims and beings of higher echelons hold such secrets. What about the second ritual - what does it include?”

The Cardinal nodded in understanding, then spoke. “We have to tempt you with the thing you really wanted; we have to make you need it, crave it… do anything for it. We know what you want, we were going to make you beg for it.”

You paused, considering asking a follow up question but remembering he wouldn’t let you.

“Tell me about the angels. This hierarchy you mentioned… what are you?”

“There are 9 levels of divine power, and I am on the ninth level. I am just a regular angel, there is nothing special about me. The closest to the Almighty are the Seraphims, followed by Cherubims, Ophanims, Dominions, Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Archangels… then me.” You let your information soak in before you took another sip of your wine, you could feel the lightheadedness really begin to take effect now. Your entire body felt warm, relaxed, almost limp. It was a fight to stay upright. “What happens when the Sister finds out that you are lying to her?”

“I don’t know exactly - I just know it’s not gonna be good.” The Cardinal’s words were beginning to slur, the effects of your blood clearly taking hold of him as the wine had taken you. “I’d be forced to step down as head of the Church probably, and she’d take control of your interrogation. And she has so many plans for you. She’d be so much worse than me.”

That you didn’t doubt. In such a short time, and with little interactions, you had a feeling she’d take joy in destroying you. And suddenly, you found yourself grateful for the Cardinal.

“I can’t stop thinking about the other day,” the Cardinal began, looking at you directly in your eyes, “what I did to you when I had control of your halo. I know Celestial beings are supposed to be pure, but did you know what I was doing?”

“I knew that it was sexual.” You replied, honestly. “And I saw that you liked it. Why did you stop?”

“Because you didn’t consent. Did you want me to stop?”

You nodded a little. “Then, I did. But now…”

The Cardinal let out a short exhale, “You’re unsure.” He finished his glass and poured you both another. At this point in the night, it was your third glass each.

“Why did you feel the need to exert control over me in that way?” You asked, taking another sip. “Was it just a display of power, or was there something else driving your actions?”

“Something else. I wasn’t in control of myself. My body did what it wanted. And the sight of you, on your knees, eyes wide and unsure. I wanted to make you cry. I wanted to feel you from the inside out.”

The Cardinal’s words were having an effect on you, more than you ever knew could be possible. A weird feeling swept through you as the Cardinal’s words passed over you. It was a stirring of something deeper within you, not fear or disgust as one might expect. There was an irresistible charm to his candour, a rawness that appealed to the primitive urges hidden deep within your celestial essence, even though his confession was unsettling.

You were drawn to his vulnerability in sharing such personal thoughts with you and enthralled by the intensity of his desires. It was as though a curtain had been drawn back to show you a side of the Cardinal you had only ever seen during the shadow of secrecy and darkness. It was odd, but you found yourself drawn to it, drawn to him, in a way that excited and scared you at the same time.

Something inside you sparked at the Cardinal’s admission, an innate desire that throbbed beneath the surface of your celestial body. Something pulled at the very fabric of your being, a sensation unlike anything you had ever felt before—a blending of curiosity and desire. And as you locked eyes with him, there was a silent understanding that grew between you, an acceptance of the unspoken truths that united you in ways you could not have fully imagined.

If he did the same thing to you now - you weren’t confident you’d push him away.

The Cardinal studied you intently, his eyes following the minute changes that danced over your heavenly body. Your essence seemed to pulse with a newfound intensity that reflected his own desires, and he could feel the shift in your energy. You had a hunger in your eyes, a primal longing that expressed so much without saying a word.

The Cardinal felt a rush of excitement and anticipation as soon as he realised that you were sincere about your feelings. It set his senses alight and made his pulse race. He was drawn into the depths of a connection that felt both forbidden and irresistible by the flicker of desire dancing in your eyes. It was a silent invitation that beckoned him closer.

He stood and walked over to you, that same predatory look in his eye that this time, you welcomed. You were going to blame it on the alcohol, but perhaps that would be your first lie.

“Do you like the thought of that, Angel?” He teased, approaching you slowly as if you would run from him at the slightest movement.

You found yourself nodding, unable to stop yourself before you realised the implications of what you’d just confirmed. He stood in front of you, reaching his gloved hand to place it on your chin and allow the leather atop his thumb to graze over your lips a second time.

You swallowed, “Wh-why are you turning m-me into a demon?” You asked, breathlessly, still trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy despite the alcohol running through your veins, and the heat pooling between your legs.

“Because we thought it would make you easier to control.” The Cardinal whispered, dropping his face close to yours. “We didn’t know how to bend you to our will using your halo, so we wanted to drag you to Hell with us. How old are you, Angel?”

“Older than matter.”

“And you’ve been so deprived for so long? Sweet angel, no wonder you’re the way that you are.” His face was now mere centimetres from yours, you could feel his breath fanning above your top lip as he spoke. “You’ve already committed the worst sin imaginable for an angel, haven’t you? Questioning him and being shunned for it.” He put his gloved hands on yours and pulled you off the chair, raising your left one to his lips. “One more sin couldn’t hurt, could it?”

His lips trailed up your arm and ended their journey at the crook of your neck, where he licked and kissed at the sensitive skin. The heat between your legs became unbearable, as your fingertips clutched onto his arms. Your body was fighting against itself, your arms pushing him away, but fingers pulling him towards you. You sighed at the newfound sensitivity, now realising how incredible it felt to have someone there, lavishing you with gentle touches and sin.

This was a sin. You should fight against it, and fight harder.

“It is God’s will that I should be sanctified,” you muttered, breathlessly, recalling the words of the Almighty that you’d remembered, “that I should avoid immorality; that I should learn to control mine own body in a way that is holy and honorable, not in passionate lust like the pagans, who do not know God.”

You felt Copia smile into your neck, his ministrations stopping temporarily. “Matthew 26:41: ‘Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.’” You felt the Cardinal’s hands move to your waist and pull you flush against his hard body, something particularly hard poking out from beneath his cassock and hitting against your hip. “All flesh is weak, Angel. Even yours. Can you do it, I wonder? Can you resist me despite your body calling for me?”

You lifted your hand to his hair and tugged it, pulling his head away from you. You looked into his eyes, dark and lustful as they bore into your soul, reading you like an open book so willing to be read. Your mind was screaming at you, yelling at you to push him away. But your hands, of their own free will, grasped onto his neck and pulled him towards you, your lips crashing onto his with such force, it almost hurt.

His tongue entered your mouth desperately, leading the kiss despite you initiating it. It was your first, and it had taken your breath away whilst heightening all your other senses. You could feel the way his moustache tickled your upper lip, the ferociousness of his tongue sliding against yours as he gave himself over to the pleasure with no resistence. His gloved hands tightened on your waist, and pushed you against the table, forcing you to sit on top of it and spread your legs, inviting him between them.

That tongue tasted like your blood, and you should feel repulsed by the monster who took what he wanted from your body, now in more ways than one. But the iron tang of your blood on him excited and thrilled you in a way it shouldn’t - in a way that would have you cast into the Abyss with no one looking back.

Your nipples hardened beneath your white robe, and wetness seeped out from between your thighs. Your heart was rushing a million miles per minute, and your lungs could barely keep up. And all the while, the Cardinal’s hands roamed over your body, travelling, gripping, groping, and pulling at your flesh.

He could feel your nipples poking through your robes, the way your hips unknowingly bucked against his hardness, begging for him to ravage you right there. Whimpers had begun to fall from your lips as you lost yourself into the warmth of his body, allowing his own to swallow them and feed him, fuel his desires to have you.

You moaned deliciously when his gloved hand rested on your thigh, pulling the white fabric up to expose your skin, and you truly sounded heavenly when the same thumb that had been in your mouth weeks before, and traced over your lips today, made contact with a sensitive bundle of nerves and you gasped, breaking the kiss and looking into his lustful eyes.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, his voice gravelly and quiet. You shook your head and it earned a chuckle. “So innocent.” His voice was gentle, filled with a condescension that made your stomach flip. “So neglected. Given a body and not shown how to use it. This is called a clitoris.” He kissed you again and put more pressure on your clit, making you moan a little louder. “When I play with it, I can make you sing. I can make you reach a place more divine than Heaven. Does it feel good, Angel?”

“Yes!” You hissed, your eyebrows furrowing upwards and your mouth falling open. Your nostrils flared as your body tried to take in as much oxygen as it could, especially when the Cardinal picked up the pace and continued to rub circles into your flesh.

“You never touched yourself, have you?” He asked. He knew the answer, so he didn’t expect you to respond. “You should. The beauty of this form is that you can give yourself pleasure whenever you want.” He nibbled at your jaw. “However you want.” Your body tensed. “Virgins are so easy to please. So quick to cum.”

Your toes curled, your back arched, your voice screamed out as your nails dug into the thick fabric of his clothes. His fingers kept working the surface, never dipping inside or changing their speed.

“Can you feel it, Angel?” He asked, licking over your top lip. “The pressure building inside you? Feeling like you’re about to burst open?”

“Y-yes!” Your moans were wanton now, unabashed. You didn’t even think to be quiet, this felt too good to think of anything else.

“When you’re ready, let it happen. Let yourself feel it. Let yourself explode.”

“It’s too m-much!” You cried out, hips bucking of their own accord into the Cardinal’s hand.

“Aw,” he feigned sympathy, “I know, baby. Your first orgasm. Don’t look away from me. Look into my eyes when it happens, okay?”

“Okay-ah!”

It didn’t take much more until your whole body spasmed. You didn’t know what the sensation was, and there was a little fear in your eyes as it first began to take hold of you, freezing your body down to your breath and holding you there. The sensitivity on your clit spread everywhere, to your toes, up to your brain. You could practically taste it on your tongue. All the while, you continued to look into your tormentor’s eyes, mouth agape and lungs fighting for air that left your body long ago.

The Cardinal stared at you the whole time, eyes pinned on your face and studying your reaction to your first orgasm, taking untold pleasures from it.

“How was that?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“G-good.” You replied, breathlessly, eyes closing over.

The Cardinal laughed, something small and new. “Don’t rest on me, yet.” You watched him fumble at his crotch and pull himself out from between the buttons of his cassock, but you didn’t get the chance to see… him.

You felt him rub against your folds, the tip stroking against your clit as he rocked back and forth. Both of you hissed at the contact, for you because of your sensitivity, and for him because he was finally getting some pleasure. He was thick, and heavy, and slid against your folds so well you had to grip onto the desk just because your hands needed something to hold.

Every now and then, you could feel the tip at your entrance where he’d pulled back a little too far, and the first time he did it your eyes shot open in panic. “Not in - ah! - not inside! Please! He’ll s-see.”

The Cardinal groaned, pushing forward involuntarily and sighing at the feeling of your wetness coating him. “I won’t.” He reassured you. “I want to, though.”

“You can’t!”

“I know. You th-think he’s watching, Angel?” The Cardinal chuckled as he picked up the pace. “You think your god is watching one of his angels get - fuck! - ruined by a son of Satan?”

You felt your hole clench around nothing. You shouldn’t - but you did.

“Good,” the Cardinal continued, holding onto your hips to help him use you, “let him see. I want him to see what happens when he neglects his creations. When his creations discover themselves. Fuck, you’re so wet!”

Your back arched further, pressing your hips against him more firmly. You leaned back, allowing your shoulders to hit the wall behind you and rest against the brick, as much as your tied wings would allow anyway. He watched your body jiggling as he rubbed against it, wondering how much more you’d do so when he was thrusting in and out of your virgin hole. He thought about how tight you’d be. He knew a virgin being tight was nothing more than misogynistic propaganda, but he couldn’t help but think about it. He watched your tits bounce with each thrust, and stared at the way your nipples continued to poke through the fabric, begging to be teased and bitten.

“Pinch your nipples.” He ordered.

You moved your hands up to where he wanted them and began to rub over the peaks, pinching them between your thumbs and forefingers and moaning loudly at the sensation - feeling your hole clench around nothing again. Everything he was doing to you, everything he got you to do to yourself, felt exquisite. You understood, now, why you’d watch entire civilisations descend into madness and violence just to feel the warmth of another body in the victorious afterglow. You understood why this would be a celebratory act because you felt nothing but pleasure - a high you’d never experienced before, not even up in Heaven serving the almighty.

The thought should scare you. The fact that you were turning to sin, and had done so so easily should have terrified you beyond belief. But you pinched your nipples harder, crying out as the Cardinal’s cock grazed over your clit for the millionth time, about to reach your second orgasm of the night.

The second one was just as powerful as the first, so earth-shatteringly good your toes curled again and you bit your lip so hard, you could taste your own blood. Your whole body tingled under your touch and his, barely registering his groan before you felt something wet on your pubic mound and dripping down your labia onto the table below you. You sat up and looked, finally seeing him in his entirety. The Cardinal had orgasmed, too, except his was much messier. Your body and his was covered in the whiteness that had spewed from him, and while you didn’t know the name, you knew that it was needed to bring life into the world.

The Cardinal was red-faced and panting from the exertion, as were you. Both of you spent and clear headed.

Clear headed.

Your mind began racing, thinking about what you’d just done. When the passion faded, a flood of contradictory thoughts and emotions swept over you along with a wave of clarity. You noticed the Cardinal’s laboured breathing and his conflicted expression of vulnerability and satisfaction. You realised that what you had just shared was more than just physical pleasure; it was an intimate moment between two creatures who had previously been bound by circumstance and desire.

But as the reality of the situation settled in, so did the weight of guilt and uncertainty. You couldn’t ignore the implications of what had transpired in the wine cellar. Despite the intense connection you had felt in the heat of the moment, you knew deep down that this was not how things were meant to be. You were an angel, a child of the Almighty and a being of righteousness, and he was a vampyre—a man of the cloth, sworn to uphold the debauchery of his Satan’s might.

As soon as the Cardinal’s eyes met yours, you could see the same turmoil in them. He was obviously thinking about the consequences of what you had done. Now that the lines between you had been crossed, you had to deal with the fallout.

When you looked at the potential repercussions of your sin, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret. How would this affect your relationship with him, which was already tense? What about the Sister, who would be furious after learning everything the Cardinal had revealed to you?

What about your God? How disappointed He’d be if He saw you now, nothing more than a whore for the Devil? Giving yourself so willingly to him despite all of the Almighty’s teachings… letting Lucifer into your heart when you should have cast him out.

But in the middle of all of this chaos, there was also a moment of brief relief from the bonds that had held you captive for so long. For a split second, you had given in to lust and accepted the forbidden fruit of passion.

The Cardinal grabbed a serviette from one of the shelves and cleaned you both up, before straightening himself out again. He watched you, saw your demeanour shift back to the wariness you used to have when he first let you out of the cage. You couldn’t ascertain his thoughts, but he knew you were absolutely regretting what had just transpired between you.

One thing became obvious as you sat there, trying to make sense of the tangled mess of emotions whirling inside of you: the relationship between you and the Cardinal would never be the same. The friendship that had been formed in the wine cellar had changed your lives forever, for better or worse. You had no choice but to wait and see where fate would lead you as you faced the uncertain future that lay ahead.

That morning, as you both made your way into his chamber and he’d removed the restraints from your wings, you willingly crawled into your cage, curled up, and hid yourself from his view. You didn’t get much sleep that day.

Prev./Next

62 notes · View notes

thelaughtercafe · 1 year ago

Text

BEN Drowned, Jeff the Killer, Homicidal Liu, and Doctor Locklear finding out their victim has a tickle kink

Tea Type: Rose Boba

Potential Triggers: Dubious consent (for tickling only) in BEN’s, and Jeff’s- Liu and Locklear are established relationships so it’s different.

Suggestive speaking of tickling especially in BEN's and Liu's and similar suggestiveness surrounding fear/enjoying being scared in BEN's.

For Liu's there's threatening and violence, though what's directed at Reader is not from Liu or Sully.

There is a graphically worded description of violence involving eyes though, towards the perpetrator though it's not dwelled on too long and the intensity of the injury isn't described, just implied.

Pairing: BEN/F! Reader, Jeff/F! Reader, Liu/Sully/F! Reader, Locklear/F! Reader

Length: 6.8k+

Summary: The Creeps find out something interesting about their intended victim and decide maybe keeping them around isn't such a bad idea.

A/N: So looking back this is much longer than I realized. Especially BEN and Liu's! They're my faves, tied for number one so I suppose I went overboard haha. HABIT from EverymanHYBRID is right up there though in second place. I already continued the self-indulgent BEN lead in, while including HABIT and Liu in the mix so we'll see if I post it. If you guys have any interest, let me know and I'll post it if enough people want to see it!

Also, please let me know if you want any additional triggers added; I think I got them all, but just in case!

BEN Drowned:

BEN was nothing if not meticulous when learning all he could about his victims. While typically he liked to do all his research at the start, he felt like a change of pace with you, doing it in the moment could be more fun and perhaps frighten you even more as he could go by your most recent searches and documents. That never failed to add an extra edge of panic.

It was inevitable he would find your dirty little secret; especially in a document with no password and nothing to guard it save the word twordish.

“Foolish girl…”

He took in the information easily, and couldn’t help the sadistic smirk that lit up his face, fingers twitching with sparks.

“Not as innocent as you seem after all, huh?”

That good girl image you held was what initially drew him to you as prey but clearly…there was a side to yourself you hid from him. From everyone, in fact.

A part of you liked being scared, and therefore what he was doing to you. Memories hit him then. The blush that would frequently appear on your cheeks, eyes darting to the side, half sighs and even the occasional clenched thighs all made sense now when put together.

You’d recently decided to ditch your technology in an attempt to get rid of him, hence why he was looking for something to draw you back. Appearing in reality and making you frightened of things that aroused you, only to then turn that fear itself into arousal again made him ravenous.

It’d been so long since he’d had a victim perfectly suited to his love of fucking with their minds. He couldn’t wait to have you screaming underneath him, the fear that would fill your eyes, the tears…

He bit back a moan and sighed in much the way you had.

Oh, he couldn’t wait.

—–

That boy was definitely stealing glances at you. You were sure of it now.

You were at the library again, comfortable in your reading corner in a secluded room when a boy walked in. He wore jean shorts, black converse, a dark green hoodie and a matching beanie on a cursory glance.

You assumed he’d entered to look for a book in here and that he’d leave soon and returned your eyes to the book in your hands.

You flinched a little in surprise as he suddenly spoke, making you look up again.

“Mind if I sit here?”

His voice sounded older than you expected, in his 20’s for sure despite his shorter stature, but there was still a quality to his voice that called you back to childhood, an underlying playfulness.

It…made you uneasy rather than comforted for some reason though and you felt dread in you that wasn’t there before. Hmph. You’d just be a little more vigilant.

Still, you smiled and nodded, as you would for anyone else and he smiled back, before taking a seat and starting to scroll through his phone.

Your smile instantly dropped and you trembled a moment as memories assaulted you of that thing that’d been messing with you from every screen available. Another reason you picked this room. It was far away from the computer room and the only screen in the adjacent room was facing away, towards the library clerk.

Using your phone for contact was unavoidable, but you’d had it on airplane mode for ages now, only taking it off to check email and communication once a week before putting it right back on. Given you were putting yourself through college which was currently in the off season of Summer while you worked to pay tuition meant you only had one person to keep in touch with, your Mom.

The rest of the time when you weren’t working was spent here, in safety and solitude. Luckily, the boy’s screen was facing away, but you moved an extra seat away just for comfort’s sake before letting out a shaky breath and returning to your book.

It took a few minutes but eventually you fully relaxed again. Until the back of your neck prickled anyway. You risked a discreet glance up, and caught the boys’ rushing back to his screen. Once was a mistake. Twice, perhaps a coincidence. Thrice, maybe he was checking you out? But four times? Now you were full on anxious. The dread since he’d initially spoken to you was now a solid, immovable pit in your stomach.

You were debating how best to leave discreetly while pretending to read when he cleared his throat, much closer than you would like. You stood instinctively but he continued walking over until he was in front of you and smiled amicably. He seemed nice enough but why was your body screaming at you to run? Your gut typically wasn’t off…but it had told you to download that damned file in the first place so maybe you were just wrong.

You smiled back, just as innocently, tilting your head to the side.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just fine. I know this might be somewhat forward, but any chance you want to get some hot chocolate with me?”

That made you giggle.

“Hot chocolate huh? How old are you again?”

You found the tease coming easy to you and relaxed. So it really was just interest. Hm. In all honesty, he was your type. He was quite a bit taller than you despite being around average height, and his blue eyes were quite hypnotizing. His blond locks were messy but in that cute, wind tousled way and he had this roguish charm that was mischievous. You’d always been drawn to things she shouldn’t be. He was no different.

He pulled an offended face at your question.

“Who doesn’t like hot chocolate? Are you coming with me to the cafe or not smartass?”

He quipped, turning on his heel and walking towards the door.

You hesitated a beat and then you let yourself smile, following after.

“Yeah yeah, I’m comin’.”

—–

The walk to the cafe was comfortable and you found your earlier fears assuaged.

He made conversation easily; you’d asked what he was doing on his phone and he’d said he was using an emulator to play Zelda. You had fond memories of the series and found he did as well, leading to a lighthearted debate over if Twilight Princess or Majoras Mask was better.

The cafe was just as peaceful, with you both getting hot chocolate. It was summer, but you found you didn’t mind as he pushed you aside with his shoulder to pay for both of you. It didn’t take much to make you swoon, and he was well on his way at this rate. Respect was hard to find these days and he was being such a sweetheart. He was funny too and you seemed to have common interests. What was there not to like?

He motioned to the book beside you as you sipped your drink.

“So you like Becca Fitzpatrick? Can’t say I’ve heard of her. The cover is interesting though.”

“Yeah! I’m a lover of supernatural romances. Even guilty pleasure stuff like this…probably not the most healthy relationship. It’s about a fallen angel and a Human who fall in love, but Patch at the start; he uses his powers to mess with her pretty often.”

He casually sipped his drink before tilting his head.

“What kind of powers?”

“So far? Talking directly in her head, taunting her about intimate knowledge he shouldn’t have about her and her life, and messing with her memories. Making her think she’s crazy. He kind of almost killed her once already, but changed his mind last minute. It’s…toxic logically but as guilty pleasure fuel it’s hot. I guess. I dunno. I try not to think about it too much."

You laughed sheepishly, embarrassed about rambling and about such a weird ass topic only to hear him laugh.

"We all have our kinks right? I’d love to see your full collection back at your place. Think we could swing by if it’s close?”

You nodded at that, moving to throw out your now empty cups as you headed out with him following after.

“Yeah sure. It’s mostly supernatural romance though but I do have some video game art books you might like that I can lend you, long as you promise to take good care of them. I’ve got a really big game collection too."

Oops that slipped out. You didn’t want to tell him about your weird issues with tech. Not when things were going so well. Too late now though. His eyes had lit up as he asked excitedly.

"Oh cool, really? What’s your favorite?”

“The World Ends With You. It’s kind of indie but-”

“The one with Neku right? I love that game too! Most people don’t know about it!"

Your eyes lit up despite yourself. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. As long as you were just talking about them and not playing them it should be fine.

The walk from the cafe to your house was short so the distraction was nice. You were half tuned in to the conversation half dreading his reaction when you headed inside.

“Alright here we are.”

You led the way inside, unlocking the door and headed to your room with him in tow. He closed the door behind him and looked around in awe.

"Woah. You’re definitely a gamer.”

Given you had a ps4, a Nintendo switch and a ps3 all underneath your TV at once you saw why he thought that. But then his brow furrowed and you braced yourself.

“Why is everything unplugged though? Even the tv looks dead."

A glance over at your laptop on the desk, very intentionally unplugged from the charger.

"Laptop too.”

Your smile was tight and anxious and you felt shaky.

“I-um-”

He smiled amicably as he turned back to face you.

“Don’t tell me you’re doing some tech detox! Those things don’t actually help you know; you’ll just get more addicted when you return to it later.”

He joked, and you felt like you could breathe again, laughing to hide your anxiety.

“Y-Yeah how’d you know?”

Just as you were about to confirm his claim a loud, and most importantly familiar beep rang out and you panicked, breathing already getting harder as you searched frantically for the source.

“That’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible? Hey, are you ok? You’re awfully pale and jumpy all of a sudden.”

He touched your arm lightly and your gaze moved to him. That’s right!

“I-um-God. I have a confession to make but first can you please turn off your phone?”

You knew it sounded crazy, even to you, but you couldn’t risk it. You’d happily have gone along with the tech detox excuse but…but you couldn’t risk giving it an in again. Better to be safe and tell an outsider in a tech free environment.

“My phone? Uh…why though?”

“I promise I’ll explain but we’re not safe until-ugh I sound like a lunatic."

You hid your face in your hands for a moment, cheeks burning in humiliation and panic.

"You can leave if this is too weird. I know I’m not making much sense but I just-there’s a very important reason I can’t be near tech.”

A hesitant peek up and the boy was taking you in with such sweet worry…and then he sighed in defeat.

“…Fine. If it’ll really make you feel better and you’ll explain.”

