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viloxity · 7 months ago

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Fluctuating Skies (Part 2 of 2) -- Yandere! Sung Jinwoo x Female Reader

Part 1

Synopsis: The scenario where the Monarchs rule Earth and the Shadow Monarch finds you in the New World A/N: it's finally here! thank you so much for the support on the previous part, i hope this lives up to expectation! reblogs and comments especially motivate me so let me know your thoughts <3 enjoy!

WC: 7.5k (oops)

Waking up to soft rays of light twinkling through cracks in the walls did not feel as invigorating as it should’ve been.

You slowly raised a hand to unwrap the blankets around you, stopping as yesterday’s events flashed through your mind. How could you even describe it? His behavior was becoming progressively uncanny and the foreboding that he would only get worse stuck with you. You felt like you were drowning, suddenly, weary eyes blinking to find yourself underwater in the middle of an endless ocean. You were surrounded by blue, as if you put on filtered sunglasses and now your world was the singularity of a color that reflected the same shade of the sky. Despite your circulatory system’s losing battle as the deep blue engulfed your trachea, you felt a sense of tranquility. Under the sky’s watchful gaze and the water’s gentle hands, you were protected. No longer did you have to suffer from the wars, the loss, the pain; you were free. Free to forget, free to explore, and free to experience.

You spent your time rejoicing under the guise that trepidation was a falsehood and forgetting that nothing was permanent because time waits for no one.

By the time you discerned the forgotten unpleasantry known as angst that did not belong in your Better World, it was too late.

You did not notice the inky black tendrils that were wrapping around your free-floating form.

You tried to swim away, to fight back, but they were relentless in caging you. The shadowy cage was reminiscent of a black tomb that fixated your view behind pole-like structures and entrapped you within something inescapable.

You distantly spotted a single immensely darkened creature as it swirled at the lower depths of the sea. The unknown entity eyed you hungrily from beyond the blackened bars, swimming patiently as you began to register once more the water bursting down your esophagus and into your lungs. You grabbed the bars with all your might and pulled, realizing too late that it only hastened your submerging. You were sinking deeper, closer to the unknown and closer to a fate that you would no longer be in control of. At last—before you buried the last of your desires—you screamed, attempting to curse out that disgusting monstrosity that spectated your descent to darkness; the water engulfed you, then, happy to oblige to your acceptance of asphyxiation.

The moment the light faded, your eyes shot wide open as your hands quickly moved away from clutching your throat. You gasped for breath, uncontrollably coughing as you wildly looked around. Your eyes finally settled on the streams of light pouring from the window, the rush of blood flowing past your ears beginning to fade. You then counted each beat of your heart, the tallying of each thump dissolving your heightened senses as you drifted under the threshold.

You hadn’t realized the moment you fell back asleep.

Gradually, as each night brought misery the second your eyes closed, you found yourself struggling to get a wink of sleep. The crevices of your mind were so desolate, so dolorous, that you shuddered at the mere notion of the night blanketing you. Each dream was similar, with some darkened figure watching over you like a god spectating their worshippers—never forwardly reacting, and never intervening. At the end of every scenario, you eerily felt that the entity delighted in your cycle of despair as previously neutral movements transitioned into fervent, animated motions. If it appeared like a shadowy humanoid, they would lean down and smile as you inevitably drifted towards them. In your most recent dream, it resembled a piranha that eagerly circled you as it waited to devour your impending despondence. Every single time, you remembered the creature, its face, its actions, and your anguish.

It had been a few days since your first meeting with Jinwoo, simultaneously marking the first day you began to fear the dark.

The darkness was another mask the sky used—a different side on the same coin of the marvelous bright blue you woke to. If the bright sky told you it was a beginning, the blackened night represented an end. Every day was unique; the beginning and end were never the same, nor did they repeat. A new day was a new beginning, while a new end was a new conclusion. In a society brimming with devastation, people tended to characterize ‘the end’ in this way—as a sum of its parts. This was a consequence, survivors learned, because it meant you neglected the substantiality of an imperfect world and became the first sacrifice as a method of fidelity to the strongest in the realm. The totality of the ending was the truth, because the whole is always greater than the sum of its parts in the New World.

You stopped looking at the other side of the coin because it was never meant for you. The strongest controlled the night sky and you had an inkling that Jinwoo might be one of them; a being that can write your ending so long as it satisfied him, his face abruptly flashing through your mind was enough to make you retch.

Your head turned towards the sky, somewhat covered by the walls of your home. At the very least, the morning sky was still your oyster—every morning was a fresh start that alleviated the pain of a predetermined ending. You learned to forgive it back then because you could not dream of never relying on it again.

You rose from under your bed covers. It was no longer something you could ignore.

To a degree, you were certain that there was some positive correlation between Jinwoo’s behavior and your nightmares. The more your mind flickered back to yesterday, the more unsalvageable his company looked. He was more a threat to your survivability than someone who you could befriend like the others. If it came down to it, you would possibly have to run the most you’ve ever done in your life. You were willing, but it was a matter of if you would get the chance to in the first place.