He looked at his phone and then pocketed it after holding down the power button and turning it off. His gaze returned to you, expectantly.

“There. Now what’s got you so panicked? You love video games, that much is obvious. So why would you unplug everything like this?”

You still trembled. The fear lingered, along with hope. Finally, someone you could confide in.

“I’m-again this is gonna sound crazy but…”

A broken laugh escaped you.

“I have nothing else to lose, I guess. I’ve got some kind of awful…thing watching me.

His face screwed up at the very thought like he was offended.

"A thing? What, like some kinda hacker?”

You hummed, moving to sit down on your bed and fiddled with your fingers.

“Yeah. Kind of. But it’s more than that. See, if it was on one computer and my phone, that’d make sense. It’s what I thought at first. The calling me by name, the popups to scare me and chat with me where even more personal details were revealed…all that could be a hacker.”

You clenched and unclenched your hands as you swallowed nervously.

“But that wasn’t where it ended. It followed me. Any screen in my line of sight it’d taunt me. Send me pictures of myself. Display messages making fun of me for trying to escape. Even then. I thought…maybe just a really good hacker right?”

You risked a glance at him, and he looked down at you nodding encouragingly.

“Yeah. I could see it being some black hat who just…saw you as an easy target and wanted to really fuck with you. But something tells me there’s more.”

You smirked bitterly.

“…it knew things it shouldn’t. Like; things I’d never said aloud or confessed online; so no mic work or camera or internet involved.”

“That’s impossible. Maybe you did and just don’t remember?’

You shook your head.

"I mean…Gods I swear I head it in my head once.”

“Like Patch?”

“Yeah actually exactly like-”

“Like this maybe?”

You couldn’t help it. You yelped, and jerked looking around in fear, tears instinctively filling your eyes. You’d know that glitched, demonic in its deepness tone anywhere. It haunted your nightmares.

He looked at you worriedly, grounding you again with a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, come back to me! You good?”

He frowned seriously as your eyes refocused on him and you sniffled comforted by the kindness in his blue eyes.

“It just did it. It-it-I just- I don’t know why this demon is doing this to me.”

That was what did it. You looking up at him, teary eyed and desperate, thinking he was your knight in shining armor when really he was the monster in your closet all along.

He caressed your face softly, cupping your cheek so he could see every micro-expression and then he grinned.

“Because it’s fun. Why else?”

His tone was so sweetly gentle that it took you a moment for the actual words meaning to click and when they did you shivered.

“Tha-That’s not funny. I’m not playing around.”

He pulled back to swagger around the room, the same and yet completely different all at once, as he hummed.

“Hmm… shame. Feels like a game to me and a fun one at that. Y'know, I never did tell you my name, and luckily your cute romantic naivete ensured you went with it when I told you they didn’t define us. Why don’t you ask me again now that I’m ready to answer you?”

You shook your head, eyes flicking to the door as you tried to hold yourself together. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t.

“No.”

You stood and despite expecting to be stopped you made it to the door. Exhilaration and adrenaline fueled you and as you went to open the door-

“Ouch!”

You jerked away as you were violently shocked the second your hand made contact with the doorknob. Your mind raced. When had you closed the door?

“You didn’t.”

You flinched and reluctantly turned to face your captor trying to put on a brave face as he smirked and cornered you against the door, hovering over you with his hands on either side of your trembling frame.

His entire demeanor had shifted on a dime. The sweet kind boy from earlier may as well never have existed. This person in front of you- no this monster looked all too amused at your fearful denial. But there was eagerness in his eyes too. More passionate than any he’s shown when engaging in your conversations before.

“You’re so easy to predict. I charged the doorknob when I closed it; did you like my little mind trick earlier too? Heh "

He snickered.

"The only way you’re getting out is if I open the door first. Now then…”

He tilted his head condescendingly, blue eyes seeming to spark with the demand.

“Say it. I know you want to know.”

You weakly shook your head and flinched again as he hissed at you, raising his voice a little and drawing closer to your face.

“Do it!”

“Fine! W-What are you?”

He pulled back to snicker, calm as if he wasn’t making you a frightened mess.

“Tsk tsk, what a different question than who but I suppose I’ll answer both since I’m feeling gracious.”

He met your eyes and you whimpered as he grabbed your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact.

“My name is BEN. But you already knew that little mouse didn’t you~?”

His voice was a coo and your cheeks heated despite yourself even as you were filled with icy fear at the confirmation. He even used that stupid nickname that always flustered you. No-one else would know that. You ached with the want to look away but he was way too strong. Pushing at his chest did nothing but make him throw his head back in light laughter.

“Ahahaha! Aww that’s adorable. Don’t make me pin your arms down darling, we were getting along so well earlier. Now! As for your other question. I suppose there is many things you could consider me. A virus, a lost soul, a villain, technically I used to be Human and those fools who know of me online call me legend, a Creepypasta but now, knowing what name you’d give me is what I’ll go by I think. What was it you called me? A demon? I can roll with that."

Your breath hitched as he leaned down cooing lovingly in your ear.

"After all you like demons, don’t you cutie? You can be my Nora and I’ll be your Patch. "

You scoffed and he growled low, demoni- cruel, and glitchy.

Yet you were so scared, so wound up over months of torment and anxiety that you just broke. Constantly being on edge and paranoid. Now you have a direct source to vent your frustrations. Of course it’d bubble over.

“Get off me you psychopath!!”

You raised your voice, something exceedingly out of character and pushed him back harshly, right into the corner of your desk, making him wince. A brief flash of surprise filled his face and then he was snarling, and advancing on you.

Luckily, you’d already used his shock to turn on your heel and go for the doorknob again and this time we’re successful. You crossed the threshold when a deceptively weak looking arm pulled you back as you struggled and tried to elbow him while his other arm held you to him with another arm resting casually against your shoulders by your neck.

"No!"

All pretense was lost and he laughed openly against the side of your neck, relishing your squirming as he easily kept you in check.

“You actually caught me off guard. Guess seeing me in the flesh is a little intense huh? Even made a weak little thing like you go for fight just for an opportunity of flight. I suppose now is as good a time to mention as any.”

His mouth moved to your ear where he whispered.

“I know your secret~”

You frowned, wracking your brain for anything else he could use as ammo but came up empty so you called his bluff.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

And then his fingers squeezed at your waist and you squealed and jerked in his grip and it clicked what he meant. But before you could voice it, he spoke up.

“Like this. Who’d have guessed a seemingly innocent girl like you would have a goldmine of kinks and scenarios for me to play with you with just waiting to be exploited.”

You shook a little, but this time the trembling wasn’t from fear alone, it was withheld arousal too, especially as you could swear his teeth, his fairly sharp teeth- grazed your ear and made you jerk, followed by his hiss in your ear.

“Guess you really are a tickle slut. You like fear too which is just perfect for me.”

Your voice was admittedly breathless as you stopped struggling, simply holding his other arm, positioned around your neck.

“What-What are you going to do with me?”

“I’m going to make you mine of course. I like you, so I’ve decided I want to keep you. I think you’ll find the arrangement to your liking, once you get used to the other inhabitants anyway. I’ll introduce you more intimately. I know you can get anxious in big groups so after your initial intro to everyone it’ll be smaller groups. And in our free time…”

You quickly descended into giggles as the hand at your waist spidered up and down your whole left side, making you squirm and blush. You were distracted so you squealed as his tongue brushed your ear, making you shudder in lust before a hesitant moan left your lips at the cruel and exhilarating words that left his lips. With no need to maintain a facade, his voice deepened and sounded twisted, glitching as he purred.

“I’ll take my time breaking you.”

Jeff the Killer:

Jeff would already be faltering. You’d been bullied for many a year by now. Of course, the bullies had already been disposed of, but Jeff was triggered heavily by the weakness he saw in you. He feels an odd sense of ownership.

When you flinch in your sleep and giggle, Jeff frowns in confusion from where he had been watching you while he grappled with his thoughts.

You mumble in your sleep, and his eyes move to your hands as you seem to try and push someone away before slapping the air, a grin and evident blush on your face as you squirm.

"Mike s-stop- quit ihihihit!! Damn it no! Not thehehere!”

Jeff experiences a brief flash that has him stumbling back a step and swallowing hard.

A much younger him, Liu, shrieking in laughter under his wiggling fingertips.

Right. Tickling.

Is there a weakness you don’t have?

He frowns in discomfort and quickly moves to dig into your sides, covering your mouth with his free hand to muffle your squeal of laughter.

As you struggle underneath him, Jeff glares as you eye him in fearful shock between gasps of forced mirth.

“Gods, you’re so pathetic. Yet another weakness I’ll have to train you to cope with.”

Right. Training. You could serve as a good partner if he worked you hard enough.

His voice is gruff, and he only pulls his hand away when you’re out of breath not moving from where he’s straddling your waist.

“Who…f-fhuhuhuck me- who the Hehehell are you?”

Jeff snickers immaturely at your word choice before he smirks.

“The man who saved you from those pricks sweetheart. Means you owe me and I’ll be takin’ you under my wing. You either come willingly or…”

He twirls his knife with practiced skills and watches you take in his offer, smirking with intent.

“I’ll take ya by force and tickle you more in front of all my friends, soon as we’re home.”

Homicidal Liu:

You’d always liked Liu. He was sweet, attentive, attractive; truly the whole package. You’d been getting closer to Liu for a few months now and despite Liu warning you that he had an alternate personality you hadn’t met you’d accepted him with open arms. At least now you knew why he’d been procrastinating on answering your request to date.

He’d looked so shocked as you threw your arms around him.

“You really don’t mind? Sully isn’t- he’s the opposite of how I normally am. He’s not exactly…palatable to most. He can be quite intense.”

You raised your chin confidently at that and smirked slightly.

“Well I’ve dealt with you when you’re being particularly needy- I think I’ll be okay. Besides; he’s a part of you. I’m sure I’ll come to love him too!”

Your confident declaration suddenly fell apart as you scrambled for the right words, going red.

“Ah-well I mean- if he would be okay with that obviously!! I’d never-”

Liu cut you off with a laugh and tugged you into his chest, lovingly nuzzling the top of your head as you mumbled defeatedly into his chest.

“I’m not very good at this huh? Sorry.”

Liu shuddered suddenly, a full body shake that made you pull back to look at him in worry. He firmly turned his face away from you, avoiding your concerned gaze before he was ready and clearing his throat as the tremors faded. He sighed in relief and smiled gently at you.

“Sorry about that love. Didn’t mean to make you worried. It seems Sully is a little too eager. I don’t want you meeting until we’ve been dating a while first. I…well.”

He looked nervous before his blue eyes bore into yours.

“Admittedly I want you all to myself. You fell for me first, not him. Can’t have him stealing my girl, even if he is a part of me.”

You couldn’t hold back your quickly growing smile if you tried.

“So that’s a yes? Thank you thank you thank you!”

You laughed, giddy as you hugged him so tight your new boyfriend nearly spun.

—–

It happened a month in, rather unexpectedly.

Liu had come to pick you up from work at the movie theater as per your usual schedule. Your coworkers already were familiar with him from your past months getting to know each other and he waved amicably to anyone he saw, chatting a few moments as he waited for you to emerge from where you’d gone to put out the garbage for the night. When you didn’t return after several minutes, his brow furrowed in worry.

He told your coworkers he was going to check in on you and they waved him off, distracted by their own closing duties. It was late, dark out and already, Liu was feeling anxious. He’d never liked the dark. Not after that night. He rounded the corner where the dumpster and hopefully you awaited and locked on a situation he never thought he’d see again.

Someone he loved, with a knife to her throat.

No-one would be taken from him again.

You meanwhile, were petrified. Tears swam in your eyes that you refused to let fall as the man currently holding you captive against him hissed into your ear.

“Here’s the plan sweetheart, you’re gonna lead the way inside with me and we’re gonna go right over to the cash registers. Take out every bit inside and bring it all out back here. All your little coworkers, the ones that are left anyway? They’ll be too scared ‘a me cutting this pretty neck of yours to do anything stupid.”

A deep voice you’d never heard before emerged, quickly followed by the love of your life. Liu had come for you!

“That’s my pretty neck actually, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll let her go before I really get angry.”

Wait…no.

Green eyes, similar but distinctly different to Liu’s blue glared into the man.

A knife being tossed casually as a children’s toy as he flipped it effortlessly between his fingers when you knew well Liu let you do the cooking because of his phobia and it clicked.

“S-Sully-”

His eyes cut to you, sharp and biting for an instant before the man behind you laughed.

“Oh you know each other, do you? Lovebirds. How sweet.”

Your breath caught as the knife pressed in enough to make a line of blood trickle down the column of your throat. Your tears fell too, unable to keep them at bay as you bit your lip to stifle the sobs. Like Hell were you giving him that much. But still.

“But now ain’t the time to play hero kid. All the lass has to do is cooperate and she’ll be just fine. Once I get my just rewards I’m out of here and you can both be reunited at last.”

Sully appraised the situation, eyes still locked on you a moment more before that piercing gaze moved to your captor. He tilted his head with a strange smile on his lips before he hummed.

“Who’s playing hero? We both want something. I’ll help you get your money, you give me my girl. Seems a simple enough trade to me. How much were you thinking? 100? 1000?”

Sully threw his knife casually to the side as if it was trash and instead easily instead slipped out his wallet, beginning to flip through bills as both you and the captor were bewildered.

“Shit!”

Sully cursed as he dropped the stack of bills, rushing to pick them up, looking nervous and while the expression and clumsiness reminded you of Liu a moment you knew better. Liu scolded you for cursing when it slipped out. Huh. Seems you had a lot to learn about Sully.

He approached once he’d gathered all the bills and though the man tensed a bit his grip was loose. You were tempted to fight but you had a feeling…saw something in Sully’s eyes that told you to wait as he shot you a quick look.

“Is this enough?”

He held out one hand, filled with 100’s, hunched in submission with his head lowered and when the man couldn’t help himself and bent over your shoulder to look closer, slightly removing the knife a few inches from your neck Sully struck.

He lunged, his free hand holding the man’s head down forcibly; using your shoulder as leverage to better press his neck down and then instantaneously letting the money scatter as he reached his hand in his pocket a moment only to ruthlessly shove it straight into the man’s eye. Somehow, he was still alive. Screaming but alive and when Sully reared back his hand to finish the job, the man having dropped the knife in his agony and fallen on his ass, you shook off your shock to rush him and nearly topple him over in a bone crushing hug.

“Oof! What are you-he’ll get away!”

He hissed, trying to tug you off him but you didn’t budge, holding him tighter.

“L-Liu wouldn’t want this. I don’t either. What you did was enough please Sully, you already took his sight- he’s crippled and not going anywhere and I’m safe. Isn’t that enough?”

“No. For me it’s not. He was going to kill you. Ready, willing and able to rob you of your life…why should I not do the same to him?”

Your reply was simple and you pulled back to look into his eyes. They didn’t hold the same softness Liu tended to, instead expectant and frustrated.

“Because that’s too good for him. Think about it. He was going to make Liu be alone the rest of his life. Murder me in front of him. In front of you. Leave you a lifetime of Hell. Let him learn to live with a disability in a prison cell.”

He stared you down a moment and just as nervousness bubbled in your gut he pulled you in for a bruising kiss. You heard the crying behind you peak as one of Sully’s hands left you and jerked in his grip to try and see. He didn’t let you even as he broke the kiss. When you frowned disapprovingly at him he smirked, slow and measured.

“Well now. I think you and I will get along just fine. Don’t look so cross. ”

His smile widened, eyes alight with enough glee to make you shiver. His voice dropped just as it had when he’d first appeared, sounding almost demonic in comparison to Liu’s lilting intonation.

“He dared to not only take what is mine, but also had the gall to steal a sight for my eyes alone. You, vulnerable, with tears in your eyes. It’s only fair he lost his.”

A thought hits you suddenly and you can’t resist asking it.

“…You planned this from the second you came out of those shadows didn’t you?”

Sully smiles mysteriously before he sighs.

“It seems our time is running out. Ah, yes. Liu apologizes in advance for this, by the way.”

And just like that; Sully passed out, all of his weight going on you and nearly sending you tumbling to the ground. Luckily Liu recovered fast and blinked several times as he reoriented, looking around before hugging you tightly.

From there, the man now passed out from the pain was arrested and everyone vouched for Liu along with you, claiming it must’ve been self defense because he was such a gentle, nonviolent and calm guy.

Liu was ecstatic once the hectic night was over and you finally made it home, a little after daybreak.

“I can’t believe it!! Sully loves you!!! I knew he would!”

He peppered kisses all over your face, making you giggle and blush.

“I’m gonna have nightmares for weeks, but I confess I’m so glad I finally got to meet him. He’s so different to you, but he’s also my type. As if one of you wasn’t bad enough for my heart and libido both.”

“What was that?”

You stiffened as you realized the last thing you’d said and swallowed nervously. You hadn’t talked sex things yet but with Sully riling you up earlier it just popped out.

“Forget I said anything it really doesn’t-”

Liu made you turn to face him on the bed and you gasped as you saw one of his eyes was green, and the other blue.

“You really want to go there? You’re positive?”

You nodded shyly at Liu and jumped a little as Sully spoke up after a moment, all casual nonchalance.

“So does this mean we can finally make you come undone with tickling like you so desperately want us too?"

You gaped at him before moving to scramble out of the bed in your haste to get away, a nervous grin on already at the edges of your lips.

"H-How did you-”

Sully barked out a mocking laugh.

“Oh sweetheart you really are too trusting. I’ll have to teach you to delete your search history once you’re done on our laptop. You panicked and had a blush on your cheeks, slammed our laptop closed when we came home from work one day. Liu said to trust you but I confess I was curious and snuck a peek.”

His grin widened and his voice dropped to a husky purr as he stood, cornering you against the wall before cooing into your ear.

“Imagine our surprise when we saw what a naughty little slut you were being~”

“S-Sullly, Liu I-”

At your anxiety, Liu was already smiling and cradling your face, pecking your lips and you sighed, somewhat soothed.

“Don’t be scared baby. We love you, both of us.”

Sully agreed, voice more mature than you’d expect.

“Every part of you; including the cute kinky side.”

“I-It’s not cute…”

You grumbled a little, bright red and the sound of their laughter mixing into one was so beautiful you just had to raise your head to savor it. His expression was even better, and with the green and blue eye he sported, the pure joy on his face, you only blushed darker.

“Sorry love. Anyone who says they’re not cute, is adorable. Them’s the breaks.”

Liu cooed affectionately, hugging you and nuzzling the top of your head.

Sully chimed in after a few moment’s peace.

“So; what’s the deal Liu? Take turns tickling in 5 minutes increments to see who can make her either cry uncle or moan first?”

The smirk he shot your way was wolfish but the way your thighs clenched had Liu smirking too, albeit in a kinder way. He was older than you after all and given he was your first everything, along with Sully, he wanted to treasure every second.

“Deal. If I win I get a whole day with her alone.”

“Ditto for me. Better pray cause your weak ass technique-”

But Liu didn’t need his mouth to tickle and you soon found yourself laughing as he dug right into your hipbones without a trace of the mercy that was so characteristic of him.

You heard Sully scoff before reluctantly giving Liu total control but you didn’t really care who won.

All you knew was that you were incredibly lucky, had two stunning men to keep you safe when you were in danger, and one thing for absolutely certain.

There would be many more laughs in your future.

Dr. Locklear:

You pace nervously, awaiting Locklear and chewing anxiously on your nails.

He was late. Ever since that hang up saying “a situation had arisen” you’d been anxious. You knew you shouldn’t care. You should be glad, especially since you weren’t 100% sure if the victim he chose was really guilty without a doubt but-

You found you trusted him more.

Gods, what had he turned you into? Tears burned your eyes and you sniffled at the thought of losing him, rubbing at your eyes angrily.

Your door opened with a 'BANG!’ and the man of the hour waltzed in, flowers in hand which quickly dropped along with his smile as he saw your state.

“I’m fi-”

Yet he was already pulling down your hands from your face and gently wiping the remaining wetness himself, crystal blue eyes taking you in with worry.

“Who made you cry? It’s been mere hours since we last spoke who could have-”

“No-one that matters. I’m fine.”

You were dismissive as you could manage but he wasn’t having it, seeing through your half truths and bluffs as always and cutting to the heart of the matter.

“So me, then. Explain.”

His eyes and expression were both serious as he guided you to the couch.

You frowned and turned your face away, going silent.

His tone turned playful in response and out of the corner of your eye you saw his own hold a glimmer of playfulness, returning to his old self now that he knew you were unharmed.

“Ah, the silent treatment, hm? How am I ever to cope with such a thing?”

His voice was teasing and you fought a blush back with difficulty as you 'hmph’d’.

He made a show of tapping his sculpted chin before his eyes darted over to yours and you quickly looked away fully, not wanting him to know you’d been peeking.

Of course, that was what he wanted, if his enticing chuckle was anything to go by.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest, between his legs as he nuzzled into your neck.

“C'mon love of mine~ I can’t make it better if you don’t talk and I’d just hate having to make you.”

He sounded so gleeful. Stupid sadist. So much for fighting your blush. You were sure it was crawling to your ears by now-

“Oh? What have we here? Seems the blood has risen to your ears. How adorable. You must be really embarrassed for that to happen~”

His lips against your ear so incessantly had left you squirming a little in his grip as you fought back a smile, swallowing the urge to giggle.

“If you’d like me to stop, all you need do is talk my dear.”

You were tense as a spring, barely holding yourself together as he cooed, blew air and teased your neck and ears.

“Of course…I feel a trade off is in order as well. I made you cry so making you laugh feels like a fair retribution to me. Don’t you think?”

He began squeezing at your sides and exploring your torso and you were gone, trying desperately to curl up and hide your snickers and squeaks as he messed with you.

“You’re such a jehehehehrk! You k-knew what you were-nohohoho!!”

You whined, throwing your head back against his shoulder in mirth as he spidered his fingers ticklishly up your back.

“Of course I did sweetling. Intelligence aside for a moment, I’m a doctor. I touch people’s bodies and elicit all manner of reactions. Do you know how many people I’ve had to restrain so I can work properly due to over ticklishness? Too many. Now then, enough distracting. Unless of course…”

His nimble fingers picked up speed and danced their way into your underarms and ribs until you were kicking helplessly and laughing openly.

“You’d also like to see how mean I can really be.”

“Fuck yhohohohou!!”

He tsked despite the smirk on his face and shrugged nonchalantly.

“What a naughty brat you are. Such vulgarity too. I’ll have to add a punishment to your care plan~ Fine then. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though, sweet. I’ll just have to replace those initial tears of fear with tears of laughter. Tickle tickle tickle~”

76 notes · View notes

astrophileous · 1 year ago

Text

I'm in It for the Money

Part 1 of 4 from The Countdown series.

The above image does not indicate the reader's physical appearance.

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: When Derek is forced to go undercover for a case, he doesn't expect to encounter the past that has haunted him for years.

Word Count: 4400-ish

Warning(s): STRONG NSFW IMPLICATIONS (nothing too graphic but MINORS BE ADVISED), past trauma/abuse, child abuse, undercover life, mention of dead animals, estranged parent-child relationship, discussions about organized crime (including but not limited to narcotics, firearms, human trafficking), mentions/talks of serial killers, cursing and other foul language, smoking (cigarette), implied age gap (undefined) (pls lmk if I miss anything)

Author's Note: another special shout out to @avis-writeshq for beta 🥺💞 I hope you like this one! Pls don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG tyyy ❤️❤️✨️✨️✨️

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The abandoned factory smelled like piss. It was the first thing Derek reckoned the moment they stepped into the darkened lot. Perhaps it was the meager visibility that caused his other senses to heighten. He swore he could almost hear a dying rat fighting for its last breath deep in the imposing darkness, but he might as well have been hearing the rush of his own blood.

Next to him, Agent Temples lit up a cigarette.

"I must say, until last month, I thought I'd seen all kinds of evil there are," Temples said before taking a long swig. "But a syndicate of serial killers?"

"Evils come in different shapes and sizes." Derek jerked his eyes towards the other man for emphasis. "Believe me."

A cloud of smoke appeared in front of Temples' face before it dissolved into the pitch blackness. "You've seen them all, haven't you?"

Derek didn't warrant him an answer. Instead, he steered the conversation towards the case at hand. "Tell me about your UC."

Temples relented. "She's been under for four. Smart, perceptive, vigilant. She was in the bureau for a short while."

This new piece of information tugged at Derek's intrigue.

"Really?"

"Your loss, our gain." Temples shrugged. "You'll know when you see her."

Derek nodded his head silently.

He stared at the tall windows on the distant wall. The foul odor around him had dwindled since his eyes adjusted to the feeble light from the moon. Either that, or Derek was subconsciously building resistance towards it. He couldn't decide which one was worse.

Agent Temples was flicking the butt of his cigarette when the first roar of an engine echoed in the distance. Derek's instinct kicked in, pushing his body to its full stature the second he saw what looked like a motorcycle light penetrating the window. Soon after the sound of the motorcycle reduced to nothing, Derek saw a silhouette slipping past the gap of the dingy entrance to the factory.

Temples called out to its direction, "You're late, Ghost."

The silhouette sauntered closer in the dark—proving claim to its name—before arising in the light like a doomsday's salvation.

"Patience is a virtue, Jimmy," you said in a tantalizing sneer.

Inside his chest, Derek's heart ceased to function.

From where you stood, your eyes had caught sight of him, too. Derek saw the flicker of recognition in them, maybe a little something more as well, but you schooled your expression faster than a blink of an eye.

"There was urgent business to take care of," you added.

Agent Temples hummed in interest. "Possible lead?"

"Debatable." You shoved your hands inside the pockets of your jacket. A casual gesture to the untrained eye, but the profiler in Derek knew it was an attempt to hide. From him, maybe. "I need more time to confirm."

"You do that. Meanwhile, there's someone you should meet. Agent Morgan, this is Ghost, our UC."

Temples proceeded to say your real name to Derek. As if he didn't already know it. As if the name hadn't haunted him every day and night for nearly the past five years.

"And Ghost, this is—"

"SSA Derek Morgan." For the first time since you walked in, your attention finally meandered his way. Derek burned under your blatant perusal. "Behavioral Analysis Unit. FBI."

Temples' surprise was glaring. "You know each other?"

"We did," Derek spat.

You appeared bemused at Derek's callous display. He, on the other hand, didn't find the whole thing amusing at all.

"We do," you eventually said.

Temples didn't seem to notice the existing tension in the air. If he did, he chose to say nothing. "This is great news! You guys know each other, so you can get everything settled yourselves." By a miraculous coincidence, Temples' phone started to ring. "Now, excuse me for a moment."

You waited until Temples was out of earshot before addressing Derek, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Yeah. I wish I could say the same."

You smiled somewhat sadly at the taste of venom in Derek's voice. The damp and moldy air in the forgotten factory stood no chance against the sting of Derek's cold glare. It was easy for your body to ignore the chill, pretending that Derek's indifference didn't bite through your skin. Your heart, though, was a different story.

"I didn't know it was gonna be you," was what you ended up saying after a full minute of silence. "When Jimmy told me that someone would be coming in, he didn't tell me anything else. I wasn't expecting you."

It was the most sincere string of words you had uttered since showing up in front of him. For a moment, something twitched in his chest, and Derek loathed the fact that you still had that effect on him even after years had passed. But as frustrating as it was, Derek didn't think petty would suit him well as a middle name, so he swallowed the bitter lump and forced his shoulders to relax.

"So, this is where you've been all this time? Living as a ghost?"

Derek's passing jab at your nickname didn't go unnoticed even if you chose to pay no heed to it. "I met Jimmy on a case, back when I was still with the bureau. He offered me the job."

"Is that why you ran?" Derek pretended not to see you flinch. "Or did you go to ATF because you ran?"

"You know I've always wanted to go under."

"As if you couldn't do that in the bureau."

"In the bureau? Yeah, maybe. But do you really think I could've done it back when I still had my old life?"

Derek bit his tongue. There was no mistaking what you meant by that.

Do you really think I could've done it back when I was still with you?

Something was boiling in the pit of Derek's stomach. He recognized it from those few months following your sudden departure from his life. Before tonight, Derek thought the wound you administered had scabbed over with time. But one encounter with you, and now those scars were opening up and bleeding again, all over the place.

"You used to say people who run are cowards."

Your head whipped towards him. In the darkness, Derek could still see the brush of disbelief across your face. He wondered, then, what had you looking so taken off guard. Was it the fact that Derek still remembered something you had said to him many moons ago?

In the end, your response was to avert your gaze from his face.

"Well," you began, "maybe I am one."

Thunders were feuding inside your chest. They squeezed around your heart like a garrote, making you gasp for air until you forgot how to breathe properly without doing so.

A few seconds later, you finally completed the fifth and final round of your torture.

"Time!" Derek called out as soon as you passed the finish line. "Four seconds faster than your last. Not bad."

Your heart was still galloping at a thousand miles per minute. The voice that rose when you spoke up resembled a choking fish out of water more than anything else.

"Not bad, but not good?"

"I think you can do better."

A sarcastic chuckle rumbled from your chest. "Any faster than that, Derek, and I might die."

"Don't deny your potential before it becomes real. You're so much more capable than you allow yourself to believe." Derek grabbed a bottle of water that he had prepared for you. "Here."

You accepted it with a quick thanks. "I've always hated running. It's something that cowards do."

"That's an extreme notion to have."

"Well, my family had a tendency to do it, and all of them are cowards," you said nonchalantly, a stark contrast to the weight carried by your choice of words. "My mom ran every time my dad beat my brother and I to the brink of death, and Dad ran when the police finally got on his ass about it."

Derek visibly softened after hearing your rancorous confession. "Your mother's still calling?"

The bitter scowl on your face was enough confirmation for him.

The first phone call arrived around four months ago. You had dropped the call as soon as you realized who was on the other end of the line, after which your mother resorted to leaving you an abundance of voice messages instead. All of them were deleted without a listen, and you found yourself blocking every incoming call from an unknown number just for the tiniest bit of chance that it might be from her.

Exactly a month ago, your mother suddenly showed up on your doorstep.

It was already alarming when you realized that she had somehow gotten a hold of your contact information. To then find her in front of your home was worse. You nearly didn't recognize her when you first opened the door; not with her thinner cheeks and sunken eyes. She looked nothing like the woman you remembered from the routine nightmares, but the shadow of terror in her eyes was one you knew quite well.

"It's good to see you," she had said after begging you not to slam the door in her face. "You look great. Healthy."

"Considering the last time you saw me, I was drenched in my own blood, I'd say that's an understatement."

She physically winced at your reply. "I paid your brother a visit before coming down here. Can we go inside?"

"No." You closed the door behind your back, pressing yourself like a royal guard against it. "Whatever you want to say, we can discuss it here."

The woman whom you once called mother darted her eyes everywhere. At last, she settled on pinning her gaze towards a point right beside your ear. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

You scoffed. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"What? No—"

"Do you need money? Is that it?"

A look of offense scampered by your mother's face. "Is a mother not allowed to ever see her child?"

"If I had a mother, then sure, she could see me. You're just a woman who stood by for years while I was bruised and battered every single day of my childhood." Tears had started to stream down her face, but it did nothing for you. It wasn't like she was ever affected by your desperate wails and cries when you were little, anyway. "I never hope to see you here again. If you keep coming, I'll be contacting the police."

You had slammed the door on her face after that, and thankfully, her phone calls and messages promptly stopped, too.

Until last week.

"She's sending text messages this time," you eventually said.

Upon hearing your answer, Derek gestured towards the bleachers behind him. You sighed loudly, albeit still obliging his silent request as you took a seat on the second lowest bench. Almost the entire track field was in your line of sight from where you sat. In the distance, you could see young cadets from the Academy training together. The scene brought a smile to your face. It reminded you of memories from a lifetime ago.

When Derek sat down, he didn't leave any gap between the two of you, pressing your sweaty thigh with his toned one.

"What are you planning to do?" Derek asked.

You opted to chug the rest of your water instead of replying.

"You threatened to report her to the police last time. You can choose to make true of that promise. Maybe it'll force her to stop for good."

"Or?"

"Or—" Derek glanced at you, his eyes sincere and not at all captious as he spoke, "—you can choose to try hearing her out."

Your face contorted into a grimace. "Are those two my only options?"

"Your third option is to do nothing and let her keep stalking you. Possibly until the aliens decide to invade the earth, sending humanity into extinction."

"Hm." You dropped your forehead on Derek's shoulder. "That sounds tempting."

You shut your eyes against the soft material of Derek's T-shirt. The smell of his detergent mixed with Derek's natural musk served as an anchor for the adrift ship of which you were the captain. Derek's presence was always a reprieve in your otherwise bleak life. Derek was comfortable. He was your safe haven.

"I know I have no right to speak about this, but I think it needs to be said," the man added.

You lifted your head to stare into Derek's eyes, the same ones who had crowned you as their sole center at that moment. His hand was warm as it crept towards the nape of your neck.

"Take it from someone who lost one of his parents at a very young age. You will end up regretting the things you didn't do a tenfold more than the things you did do." Derek's thumb swept over your eyebrows, smoothing out the creases until you were pliant underneath his touch. "I'm in no way saying that my situation is comparable to yours. I will never understand what you went through with your family. All I know is, I don't want you to wake up one day with any remorse about the past."

Derek's advice was sealed with three gentle kisses: one to your forehead, one to the tip of your nose, and one to your lips. You left one of your own on his jawline for good measure before burrowing yourself further into his side.

"I hate it when you're right," you grumbled.

"That kinda sucks, considering that I'm right all the time."

"Yeah, you are." You hid your smile on his shoulder. "Which is why I really hate you."

Less than two minutes later, Agent Temples re-emerged from the dark.

"Sorry about that, folks. What'd I miss? Have you two walked through everything?"

"Actually," you began, "we haven't even started yet."

"We got caught up... reminiscing about the past," Derek fabricated smoothly.

Temples didn't seem to detect the lie as he said, "Alright. We can go through it now. Ghost, you wanna start us off?"

You spontaneously stretched to your full height underneath the newfound attention. "I've been planting the seeds for months now. Hopefully, no one gets suspicious whenever Morgan decides to come in."

"What's the story?" Derek asked.

"You're a friend of my brother's. I've known you my whole life," you replied. "I orchestrated a malfunction in one of the orders a few months ago. We've been looking for an explosives expert ever since. That's you."

"And you're sure it's solid?"

"It's a perfect cover considering your time in the bomb squad. Just in case, though, Jimmy will handle your background." Your eyes flitted towards Temples, who nodded in confirmation of your statement. "By the time it's done, you can say goodbye to SSA Derek Morgan from the FBI. It'll look legit."

"Don't worry." Temples patted Derek's shoulder. "You're in the right hands."

"What about you?" Derek asked again.

You tilted your head curiously. "What about me?"

"What's the story you told them? Nothing good about a solid cover if yours isn't just as sturdy."

You squinted your eyes at Derek's strange question. It sounded, somehow, like he was questioning your work for the last four years, as though he only came up with it as an absurd act of retribution for something that could now be declared as history.

Or, perhaps, you were the one being paranoid because of your past mistake.

After all, you still didn't know how to move on from the guilt even to this day.

Before you could come up with an apt answer, Temples suddenly beat you to it, "You don't need to worry about that. Nobody dares to question Ghost. The Big Boss is sweet on her."

"Jimmy."

"The Big Boss?" Derek's glare pierced right through you. "You mean Kreczmar?"

"What can I say? Ghost is an expert when it comes to fraternizing with the enemy."

Temples could be a sleazy bastard sometimes, and right now, you wished you could punch that toothy grin straight off his face.

"Aleksander Kreczmar is an assignment. A means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less."

You didn't understand why your eyes blithered towards Derek as you made that proclamation. The way he was studying you, though, made you feel like a cell under a microscope. A small part of your brain had fleetingly assumed that it might be jealousy, but you pushed the hope away before it could sediment further into a foolish delusion.

"This changes things," Derek said out of the blue. "The fact that you're in a relationship with him—"

"I'm not in a rela—"

"—would never make him approve of me. He's a man with an ego. He's not gonna like his woman bringing in some guy she knew from the past."

The objection died in your throat.

Derek was making a lot of sense.

"You're the profiler," you shot a little too sourly. "What do you suggest, then?"

"Simple." Derek smirked, a picture of smugness and spite as he looked at you. "I'll tell him I'm in it for the money."

Derek pulled out with a hiss, immediately missing the warmth he had been enfolded in just a few seconds prior. He peeled off the condom before tying it securely, throwing it straight into the garbage can in the corner.

"Why did you decide to join the FBI?"

Your question brought out a laughter deep from Derek's chest. His eyes took in the view of your exposed upper body, mirroring his own state of undress, while your body's other half was covered haphazardly by the flimsy material of Derek's sheets.

If he didn't know any better, Derek would be wondering how you still managed to stay lucid even after the hours the two of you spent on his bed, and a few more hours around various corners of his home. But Derek could read you better than most people by now, and he could distinguish the sign of post-coital bliss glistening over your irises. Underneath the gentle glow of his bedside table lamp, you were a sight for sore eyes.

"Why do you ask the most random questions after sex?"

"Because people are usually more honest after sex."

"And you know this, how?"

"I read it." You slithered into a new position as you responded, flumping on your stomach with your chin pressing on Derek's abs. He looked down at you in wonder. "Your brain gets drowned in oxytocin every time you cum. The love hormone, people call it. Oxytocin promotes the feeling of trust, hence the truth bomb."

"Hm. You sounded like Reid just now."

"Why do you know what Spencer sounds like after sex?"

Derek grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing until you squealed at him for mercy.

"I think I was always destined to follow in my father's footsteps," Derek replied at last. "I picked law in college 'cause it made sense. Joined Chicago PD 'cause I felt like it was up to me to continue the job my father couldn't finish."

"And the FBI?"

"It was my first experience of staring evil right in the eye," Derek said. "The first time I truly felt scared on the job was back in the bomb squad. I got tired of having my life taunted by a bunch of scrap metals. Joining the bureau gave me the chance to stare directly at the people responsible for these crimes."

"You want to challenge them to their faces," you concluded.

"Exactly. I wanted to put a face on the crimes. When I realized that these people were just a bunch of fucked-up morons and sick-minded souls, going up against them wasn't as frightening anymore."

Derek's gaze roved over the entire ceiling as he spoke. His fingers on your shoulder drew abstract patterns that triggered an expanse of goosebumps on your skin. The alarm clock on the bedside table mocked you from the corner of your eye. Its little hands were swords, threatening you with the knowledge that you had to be up and out of Derek's place in just five short hours.

Your stomach churned at the thought.

"What about you? Why did you join the FBI?"

The question arrived as a welcomed distraction. It provided you with an excuse to push the thought of your inevitable flight to the back of your head.

"Do you want the honest answer or the default answer?"

Derek looked down at you in amusement. "There are two different answers?"

"Yes. Now pick one."

"The honest one."

"Is it cliché if I say it's because of my parents?"

Derek knew your question was more rhetoric than inquisitive, so he settled with squeezing your hip instead of a literal response.

"The worst thing about that part of my life isn't the memories, nor the nightmares. It's not even about the scars. It's the fear." A shiver ran down your entire body. For a second, Derek thought he had set the AC temperature too cold until he realized he hadn't even turned it on yet. "I knew if they placed me in front of my father again, I would crumble like nothing. I didn't want that. Couldn't accept that. So, I trained myself to stop being afraid in the face of atrocities."

As you finished your explanation, Derek couldn't help but think about how similar the two of you were in a lot of ways. His mind went back to a memory from years ago, back when you were still in the Academy, and back to the first time the both of you had ever met.

"What's your greatest fear?" Derek had asked that question in front of the room full of trainees back then.

Shouts of dying, height, and even my mom filled the air. Derek remembered scanning the crowd of faces in the midst of all of those answers before his eyes had fatedly landed on you.

"You." Your surprise was conspicuous as Derek's finger aimed towards you. "What's your greatest fear?"

"Fear."

"Yeah, what is it?"

"No, I meant that's my answer. Fear. Being afraid. That's what I fear the most."

You might not have been the first person he noticed in that gym full of people, but you were definitely the one who managed to stay on his mind.

After all, he had given the same answer when his trainer asked him the same question back during his time at the Academy.

"That was the honest answer," Derek noted after a lengthy silence had passed. "What's the default one?"

"It's the one I tell people," you responded with a brilliant smile thrown his way. Derek tried not to read too much over the implications that you had excluded him from the word people.

"Which is?"

"That I'm in it for the money."

"Hey." Temples' voice echoed inside the vast space of the factory. "I heard that one before. Didn't you use to say it all the time, Ghost? I didn't think much when you folks said you knew each other, but looks like you know one another quite well."

"I hardly think it's an appropriate time to discuss this, Jimmy."

"Right. My apologies. You have anything else, Ghost?"

Temples' question was a relief for your anxious bones. It gave you the chance to maneuver the conversation towards a more purposeful direction.

"Do you have a working profile for your UnSub?"

Derek studied you for a moment before replying, "We don't have much to work with. All we know is they operate on a network that spans throughout the entire country. It's run by a much smaller group. No greater than ten, most likely fewer than five. We flagged some human trafficking activities we thought could be related to them."

"They contacted me when they found out we have an active op on Kreczmar," Temples explained.

"You do know that we haven't uncovered any conclusive evidence for the trafficking allegations, right?"

During the four years you spent infiltrating Aleksander Kreczmar's empire, you had crawled, climbed, and sprinted your way up to the top. It was arduous work, one that required you to sacrifice a lot of things. Your life was one of them. Your dignity was often another.

For four years, you and your team had succeeded in stopping dozens of narcotics deliveries, along with detaining numerous firearms and explosives before they could fall into the wrong hands. You oversaw most of the trades that went through the eastern coast of Kreczmar's territory, but so far, you had never positively identified a single human trafficking activity connected to Kreczmar's ring.

You knew better than to perceive the lack of evidence as proof of innocence, though. That word didn't fit in any dictionary of a man such as Kreczmar.

"The profile fits," Derek declared. "Kreczmar's routes coincide with the syndicate's hot zones."

"That's a lot of areas to cover, Derek."

"Which is why we start here, at the heart of his operation. Which is why we need you."

That one sentence didn't have any business messing with every neuron in your brain, and you hated the fact that it did. Derek was the only person in the world who possessed that kind of power over you, and you couldn't help wondering if he did it on purpose just for the satisfaction of seeing you wither.

"You're putting a lot of faith in me, Derek."

"I've always had that for you."

The surrounding air seared where it touched your skin. Your tongue stiffened like metal inside your mouth, and beside you, Temples looked as if he was just now noticing the electric field buzzing between you and Derek.

"I need to get going," you rushed out. "People are expecting me."

"Oh? Of course. Thanks for making the time, Ghost," Temples said before bidding you goodbye.

You could barely look Derek in the eye as you offered a lame wave. Your shoes composed a scratchy melody against the ground. As you reached the exit, your eyes caught Derek's from the distance, and suddenly, you were hauled back towards the night that had gnawed at your memories for the past five years.

And just like that night, this time, you were running away from him once again.

Taglist is open. Leave a comment or send me an ask to be added!

Taglist: @citrusiove @kneelforloki @prentissim @bunbunbl0gs @lubunnii @alluring-andrayav @sammyrenae68

140 notes · View notes

papermatisse · 1 year ago

Text

Whispers in the Dark || K.SW

† genre: horror

† word count: 6.2k

† warnings: possession, graphic exorcism scene, violence, idk

† synopsis: it started out small with whispers and body aches and things moving around. now he's a different person entirely—or perhaps not even a person.

† (a/n): it's a little very corny lol it's like every possession movie I've watched compiled into one fic of cliches. but yeah fun times 👍

† taglist: @scuzmunkie @hipsdofangirl @hydroyaksha

anthology | main masterlist

It started out small with barely anything seemingly off or askew. Though then again, the two lovers were up in the clouds and blinded with joy over their new house, so maybe it was just them ignoring the blatantly obvious. But after a few days of settling in, things started to become weird.

There was always this feeling of being watched. Even as Sunwoo would leave for work in the mornings, (y/n) would still feel the eerie presence of someone lingering nearby, eyes trained on her at all times. Particular spots of the house felt most uncomfortable, and so she'd make it a point to avoid them at all costs. Sunwoo never commented on it either way, and so she chose to keep the anomaly to herself. Preserve the ever so fragile peace which remained in this place.

But then it began to manifest itself. She'd catch glimpses of someone—or something—in the corner of her eye, but when she'd turn, it'd be gone. It was always the same image as well. Of a dark, shadowed silhouette of a person. Brooding in the recesses of her house and her mind. The one who continuously watched her every move. Perhaps she was tired and seeing things, or perhaps she had grown more suspicious of the once happy abode the longer she stayed in it.

But those glimpses soon grew more obvious. More intense.

Looking up to see not only her reflection, but something else behind her. Waking up in the night to see a spot of the room darker than the rest. Walking up the driveway and seeing it staring out the window at her.

At this point, she had to voice her concerns to her boyfriend. It was beginning to eat away at her psyche, her body on constant alert and growing weaker with the incessant paranoia. Knowing that they weren't the only ones in their new home.

But Sunwoo was dismissive at best. Not only did he not believe her, but he also questioned her sanity, asked if she was truly okay or not. The way he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead as if ascertaining whether she truly was healthy or not was the breaking point for her, slapping away his hand with an unexpected yet not surprising harshness.

The next few days were rough, walking on eggshells around the other to prevent another fallout in what was supposed to be a happy time of their relationship. The occurrences continued to grow both in frequency and intensity, and (y/n) was merely forced to take it with a grain of salt. Sunwoo was unbothered by it all, his only turmoil seemingly being the strained relations he held with his significant other.

(y/n) took every opportunity she could to stay out of the house. If a friend needed help moving something, an invite to a company dinner was sent to her, a sale at her favorite store—she'd certainly be present there than at the inescapable and suffocating fortress of that house. Anything she could use to delay her inevitable return was taken advantage of.

Sure, it was petty. Sure, she should've pressed more in the communication department. Sure, she was perhaps adding fuel to the flames. But she couldn't find it in her to be any sort of accommodating. Not in that place. Not when this overwhelming and crushing weight seemed to fall upon her whenever she passed the threshold. The debilitating sense of dread seeping into her very being with every moment spent within those four walls. That constant, pervasive feeling of eyes lingering upon her no matter which way she turns.

Yes, she could've talked to Sunwoo more, but it was entirely incomprehensible to her how the man didn't seem to feel anything similar to her. In the sparing hours they spend together after work, he seems none the wiser. Nonchalant as he ambles about the place, this disconcerting rhythm in his mannerisms as if he's well acquainted, comfortable even, with the place already. Like he doesn't feel the heaviness that just hung in the air at all times or the sensation of being watched every moment you're conscious. He just seemed to be existing.

(y/n) could see their relationship growing more and more strained. Morning chitter chatter seemed to dwindle into mere formalities, saying what must be said before departing for work. Movie nights and shared dinners waned into her coming home as late as possible, and Sunwoo well asleep in their bed. They texted when they could, updating one another on their whereabouts and such, though that was about it.

Already, in a mere few weeks, the house had torn apart the seemingly sturdy foundation they once had established as a couple. Though her relationship began to be the last of her concerns.

Sunwoo grew more reclusive. On the days she'd find herself showing up home at an appropriate hour, she'd find him sitting in the living room. Alone, in pitch black, with no TV on whatsoever. It startled her every time, but upon seeing her, he'd stand and greet her as he usually does, though now in a more… empty, rehearsed way. They hadn't really been talking much, so it seemed reasonable for him to be awkward at this point.

They'd eat together, though Sunwoo began to eat less and less, the leftovers he'd leave on his plate growing by the day. In the mornings, he'd take a sip of his coffee before leaving for the day, abandoning his thermos upon the kitchen table. It concerned her, and when he was asleep one night, she found herself raising his shirt, seeing how his body was beginning to wither away. His skin grew pale, his torso defined with lack of fat, his face becoming gaunt. She felt her heart clench upon itself at the sight of her beloved Sunwoo suffering so, and in the back of her mind, she found herself blaming the household.

As much as she loathed it, as much as her body writhed upon itself at the mere prospect of it, (y/n) began spending more time at home. Feeding Sunwoo as much as she could, doting upon him with every fiber of her being, rambling on about whatever seemed to pass her thoughts. The warmth of his smile felt like a remedy to her tortured soul, a reminder of the good that lay within this cursed house. The way his laugh filled the empty space brought a sense of life that was once devoid in their living space. Sunwoo alone had the ability to make this house feel like home, and she remembered why she loved him so much.

After a few days of this new schedule, she was suddenly awoken in the middle of the night by an abrupt jostle in bed. Blearily, she squinted through the fluorescent lights pooling into the dark bedroom. Her mind was fogged by the haze of sleep, though she began to come to—began to process her surroundings. The source of the light deriving from the bathroom, the lack of Sunwoo beside her, and the terrible retching sound now filling the atmosphere.

(y/n) had rushed over as soon as she processed the situation, crouched beside Sunwoo with her hand along his back as he emptied the contents of his stomach. His body trembled beneath her touch, a sheen of sweat caking his skin. And as if to make matters worse, between the upheavals of his body, he managed to make out one word.

"Hospital."

A few traffic laws were broken in her haste to get to the hospital, but eventually she made it, dragging Sunwoo as much as she was able to into the emergency center. Though not even an hour later, they were being sent off.

"His vitals are fine. Perhaps a bit malnourished at the moment from his nausea, but he seems to be fine." The doctor explained, flipping through a stack of papers with a dismissive shrug. "Could be just a bad case of food poisoning, son. Just make sure to take it easy for the next few days. Try to avoid greasy and spicy foods. Drink lots of fluids. Make sure he's eating, though."