Jinwoo’s words from yesterday vividly echoed throughout your mind—in any case, there was no avoiding him today. You moved to the closet, creaky wooden doors opening to reveal you staring at your reflection. The mirror was placed in the middle of the closet, nearly engulfed by what looked to be a storm that passed through your belongings. You patted your face, fingers kneading away knit eyebrows as you tried not to focus on weary eyes and the tight line drawn on your face. Your affliction was proof of your dejection due to your new circumstance—it was unlike you to be in such a state. You survived to live freely and now you placed yourself in a predicament that threatened your state of being.

You ignored the sensation of faint prickling that tickled the corners of your lips.

Jinwoo was unpredictable, and that was a major problem in terms of survivability.

Damn it, how could you get out?

He was slowly beginning to root himself into your life and that was terrifying. Even worse, you were never clued in to his actual intentions—by a stroke of fate he gave you the ‘honor’ of his attention, and now he was feeding you handfuls. Was it a major oversight on your part, to not pay attention to such an action? Would your careless decision during a moment of vulnerability cost you everything? It was easy to envision how your life would eventually center around his, like a satellite orbiting a planet—Jinwoo’s raw strength and unknown capabilities could be enough to bend an individual to his desires. Said individual would no longer maintain the privilege of free choice; any option that was not correct—in his eyes—was a rash decision that betrayed his wishes.

Fuck. All paths that tied in Jinwoo involved a life half-lived.

Unless you were inferring too much. Everything thus far was still speculation, other than a few abnormalities in his usual solemn behavior. It had only been a few days, and yet your mind portrayed him as a villain.

And yet…

And yet it felt like he was hiding. The feeling that he was still lurking within the shadows, just like the first day you met him. That he was not… fully there. He was faded out, but if you cared to look a little closer, you would see that he wasn’t a normal shadow.

Your antsy temperance, driven by countless near-fatal encounters, never quelled itself in the presence of Jinwoo.

Either your mentality was cracking under pressure—his pressure—or the severe amount of devils advocate you played as a paroxysm of coping.

It would not be long until your mind landed itself in the grave, by his hand or yours.

You watched the intense rich shade of red trickle down your lips and onto your chin, its boldness absorbing your attention and trail suctioning color beneath its crimson hue. Perhaps the aching of your sensory receptors was a direct consequence of the peril you put yourself in—an unconscious and remorseful action.

You could not regret—there was no time, for he controlled that too.

Reaching for a towel to wipe the ruby from your face, a flash of purple streaked from the corner of your eye. You quickly turned but all your bulging eyes made contact with was the floor.

The floor and your shadow.

Your shadow was swirling, its outline swaying against the wooden floorboards and darkness crawling as it followed your movements. Within its depths was the image of a battle; the clash of fragments of hazel scattered throughout the pools of ink. Each unconquered piece slowly succumbed to the tide because lone soldiers were weak in the face of an army. As rich brown gradually swirled into deep black, you were reminded of the arachnids; the eight-legged creature that crawled where it pleased and patiently waited for its prey to fall into its carefully crafted web. The flush colored area that unluckily landed itself behind you was now trapped in a web of gloom, an inescapable route that held no other option but to wait for its end.

Akin to how your shadow absorbed the surroundings around it—colors swirling from vivid to black—you too were mesmerized by its outlandish ferocity. The way it continued to entrench on other areas despite your lack of movement gave you the feeling it was more lively than how you remembered it.

You moved a step back. You felt your heart racing as the shadow stormed after you, quickly discarding its entrapped victims and viciously tearing apart others to get to you. Once it reached your side, the shadow began to swirl around in its new area, straying slightly farther than your outline as it dragged other pieces of hazel within its midst.

You took several steps back, fearful eyes following your shadow’s barbaric barreling as its outline shook and swirling hastened. You could make out a small groaning sound, then a wave of sighs once the shadow reached you. Your shadow’s outline and swirling lessened in intensity, resuming its invasion sequence. Near the bottom of your feet, you almost didn’t make out the tiny inky strings that connected you to the shadow. You wanted to say they resembled hands, the way there were several small strings tied to one long string, but the swirling of the ink made it hard to make out.

Even in your own home you were going crazy.

Shortly after, you quickly got dressed and rushed out the door, never once looking back at your shadow.

The trek was fast because you did not bother to stop and look around for people to hand out food to. You were too absorbed in rethinking each encounter that you did not realize the man standing outside the shed.

“Glad to see you’re back.” Jinwoo greeted, body leaning against the shed with arms crossed. He was in a spot that offered him shade from the morning sun, dressed in his normal attire of all-black from head to toe.

You caught yourself from flinching, breaking out of your dazed state and willing yourself to speak to him.

“I, um, don’t see why not,” You meekly replied, the grip on the strap of your bag getting a little tighter. “The earthquake from yesterday did scare me, though.”

“There is no need to be afraid as long as I’m here,” Jinwoo said, pushing off the shed and stopping a shy few inches away from you.

You had not fully realized it, but Jinwoo really was an intimidating character. You never saw him at full height as he would always be sitting on something at some distance away from you and shrouded by shadows. With the way your eyes were nearly shoved into a face full of chest, you were struggling to maintain your fortitude against his domineering posture and terrorizing stare. His hands in his pockets could only do so much to shrink his broad shoulders that boldly shaped his black dress shirt.