The drive home was silent. In regards to Sunwoo's case, (y/n) couldn't tell what he was thinking. He just sat there, staring ahead with this blank expression. In her stance, she was beyond worried for Sunwoo. She didn't understand what was going on. She didn't understand what was happening to her boyfriend at all.

The sight of the house made her stomach churn, grimacing as she reluctantly pulled into the driveway. It was silent between them, though only for a moment before Sunwoo was turning to open the door.

"S-Sunwoo!" (y/n) called out, arm shooting forth to grasp at the sleeve of his shirt. He froze, back facing her as his hand remained on the handle of his door. "Sunwoo, why don't we go someplace else? We can go to a hotel, call out to work in the morning, spend the day relaxing together. How does that sound?"

It was another bout of pure silence, Sunwoo as stiff as a board as (y/n) desperately clung to him. Eventually, he finally turned to face her, and she felt hope at first. Hope that he would listen to her. Hope that she'd be able to get to him for once. Hope that he'd be able to put an end to whatever was happening.

Then she got a look at his eyes.

Soulless, apathetic vats of darkness, glaring at her with such unbridled disdain that she found herself recoiling from him, hand retracting almost instantaneously as he cornered her with those heinous eyes of his. And for a moment, she didn't recognize what was in front of her. She didn't see Sunwoo at all. It was like an entirely different person in front of her.

But then he seemed to snap to, blinking away that momentarily evil farce for a neutral, tired look. Like a poor kicked puppy, Sunwoo came back to her, brows furrowed as he shook his head.

"Sorry, baby, I'm tired. I just want to go to bed for now. Maybe some other time." And then he slipped out of the vehicle. When the door closed behind him, she released the breath of air she'd been holding, pressing a palm to her racing heartbeat as her eyes trailed after Sunwoo sluggishly dragging himself back into their house.

What was that just now? What just happened? Sunwoo had never looked like that before. Sunwoo had never felt like that. It was strange, ominous even. As if some form of an anomaly that wasn't meant to be. As if something beyond her preconceived notion of reality. As if an invitation to begin questioning her world more than she already had been. Yet at a moment's notice, he had reverted right back, as if the turmoil he'd implemented into her mindset was for nothing.

Warily, she watched Sunwoo drag himself into the house, taking this moment to herself to recuperate from the whirlwind of a scene that had just transpired seconds before. He pushed open the door, stepping into the house in his weakened state, body slumping upon itself tiredly. And through the bleary image of her tear ridden eyes, she could see the vague, obscured shadow of a hand sliding upon Sunwoo's shoulder as he sunk into the inky blackness of the house's interior.

That night seemed to be the mere precipice of the hell which would ensue shortly after their return. Sunwoo had gone back to how he had been before. Only eating a quarter of his plate before pushing it aside. He all but rejected every offer of food she presented him, even scowling at her when she tried hand feeding him. He grew thinner by the day, skin practically graying before her, like the rich saturation of his once tanned skin was all but dissipating into thin air. His eyes were sunken with defined bags weighing down beneath them. His lips were down turned most of the time—perhaps all the time. And the few moments of sleep he did manage to receive were disrupted by late night attacks.

Nightmares that left his body shaking, drenched in a cold sweat as he heaved for air. (y/n) would be there to comfort him, stroking back his hair and bringing him back to reality, only for him to pass out once again with no recollection of the night before. At times, she'd catch him staring off places. Sat up in the bed and staring at the corner of the room, leant against the couch and staring at a blank TV screen, standing in the bathroom and staring at his own reflection. She'd snap him out and he'd be off doing whatever he does, again with no acknowledgement of his prior behavior.

At this point, and with no other reasonable explanation for such behavior, (y/n) had taken it upon herself to begin searching for new apartments. They'd be tight on money, but it didn't matter. She'd give every earthly possession of hers to ensure Sunwoo was safe and secure. This house did not provide that certainty.

She spent her free day scrolling through housing selections online, marking whatever caught her eye before proceeding on to the next. Curled into the couch and bundled in a blanket, headphones in and playing one of her playlists. Completely oblivious to the world around her, including that of the presence of the boy now standing behind her.

"(y/n)."

The voice that suddenly spoke made her heart plummet to her stomach. A deep, resounding voice that penetrated through the music playing in her ear. A voice she never once heard a day in her life, now reverberating in her skull like an incessant drum with its residual echo haunting her.

Springing to her feet, she whirled around, breathless as if every ounce of air had been expelled from her lungs from the sheer terror of it all. Though upon turning to the source, a conflicted sigh of both relief and confusion seemed to subtly quell her alight nerves.

"Sunwoo," she huffed out, pressing a shaky hand onto her rapidly beating heart. Nervously, she laughed, trying to make sense of whatever just happened—sort reality from imagination. "You scared the shit out of me."

"What are you doing?" He asked, completely ignoring the state she found herself in. His eyes were zeroed in on the phone in her hands, its screen still displaying local listings for apartments.

"Nothing…"

His eyes lazily rolled up to meet hers, glaring at her through the dark circles that enshrouded his gaze. There was an irritated scowl across his face as his head crooked to the side.

"We both know you're lying." Slowly, he began to round the couch, and as he drew closer, (y/n) took tentative steps back, clutching the device to her chest as she remained focused on the man nearing. An intimidating tension settled in the air, the adrenaline from before kicking back up as she trembled under his stare. Like a scene of a predator approaching its prey, she found herself utterly cornered as he continued to loom closer until he finally stood right in front of her, caging her against the wall with his presence. "Your God doesn't like liars, now does he?"

Her tongue had gone numb, mouth dropped open as if wanting to speak, but her voice had left her. A chill ran down her spine as she stared into the eyes of the man before her. Someone she didn't even recognize anymore at this point.

In less than a second, she felt her phone snatched from her hands, yet before she could give any sort of reaction to the matter, Sunwoo threw the phone across the room. Helplessly, she watched as the device crashed into the wall with an agonizing crack as both the wall and the device seemed to crumble in unison onto the floor.

"Sunwoo…" Her voice was weak, coming out as a strangled whisper, looking desperately between what just occurred and to her boyfriend who merely stood there staring at the spot with an unreadable expression. Before anything else could be said, Sunwoo tore his gaze from the scene.

"I'm sorry." That was all he mumbled before he ran off to their bedroom, head downcast and steps brisk, leaving (y/n) there in a stupor reflecting on what just happened

"Thank you for coming," (y/n) greeted the elderly woman as she hobbled into the home peacefully, a light grin and a curious eye taking in the place.

"Of course, dear. I don't get many house calls these days," She laughed casually. Her eye caught the hole in the wall, glaringly obvious amongst the otherwise spotless white of the rest of the room. "So I've read your recap in the email you sent. Would you like to add anything else?"

"I'm not sure." (y/n) nervously fiddled with her fingers, nails scraping down her cuticle beds as she recounted the past few weeks. "Things have just been different since we bought the place. I thought I'd just be scared of the house itself, but now…" She bit her lip, refusing to meet the perceptive gaze of the old woman, as if bearing her soul before a stranger. Except this stranger seemed rather receptive to it.

"That's why I'm here to help in any way I can."

The reassurance was enough for (y/n), looking up to the lady with astonished relief and a settled heart. She trailed behind her as the woman waved about burning incense, muttered things in a foreign language, and looked around the house for any anomalies.

At some point, she unveiled a series of objects for (y/n) from her bag of items. Bundles of twigs and ferns tied with a piece of twine. The only indication of it being anything unique was the attached sigil on the string. These were placed above doorways and beneath objects.

"Keep these candles alight." She handed (y/n) a batch of long white candles. Her frail hands wrapped around (y/n)'s arm as soon as the transfer was complete. "It'll ward off any negative spirits that may be lingering. It'll keep you safe."

"Thank you… I appreciate your help."

"Of course. Call me if things go wrong. Keep me posted."

With that, the woman was gone, and (y/n) was once more alone in the house. She spent this limited time setting up the candles, placing them around the living room where Sunwoo would be sat eventually. Her nerves ate away at her, hoping with all her might that this would be the end of this harrowing chapter of their lives. That the candles really would displace anything that's attached itself to their house or themselves. That the normalcy of their mundane lives would return as if nothing ever happened.

The sound of Sunwoo's car pulling up startled (y/n) into action, standing from where she was seated and expectantly staring at the doorway. With every sound outside, (y/n) grew more and more anxious. She recognized the sound of his car turning off, the sound of his door closing behind him, and that of his footsteps growing nearer and nearer. She felt her breath caught at her throat as he unlocked the door, and her head seemed to spin momentarily as he finally entered.

The first thing he took in was the candles, and then his gaze drifted down the hall to their bedroom, and finally he rested his attention onto (y/n). Her stomach twisted at the apathetic stare her way. The way his lids sunk with weariness, as if fed up by it all. Memories of their last altercation briefly flitted across her mind, and she found herself rooted where she stood, as if by standing completely still, he would ignore her entirely.

It seemed to work, as he dropped his stuff on the floor and stormed off into the house, leaving her standing there in a fearful awe, wondering what he'd do next. As if trapped in an enclosure with a wild animal, expecting the unexpected at all times. When he reemerged moments later, there was something clenched in his hands. (y/n) hadn't the time to analyze before Sunwoo ducked under the couch and snatched up another one. Another charm placed by the woman.

The branches snapped in his grip, shards of wood trickling behind him as he went about and removed each and every one of them, as if knowing exactly where to look. Upon seizing the final one placed above the kitchen's entryway, he turned around and left the house, door kept wide open so (y/n) could watch in horror as he threw it all away in the bin outside, completely and entirely unaffected by them.

Once more, she was rooted to her spot, but rather than as a defensive mechanism, it was out of pure terror. Sunwoo's eyes were trained on her as he made his journey back into the house, figure growing more and more imposing as he drew nearer. The door slammed behind him in a violent manner, causing (y/n) to flinch at its ferocity.

When he finally stood in front of her, reminiscent of just a few days prior, his eyes momentarily glanced at the series of candles illuminating the living room.

"I suggest you clean up, (y/n)," He spoke, venom laced in his words as he turned back to face her. "I don't like strangers coming into our house. So remember that next time."

With that, he left once more. She trembled in the wake of his absence, breaths shaky as she attempted to gather herself together and get into action removing the candles, lest he return with a vengeance. She had briefly headed over to their bedroom in hopes of reaching out to him, though stopped short upon stumbling on the state of their doorknob, now indented by the placement of his fingers.

It was perhaps the most startling revelation of this entire ordeal thus far. The one that wrapped up the evidence collected and gave her the conclusion she did not want to accept. Because how else could a man as frail and weak as Sunwoo looks now be able to put such pressure on a doorknob like this?

That day, she slept on the couch, facing the hallway and making sure Sunwoo never stepped out when she least expected it.

The next morning, (y/n) prepared breakfast. Sunwoo sat at the table behind her and she felt the presence of his stare upon her back, monitoring every minute movement she made. Her new phone lay beside the stove where she frequented it with nervous glances, praying for time to move so Sunwoo would go to work. Though upon her umpteenth glance, she suddenly began to receive a call.

An Unknown Number. On any other occasion, she'd have most likely ignored it. Though with the stifling atmosphere and the discomfort of Sunwoo's insistent surveillance, she found herself almost immediately answering the call.

"Hello?" She spoke, voice as leveled and steady as she could muster. Anything to draw suspicion away from the maddeningly paranoid man seated only a few feet away.

"Hello! This is (y/n), correct?"

(y/n)'s eyes bugged out of her skull from the sheer shock of hearing the woman's voice again, heart rate accelerating as she dared a momentary glance to Sunwoo. He was occupied reading something on his phone, not even noticing (y/n)'s subtlety. Turning back forward, she continued with cooking, clearing her throat again.

"Yes." It was all she could think to say. Anything else could potentially tip off Sunwoo—something she wanted to avoid at all costs.

"Is he in the room?"

Another pause on her part before she answered the same way.

"Yes."

"I take it… the measures didn't work? He's still… the same?"

"Yes."

She heard the woman sigh, muttering something and shifting in the other line.

"Stay put. We'll have to go to our second initiative. I'll come retrieve you later at the same time as yesterday. Is that okay?"

(y/n) took a moment to process the information. Retrieve her? Meaning she'd be… taken away from here. Away from this house of terrors. Away from the anxiety that's plagued her soul for so long now. Away from all the darkness that lurks within every corner and carries with in nothing but bad omens.

Away from Sunwoo.

"(y/n)?"

"I'm sorry?" Another pause as she dragged herself back to reality. "I mean… Yes."

"For now, lay low. I'll come with help."

"Okay."

The line went dead, two muted beeps being the last thing she hears before she placed the phone on the counter once more. She didn't know what this entailed. She didn't know what the second plan was. She didn't even know there would be a second plan. And the prospect of there being help needed in this endeavor only served to further propel (y/n) into an internally frenzied state.

Absentmindedly, she scooped her breakfast onto a plate, mind still wandering aimlessly as she turned away from the stove.

A gasp fell past her lips as she came face to face with Sunwoo, his close proximity startling her enough to drop the plate once held in her hands. It shattered as it collided with the floor, ceramic shards skidding across the linoleum and littering the kitchen like a field of landmines. Yet Sunwoo seemed unaffected, far too invested in boring holes directly into (y/n)'s soul.

His eyes were wide, almost in a maddeningly intrigued state, unblinking like a statue. At such a slim distance away from each other, perhaps the closest they've been to one another in weeks, she could see the decay in his character. He seemed entirely drained, as if just an empty vessel at this point. Eyes glazed over with a sort of dull sheen, haggard and tired looking, skin that seemed devoid of any color, having lost the vitality he was once brimming with.

"Sunwoo…" (y/n) mumbled, shuffling back against the stovetop as carefully as she could muster. Her feet bumped against the shards beneath her, their scraping sounds against the floor offering the only sounds within the whole house. Yet Sunwoo again remained unperturbed, still staring at her with every ounce of energy left within his depleted body.

"Who was that, (y/n)?" His voice came out gravelly, almost strangled sounding even, as if forced out after its lack of use, yet still uncharacteristically steady with a low timbre.

She tried answering him, though her mouth ran dry, lips opening and closing helplessly as stuttered clips of her voice seemed to penetrate the hazy state she found herself in. As she floundered before him, cowering beneath his imposing stature which loomed over her with little to no regard for her pitiful state, his facade finally seemed to crack with the most minuscule of eye twitches.

"Who was that on the fucking phone, (y/n)?" He spat out the inquiry through gritted teeth, veins protruding from his neck as he drew impossibly closer to her, practically swallowing her whole as she backed as far into the stove as possible, the harsh metal digging into her lower back to get as far from Sunwoo as possible.

"It was just a coworker!"

"Liar!"

His voice boomed with pure unbridled rage, forcing (y/n) into the appliance behind her with a violent jostle. Her body ached at the impact site, and she could faintly feel the sting of a shard slicing beneath her foot, though she could barely even process the pain at these junctures, what with the voice that had suddenly bellowed forth from Sunwoo's body.

It was something she recognized. Something she had momentarily heard just yesterday, and something she couldn't really understand at the time. Something beyond her comprehension and reasoning. Yet now, it seemed as if her thoughts were as clear as could be.

It emanated from him with this eerie sonority. A disconcerting fusion of tones that seemed to coalesce and diverge in a discordant symphony. It held an otherworldly, menacing quality, as if several voices, each with its own timbre and cadence, were vying for dominance within the same vocal cords of the decrepit man they were housed in. The result was this haunting cacophony of layered articulates, a chilling chorus of spectral echoes that sent shivers down her spine.

A low, animalistic growl began reverberating deep within his chest, its encompassing resonance filling the atmosphere between them. She gazed at him frightfully, wary of meeting his eyes, skin prickling with nerves as she remained trapped before him. A debilitating discomfort seemed to broil within her. Something primal. Instinctual, as if her mind were seemingly overriding every other function of her body for the sole purpose of escaping as soon as possible.

Adrenaline now coursing through her veins, she shoved Sunwoo back with all of her might. It didn't impact him as much as she thought it would have, though it was enough of a surprise for her to take advantage of his momentarily stunned state and run.

The short distance from the kitchen to the main door felt almost endless as she heard his growl suddenly grow louder and infinitely more furious than it had initially sounded.

Yanking the door open felt liberating, and the sense of freedom which came from shedding the all consuming pressures of that accursed house and embracing the open, fresh air was near cathartic. She tumbled into the front lawn, breathless as her heart thumped incessantly in her chest. The blades of grass tickled at her exposed skin, the dew of the morning still lingering on their sharp ends and soaking her clothes, though the cool moisture and the soothing morning chill helped in diluting the rush that had taken over her body.

Still laying across the grass, (y/n) whipped her head behind her, shakily taking in the house once more, with objectively more opened eyes.

It stood as a malevolent force of nature against the unassuming and quaint suburban scene it lay within. It seemed like any other structure throughout this block, blending into the neighborly charm that had first captivated the couple, yet now she could see more closely the stark, ever foreboding shadow that seemed to radiate from within. There was this palpable aura of malignance that exuded from its very foundation, suffusing the atmosphere with this chilling dominance that seemed to both lure unsuspecting victims yet ward off those who knew of its intentions—and (y/n) seemed to have just crossed this threshold of knowledge.

She didn't know for how long she lay there, trembling from the aftermath of the morning, desperately attempting to regain whatever composure she could. Her eyes had remained locked upon the open doorway, waiting for the moment Sunwoo would come and drag her back into that depraved, ungodly house. Yet he never did. Instead, what drew her back to reality was the sound of a car pulling into her driveway.

"(y/n)!" The woman came rushing over to her with a haste (y/n) thought she'd never embody. The elderly lady helped (y/n) to her feet, practically dragging her up against her will before tugging on her arm. "Come, let's get you out of here."

For a moment, (y/n) followed with a hazy mind, merely following along without any sort of comprehension of what was happening. Though she finally snapped out of it when she saw two men walking by her, adorned in black robes and crosses.

"Wait," (y/n) mumbled, beginning to resist the woman as she turned just in time to see the men enter the house. "Wait, who are they? What's going on?"

"You shouldn't be here for this." Again, the woman attempted to pull (y/n) away, but when she heard a familiar scream inside, (y/n) had suddenly become alert as ever.

"Sunwoo. What are they doing to Sunwoo? I need to get him."

"(y/n)!" The woman grabbed her shoulders, squeezing them beneath her bony touch, eyes widened and frenzied. "That is not Sunwoo in there. You know as well as I do that Sunwoo is not here right now."

(y/n) felt herself sink into this deep, muddled tunnel vision. The voice of the woman seemed to muffle until finally growing mute. (y/n)'s eyes remained on her, but all she could hear was Sunwoo's screams from within. Anguished, desperate cries. Guttural as he screamed with all of his might, nearly drowning out the Latin incantations that were being hollered at him. She could feel her limp body being pulled away again, her bloodied and bare feet brushing against the cool dew of the grass once more, the yells growing further and further away, until one cry reached her ears.

Her name.

She slipped out of the woman's hold, whirling around as she booked it for the house. Her mind screamed at her to turn back, to leave this horrific scene, as if her great morning getaway was for naught. Though she was too compelled by the weakness in her heart that couldn't bear to be without Sunwoo, especially at a moment like this.

Barreling into the house, she froze at the nightmare taking place. Sunwoo bound by ropes onto a chair, thrashing about with every fiber of strength in his feeble body, head whipping to and fro as the two priests spoke affirmatively before him, bearing crosses aimed his way as they read from a small leather bound book. Visible veins now spread across his face like cracks of lightning in the sky. Blood pooled the whites of his eyes, his irises near indecipherable from the darkness now encompassing them. The sight broke her heart.

She felt the woman's touch rest upon her back, no longer attempting to pull her away as she had beforehand. She now merely served as an anchor for (y/n), as the girl bore witness to her beloved Sunwoo in this anguished, horrid state.

The room seemed to quake with the guttural symphony of Sunwoo's screams only growing louder in intensity, his skeletal form writhing against the restraints that bound him. The air grew thick with this suffocating tension, walls trembling as they attempted to contain the battle of light and darkness within. The priests pressed on, voices unwavering as their incantations poured forth like a tide against the dam of evil that obstructed them.

And then, in an instant, the abhorrent cacophony of screams that had once consumed the room ceased. Sunwoo's body fell limp, sagging against the chair in an unconscious state, his once wild eyes now vacant, staring into the abyss of the unknown until finally sliding shut.

Without any hesitation, (y/n) rushed to his side, skirting past the company that stood motionless in waiting. Her hands trembled as she gently lifted his head into her arms, cradling him against her chest as tears pooled in her eyes.

"S-Sunwoo?" Her voice quivered as she whispered his name, eyes darting across his face for any sign of life. Only silence greeted her as the first tears began to pour down her face.

For a moment, it was pure and utter silence. Her quiet sobs broke the tension as the priests and the woman slowly reconvened, watching the scene before them with tormented hearts, allowing (y/n) her time to grieve. Though that hadn't lasted as long as they had intended.

With a suddenness that sent a shockwave through the room, his eyes had snapped open. (y/n) paused in her crying, analyzing the face that looked up at her. His eyes were no longer that of a tormented soul they had been just moments prior. Instead, they now gleamed with this… eerie serenity. A calm that seemed to stretch infinitely.

A macabre smile curled upon his cracked lips, blood seeping from the corners as they slowly dripped forth from his mouth, staining his skin a ghastly crimson. And in a cracked, hollowed manner, he spoke.

"He's gone."

The words dripped with finality. A statement for the people who stared at him with irrevocable fear. As if an undeniable truth which could not be refuted. As if he spoke not of an unfortunate departure, but instead that of an inevitability forced upon the lot.

His lips spread even further, watching (y/n) with intent fascination as she drew away from him, trembling with tears streaking her face. He laughed, this raucous, jarring sound that immediately prompted the priests to continue their incantations. Though (y/n) knew their efforts were fruitless.

She had collapsed onto the floor, breaths growing shorter and more frequent, chest convulsing upon itself as she crumbled in upon herself. She could feel his stare still upon her, hear his crazed laughs flood her mind, taunting her with his demented victory. And all she could do was lay there, vision growing blurry and hearing growing fuzzy, world spinning and reality deteriorating before her. Left only to confront the daunting truth forced upon her.

Her beloved Sunwoo. The man who she bought her first house with. The man who filled her days with joy and laughter. The man who rekindled the spark of love within her that she thought had gone dormant. The man who showered her with his endless waves of love. The man who she had promised her life to.

He was truly, undeniably gone.

#sunwoo x reader #the boyz x reader #kim sunwoo x reader #sunwoo fanfiction #the boyz fanfiction #kim sunwoo fanfiction #sunwoo fanfic #the boyz fanfic #kim sunwoo fanfic #tbz x reader #tbz fanfiction #tbz fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic

54 notes · View notes

earthling-wolf · 2 years ago

Text

Ne Potentiality

Ne is a function that absorbs objects in realtime (Pe), then extrapolates (N) new objects from their indiscriminate recombinations. Like finding a ten-dollar bill on the street opens up a spectrum of possibilities for what to do with the money, a possibility space opens up around the objects Ne registers. Ne seeks unconventional ideas for what objects can transform or recombine into in this space. As the recombinations become more unconventional, their capacity to generate even more novel association chains increases, diverging ad infinitum.

Daydreaming

The Ne function is motivated to discover new information by absorbing it from the outside or synthesizing it from existing datasets through creative alchemy. It is highly imaginative, which is to say images and information structures of all kinds drive it. However, these images are not immediately evidenced in the environment but are all the environment evokes by containing an adjacent graphical relationship to the present. When faced with a situation, the Ne user will only casually consider the literal objects before them as their mind soon drifts up, around, and behind those immediate objects to uncover that moment's visual and conceptual implications. They quickly leap beyond the physical world and become lost in their heads, conjuring up novel ways to interpret situations as they unfold. They have a talent for manipulating information spatially and relationally, fitting together ideas that are otherwise largely disconnected. They may compare periodic table elements to music bands or entertain improbable "What if…" scenarios for fun. As children, they may be absentminded daydreamers who are oblivious to their surroundings and caught up in a self-made world of equal parts fiction and reality. The domain of their imagination can be far more interesting than whatever is happening in the outer world. Some may nurture this world with stories they make up, complete with characters, landscapes, and perhaps an entire legendarium.

Lack of Attention

However, the time the Ne user spends in their head often translates to time not spent in reality. Far more than the average student, they will be prone to space out in class and be unable to get through long texts or any tasks that require a very slow or arduous pace. Their perception of the world outside their interests will be faint, hazy, or splotchy. Should something not be particularly rich in associative potential, the details of objects in daily life will soon fade, leaving only their general impression as an after-image in their mind. When listening to others, as they are absorbing the person's words, one word will trigger a mental tangent midway, and they will pursue it curiously at the loss of what else the other person is saying. They can live a klutzy existence, tripping on objects, wearing mismatched clothes, losing things, and forgetting appointments regularly. However, despite this exterior inattentiveness, internally, they may experience quite a hyperactivity of thought. Far more is happening within than without, which can cause troubles such as over-thinking, excessive worrying about outcomes, or not getting a good night's sleep from an inability to slow down their mental chatter. They may find it challenging to keep a steady mental pace and can often be diagnosed with ADD, ADHD, or Sensory Processing Disorder. Reality can register to the Ne user as a series of information flashes that are somewhat spontaneous in nature and channel from every previous dataset collected in the unconscious.

Mass Data Absorption

Jarring as it may be to be inundated by sporadic correlative flashes, it can also be incredibly stimulating and addictive to be experiencing this imaginative feed constantly. A small rush or high may be felt every time a new idea pops into awareness. The Ne user will thirst after that realization; the sensation of novelty or curiosity intrigue. Moreover, when Ne is powerful, they seek this experience with undying fervor. They will become media junkies, often binge-watching entire seasons, rushing through novels and games, or going on researching sprees for days or weeks on end. A slowdown of volume, or a lack of things to absorb, can lead to feelings of stagnation, hollowness, and absence of thriving. As such, their impulse will be to pick up something else right after finishing the last thing, needing to have some form of interest always in mind. However, this can be problematic if they find themselves more engaged in the endless flux of information than in the information itself. Despite vast amounts of information entering, much may be going in one ear and out the other. A perpetual challenge for the Ne user will be to be more targeted in their attention and sink deeply into a few topics rather than spread themselves thin across dozens of topics. Moreover, when they learn to channel their focus toward a single direction, they can become overnight experts on subjects, memorizing every minute detail about a favored hobby, genre, pop idol, science experiment, or trivia category.

Serendipity & Flash Visions

The Ne user's capacity to synthesize such high volumes of information sometimes leads to spooky insights, uncanny realizations, and predictions of the relevant situation. Suddenly, a vision may flash before their eyes, stitched together from hundreds of unconscious micro-correlations accumulated around this moment, converging into one instance in time can lead to a semblance of clairvoyance where the Ne user attains some knowledge into the unseen causalities of the universe. They may come to trust this sense deeply whenever they feel it manifest. However, these sudden flashes will not represent a stable ability, and their appearance will be as unpredictable as their inspiration. In other cases, this can produce a habit of serendipity where the individual participates in a cosmic flow towards meaningful happenstances by consciously or unconsciously directing their energies toward those vectors. The Ne users will attune themselves to the realtime synchronicities of the universe, ebbing and dancing in harmony with an eternally unfolding fractal towards undiscovered lands. At a more modest scale, the Ne user's information synthesis will regularly evoke epiphanies when various information vectors -- previously suspended in an unconscious superposition -- click into alignment and burst forth immediate realizations that alter the fabric of their mind and paradigm. In all of these cases, the Ne user is rapidly altered -- seemingly by a divine act -- into a more accurate alignment with reality as it may exist at the broadest scale possible.

Tinkering

At a much more practical level, the strong Ne user is driven to absorb and synthesize information and actively participate in the information-collecting process. They will enjoy engaging with elements of reality through tinkering and experimentation. Over a few household devices may be taken apart as they yearn to see what is inside. They may take up a variety of interests ranging from sculpting to rock collecting, music composition, cosplaying, animation, voice acting, puppeteering, and ventriloquism – but will rarely become experts at any of them. As a jack of all trades and master of none, they will dabble with mediums frequently. However, they may find themselves changing hobbies every few years, which can also cause a great deal of disarray in their personal lives as they soon lose interest in a once-beloved life trajectory. Repetition is among their biggest turn-offs, and this can also lead to a life-long struggle with keeping a set occupation unless the Ne user is fortunate enough to find a job as dynamic and evolving as their interests. They enjoy being on the cusp of understanding and seeing what lies beyond their reach. Over time, every interest they have ever had has the potential to reignite itself in them spontaneously. On a whim, they may circle back to a hobby after having packed it up in the garage for years or decades and continue their joy for it as if no time had passed. Indeed, they often have closets or garages filled with various unfinished hobbies or projects - waiting for an occasion to become the center of their attention.

Puns & Quirky Humor

The Ne user will also have an integral sense of humor and bring it into their interactions. They can convert their wild imaginings into out-of-context parallels, comparing a person’s gait to a limping platypus, an unusual jawline to a can opener, or a shih tzu to an animated mustache. They will juxtapose ideas in absurd and off-the-wall ways and highlight the unseen peculiarities of things. The Ne user will have a natural drive to spark the environment and provide levity and life to situations and their lives. Life is too dreary if you cannot have a little fun. Wordplay can be a favorite medium of humor, where they will manipulate the semantics of the situation to make puns and associations. "Oh, you can sit here with me; chairing is caring!" or "That omelet was egg-squisite! But the bacon was hogwash" or spoonerisms like "I am stoing to the gore" may be commonly heard phrases. This sense of humor can lead many Ne users into stand-up comedy or adopt a role as a talk show host for their ability to improvise and keep a conversation going in unexpected directions.

Imitations & Parodies

The Ne user will also have a playful tendency to parody multiple characters and scenarios in realtime. A particular event or external sound/word will trigger an association chain that reminds them of a scene or meme, and their mind instantly re-enacts the mental and physical memory. The Ne user wears many hats and might be a walking record of enactments, ready to sprint into their acting mode immediately. They will manifest this in the form of "mini-skits" that imitate the iconic qualities of a thing. The Ne user may be an expert at playing with their facial muscles and making various expressions. They may also excel at modulating their voice tone, picking up and repeating accents from movie stars or obscure demographics. At a more functional and less recreational level, the Ne user can be adaptive and construct personas in social situations. Suppose they are driven to assume a specific professional or social role. In that case, they may seamlessly be able to play the part, which can sometimes become a longstanding act, as they use the persona for months until the Ne user may even forget that they assimilated or constructed the character in the first place.

-Behaviors Under Stress

Distraction & Escapism

When the hardships of life cause a fall out of emotional health for the Ne user, their first instinct will be to divert their attention away from the overwhelming pain. Humor, recreation, and consumerism will be exercised as an antidote to their pain, often leading them to engage in reckless spending and jovial displays and to seek out more risky experiences. On the inside, the Ne user will be viscerally compelled to stay on the run by avoiding their anxieties and fears. They will feel unable to stand up to the full magnitude of their despair, and rather than have it crush them, they choose to highlight or exaggerate positives and downplay or ignore the magnitude of any negatives. They may also become immersed in a specific media, binge-watching Netflix or playing video games instead of tending to pressing responsibilities. Despite a fully conscious awareness of the necessity of specific actions, the more pressing a responsibility is, the more their mind will fight powerfully to avoid it, disallowing proper mental focus and follow-through. The Ne user will conflict with their mind as it struggles to do anything but what it is supposed to do. Therefore, rather than address the issue head-on, the stressed Ne user may skirt around the problem, find something more magnetic to focus on, and wait for the project, assignment, or relationship to fail.

17 notes · View notes

gendervapor14 · 1 year ago

Text

two fights for freedom ~ chapter nine: catching up

“I’m counting more children than we have present according to the records we were given from the sheriff.”

“Oh…?” Arlong’s eyes lit up, “Is that so? How many?”

“One, I’m guessing.” Chuu stated, “Although it could be more. You know how children are. Not the easiest to track down, chuu.”

“Well…that’s an awfully interesting assessment.” Arlong clapped him on the back. “I’ll praise your sharp eye when we get more solid evidence. No use sending the people into a panicked frenzy for a false alarm. It’s only been a few weeks. I’d like my park finalized before we take any more drastic measures towards punishing the villagers.”

“Right.” Chuu glanced back at the interior of Arlong’s tower. “It is coming together very nicely.”

“Yes, it’s glorious.” Arlong agreed with an ambitious grin, “We’ll shape this whole archipelago in our image soon enough!”

this snippet is inspired by me watching some fishman park in the background while uploading. i realized maybe i should actually look at some of arlong's past a little instead of relying on memory and i forgot just how complex his respect for fisher tiger was. very interesting guy.

title: two fights for freedom rating: M category: F/M, gen content warnings: graphic depictions of violence status: incomplete, nine chapters, 27,900 words relationship: rosinante/bell-mere, cora & law, rosinante & hatchan, bell-mere & rosinante & law & nami & nojiko, rosinante & genzo, bell-mere & genzo characters: rosinante, bell-mere, law, nami, nojiko, genzo, nako, hatchan, arlong, arlong pirates additional tags: canon divergent, fix-it, everybody lives, pre-arlong park, angst with a happy ending, angst and feels, fluff and humor, hurt/comfort, suggestive themes, sexual tension, limes (yes i'm bringing limes back), eventual smut, romance, slow burn, arguing, financial issues, broken bones, references to depression, alcoholism, mental health issues, canon backstory, mentioned doflamingo, non-canon backstory (giving bell-mere a backstory), found family, medical inaccuracies, blood and injury, trafalgar d. water law is a little shit, developing friendships, past child abuse, nightmares, more tags to be added later (?) summary: freedom for one means adventure. exploring all the world has to offer, while avoiding the occasional haunting. freedom for another almost costs an arm and two daughters. a home, a village. perhaps freedom is best sought back-to-back. {a cora and bell-mère lives au}

♥

2 notes · View notes

margret-jons-blog · 7 months ago

Text

9 Reasons Why You Need a Logo Online

Your logo represents your business and serves as a signpost to the world. It's not just a luxury – it's a necessity and a business asset. In fact, if you don't yet have a logo then you've got to ask: 'Are you serious about your business or not?' Here are 9 reasons to consider getting your own logo as soon as possible: 1. To promote your business. Logos project your business image to visitors, customers and future customers. A well designed logo says you're serious about what you do. 2. To give you credibility and professionalism. When prospects see your logo on your websites and social media, they associate that logo to your business and even begin to look for it. 3. To make you more memorable. A business name only goes so far in triggering memory. As they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. And a catchy business logo makes you and your business far more memorable. After all, what's the use of being seen if you're not remembered? Of two similar businesses competing for the same customers, the one the customers remember is far more likely to get the business. 4. To clarify what your business does. Business names can sometimes be unintentionally deceptive, vague or simply unclear when it comes to the types of products or services your business offers. For example, Blue Rabbit Racetrack could be a place where blue rabbits race, or perhaps cars, horses, dogs or even people. By adding a Greyhound to the logo, it instantly becomes clear that Blue Rabbit Racetrack is for racing dogs. 5. To look bigger and more established. Like it or not, people tend to think a logo means you've been around the block and you're a “real” business. 6. To attract new business. Because you look and 'feel' more professional with a logo, prospects tend to trust you more. 7. To brand yourself. In the eyes of prospects, John Smith without a logo is just John Smith. But John Smith with a logo is a company – and thus appears more stable and trustworthy. 8. To increase your business's value. If you decide to sell your business one day, having a well-rounded package that includes marketing materials, graphics and a professional logo increases your business' perceived value. 9. To attract venture capital. See #8 above. How do you get a logo designed? You can Google logo creation and get hundreds of companies vying for your business. Most charge in the $100 to $300 range, while others charge far more. I remember reading years ago that the U.S. Postal service paid a million dollars for their (then) new logo. You, on the other hand, do not need to spend $100 or a million dollars. There are many reputable free and low cost logo creators online that can get you up and running with all of the benefits we've talked about above, and they are just a quick Google search away! Read the full article

#WhyYouNeedaLogoOnline

0 notes

amandi-mga2024mi5015 · 1 year ago

Text

Artist Research - David Hockney

Pop Art

Pop art depicts identifiable imagery drawn from media and pop culture. The movement was a major shift for the direction of modernism. With roots in Neo-Dada and other movements that questioned the very definition of “art” itself, Pop was birthed in the United Kingdom in the 1950s amidst a postwar socio-political climate where artists turned toward celebrating commonplace objects and elevating the everyday to the level of fine art. It was a response to the postwar era’s commodity-driven values.

Although they did not invent it, Andy Warhol, Roy Lichtenstein, and James Rosenquist became some of the most influential and famous artists within the movement. They rejected traditional historic artistic subject matter in lieu of contemporary society’s ever-present infiltration of mass manufactured products and images that dominated the visual realm. Perhaps owing to the incorporation of commercial images, Pop Art has become one of the most recognisable styles of modern art.

While many academics and critics were appalled by the pop artists’ use of mundane subject matter and by their apparently indiscriminate employment of it, Pop Art’s more figurative and down-to-earth imagery appealed to the general public and would soon become one of the most popular styles of art as well as one of the first manifestations of postmodernism.

Key Concepts and Characteristics:

Pop art addresses the classism and elitism present within the art world by creating paintings or sculptures of mass culture objects and media stars. The Pop Art movement aimed to blur the boundaries between "high" art and "low" culture. The concept that there is no hierarchy of culture and that art may borrow from any source has been one of the most influential characteristics of Pop Art.

Branded or commercial symbolism is an especially important theme in Pop Art. Incorporating logos or impersonal imagery reinforced the idea that art could be inspired by anything and everything, not just history, mythology or morality.

This is a natural characteristic of the movement considering that Pop art is a descendant of Dada. Dada is a nihilistic movement that was current in the 1920s that ridiculed the seriousness of contemporary Parisian art and, more broadly, the political and cultural situation that had brought war to Europe. Marcel Duchamp, the champion of Dada in the United States, who tried to narrow the distance between art and life by celebrating the mass-produced objects of his time, was the most influential figure in the evolution of Pop art.

Like Dadaism, Pop art often created unusual and nonsensical combinations of ‘found’ or ‘ready-made’ objects and imagery of popular, political or social phenomena. These objects or images are often displayed in collages, arranged in an artistic process called Appropriation. This is the copying, borrowing or altering of images or objects from mass popular culture.

Pop Artists also appropriated design industry processes such as commercial screen printing and immensely graphic layouts mimicking the ads, billboards, catalogues and other marketing-propaganda embedded in the world around them. For this reason, the style was originally referred to as ‘Propaganda Art’.

While abstract expressionists searched for trauma in the soul, Pop artists searched for traces of the same trauma in the mediated world of advertising, cartoons, and popular imagery at large. But it is perhaps more precise to say that Pop artists were the first to recognise that there is no unmediated access to anything, be it the soul, the natural world, or the built environment. Pop artists believed everything is inter-connected, and therefore sought to make those connections literal in their artwork.

Although Pop Art encompasses a wide variety of work with very different attitudes and postures, much of it is somewhat emotionally removed.

The art is often characterised by bold colours, particularly the primary colours: red, blue and yellow. The colours were usually bright and similar to your typical comic strip palette.

Some claim that Pop artists seemingly embraced the post-World War II manufacturing and media boom. Some critics have cited the Pop Art choice of imagery as an enthusiastic endorsement of the capitalist market and the goods it circulated, while others have noted an element of cultural critique in the Pop artists' elevation of the everyday to high art: tying the commodity status of the goods represented to the status of the art object itself, emphasising art's place as, at base, a commodity.

Richard Hamilton, a pioneer of the pop art movement, wrote down his own interpretation of the characteristics of British Pop art;

"Pop art is: Popular, transient, expendable, low-cost, mass-produced, young, witty, sexy, gimmicky, glamorous, and Big Business."

The term ‘popluar’ in this list is what interested me the most. ‘Popular,’ in this context, means that it is designed for the masses. The Pop Art movement is important because it made art accessible to the greater public, not just to the elite. As the style drew inspiration from commercial figures and cultural moments, the work was recognised and respected by anyone. Finally, there was an art form that felt not only pertinent but accessible to everyone. In some respects, Pop Art was ‘art for the people’.

Hard-edged compositions are a popular motif used to defuse the ‘painterly looseness’ of styles in Modernist art.

Pop art in America and Britain

The Pop art movement began as a form of academic inquiry. In 1952–55 a group of artists, architects, and design historians met regularly at the Institute of Contemporary Art in London to discuss disparate topics such as car styling or pulp magazines. The Independent Group, as they called themselves, were committed to developing a broad-based understanding of culture from its supposedly “high” forms to its popular ones. This philosophy informed the works of their main artist members, Richard Hamilton and Edouardo Paolozzi.

The group felt that the art exhibited in museums or taught at schools did not represent the real world, and so looked to contemporary mass culture for inspiration instead. At the height of its heyday, Pop Art was often heralded as ‘anti-art’ for refusing to abide by contemporary art standards at the time.

In the early 1960s a second generation emerged from the Royal College of Art in London, including Peter Blake, Pauline Boty, Richard Smith, and Joe Tilson. A younger generation of artists included David Hockney, Patrick Caulfield, and the American-born R.B. Kitaj. Hockney in particular acquired notoriety for rather fey and deliberately camp images of male nudes, which reflected his homosexuality. He eventually moved to Los Angeles, where he produced disconcertingly bland homages to California’s sun-drenched swimming-pool lifestyle.

In the US, the alluring ‘American Dream’ of success, beauty and money was driving a culture of celebrity-worship during the 50s and 60s. The arrival of the television in practically every home across the country impacted the entire cultural landscape. Every household was being filled with the faces and ideas of US musicians, athletes, actors and politicians praising the new-American age.

Due to USA’s status as a global superpower, many of its popular culture and media was presented to those in the UK. As a result, the pop art works of British artists were references to commercial culture that came from America. Therefore, while American artists were inspired by what they saw and experienced within their own culture and society, Pop Art in Britain was essentially influenced from afar.

British Pop Art was drawn from an outsider’s perspective, heavily borrowing lexicon, images and objects from post-war Americana. Fuelled by a desire to escape a barely recovered, post-war bankrupt nation, British artists created art which longed for – usually ironically – the glossy American Dream lauded on television, newspapers and in advertising.

Pop as it developed in America in about 1962 -1964 was much brasher in its overall ethos. American Pop art iconography—taken from television, comic books, movie magazines, and all forms of advertising—was presented emphatically and objectively, without praise or condemnation but with overwhelming immediacy, and by means of the precise commercial techniques used by the media from which the iconography itself was borrowed. Pop art represented an attempt to return to a more objective, universally acceptable form of art after the dominance in both the United States and Europe of the highly personal Abstract Expressionism.

Although I don’t see all that much value in this particular movement of art, proponents of it saw it as an art that was democratic and nondiscriminatory, bringing together both connoisseurs and untrained viewers. Despite my gripes with the movement, this is definitely a commendable endeavour.

Thankfully, the movement wasn’t all vague, noncommittal statements of contemporary culture. Warhol and Rosenquist in particular used pop art to send a strong anti-capitalist message and often critiqued American culture and politics. During 1962–63 Warhol produced his important Death and Disaster silk screens, which range from images of Marilyn Monroe, who had died from an overdose of sleeping pills shortly before the works were begun, to repeated images of harrowing car crashes, which made use of images culled from police files. Warhol’s use of bright, innocuous colour to overlay the car wrecks in those images commented on the failure of such images to generate empathetic responses in an increasingly image-saturated audience. As the 1960s progressed, Rosenquist, who specialised in producing large collage-like amalgamations of ambiguous fragments of imagery, reflected the growing U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War with his huge 51-panel painting F-111. The work juxtaposed close-up views of the titular military aircraft with the image of an atomic explosion.

Pop art found critical acceptance as a form of art suited to the highly technological, mass-media-oriented society of Western countries. Although the public did not initially take it seriously, by the end of the 20th century it had become one of the most recognised art movements.

0 notes

phantomphangphucker · 4 years ago

Text

Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”

Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class

Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.

Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).

But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.

Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.

Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.

She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.

Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.

Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.

However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.

Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.

“Mines all weird too!”.

“Same here!”.

“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.

“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.

“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.

“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.

“I know right”.

“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.

“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.

“Holy Shit”.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.

“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.

“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.

“Invisible and laughing at us”.

“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.

“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,

Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.

Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.

Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.

Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.

Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.

Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.

“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.

“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.

“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.

“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.

Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.

Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.

Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.

Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.

“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.

“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.

“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.

“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.

“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.

“Better question, how does Danny know?”.

Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger). Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.

Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.

“Oh my Zone, they know too”.

“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.

Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.

“Damn fucking straight”.

Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.

End.

Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...

239 notes · View notes

plethora-of-imagines · 3 years ago

Text

Burning Bright

AN: -

Word Count: 2436

Warnings: smut/lemon, wax play, sensation play

Description: DW Kinktober Day 2; Prompt: Sensation play The Master and you try out wax play for the first time.

Tag List: @c-s-stars @queerconfusionthings @how-masterful @truthbehindthemysteries

You couldn’t help but twitch and squirm in anticipation from your spot on the bed. Laying naked and waiting patiently was hardly a talent you possessed. The Master could attest to that with the number of times he had to tie you up to get through a punishment without squirming enough to risk a badly placed hit. Your nerves about the matter were not helping you to calm down either. The Master’s hands gently rubbed lotion into your skin, soothing you even if you didn’t see the connection between his actions and getting prepared for your dip into wax play.

He didn’t miss an inch of skin, showing equal attention to your breasts and your stomach. His affectionate and lavish attention allowed you to slowly reign in your nervous anticipation.

“Why the lotion Master?” You curiously questioned now that your mind wasn’t spiraling into a panic about what was to come.

“The lotion will help to get the cooled wax off with ease, making aftercare less stressful for the both of us. It also has the added benefit of being a precautionary measure in case you don’t like the sensation.”

Nerves returning at the mention of possibly not liking the feeling of hot wax on your body you uncomfortably shifted. Ever the attentive lover the Master noticed. His soft brown eyes gleaming with concern.

“My dear,” he hesitantly broached the subject, "perhaps we should try this again on a different day. You’re working yourself up to the point I fear you may be sick with worry.”

“No!” You almost yelled. “No, I really do want to try this. I always get like this with new kinks Master.”

You were shy in admitting this. He had never seen you like this before all full of nervous energy at the prospect of trying a new kink.

“I already knew I was into all of the other things we typically do... So this is something outside of my comfort zone, but I really do think I’ll like it.”

“Alright,” he conceded. “But you simply must calm yourself down, my dear! If you cannot relax enough to dismiss my concerns for your headspace I will stop this before it has even started.”

Finished with their task of rubbing the lotion fully into your skin the Master’s hands guided you to lay back down. Propped up by smooth silk pillows, the angle that you were laying at was chosen to ensure the wax would drip down your body and not all pool in one area.

Once you were settled down the Master lit the first candle. The dark black candle was held in place by a small ring stand, clearly stolen from his own lab for convenience. Beneath the candle was a small golden dish that you had seen on the Master’s desk. Normally it had been used to collect wax for sealing letters closed, so it was a perfect fit as an addition to your foray into wax play.

As the Master busied himself preparing the candle and ensuring it was safely burning your mind drifted off. Thinking back on what had inspired the two of you to try this new kink out. It had been an art exhibition with live models where you had watched an alien be made into an art piece with droplets of wax. The elite of high alien society often watched odd demonstrations of all sorts of things. Both you and the Master found yourselves more appreciative of the art exhibitions than the other types. The science ones were normally child’s play for the Master and the torture ones were too graphic for your tastes.

The soft moans that the model had made as they were covered in wax and the image they made had captivated you. Your eyes unable to pull themselves away from the sight of wax slowly dripping down and then off their body onto the floor. The Master had only had eyes for your reaction. He had been the one to suggest trying it yourselves. After he extensively researched into how to make it safe for you, of course. You had eagerly agreed, the high of emotions from having seen it for the first time making any hesitations you normally would have had disappear. Now, with the moment so close to happening the nerves had appeared.

Your reminiscing was interrupted by the Master sitting down on the bed with you. You watched as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. Exposing his forearms to you. The perfect image of a man in control of the situation. As always you loved to watch him undress even the slightest bit. Time Lord modesty your personal enemy.

Shocking you the Master lifted the candle above his own skin, letting several drops fall onto the underside of his arm. Heart swelling with a warmth at how seriously he took your safety.

“Your arm, my dear?”

Less of a request and more of a demand, you quickly gave your arm over to him. Palm facing up, he pressed a kiss to your lifeline as the hand not holding onto the burning candle cradled yours. His head slowly lifting, looking deep into your eyes.

“You will let me know if the test drops are too hot.”

His voice was firm, strict even as he told you what you would do.

“Yes, Master. I will tell you if they are too much.”

He always wanted you to demonstrate that you understood what he said. If you didn’t fully respond, the scene would stop for a check-in. You didn’t want to give yourself a chance to back out now.

Time slowed down as you watched the first drop of wax slowly drip onto your skin. The heat was a lot to process, but it quickly subsided. Goosebumps covered your skin as you shivered in pleasure. Now you were eager to feel the sensation on the rest of your skin.

“Is this alright, my dear?” You nodded with no further prompting needed. “A verbal response, my dear.”

Oh right, you had literally just been thinking about the need for that. As you found your voice the Master placed the dripping candle back into its makeshift holder.

“Yes, Master. That was wonderful, please continue.”

“Remember to stay as still as you can, we wouldn’t want to end this pleasant moment of candlelight intimacy with misplaced wax.”

The small crucible of wax was held above your skin, tipped ever so slowly so as to give you time to anticipate the sensation the wax meeting your skin would have. Gasping as your back instinctively arched with the heat of the wax. The burning sensation rapidly changed to shivers of pleasure as the wax rapidly cooled on your skin. Looking down you saw the river of black wax covering the skin between your breasts reaching down to your stomach and stopping before your belly button. Your arching back having made the wax creep towards your breasts in bursts like fireworks.

“More please Master,” you begged.

“Patience is a virtue, my dear. One you will have to learn if we continue to enjoy wax play, it does take time for the wax to melt.”

Chastised you didn’t dare utter another word, waiting in eager anticipation for the next pour of wax. The next pours were smaller amounts, focused on covering the skin of your breasts. The wax covering your breast was thinner than the first pour had been, more care being taken to ensure that the sensitive skin of your breasts was not burned. It left you with a patch of exposed skin on the underside of your breasts, where the wax hadn’t traveled to fully.

His canvas now almost fully covered in black wax, the Master started to burn the gold candle. He had asked you to pick the colors to be used on your body as soon as he had finished researching what candles could be used. He had been as eager to try this as you were. The combination of black and gold had seemed perfect to you. Black being the color he wore the most and the gold matching the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Not that you had told him the reason for your choices. Even without the symbolism, you had in mind the color combination was a good one.

Without waiting too long for the gold candle wax to start dripping the Master held it above your skin. Letting it start to fall onto the already present wax. Dripping down your body until it cooled as a small drop of wax, ending its journey. Some of the droplets splattered as they hit your body, too small an amount to trail down your body. Leaving small circular marks dotting your wax-covered skin like freckles. You felt like a work of art.

You giggled as the Master picked up a glass stir rod. Was he just raiding his lab for things to use?

“What’s the glass stir rod for Master?” You teased.

He fixed you with a playful glare as he responded, “I thought that some more control over where the wax dropped would help with the masterpiece we were making of your body, but if you’d rather I freehand the drops to make sure they trail down your body to cover your very sensitive nipples...”

“Uh nope, no the stir rod is fine!” You squealed. You did not think you were ready for the feeling of hot wax poured directly on your nipples.

Carefully the Master continued to drip wax onto you, making the cooling drips of wax aesthetically pleasing. You loved it, you felt stunning. All of the Master's attention to detail hyper-focused on you and you alone. Your pleasure, your beauty, your comfort, only you.

One last drop of wax trailed down your body like a shooting star across the galaxy. Reaching your stomach before it cooled, it was the largest droplet yet. With no warning, the Master pressed his signature ring into the hot wax on your body. Holding it in place until it cooled. Moaning wildly at the action, you felt so owned being marked, branded as the Master’s.

You kept staring at the sign of his ownership over you. Not noticing that he had put the candles away until he was lifting you into his lap. Just holding you close as the wax fully cooled and hardened.

“I feel like you’ve made me into a masterpiece, a work of art to be admired by all.”

“You’ve always been a sight that inspired awe, my dear. Forgive me, however, if I selfishly hide you away from all others."

Reverently your fingertips brushed over the indentation the Master's signature ring had made in the gold wax, feather-light almost afraid to ruin it.

"I belong to you Master."

"For as long as you want to, my dear."

You basked in the Master's affection, his hands exploring the still uncovered skin. All too soon you could feel the Master start to chip away at the cooled wax covering your body. A blunt-edged business card covered in a laminate-like material seemed to be his tool of choice. One of his previous aliases was the name stamped on the card. Unexpectedly, to you, the sensation of the wax being removed was pleasurable. In a very different way than it being poured or dripped onto you was. Removing it reminded you of peeling off old paint in long strips. Just, oddly satisfying. You couldn't think of another way to describe it.

"You like this part a lot, don't you Master? The soothing, repetitive motion is meditative for you."

"Your reactions to all of the sensations you experienced were all entrancing. The sight of your body coming alive as the wax hit it, exquisite. But this moment, here with you in the quiet, held close in my arms. Yes, this is my favorite moment."

The last of the wax flicked off of your body with a flourish freed you to nestle face-first into the Master's soft silk dress shirt.

"Charmer," you muttered, hiding your face in his chest.

Stroking your hair, the Master began to gently start interrogating you.

“Would you want to give this another try, my dear? Was it what you hoped it would be?”

Humming you tried to think of how to verbalize your feelings.

“I liked it, a lot. Over time I could feel the wax less, just due to the thickness of the layers already on me. Maybe next time we take that into account?”

Kissing the crown of your head the Master considered your words, “a simple enough request, my dear.”

You hesitated to bring up your next ideas, but it couldn’t hurt to ask. He could always just say no.

“Next time could we, maybe add some impact play, or use some ice as well?”

“We can certainly try and incorporate a spanking, my dear. A tried and true experience that we both enjoy thoroughly. As for the addition of ice, I hope you won’t mind my hesitation to include that in our play. At least in conjunction with wax,” he paused to shift you into a more comfortable position in his lap as he reached for something on the floor. “I don’t want to risk any shock to your nerves from the extreme temperature change.”

A warm and wet washcloth was being carefully rubbed over your still flushed skin. Eyes fluttering closed at the comfortable repetitive passed he was making up and down your skin. Twitching just a bit as he brushed over your nipples. They were very sensitive compared to the rest of your skin.

“Fair enough, Master,” you gave your delayed reply to his concerns. “Thank you.”

He chuckled before inquiring, “whatever could you be thanking me for, my darling?”

“Taking care of me like this.”

Something smooth and silky was maneuvered onto your body. Eyes opening just enough for a quick peek, it appeared to be some sort of silk slip. Mhm, it felt heavenly against your skin.

“My dear, there is no need to thank me for what is a privilege and pleasure to do.”

His hand slipped underneath the short hem of the dress he had put you in. Lifting you by your thighs and shifting you to lay next to him as he moved to lay down fully on the bed. Fixated on the feeling of the cold metal of his ring against your skin you let yourself drift back into a blissful afterglow. This was definitely worth enduring through the nerves, you couldn’t wait to do it again.

#dwkinktober21 #kinktober 2021 #the master x reader #delgado!master x reader #prompt: sensation play

24 notes · View notes

lombredanslaeu · 5 years ago

Text

where the heaven are we? | j. jaehyun

plot: a trip back to jung jaehyun’s childhood home triggered his memory of you. a bottle of pills a friend gave years ago aided jaehyun in finding out what happened after he left - and if your fate was all his fault.

word count: 8k

genre: romance (fluff, angst), time travel-ish! au

warnings: drug use/abuse, addiction, implied smut (not too detailed), messy af writing lol

not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes

The house was cold and quiet. Surfaces were covered with a thin layer of dust as old memorabilias of Jaehyun’s parents remained as still as yesterday. After his father’s death, Jaehyun delayed selling the house as much as he could. But opportunities for money came and he found himself filling boxes. The movers were supposed to take all the boxes tomorrow. Jaehyun only has one room left to empty: his childhood bedroom.

Pictures of him and his college friends were plastered against the walls. The bed and pillows were rid of sheets as no one was using them anyway. Jaehyun decluttered before leaving home so there was not a lot of stuff to pack. A small shoe box sat inside the empty closet. The contents of the box triggered a wave of nostalgia all over him.

The box contained letters, photos, and small trinkets. It was as if someone put his college life into a small box. An orange, translucent cylinder caught Jaehyun’s eye. Beside the cylinder was a polaroid of you - smiling, full of life.

Jaehyun stared at his reflection. The image of the man he used to be was no longer found in the reflection staring back at him. Strands of grey found themselves in his hair. His youthful skin was starting to form wrinkles. There was a slight ache on the joints of his fingers. The sensation made him realized how old he actually is. He lived a long life. He went through the highs and the lows.

“Yes, son, I already recieved the email.” He spoke through the speaker of the phone.

“How was it, dad?” The young man asked.

“Good job, Jeno.” Jaehyun complimented. “I expect more of this work soon?”

“You got it.” Jeno replied.

“I’ll call you again tomorrow.”

“Okay. See you, dad.”

For a moment, he believed that he had done everything he needed to do in life. He had a loving wife and a smart son. The image of a perfect family hung above the staircase. That’s how life was for him; he was successful and adored. They say what matters most is what lies ahead. But Jaehyun couldn’t shrug off a memory of a girl from decades ago.

No portrait was big enough to overpower the small image of your smile. It reminded him of something that’s been unfixed for such a long time, he doesn’t know if there’s still a chance to resolve it.

Jaehyun felt weirdly tired. Perhaps it was the age talking but it was still weird since it was a Sunday and he did not have work. It was unusual for him to feel weary on a weekend. He yawned as he rest his body on the bed. His head spinned as if he was drunk. Before he could think of a thought, his eyes fluttered.

The scene was a regular day at university. Jaehyun crossed his eyebrows as he stared at his reflection in the campus restroom. His complexion was youthful - rose-colored flush spread across his cheeks. His hair was a soft shade of pink. The distant voice of Johnny Suh was heard behind a cubicle.

Where the fuck am I?

“Dude, I’m so fucking tired of taking care of your drunk asses at every party.” Johnny continued to complained. Jaehyun’s eyes widened at Johnny.

Johnny did not look like the Johnny he saw two days ago at the restuarant. The Johnny in front of him has black hair while the Johnny from two days ago had red.

“Do you even want to go to Taeyong’s party tonight?” Johnny asked. It took Jaehyun a few seconds to realize that he was being questioned. He muttered a small yes. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t sleep well last night.” Jaehyun made up the excuse. He has no idea why the hell is he reliving his college self. The thought both scared and intrigued him.

Jaehyun’s mind was still drifting as they walked across the building. His nerves tingled in his fingertips. It’s been years since he last walked the campus and yet it seemed like he was also here yesterday. His eyes lit up at the sight of his college friends, clumped up at a small bench near the field.

“I’m only going if Doyoung is going.” Johnny announced.

“I already told you, everyone is going.” Taeyong answered back.

“I better not be in charge of the fucking booze again.” Taeil complained.

“Haechan will forget half of the things I’ll tell him to buy.” Taeyong rebutted.

Jaehyun stayed quiet. It hasn’t sunk into him yet that he was indeed reliving the past. But why? Was it because of the box he discovered days ago?

This is so fucking weird.

It hasn’t occured to him yet why this is happening. He leaned back at the bench and stared at the clear sky. The chaotic chattering of his friends occupied his ears. He definitely felt young. The aging burden he’s been carrying lately was liften off his shoulders.

Jaehyun’s head started to be spin. He sat straight to stabilize the world around him. Running his hands across his hair, he attempted to speak to his chatting friends. None of them seemed to notice Jaehyun’s distress. It weirded him out that Sicheng was looking at him and talking as if Jaehyun was alright. Black dots appeared in his vision. He blinked rapidly as he glanced one more time among his friends who acted as if nothing was happening. He couldn’t explain the phenomenon. It was like he’s about to faint. Only a sound of static was heard as he closed his eyes - in an attempt to stop the world from turning.

After a few seconds, Jaehyun’s heard started to feel normal. Although, a different type of sound could be heard by his ears. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at his feet. He was standing now. The color of the room was a mix of purple and red. Loud music bounced through the four walls of the room, accompanied by the shouting of people. He was at a party.

Jaehyun looked all around him. He recognized the place immediately. This was Taeyong’s house. Jaehyun felt drunk. It wasn’t the nauseating type of drunk. He felt good; he felt as if he was invincible. He only felt this way while he’s drinking with his friends. He only felt this way when he was with someone he couldn’t put a name into. Jaehyun approached Yuta who was on the couch, rolling a blunt.

“It’s weird to see Jung Jaehyun without a girl under his arm on a party.” Yuta commented. The thick smoke of the blunt covered his smirking face.

“I’m just as confused as you.” He replied.

“Have you seen the freshmen?” Yuta asked. “Boy, Johnny did not lie when he said they were hot.”

“I haven’t yet.” Jaehyun took a sip of his beer. “It’s hard to determine who’s a freshie and who’s not.”

“Taeyong made the freshmen wear a yellow bracelet.”

“Why?”

“So we know who to fuck with and who to not.”

Soon enough, Yuta became occupied with a girl who sat beside him. Before standing up to go somewhere, Yuta handed a small cylindrical container to Jaehyun. “Ten said to give this to you. He said to only take it when necessary.”

The orange, cylinder. The one he saw inside the shoe box in his bedroom. He straightened his back with his heart pounding loudly in his chest. He still wasn’t sure why the hell he’s in this timeline of his life. He was hoping he could know the answers tonight.

“Oops.” A small body collided with his strong one. The impact shook Jaehyun out of his reverie. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jaehyun replied. “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?”

The girl look at his eyes. Jaehyun felt a heat rush to his ears and cheeks. He was thankful that the lights were dim or else the girl would have noticed his red ears.

“I don’t think so.” The girl replied. “I’m a trasnferee.”

“Really? From where?”

“I took my first year in Yonsei.”

“That’s quiet far from here.” Jaehyun added. “Oh, by the way, I’m Jaehyun.”

“I’m Y/N.” The girl replied, shaking his hand.

A minute ago, Jaehyun had no idea why all of a sudden, he was reliving his college life. Now, he knows why.

A ringing in his head made Jaehyun press his palms against his temples. He shook his head. It was happening again. A nauseating feeling erupted in Jaehyun’s stomach. With a fleeting second, the earth beneath him felt normal. He was almost scared to open his eyes. He was scared of what lies before him. With a gulp, he opened them.

“Come on, Y/N, back me up!” Johnny yelled at the graphic video game in front of him.

“Ugh! There’s so many orcs on my way!” You screamed back.

“Johnny, you’re supposed to heal us too.” Jaehyun complained. Why the hell did he know what to say and what to do in a video game he hasn’t played in decades? “Not just you!”

“Attack, attack, attack!” Johnny commanded.

A series of keyboard clicking erupted through the living room of Johnny’s house.

“Yes!” You all exclaimed as “victory” presented on the screen of your laptops.

“Damn, I’m beat.” You announced, leaning back on the couch.

“I wish we could stay this way forever.” Jaehyun spoke. “Just carefree nerds battling orcs.”

“Who said we’re nerds?” Johnny faked an offending face.

“Yeah, we’re just some college kids who decided to reward their hardwork with these childish games.” You replied.

“I’m proud of you and Johnny for winning the national debate.” Jaehyun said with a huge grin on his face.

“I’m glad I met you guys.” You said wholeheartedly. The men beside you sent gagging sounds over your cheesy sentiment. You playfully punched their arms as you prepared yourselves for another night of video games.

Jaehyun wasn’t supposed to take it but he needed to see you again. It has been a week since he rediscovered the pills Ten gave him. He didn’t know if this could affect his health. He didn’t even know if Ten is still alive. He didn’t know if the pills were legit, if they were expired, or if it was some bad drugs that Ten disguised as magic pills. All he knew was there has always been a hole in his soul. All because of you. For the past years of his life, he wondered what would have happened if things didn’t turn out the way they did.

Memories of you suddenly flooded his mind. The image of your soft hair hitting his face as you frolic through the field together. The warmth of your arms as you hug him out of the blue. Most importantly, he remembered your loyalty. It all came back to him now.

He really shouldn’t have done it but he could only do so much now that one of Ten’s pills was already sitting in his stomach.

His head felt light. The world around him seemed to double as he tried to shake out of it. His fingers felt rigid but his legs were wobbly. Swaying left and right, Jaehyun could hardly make it back to his room. He expected to collapse on to the cold tiles of his bathroom floor but a soft mattress welcomed him instead.

Pill #1

This time, the scenario was happening inside one of the campus libraries.

Wow. So Ten’s pills really do work.

Jaehyun felt selfish. He felt bad that he was running away from his current life to see you again. What else was he supposed to do? He was given the opportunity to fix an unsolved bridge in his past. He’s not letting this time slide.

“I hate this subject so much.” You complained. The table that you and Jaehyun shared was trashed with different variations of papers and pens.

“Come on, what is it about?” Jaehyun asked.

“Something about quarks and photons.” You groaned and rest your head on your palms.

“It’s not that bad. Look,” Jaehyun said. He took a scratch paper and a pen. “It says here that photons aren’t considered as a matter because they don’t have mass. Quarks, however, have mass.”

“Therefore, photons aren’t made up of quarks.” You concluded.

“See? It’s not that bad.” Jaehyun teased.

You glared at his smug face. He chuckled and looked at his phone. There was a message from Jungwoo.

Jungwoo Kim [4:45 pm]: wow lover boy’s on the move

Jaehyun [4:46 pm]: Wtf?

Jungwoo Kim [4:48 pm]: I know about your little crush on Y/N

Jungwoo Kim [4:48 pm]: DO NOT WORRY. ur secret is safe with me ;)

He shook his head at his friend. Jaehyun leaned back at his chair. His eyes remained on your slouching figure. Your brows furrowed as you tried to slow an equation. Your hair swayed in the wind caused by the large fan on the ceiling. Jaehyun hated what happened between the two of you. He was worried, however, about how far each pill could take him. He only had 4 remaining pills left. It boggled his mind how the pills could determine how far in the past it could take Jaehyun.

“You hungry?” Jaehyun asked all of the sudden.

You were taken aback. But it would be a lie to say that you didn’t find Jaehyun attractive. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure that how beautiful he is.

“Yeah.” You replied. “Getting quiet tired of all these studying.”

You fixed all your scattered belongings on the table. The sun was still out despite the time being late into the afternoon.

“It’s a Friday.” You announced. “Don’t you have any plans you should be preparing for right now?”

“The guys are taking it easy this weekend.” Jaehyun answered. “There’s a lot of exams coming up.”

“Wow, for such party people, you sure are responsible.”

“Hey, it’s not easy being a business management major.” Jaehyun’s response made you laugh. “What made you take up physics?”

“I like the universe.” You replied. “More than that, I like how there’s still so much left to be answered. What causes things to function they way they do? What happens inside a black hole? Can you get out? When will the universe reach its unevitable end and what happens after that?”

Jaehyun watched you as you rant on and on about why you chose to study that. He saw the gleam in your eyes as the skies washed your face with its golden light.

“I hope I can live long enough to know the answers.”

The last few words of your sentence bounced back and forth. The golden skies whirled and Jaehyun waited for it to happen again. As if bracing for impact, he held his head between his hands and closed his eyes.

“A little birdie told me that you have a little crush on someone.” You were wearing a yellow sun dress.

The meadow behind you was filled with flowers matching the color of your dress. The skirt of it flowed through the wind as you held your head to keep your hat from flying.

“What? What crush?” Jaehyun stuttered.

“Come on, Jaehyun, who’s the lucky girl?” You looked at him with doe eyes.

You.

“I’ll tell you once I ask her out.” Jaehyun replied.

“Ugh,” You groaned. “How about this: I tell you who my crush is and you tell me mine.”

“Deal.” Jaehyun wanted to slap himself for agreeing.

“I have a crush on Johnny.” You confessed.

Jaehyun felt a pang in his chest. You like Johnny. Of course, you would. Johnny is a sweet and smooth guy. He tried his best to hide his frown.

“Oh.” Jaehyun muttered. “Well, I like Mina.”

You smiled sweetly at him, clearly impressed with yourself that you got him to confess. You turned your back from him as you frolic in the field. Jaehyun could only watch your swaying figrue as you drift farther and farther away.

Jaehyun woke up in cold sweat. The shine was starting to shine through the windows. He groaned as he sat up in the bed. He glanced over the bedside table. There stood two photo frames - one of him and his wife and one of his son. The death of his wife was followed shortly by the death of his father. Jaehyun loved Adelaine. She was a woman of psychology - respected and adored by many. He lifts the frame and looked at their young and smiling faces. Jaehyun was happy. He lived a happy life, with a loving wife and a smart son. His smile soon fell as he remembered his dream last night.

“Tought night?” Kun slipped a cup of coffee on Jaehyun’s desk.

“Nah.” Jaehyun replied, getting the cup. “Just watched some movies until it was 3:00 pm.”

“Is this what living alone does to a man?”

“Shut it, Kun.” Jaehyun growled.

‘I’m just kidding.” Kun laughed. “Hey, you ready to meet the physicists this afternoon?”

Jaehyun could only swallow bitterly.

Your hopes and dreams lingered in Jaehyun’s mind. For the longest time, he believed that you, among many of his friends, were one of the reasons behind the darkest days of his life. He believed that the reason the universe made him rediscover the shoe box was to remind him of why he should think that way. Aside from your hopes, your laugh echoed through Jaehyun’s brain. All of a sudden, he felt guilty for having to experience the joys of life. He figured that if he became happy, you should be too.

Many reunions came along and he never found you in any of them. He would ask your mutual friends where you were - if you were still alive. They all answered the same thing: “I don’t know.” It was as if you never existed. A part of him wanted to believe that you were gone; probably to alleviate the guilt and pain. Besides, there’s no reason for you to ditch all reunions and disappear from the face of the earth. A bigger part of him believed that you just moved on with your life - whether still with vices and or without. He wanted to know what happened. He wished he gave his younger self a chance to turn and see you one last time.

He was definitely swallowing another pill tonight.

Pill #2

The pain felt fresh. In real time, it would have been 30 years since Jaehyun’s parents dropped the news about their divorce. Right now, the pain in Jaehyun’s chest was stinging. In real time, he would have forgotten the words his mother threw at his father. But right now, it still rings in his ears as if he just heard it an hour ago.

“I wish I could do something, bud.” Ten spoke silently beside him.

Jaehyun could only smile. The divorce was something Jaehyun carried with him throughout his whole life. He was afraid of failing at marriage, he was afraid of hurting his children.

“It’s okay, Ten.” Jaehyun replied.

“You know what,” Ten went to one of his drawers and pulled out a small, clear bag. “I’m not sure if you’re gonna agree, but I can assure you this takes away the pain.”

Jaehyun could only stare as Ten emptied a bag into the table. He took his school ID card to form the powder into a thin line. After rolling a piece of paper, he used it to connect the powder to his nostril. The scenario enticed Jaehyun. With the pain he was feeling right now, he wanted to feel something. Before he knows it, he was laying on his back with a burn in his left nostril.

Jaehyun’s mind felt hazy. It was as if he was seeing stars and flying amongst them. He no longer felt the ache of his parents’s divorce, he no longer remembers their arguing. It was as if the universe fell into place. He saw stars, he saw constellations, he saw galaxies. And most importantly, he saw you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” A dazed Ten spoke beside him.

“Y/N.” Jaehyun replied.

He saw you beside him, under him, in front of him. He saw you laughing, smiling, frowning.

A female’s laughter entered the scene. Jaehyun’s vision blurred as the world began warping in front of him. Ten’s body was slowly disappearing from Jaehyun’s vision as he saw a wide, white light. The burn from the light caused Jaehyun to shut his eyes close. When everything felt stable again, he slowly opened them.

This was another scene. He remembers this time like the back of his hand. How he hated every memory of it for it was the start of your ruin. He looked over you as blood left his face.

You threw your head back, forcing the white powder to hit deeper in your system. You looked over a dazed but still beautiful Jaehyun. You laid down beside him.

“Did I do it right this time?” You asked him.

“Yeah.” Jaehyun answered.

You were only looking up at the beaten and growning ceiling. However, little specks of glitter appeared everywhere. The glimmer of the specks shined as they doubled in size and in quantity.

“Can you see that?” You inquired.

“What?” Jaehyun looked over at your amused side profile.

“The stars. I can see them.”

Jaehyun looked up once more at the ceiling. The brightest star was already shining beside him.

“I see it.” Jaehyun answered, still basking in your beauty.

Soon enough, you felt as if your body was floating. You felt as if you could touch the stars. You raised one hand up to touch one of the specks but it vanished at your touch.

“Where the heaven are we?” You spoke.

Jaehyun’s chest began to tighten. In the center of your made up universe emerged a black hole. Jaehyun leaned forward and let it take him.

“I don’t know.” You responded gingerly.

“Come on, Y/N.” Jaehyun insisted. “This would be last one for the week.”

It’s only Wednesday and yet you already wasted Jaehyun’s one week supply of drugs. Johnny shook his head besides him.

“Jae, maybe you should take a break for now.” Johnny suggested.

“But I need an extra boost to finish that history essay!” Jaehyun reasoned out.

His sentiment made you remember why you got an A+ on your essay about quantum mechanics. You remembered the feeling and suddenly, you were craving for it.

“This is the last one for the week, okay?” You said, igniting joy in Jaehyun.

Johnny looked over his friends. In a few years, he would beat himself for doing nothing. Right now, all he did was walk away.

Darkness was slowly introducing themselves in Jaehyun’s vision. It was a signal for another time wrap. Although his nerves went array, he still prayed that it would take him back to a time where you’re sober. The world stabilized itself but the image in front of Jaehyun punched him in the chest.

A bottle of vodka in one hand and a syringe in one. Your once plush cheeks was starting to hollow. The red tint of the lipstick your wore was struggling to hide the blue. You look miserable, but you felt happy. You looked over at Jaehyun - the beautiful man that is Jung Jaehyun.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Your voice was coarse and deep, but it still had the sweetness to it.

Jaehyun looked over your features again. He felt miserable but all he did was smile.

“I like you a lot.” Jaehyun confessed. He does. He adored everything about you. In 30 years, Jaehyun could only remember so much yet he remembers everything about you.

“I like you too.” Your response made Jaehyun rise from his seat. The feeling of your lips against his was something he yearned for decades. And he felt it now.

Sparks exploded between you and Jaehyun.

“What took you so long to do that?” You asked.

“Never had the chance.” He replied.

All he did was blink. All Jaehyun did was sigh and blink. All of a sudden, the scenario changed before him.

“I want more! I fucking want more!” You exclaimed.

The bags under your eyes were darker than it was just seconds ago. Your hair was also shorter, falling just below your collar bones.

“Why are you just standing there? I fucking want more!” You screamed, thrashing around in a chair.

“I can’t give you more until you finish your essay.” Jaehyun warned.

“Fuck that essay!”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened. Just months ago, you were so passionate about physics. You could do an essay or answer an equation in a snap. Now, you couldn’t do anything.

Your mouth felt dry and your throat was coarse. There was a insatiable thirst that water can’t seem to fix. You held your head with your palm as you stare into your lap. This wasn’t you. Just seconds ago, you felt infinite. Now, you just felt empty. You needed more but the rational part of your brain screamed no. You wanted to feel something, to feel alive. That’s why the next thing Jaehyun knew, you were kissing him with all your might.

The force of your lips againts his gave Jaehyun the signal to lead you to the bedroom. It was beyond Jaehyun’s morals to fuck you while you’re high but he couldn’t find any other way to silence you. The soft mattress was soon adorned with scattered clothing and two lovers. Each sensation of Jaehyun inside you drove you to a frenzy, it gave you a feeling of bliss that you never felt before. You loved the stars, you love the galaxies. Tonight, you didn’t have to be an astronaut to see the universe unfold before you.

“I want to live with you forever.” You whispered against Jaehyun’s lips.

Jaehyun clinked his glass with Johnny. The dark whiskey swirled inside the glass as Jaehyun started at his aged reflection.

“Hey, Jae?” Johnny called out to him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still remember Y/N?”

Johnny’s question made Jaehyun’s heartbeat race. The memories of his time exploration last night was enough to answer Johnny’s question. But Jaehyun refused to tell Johnny all about it. The older man would probably just conclude it as an “aging hallucination.”

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

“I still wonder what happened to her.” Johnny answered. “It was as if she vanished from everyone’s memory.”

“Me too.”

“Did you regret it?”

“What?” Jaehyun looked at Johnny, confused.

“Did you regret getting her into drugs?” Johnny said. There was a hint of sterness in his tone.

“What kind of question is that, John?” Jaehyun retorted.

“I’m just wondering.” Johnny took a sip of his whiskey before continuing. “If she hadn’t started drugs, who knows where she would be right now.”

“Are you blaming me?” Fury was starting to ignite within Jaehyun.

“I’m not?” Johnny asked. “But based on your reaction, I have a feeling you do regret what you did to her.”

Perhaps Johnny was right. The reason why Jaehyun still chooses to reminisce his days with you was because he blamed himself for what happened to you. But that’s not something he will admit, not even to his best friend.

Pill #3

This time it was different. Instead of Jaehyun living as the past Jaehyun, he couldn’t do anything but watch as his old self seat in front of the university dean - as if he was a bystander in his old life. He tried to catch the attention of the old Jaehyun, but it was as if he wasn’t even there.

“Do you know that this could get you kick out from the university?” The dean spoke with anger laced in his voice. “When did you even start?”

“5 months ago.” Jaehyun replied with a small voice.

“Look, I’m only giving you another chance because your father is a benefactor of this university.” The dean leaned in, emphasizing every word he said. “If I caught you slipping one more time, it’s over for your stay in the university.”

All Jaehyun did was watch the dean with furious eyes. He wanted to scream but he knew that he wouldn’t get anything good out of it. The dean’s warning went through one ear and out the other. He huffed before leaving the office. Anger rushed through every vein in his body.

Outside the office, you fiddled with your thumbs. The Johnny was beside you who busied himself by kicking rocks off the pavement. Your licked your extremely chapped lips. No amount of lip balm could smooth them away. It was starting to worry you; the whole fiasco of your life falling apart worried you. You wanted to quit, but you didn’t want to leave Jaehyun alone.

“How did it go?” You asked once you saw Jaehyun come out from the office.

“They’re giving me one last chance.” He replied. He took your hand in his and rubbed his thumb on the back of it. “It’s gonna be fine.”

“Dude, this is getting worse.” Johnny said quietly. He was geniunely concerned for the welfare of his two friends.

“Johnny, if you have nothing else better to do than blame me,” Jaehyun cocked his head in bubbling anger. “Then just fucking go away.”

Johnny clenched his jaw at Jaehyun. He knew better than fighting with Jaehyun since it could lead to more trouble. He trudged his feet away from the two of you.

“He was only trying trying to help.” You said, carefully.

“So, you’re on his fucking side now?” It was you he was cocking his head at.

“No,” You defended. “Of course not. Look, let’s just go home.”

The walk back to his dorm was quiet. It wasn’t filled with deep talks and laughter as it used to. It was filled with anxiety and trembling fingers. The cold air of Jaehyun’s room greeted your frail body.

“Jaehyun,” You called out to him. “I don’t wanna do this anymore.”

“What?” he turned around to face you. “What do you mean? You don’t want to see me again?”

“No! I do want to see you again.” You replied. “It’s- We have to quit, Jaehyun.”

Tears were forming in your eyes as you whispered the last sentence. You fear that he wouldn’t understand. You wanted so bad to say that it was his pain that caused this.

“We’re hurting people, Jae.” You whispered. “We’re about to hurt ourselves.”

“You don’t understand, Y/N.” Jaehyun said. “You don’t understand anything.”

“Jaehyun, trust me, I’m trying to understand you.” Your voice was starting to shake. “But, this is ruining us.”

“No, we’re not quitting.” Jaehyun said firmly. “This isn’t ruining who we are. You said you felt happy. Did you lie?”

The response he got was your first sob. This was the first time you sobbed in front of Jaehyun. You were vigorously shaking your head, trying to get him on the same page as you.

“I’m failing my classes, Jaehyun.” You held back a sob. “I’m losing who I am. I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore.”

“You’re still the Y/N I love.”

“You did this to me!” You exclaimed, your voice accompanied with your cries. “You did this to me, Jaehyun. I can’t do this anymore.”

“And now what? You’re gonna leave me?” Jaehyun’s eyes was starting to water themselves. “Okay. Go on. Leave me.”

“Why do you keep on doing this to me?” You were running out of energy to fight.

“What?”

“Everytime I try to help you out of this, you just turn the game against me.”

“Why the hell is everyone portraying me as the bad guy here?” Jaehyun’s tone turned louder. “It’s not my fault my parents fucking divorced and it made me fucking messed up!”

“Jaehyun-” He cut you off.

“You will never understand anything, Y/N.”

“Why do you act as if you’re the only one with all the problems here?” You tried to match the angry tone of Jaehyun, even though it was scratching your throat. “Do you even remember that you were the one who get me into drugs?”

“It’s not my fucking fault you were too much of a coward to resist, Y/N.”

His sentence broke you. All of the patience and the temper you held for him - in understandin him - vanished in a snap. Tears were falling like thunderstorms on your cheeks. Slamming the door behind you, you walked far away from Jaehyun’s dorm.

Watching from a safe distance, the present Jaehyun remembered this scene all too well. The betrayal he felt in his heart. He wanted so bad to run and get in between you and the old him. He wanted so bad to tell you that he was willing to quit.

With present Jaehyun watching you from a far, he saw that you bumped into Johnny near the campus.

“Fuck, Y/N.” Johnny held your wrists. “What the fuck happened?”

All you did was cry on his chest. Johnny tightened his grip around you as he let the front of his shirt be soaked with your angry tears. Jaehyun watched - his admiration for his best friend only blossomed. Somehow, he wished that it was Johnny you fell in love with.

“Will things ever be okay for us?” You whispered.

“It will.” Johnny answered. “I promise you, it will.”

He was willing to do lose his happiness for you. All he could do, however, was wish it was what the old him was thinking.

Pill #4

Just like the last time, Jaehyun could only watch. He could only watch as you tossed and turn in your bed, sobbing your eyes from the pain. Jaehyun wished you were crying because of him, but he’s entirely certain you weren’t.

You wish you listened to Johnny. The amount of times he held you and Jaehyun from returning to drugs. You felt magical, that was your argument. All your life, you wanted to feel something.

You laid in your bed, it was the only thing you could do for now. Your spine felt like it could snap into two whenever you attemp to sit or stand up. There was a crawling feeling behind your face and you wanted so bad to peel your face and scratch it off.

“Make it stop, oh my god, make it stop!”

All you could do was cry. Your whole body was in pain, it was burning, aching, pounding all the same time. Your tongue swirled around your mouth to find something moist. You pressed your fingertips on your cheeks again as the crawling sensation was getting worse. You were restless but all you wanted was to sleep. The pounding in your head worsened each breath you take.

All you did was cry. And all Jaehyun could do was watch in pain. You screamed and screamed, hoping someone outside your door would hear you. Two girls came bursting through your room door as they scurried to call 911.

“Oh my god, Y/N, what happened?” A girl who Jaehyun remembered as Nayeon asked you in panic.

“Kill me! Oh god, kill me!” You pleaded, your voice scratching.

A boy came and carried your heaving body outside the door.

This was a scene Jaehyun never saw. It was as if the pills was nothing more than just a punishment for abandoning you. He cursed at himself for ever thinking that he could save you.

There was a stabbing pain through Jaehyun’s chest. The area where his forearm meets his wrist had a piercing sensation. The world was closing in on Jaehyun’s body. And he let it.

Jaehyun knew what happens next. 30 years ago, he was admitted to the hospital for overdosing on drugs. He knew that you were staying on the floor beneath his. Yet, he did nothing. He didn’t check up on you, he didn’t contact your parents to find out if you were even alive or responding. Jaehyun had many regrets in his life, but he could never find one regret that he resents more than that one.

“Hey,” Jaehyun slowly entered Johnny’s office.

“Hey.” Johnny responded. The argument from last night was still lingering between the two man.

“Look, Johnny, I’m sorry.” Jaehyun started. “It’s just that what happened during that time in college was really hard to me.”

“I know, Jaehyun.” Johnny said. “I’m sorry I even brough Y/N up.”

“I appreciate your concern for me, John.” Jaehyun reassured. “It’s not your fault I couldn’t own up to my mistakes.”

“I just miss her, you know?” Johnny stared at the whiskey in front of him. “I wish she was here celebrating accomplishments with us.”

“I miss her too, buddy.” Jaehyun whispered. “It hurts not knowing where she is or if she’s even alive right now.”

“I remember going to arcades and flower field with her.”

Jaehyun could only nod and smile at his best friend. What happened back in college was something sensitive even between close friends. Jaehyun only stayed friends with a few people from college.

“I feel like we need let the memory of Y/N go.” Jaehyun spoke again, breaking into a sincere smile. “I don’t know if we’ll ever see her again but all I could do right now is pray that she’s happy and well.”

“You really think we can’t see her again?” Johnny’s demeanor showed remorse.

“I don’t think she’ll want to see me again, anyway.” He replied.

Pill #5

The eerie sound of a machine beeping filled Jaehyun’s ears. The first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was the horizontal lines of light in the ceiling. He squinted before looking around the room. A doctor clad in a white coat was besides the hospital bed.

“How are you feeling, Mr. Jung?” The doctor asked, shifting his eyes from Jaehyun and back to his clipboard.

“Uhm, I’m thirsty.” Jaehyun spoke. “And a bit groggy.”

“I’ll run a few test first before I could speak on your condition.” The doctor said. “For now, I’ll have someone come up with water. Please rest now.”

Jaehyun nodded. He laid his head back into the pillow, squinting his eyes from the light. Before the doctor could leave, he turned around and said, “This is your last chance, Mr. Jung.”

Jaehyun remained stagnant over the doctor’s sentence. Last chance at living? He knew that. He knew that he overdose and if he did it again, it would cost him his life. The doctor’s last words remained in his mind. He wasn’t sure if he remembers that happening years ago.

“Hey, buddy.” Johnny entered the room slowly.

“Hey.” Jaehyun’s eye lit up at the sight of his friend.

“How are you?” The look on Johnny’s face wasn’t something Jaehyun expected. A blurred red rim around his eyeballs and his eyelids looked swollen.

“Have you been crying?”

“Of course I am! I just received a message that you overdosed! What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I’m sorry for lashing out the last time.”

“It’s alright.” Johnny said. “I’d rather have you mad at me than you dead.”

“You’re the best, Johnny.” Jaehyun chuckled.

“Y/N is just under this floor.” Johnny said out of the blue. “Do you want to visit her?”

“No.” The answer was automatic - as if Jaehyun didn’t have to think before muttering an answer.

“I’m guessing things didn’t end well between the two of you?”

“It’s for the best.” Jaehyun revealed.

“Why the hell do you not want to visit her downstairs?”

I saw her suffer.

“I don’t know.” Jaehyun sighed. “I promise I’ll talk to her once I’m out of here.”

Jaehyun felt his eyelids became heavy. He laid back as the world spinned around him one last time.

Jaehyun was walking. A second ago, he remembered falling asleep in the hospital bed. The next thing he knew, he was with father, walking towards the exit of the hospital. As he walk through the hallways, he passed by the room you were assigned to. A doctor pushed her way into the door of the room. The gap made by her action gave Jaehyun a small glimpse of what was inside. Tubes and machines were attached your face. The brief glimpse failed to give Jaehyun a look if you were awake.

He turned away. Y/N wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.

Each step he took reminded him of something you said.

“I like the universe.” Step.

“I like you too.” Step.

“I want to live with you forever.” Step.

“Make it stop!” Step.

“Where the heaven are we?” Step.

Jaehyun glanced back at the hospital gate. His breathing deep but steady. The cold, winter breeze pushed back against his rigid body as he stared into the clear doors of the hospital. It was a battle; his legs telling him to run through the gates but his mind didn’t cooperate. A rational part of his brain told him to go back but he did the opposite, pivoting towards the parking lot where his dad was headed.

Jaehyun’s heart tightened, his eyes threatening to let the tears go. Finally, he realized why the hell he was reliving the past. All his life he wanted to know what happened to you. Now, here he is - outside the same hospital he last heard you were in. He was a few steps away from the answers. A summer image of you with the brightest smile flashed before him. He wanted to go back. His vision was starting to go black. With rapid breaths, he turned around. The black dots where getting larger but he fough through it. He blinked and swing his head, hoping it could stop the world was falling in front of him.

As he was about to push the gates open, the world turned dark.

Jaehyun couldn’t believe it. He had one shot of finding out and yet he screwed it up. He let out a painful groan on his pillow. He scurried back to the bathroom and messily searched for the orange cylinder.

Empty.

The chances were out.

“Fuck!” He gripped the roots of his hair in frustration.

Jaehyun leaned on the sink and took deep breathes. The pain was dormant for the longest time now, and then suddenly it erupted like hot lava. It burned all corners of his heart - even corners that belonged to Adelaine.

Jaehyun could only weep, as the aching hole in his heart stinged worse than before.

The river reflected the tall buildings of the city. A pink hue was starting to paint all over the wide skies. There is a great big world out there. He sighed as he reminisced his life. The laughter, the tears, the heartbreak - every single bit of what happened molded Jaehyun into the man that he is now. A man that new more than solving problems with bigger problems. It wasn’t easy cutting strings with stuff that made you feel limitless. But this is the real life - you are finite. No amount of liquor or grams of drugs could ever change that. There are definitely areas in Jaehyun’s life that he wished he could change. However, that would mean he never grew as a person. If Jaehyun could bring back one last thing before he returns to dust, it would be a chance to see you again. The age old question of where you are now was still unanswered. Some hoped you were alive, some decided to close that chapter of their lives completely. Jaehyun hovered the pen over the blank piece of paper.

Dear Y/N,

How are you? I hope life made you well. This is Jung Jaehyun. Do you remember the time you told me about why you decided to study physics? I hope you’re on your quest towards the answers to your questions. I am more than happy that the magnetic force of the earth helped me meet you. It’s not gonna be long until one of our bodies combust into nothing but stardust. And until then, I am eager to meet you again.

You met me at a happy point in my life. I was a promising student with a clear record. You were there during my peak and you were there when I collapsed. You know what? I don’t think I was happy I ever met you. If I didn’t know you, you wouldn’t have collapsed with me. Who knows where you would be if the addiction never happened. When you asked me if things were ever going to be okay for the both of us, I wish I never said yes. I wish I never promised you that things will get better because I am living in constant guilt that it only happened to me. Where are you now, Y/N?

I remember thinking to myself that I wanted to die before I turn 30. I joked about how I don’t have to worry about wrinkles because I really didn’t think I was gonna live beyond 25. But, the moment you told me you wanted to live with me forever - it made me think twice. You said you wanted to live with me forever - I don’t care if we’re lovers or friends - then, where are you now, Y/N?

Johnny, Taeyong, and Jungwoo misses you a lot. Why didn’t you come to the reunions? Did I hurt you that much? You should have come for them anyway. Johnny and Jungwoo still lives in the city. If you’d like, you can always visit them.

For all the things I’ve done, Y/N, I am so sorry. If I could turn back time once more, I would have done anything. In our next life, can you promise me that you’ll find me and tell me it’s alright? There’s still so much questions I cannot answer. My heart will always yearn for you.

What the hell happened to you? Where the heaven are you, Y/N?

Love, Jaehyun.

a/n: was this too messy??? anyway, feedback is always appreciated. if there are any plotholes or mistakes, pls let me know. i wrote this at the crack of dawn so. i hurt my wrist writing this fucking story lol i hope u liked it

#jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun au #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct au #nct angst #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun angst #nct scenarios #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun smut #jung yoonoh #nct jaehyun #nct jaehyun x reader

360 notes · View notes

endricus · 4 years ago

Text

Breakdown of the Miitopia for Nintendo Switch trailer (All changed things and new additions so far + Speculations)

(Note: I am not an actual game journalist I just love miitopia)

As soon as the trailer starts we see updated graphics, with new lighting and better FPS + graphics in general. In this scene they appear to be inside of the Bigg Forest.

In this image we see that yes - Nintendo is finally giving an actual use to the Mii Maker to import miis to the Nintendo Switch. It is still not confirmed as of this time whether you can import miis from Miitopia 3DS (Although I'd assume so...)

Now here we are introduced to a new feature: Makeup! It shows 7 different options (Including a mysterious "Other) and a 0/100 counter above the mii's head. This appears to be some sort of limit as to how many layers of makeup can be applied to one mii.

In the "Eyes" category it shows various patterns for various shading on your eyes. It also appears that if you scroll down there are various eyelids aswell.

In the "Eyelashes" category we can see well, various eyelashes! There also seem to be polygon shaped eyelashes to be scrolled down to for some reason...

In the "Lipstick" category we can now see that you can finally layer it below your mouth! At this point I'm suspecting the polygons are likely placeholders for future additions.

Here we can see that yes - The color pallette is making a return (At least for lipstick)!

And here we can see that they've added far more eyebrows! And these ones actually seem near finished with no placeholders in sight.

Here we see another major new feature, wigs! It looks like we can go psycho with making our miis look like anime protagonists now!

Here it looks like you can change the bang type too, as while swapping through the styles it didn't change with the main hair. You can also add 2 color fades now!

(I can't post anymore images so I'll go by timestamp)

0:40 - To the left there appear to be scars on the right eye of obne the mii's faces. To the right the purple haired girl also appears to have some sort of tear shaped marking under the same eye, decals or the "other" mentioned earlier perhaps? We also see an extremely white (I mean pure chalk white) person to the furthermost right, hinting at more skin colors.

1:07 - A horse appears! It's shown later that you can sleep in the same stable as it aswell as change it's appearance! It's also shown dealing splash damage to multiple enemies.

1:18 - There appears to be some sort of celebration. It is currently unknown what type of event it is or if they're adding new events.

1:19 - The mii is shown running with the horse along the beach - Do we get more cutscenes or possibly "Flashbacks" like in Tomodatchi Life?

Well that's the end of my analysis, let me know if I missed anything. I'll update on this blog as time goes on and more and more information gets released, and I'll compare this version against the 3DS version at some point!

Heres the Nintendo trailer used as reference:

youtube

#nintendo #nintendo switch #miitopia #miitomo #video games #game #gamerlife #analysis #nintendo trailer #trailer breakdown #nintendo 3ds #nintendo 3d xl #nintendo direct #nintendo hype #hype #mario hype #hypetrain #hype train

31 notes · View notes

cranetreegang · 3 years ago

Text

OC Witcher Fanfic: Part 3: Let's See What You're Made Of

A/N: First fight scene!! I think fight scenes are probs one of my weaker points in writing, so it took soooo long to write it. I'm very happy with how it turned out though. As always, let me know what you think! I love getting feedback!

Summary: Lanas and Nis track down the cyclops. Lanas worries that Nis will be a hinderance to him. Will Nis prove him wrong, or will she get them both killed?

Word Count: ~3,000

Warnings: Graphic violence, blood, guts... I mean they trying to kill a cyclops.

Read Part 1 and Part 2 Here!

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

Lanas wasn’t lying when he said at first light. He had Nis on her horse before the sun even had a chance to rise. She slumped in her saddle, swaying from side to side, and he was doing the same. He didn’t wake her up to take over watch last night, so he barely slept. His tiredness didn't stop him from thinking over how best to handle this cyclops though.

Any wrong move would mean death. Hers more than his. He didn't want her to get in his way. He also knew she was too stubborn and wouldn't stand aside to let him take care of it. His lips pursed as he thought over the upcoming fight. He had three fire bombs and a handful of bolts left from dealing with the spriggan. That wouldn't be enough to take this monstrosity down though. Even with his ogroid oil, cyclopses were known to withstand the most grievous of wounds before dying.

Distance. That was the best strategy for orgoids. It's powerful arms and earth-shattering stomps would make close quarter combat a challenge. One misstep would mean being pulverized into dust. Perhaps Nis wouldn't be useless after all. That was if she was as good with a bow as she claimed to be. If she could keep the cyclops distracted long enough for him to land a few vital hits, then they both might walk out of this unscathed. If she could land her shots, and if the cyclops didn't corner her.

Lanas frowned. There was too much uncertainty and it all surrounded Nis. He hadn't even gotten to the idea of her panicking if the cyclops made any move towards her. A mental image of an arrow landing in his back came to the forefront of his mind.

"Cyclopses aren't like rabbits." Lanas said seemingly out of the blue.

Nis was in the middle of braiding her auburn hair out of her face. She paused for a moment to take in what he just said.

She raised one of her dark brows. "Really?" Her tone was full of mock surprise. "That's not what I've been told. But, I suppose you're the expert on matters such as these."

"This isn't time for jokes, Nis." Lanas growled.

“You’re the one talking about cyclopses and rabbits.” She smirked.

His upper lip curled for a moment before settling. He gripped his reins tighter as he continued, "One hit of a cyclops will kill you."

"Well, that certainly wouldn't be good." Nis chuckled as she finished tying back her hair into a ponytail. "What do you suggest, to avoid such unpleasant things. Like death, or dismemberment. I much like the idea of not being in a cyclops' stomach today."

"Keep your distance. As long as you stay out of its reach you'll be fine." Lanas stopped himself from adding, 'and don't shoot me in the back.'

Nis nodded with a far away gaze. "And, what will you be doing?"

"Killing it."

Nis let out a loud laugh before stifling the abrupt noise due to Lanas' harsh glare. "Oh, Lanny. You say it's not time for jokes, yet here you are. 'Killing it.' Ha! I suppose that's a decent enough plan. I'll keep my distance and you'll kill it. Simple as hunting rabbits."

Lanas sent Horse into a canter to get ahead of Nis. If she wanted to be slaughtered, then so be it. She wasn't his concern or problem anymore. He could get the crowns off her corpse.

Nis caught up to him with an amused grin plastered on her freckled, worry-free face.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to constantly anger you. I'll follow your lead, fret not my dearest Lanny." Nis said, her stormy eyes giving away her seriousness.

Lanas glanced towards her. "You better. Mistakes could cost us both our lives." He huffed.

"And we surely wouldn't want that." She replied.

Lanas turned his attention to their surroundings, while continuing contemplating different strategies that wouldn't get him killed. Nis was too much of a risk for him to rely on. A fact which annoyed him more than anything else. This was why he preferred to work alone.

He looked to Nis idly flicking through her arrows. A smile tugged on her vermillion colored lips as she hummed some out of key tune he wasn’t familiar with. She looked akin to a noble on a fox hunt more so than a monster hunt. Lanas realized she wasn’t worried because she had no idea how dangerous this was. The very idea made him frustrated. She would learn soon enough, he thought.

It wasn’t until they were halfway to Dorian when Lanas held up his hand to stop them. A faint hint of blood hung in the air. The scent was nearly masked by the aroma of the woodlands. His hair stood on end from the utter silence. He scanned around them until his eyes settled on the branches nearby. Horse rocked underneath Lanas with a heavy snort. He patted Horse's neck with a hush.

"It's near." He informed her as he slid off his saddle. Nis scanned around trying to find where the beast was, but all she saw were dense trees. With a confused sigh, she dismounted Pip.

Lanas rummaged in his saddle bags for a few moments while Nis tied their horses to a slender tree trunk. He stuffed various potions into his bandolier and attached the fire bombs on his side. He hooked a handheld crossbow onto his belt and drew the silver sword from his back. He treated the blade with his last vial of ogroid oil. The gentle smell of Ginatia wafted into the air.

"What's that?" Nis asked as she leaned over his shoulder.

He glances at her then stalked into the forest.

Nis followed behind him with her bow drawn and an arrow nocked. "How do you know it's here? I don't see it anywhere?" She asked.

"Branches are broken up high." He pointed above them and she looked up in awe. She finally saw the twisted and snapped branches above them, but also scattered at their feet. "You'd also hear it before you see it."

"Mhm. I mean, of course. Obviously." She hummed.

Lanas tracked the great beast's movements further into the woods. He managed to find a fresh set of tracks to follow. His senses were on high alert and body eager for the fight to come.

They didn't have to go too deep into the forest before a putrid odor assaulted him. The bear medallion vibrated against his chest. He raised his fist and they knelt down behind some brush.

There, in front of them, they could make out the slouched form of the cyclops. Even sitting, Nis estimated the beast to be at least double, maybe triple, the height of Lanas. Its long black hair clung to its rippling back. Nis was intrigued to see the cyclops wearing a tattered loincloth with a leather belt carrying various objects; like an oversized barrel it had fashioned into a mug. They could hear the sounds of flesh being ripped apart and bones snapping in its mouth as it feasted.

Lanas turned to face Nis with a serious expression. "You will do as I say. Keep your distance and don't get in my way." He paused then added, "Don't shoot me in the back. Please."

She nodded. "Got it."

Lanas spared her a final glance, "Stick to the plan. Distance. Distract. Dodge. I'll do the rest."

He didn't wait for her response as he began making his way into the flattened clearing. Trees had been ruthlessly ripped out or snapped clean in half. The giant cyclops huddled in the center of the destruction. The witcher carefully stepped over and between the shattered limbs littering the soft earth. Lanas could sense Nis somewhere behind him, laying in wait. The cyclops was too distracted eating its latest prey to even notice their approach. The medallion hummed stronger with each step. He unsheathed his sword and took a calm, deep breath through his nose.

Lanas plunged straight into the monster's back, aiming for the beast's heart. The sword couldn't pierce far into the creature's back before being stopped by the cyclops' rib. Lanas cursed immediately for missing his mark. The cyclops wailed in surprised anguish, its nearly devoured deer fell from its grip. He ripped his sword from the iron-like flesh then dove away as the cyclops' mighty fist crashed where he had just stood.

The two hurried to their feet. The cyclops cast its shadow over the witcher, forcing him to look up. Lanas prepared to make another roll when an arrow flew straight into the beast's eye. The cyclops stumbled back. Its hands wildly flailing around.

Lanas used the momentary distraction to slice at the monster's legs. He whirled himself in-between the stomping feet to give the monster deep slashes into the back of its knees.

The cyclops whipped itself around to backhand Lanas away like an annoying bug. He had been able to block the brunt of the attack with his forearms, but he was still sent flying away. The witcher managed to flip himself back to his feet and stop himself from tumbling further across the sharp, broken timber. Several more arrows found their mark into the creature's cheek, ear, and neck. The power from the arrow strikes were enough to keep the beast off balance. The cyclops tried in vain to block the arrows coming from the tree line by raising its tree trunk of an arm to cover its face. Nis' arrows lined its exposed forearm instead.

With the cyclops trying to fend off her attacks, Lanas reached for his crossbow. His hand hovered over it as he took in the dead trees around the cyclops. Instead of the crossbow, he grabbed a fire bomb to throw at the creature's feet. The dried out trees immediately caught then set the beast's clothed calves aflame. It roared out in rage. Its bleeding eye landed on Lanas and figured he was the source of its pain.

The cyclops charged towards the witcher, who threw himself out of the way. He hopped to his feet to begin dancing away from the furious cyclops' chaotic blows. Lanas kept ducking below each wild swing with impressive timing. The ground shook with each step the beast took, making Lanas concentrate on his footwork to avoid tripping on the debris. Embers were flying in the air, spreading the flames. He just needed an opening to land another strike against the brute.

Nis' arrows were no longer stunning the creature and seemed to only be making it angrier. She tried to get some sort of command from Lanas on what to do, but he was struggling to maintain distance.

Lanas' foot landed on a limb that snapped. His foot, unexpectedly, slipped more than he could anticipate. He twisted his body enough to avoid most of the swinging uppercut from the cyclops. Its elbow collided into Lanas' back in a glancing hit. His body was swept across the clearing. He landed face first with an audible grunt. The cyclops pounded its chest while letting out a mighty roar of triumph. Nis sprinted from her cover towards Lanas.

"Lanas! You alright?" She kept her attention on the cyclops while she dragged him by the arm to his feet.

"What are you doing?!" He shoved her away with an annoyed hiss. Pain shot from his back at the quick motion. He winced and nearly fell back down.

She rolled her eyes then stood in front of him. "I'll keep it distracted. Find a way to kill it. You know. The plan." She sent an arrow flying right into the beast's throat. The cyclops ripped the arrow from its thick hide then slammed the ground in rage.

With the attention on her, she sprinted away from Lanas. Her nimble fingers nocked three arrows as she led the cyclops away. With the pressure off of him, Lanas downed an entire vial of Swallow and felt immediate relief. When the cyclops began to charge Nis, she stopped where she was and drew her bow back.

Lanas rushed behind the charging cyclops with the unquestionable sense of dread threatening to come over him. Nis needed to move, or she'd die. He cursed his luck that she chose now, of all times, to freeze. He pushed himself even harder to try and stop the cyclops in time. He pushed himself past the pain. He had to. But he wasn't close enough. He wasn't fast enough. The cyclops had beat him to the naïve wannabe.

"Nis!" He shouted.

Nis hadn't even moved an inch. She took a sure deep breath as the cyclops raised both of its arms to smash her into the ground. That's when she released the arrows. The first arrow found its way into the cyclops' forehead. The second arrow lodged itself into the monster's swollen eye, making the cyclops totally blind. The last arrow landed where the bridge of the cyclops' nose should've been. But the sudden attack didn't stop the cyclops from finishing its movement to smash her.

Before it could pulverize her, she jumped backwards far enough for the creature to slam the ground instead. A puff of dirt and rocks shot into the air from where she had just been. She quickly hopped onto the cyclops' forearm while she readied another arrow. The cyclops tried to shake her off, but she already anticipated this. She let the momentum of its flailing take her away from the cyclops while also landing another painful shot into the cyclops' useless eye. The beast moaned and slammed the ground repeatedly in pain.

All of this happened quicker than Lanas could process. He watched Nis, unharmed, getting away from the cyclops. He stopped where he was and took the beast's tantrum as an opportunity to throw another fire bomb. The creature, charred from the previous one, caught even faster. Burnt flesh and wood filled the smoky air. Lanas rushed behind the cyclops to finish slicing through its flaming charred leg. The monster cried out then fell to its knee with a guttural groan.

Lanas climbed up its back and jumped into the air. He aimed his sword directly into the top of the beast's head. His sword impaled through the cyclops' skull and all the way through its throat.

A wet roar briefly spilled from the creature's mouth before blood consumed its cries. Lanas removed his sword and hopped off its back. The cyclops teetered left to right before collapsing on its side. The ground quivered as the cyclops choked out its last breath. Then silence consumed the woods once more, save for the ravenous flames decorating the already destroyed clearing.

Nis approached the beast with an arrow pointed directly into the creature's heart. "Is it dead?" She asked.

Lanas kicked its foot then sheathed his sword. "It's dead."

Nis let out a relieved sigh as she withdrew her bowstring. She came closer to Lanas with a concerned frown. Her eyes scanned over his obviously injured form. "Looks like the beast got one on you," she quipped as she sheathed her bow.

"I'll be fine." He huffed. He circled around the dead creature before deciding there would be plenty for him to harvest.

Nis watched him with one raised brow as she was ripping her arrows out. He brought out a vial to extract the drool billowing out from its gaping jaw. He then reached into its warm, damp mouth and pulled out its tongue. He examined the appendage, and decided it would be good enough. In one quick slice, the tongue was freed and he stuffed it into his pack.

"That's disgusting." Nis commented.

"Help me get its hair." Lanas ordered.

Nis gave a mock salute as she pulled out her dagger.

She helped him gather clumps of hair, several vials of blood, a liver, and a heart from the cyclops. The fire surrounding them had snuffed itself out, leaving them in a cloud of smoke and ash.

Nis looked over the blood covering her armor with her nose scrunched. "This'll take forever to get out, you know." She sighed.

"Better get used to it if you're gonna make a habit of monster hunting." Lanas gruffly replied. He knelt over his pack to organize his fresh loot.

Nis gave a sharp laugh then shrugged. "I suppose. Especially if I stick with you."

Lanas paused then looked up to her. "Once you've given me my coin, we're done here."

Nis bit her lip which turned into a sheepish smile. "Well, what if I had another job for you."

Lanas grunted as he slung on his pack. "No." He turned on his heel to begin the walk back towards their horses.

Nis matched his stride after a short jog. "I don't think you quite understand. I didn't really need your help with the cyclops. I need your help with something else. Something more dire."

"Don't care." Lanas replied, his gaze dead set in front of him.

"Don't care?! You don't even know what it is. Besides, I believe I just proved to be more than capable of helping you." She glared at Lanas. She took a breath then said, "Just hear what I have to say first. Then, if you still want to refuse the job, you can."

Lanas stopped walking and threw his loaded pack on the ground. He looked over Nis with fresh eyes.

Her skill in that fight, no human could've possibly pulled off. He highly doubted even an Scoia'tael archer could've done what she did. No... there was something wrong. He hadn't been able to figure out what it was that made him on edge. Perhaps, deep down, he hadn't wanted to look any further into it. Not with the amount of crowns she was paying him. But as he stared at the woman before him, the gut feeling returned.

Nis hadn't the time to react to him drawing his sword before she felt the tip of the silver blade pressed into her neck.

"What are you?"

#the witcher 3 #witcher fanfiction #witcher fandom #witcher 3 #the witcher #witcher oc #original character #oc #short story #fanfiction #fanfic #3 wild hunt #tw3 #writing #writers

2 notes · View notes

kelseywood94 · 4 years ago

Text

REFINE POSTER 3 [GMS BRIEF]

For my third poster design, I tried a new printing technique and I absolutely loved it. I love trying out new hands-on techniques and I will use this again and hopefully master it!

Cyanotype

Cyanotype is a printing process used in photography and creates a cyan-blue print. This process has been most popularly used since its creation in 1842 by engineers and a lot of cyanotype printing can be known as 'blue prints'. It is a process that uses a mix of chemicals to copy drawings or in our case, create images using everyday objects. The process is photo-sensitive and the application of the chemicals to a porous surface, allowed to dry in the dark and then exposed to UV light when ready to create your copied image as a contact print.

In printmaking, plants are typically used in this type of printing however you can use any solid object, pressed onto the sensitized paper usually with a sheet of glass over the top.

- An example of a cyanotype print using a fern leaf

When I started, I tried a Cyanotype on a small piece of canvas with some every day objects and seeds to see if I could create a nice effect using plants and seeds. I loved the effect created however the canvas continued to develop and the image was soon lost.

For my cyanotype experiments I used letters I had previously made for this project and placed them on paper I had sensitised with a chemical solution.

I arranged the letters and allowed them sit in sunlight for 30 mins. I had sesnsitised some recycled white paper as I wanted a grainier texture to the image however in the final prints, the recycled nature of the paper caused the ink to gather in spots and not dry fully. At first i wasn’t happy with this however in the end it worked out.

My first print came out okay - too much ink as mentioned but I did enjoy that the pencil strokes had even come through on the image.

I tried again with another formation, this time arranging my letters at random on the paper.

I used a sheet of glass on each print and left under the window. This time for 40 minutes and this page I sat in the sun for a couple of minutes before I out the letters on.

I liked this version a lot as again, you can really see the different colours coming through from the different pencils in the rendering. The gathered ink on the recycled paper wasn’t great though.

On my third attempt, I changed the letters around again.

And my print came out like this:

I had added extra shapes but these were not coloured in and you can see this clearly on the print so I didn’t like this as much as the other two. I chose my favourite image and used that for my poster design.

Using photoshop, I tuned the image a little, I wanted to pull through some greens to maintain the aloe feel. I had attempted to tone the prints with tea however this washed away my entire design so definitely something to play with in future.

I am so happy with this design - it has become the front of my final design solution. I then played around with fonts to use to go along with this and the back side of my poster can be seen below, using a typewriter style font to enhance the imperfect print style qualities. I brought some graphic qualities from the front onto the back of the poster to make it more dynamic and brought my font in black.

On reflection, I really enjoyed this process and would use it again. I spent a good amount of time looking for fonts that could match up with the design (seen below) and I am happy I settled with this one. If I were to do it again, I would perhaps try layering cyanotype on top of each to see how that would work or I would move the letters about halfway through processing time.

#GMS_HNCGD1 #TYPEFACEDESIGN #TYPESPECIMEN #POSTERDEISGN

5 notes · View notes

putflowersinmyhair-callmepretty · 4 years ago

Text

The fate of a nun (Finan x OFC); part 2

GENERAL A/N: Hi there!

This story is my first attempt to write a fanfiction. English is not my first language, so feel free to let me know how to improve my writing/language skills 😊 I will try and post a chapter per week, let’s see how it goes! The story takes place in season 3 and you will notice that I have used some of the sequences and dialogues from the tv series, changing them to include my OC. I did try not to be too colloquial and informal with my writing -giving the time of the story- but I preferred to make it more enjoyable than realistic, same goes for Finan’s accent. I’m nervous and excited to share my work, hope you enjoy! Bacini, Cate.

A/N: Hi sweeties! I have received so much love already, this is really the best fandom ever! I hope you enjoy this character, you’ll be familiar with many parts and hopefully amused by Aoife’s twist on them, I do love her dearly. Also, I have decided to shorten the chapters cause they where way to long! Bacetti, Cate!

Summary: The life of the young novice Aoife completely changes when the Lady of Mercia arrives to the Abbey of Wincelcumb. Oaths, battles and love will turn her in a warrior.

General warnings: Violence, Blood, Strong Language, Smut, Fluff, Graphic description of violence

Chapter’s warning: Not really, blood maybe?

Words: 2213

Chapter One.

Chapter Two: Ale and Princes

There was no sign of nuns through the corridors while she run down the stairs, weapons tinkling under the new dress and cloak Aethelflaed had gifted her.She had washed herself from the dirt and the blood of the battle and was now looking like a lady. A tired, sad lady. Aethelflaed was waiting outside with the warriors, all of them already on the back of their mounts; in her left hand, the Lady was holding the bridles of Aoife’s horse. “You are a strange nun” Uthred stated “why do you have weapons and a horse?” “They were gifted to me years ago.” Aoife simply answered, jumping easily on her mount and patting her on the neck. “They are expensive gift.” the other Dane noticed, and she turned to shoot him a weak smile. “Someone really cared for me.”

Aylesbury, Mercia

They arrived at Aylesbury when the sun was setting, and Aoife thanked God when the route opened in front of them and, among the white of the snow, appeared the stone walls of Aylesbury. They rode among the tents of the soldiers and, at the doors, they were welcomed by a line of guards, shields and spears pointed in their direction. Behind them stood the tallest and scariest man Aoife had ever seen, who pulled out his sword when they came closer. Next to him, Aoife saw a somehow attractive man, with dirty blonde hair and an unripe face; she guided her horse closer to Finan’s, feeling unsafe under his gaze. “That’s Aethelred. Lady Aethelflaed’s husband” Finan told her, noticing who her eyes were following. It was all clear now, Aethelflaed have told her stories about the weasel that her husband was. He was the one threatening her friend and Lady’s life. Once again Finan had to stop her from throwing her dagger at someone. “You need to stop being so impetuous.” He snorted with a half-smile “You will put us all in great danger sooner than later.” She grinned “He would not be missed.” “He is a Lord.” Finan insisted “Stay nice and quiet, would you?” They watched in silence Uthred and Aethelflaed discussing with that mountain of a man and Aethelred, probably explaining the situation. Aoife couldn’t really hear what they were saying, but she didn’t care. She had never seen the snow outside of the property of the Abbey and it was nice how soft it looked over the walls of the fortress. She didn’t notice Finan watching her, smiling at her amazement; and he didn’t notice Sithric and Osferth staring at him, amused. Finan was known and, made fun of, for quickly fall in love with women and that pretty warrior nun was no exception, but Osferth was worried for the young lady’s feelings; Finan was also one to love you during the course of one night and forget about you the morning after. However, Aoife was innocent but no fool, and the monk was sure enough that she would reject his attempts. Or at least he hoped so.

It was decided that the outlaw Uthred and his companions could pass, but they had to leave their weapons outside. Finan tried to protest, but his words were ignored by the Lord, while his guard repeated the order slower, as to mock Finan’s intelligence. Guards were sent to collect their weapons and Aoife didn’t like the way her guard was watching her as a prey. “You done?” she asked harshly when his eyes fell on the modest neckline of her dress. He quickly left her side with a small bow and behind her back she heard the Dane, whose name was Sithric she had discovered, laughing. “You have a temper, nun” and he walked with her through the gates.

They were left as enemies outside the hall, Aethelflaed nice enough to choose to stay with them and not to feast with her family. Aoife, at her side, soon found out that she wasn’t the only one with a temper problem; Finan, who she was sure had a desire to die, not only stood his ground to the huge warrior, but also made fun of his orders. The men did not seem intimidated, though; he smiled menacingly to the Irishman and patted him on the chest. “Steapa!” Uthred intervened “Food and ale would be appreciated.” The warrior agreed and turned to enter the hall. “And Steapa! Good food!” Finan added, under the amused looks of his companions “Meat! And lots of ale.” Uthred pushed him playfully “He will have your head one day.” “He just has to try.”

Under the supervision of Steapa himself, the diverse group of outlaws and ladies were drinking and eating at the alehouse. Aoife had never drunk ale before and she was quite enjoying the sweet and earthy taste of the beverage that she was gulping down. “You should slow down.” Osferth suggested, over the chatter of the others “It is not the strongest, but it will confuse your thoughts.” She smiled sweetly “Thank you, Brother.” She had just discovered that Osferth was a bastard child of Alfred and she did know how it felt like to be an unwanted consequence of illicit love. She decided that he deserved to know that he was not alone and that there was nothing to be ashamed of. “Osferth” she called softly, and the monk turned to her with a smile “I just wanted you to know that I too am the bastard of a Lord and a maid. You have nothing to be ashamed of. You have claimed a family of your own. A family of bad smelling, brutish men, sure, but still a family.” The monk smiled widely and squeezed lightly her hand “I sure do. Thank you.” “That was very sweet.” a voice whispered in her hear. She turned around and almost brushed the tip of her nose on Finan’s. The man was sitting very close to her; she could smell the ale in his breath, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He was much taller than her, and he had dropped his head on his close fist to look at her. His eyes were not hungry, but curious and perhaps even sweet. He was so unbelievably handsome that she found herself at loss of words. She didn’t have to worry however, because who she assumed was a young Lord approached Steapa telling that an approximation to a Witan had been gathered and they were required. None of them knew what an approximation to a Witan was but they all emptied their cups and quickly followed Steapa inside the hall. It was a large room, warmed by a fire that burnt right in the centre. The floor was made of wood, the wall of stones. Aethelred was sprawled on his throne, at his left stood a young man and, against the walls the men of the Witan, priests and lords in their heavy cloaks, watching them enter the room with stern faces. Not a warm welcome. She didn’t need Aethelred’s comment to notice the absence of King Alfred; she had never met him, but she had heard great stories about him, and closing her eyes she could create an image of what it should look like. She was disappointed by his absence. “I am here in place of the King. I’m here to speak for the King.” the young boy stated, and Aoife could easily assume that he was Aethelflaed’s younger brother, Edward, the atheling of Wessex. Weirdly, all Aoife could think of was that he looked something like Osferth. Aethelflaed was invited by her husband to say what she had come to say. The men of the Witan received with suspicious her accusations of Haesten, who was a declared ally of Wessex. When the Lady explained how Haesten had threatened her life and Uthred had saved her, the one questioning her was her own husband. “I am at a loss, how is it that Uthred knew of this danger? How is it that he knew exactly where to find you?” “An irrelevant question.” Aethelflaed commented coldly; Finan and Aoife made eye contact and they had to look away to not burst laughing. A man of the Witan, old and unpleasant to the eye and the ear, supported Aethelred’s suspects with impossible stories of Uthred’s betrayal, about him planning Aethelflaed’s killing with Haesten, all to earn her trust and get once again close to King Alfred. It was such a fool story that Aoife couldn’t imagine anyone believing it. She couldn’t be more wrong. “A spy?” Aethelred insisted. “An assassin, even.” the man replied. Neither her nor Finan were smiling anymore, it wasn’t going as expected and Uthred’s patience was visibly running thin. “Should have expected nothing different.” he said, his eyes rolling in exasperation. Surprisingly, in the defence of the outlaw, Aethelflaed was joined by her brother. “Seems rather grand strategy, Lord Aethelred” he stated, turning to the Lord, “and for what?” “It’s here, among us.” the young lord, the one that had guided them to the hall, answered. “And under guard.” the atheling replied bluntly, “Then let us get to the truth of the matter.” an imperious voice resounded throughout the room. King Alfred had entered the room, and, despite his sickly appearance, Aoife could feel the power he exuded. He was surely a man of strong, uncompromising mind and where he lacked with physical strength, he more than compensated with great presence and spirit.

Uthred had then explained his intention to the King; in exchange of him saving Aethelflaed, he asked for one thousand men to attack Beamfleot and defeat Haesten. He was clever enough to point out that the fall of Beamfleot and Haesten would mean a great loss for the Dane army and consequently ensure peace in Mercia and Wessex, for a while at least. Prince Edward spoke in favour of the agreement, but Alfred, supported by the men of the Witan, decided not to trust the outlaw and declined his request. He then invited the Dane to leave as the free man he was in Mercia, but he would remain an outlaw of Wessex.

***

The group found itself once again sat around a table outside the alehouse. They weren’t pleased by the outcome of the Witan. For what Aoife could understand, it was crucial to reclaim the Dane seer, Skade. It had something to do with a curse she had casted on Uthred and that was apparently putting them all in great danger. Aoife was no one to discharge others’ beliefs; on the contrary it made her appreciate Uthred more. He had saved Aethelflaed despite the danger that his choice entailed. She was quite surprised by how much she was enjoying the warriors’ company; they were kinder that she expected and, usually, it was a pleasure to spend time with them. That moment was the exception, but she could not blame them for being quiet and angry. They had been left without hope nor plans; and even if she was confident that they would soon find a way to reclaim the witch, she understood their fears. She was the first to notice the priests approaching, behind them came Prince Edward. He sat down next to his sister, Aoife on his other side. He shot her a questioning look and she gracefully bowed her head; but it was clear that he had more urgent issues to address. Osferth, at Aoife’s other side, excused himself and left before she could even turn around; it was clear the situation was paining him greatly. Words of curtesy were exchange between the people; Aoife, who didn’t know neither the priests nor the prince, sat in silence. She could not help but laugh, however, when the priest, who had taken Osferth place next to her, kindly stated that he couldn’t waste his prayers for Finan, being that he already belonged to the devil. The Irishman’s eyes moved from the priest to Aoife, and a corner of his mouth curved upwards in a smile, hidden by his bushy beard. “Could well be right.” he admitted. The other priest urged to get to the point, considering the dangerous position the prince had put himself in; the statement caught the attention of the entire table. The first priest asked them all to appear uninterested, for the safety of the presents, and, as strange as it sounded, a heavy silence fell on the group. “How… how many men does Haesten have?” Edward finally asked. Aoife watched hope return on Uthred and Aethelflaed’s faces. “Maybe as many as one thousand.” Uthred answered. “And a fortress.” the prince recollected. “Beamfleot.” Edward asked how Uthred could be sure to defeat him when it seemed impossible to do. Uthred pondered his words, then answered calmly that a siege would require the sacrifice of three thousand souls; Haesten, however, wouldn’t resisted the opportunity to kill him and would follow him outside. Fighting on open ground would increase their chances of winning. Prince Edward took his time to think about it, listening patiently to the warriors’ advices. He then decided, with a proud smile on his young face, to grant Uthred five hundred men. He swore to be there, the day of the attack, hidden in the wood with his army of half a thousand men.

Aoife hand run on the blade of her sword.

Chapter Three.

40 notes · View notes