Jinwoo leaned down toward you, head slightly tilted. His gray eyes immediately collapsed your own, unable to turn away as your heart beat sporadically. Soon the chirps of birds and the swaying of grass by the wind drowned out as static filled your ears. There was only static, until you made out faint whispering that echoed by your feet—it was incomprehensible, but it was there. You could not look away to confirm or deny your paranoia—to prove you maintained a piece of sanity—but that did not matter in the face of the ferocious beast in front of you. No, what you were more scared of now was if Jinwoo could hear how fast your heart raced—whether he could read your thoughts by glimpsing through your eyes and by the amount of time he’s spent in your head. You were able to push back the trembling, but how long could you hold it for?

A voice was murmuring underneath the ocean of sound, promptly silencing the whispers that plagued your ears.

“Huh?” Your mind was still mushy after the wave of panic passed you, having forgotten who was in front of you. The ringing static faded the harder your nails dug into your palm.

“No charity work today?” Jinwoo repeated, head tilting more at his inquiry. He leaned back, the mist clouding your mind finally settling as he separated from you.

Your fingers fiddling with the bag strap and the shuffling noise it emitted reminded you of the donations you were given today.

Wait—the donations. You sucked in a breath, trying to even out your breathing. It was made a point that you would always hand out food before meeting with him, as you would offer him the last piece you had. It was a consistent act that you performed despite only knowing Jinwoo for a minimal amount of time. How was he aware, that today of all days, was the one irregularity in your schedule?

You quickly cleared your throat. “I planned on going after meeting with you.”

Jinwoo hummed, eyes flashing to the small stream of red that trickled down your palm. His prolonged glare at the crimson liquid and clenched fists was nearly enough for you to voice your concern, but what could you even say? The tension in the air wound your vocal cords like tight knots with a string and you were too scared to unweave them.

The brief flicker of a violet hue immediately stilled your fiddling. The color was as vivid and deep as you remembered, so much so that your body couldn’t help but freeze.

There was no way he didn’t notice.

For a moment, the only sound you heard was the blood rushing through your ears as neither of you spoke a word.

Then, Jinwoo smiled. “I’ll go with you.”

“Ah—wait, um—“ You stuttered out a flood of incomprehensible blabber, quickly muted by the pattering of Jinwoo’s shoes as they trailed off in the direction you just came from.

Jinwoo turned after a few steps, eyelids slightly crinkled due to the corners of his lips being upturned. The way that his eyes were glazed over with a somber shade, the lines of his lips wavering from his strange smile, and his tight, restrained posture snipped the words of rejection off the tip of your tongue.

Oddly, your attention shifted to the floor. The sun was blaring strongly at the current hour, your shadow desperately clinging underneath you seeking respite from its isolation to other shadowy entities. You watched—in a state of shock and awe—as the shadow stretched its outline farther, almost as if extending an open hand, as Jinwoo crept closer to you. His silhouette looked animated as inky black pools excitedly swirled the closer it got. It was drawn to you—desperately trying to stay close to you—as if it was a planet orbiting the sun.

The gravity that must surround you enough to pull in an entity of the likes of possibly Jupiter—did it mean you were significant, someone that finally held power?

…Even then, would that be a good thing?

The sun’s gravity was strong enough to pull in other planets to its orbit, and they would remain there for however long the sun remained. If the sun moved, the planets moved with it.

The sun was significant, so the sun was trapped.

…Could the sun ever defy its fate?

Gray eyes pierced like needles into your skin.

“Shall we?”

“Please use this to take care of yourself.”

You handed a woman a portion of your donations, watching as she carefully grasped the bread before hastily running off in the opposite direction.

You did not blame the woman since the oppressive presence behind you was beginning to give you a headache. You could say he was like a shadow that followed your movement, but that felt obvious.

In any case, he felt more like a parasite. He fed off any and all emotions you had and indulged as if it were a banquet and you were a feast—when you smiled after someone was vigorously thanking you, the atmosphere felt lighter. If you so much as frowned at someone’s words, the inky shadows that trailed his form flickered harshly.

He shared your actions, albeit more ferociously.

It was out of the question telling him to leave, so was it within the realm of possibility to tell Jinwoo to calm down?

Speak of the devil—he suddenly interrupted your thoughts.

“Would you care to enlighten me for a moment?” You perked up at Jinwoo’s words. He was smiling, albeit a bit more widely when your eyes met his.

“What are your thoughts about ‘wielding power’?”

A spontaneous question; something you were never normally asked. Sure, people ask what ability you would have if you awakened but they never asked about the concept. The wording was… off putting to say the least, but….

You pursed your lips. “Power is the gauge of potential. An individual can hold a certain level of power and thus exert that same level of authority over those without it.”

The Hunters Association and all guilds used a similar basis. Individuals had power, but what about combining power? There was a reason why the top guilds all held S-ranks and many A-ranks.

“When it comes to wielding power, I don’t think my opinion matters.”

“Well, I asked specifically for it, no?”

You shook your head. “That’s not what I mean. My opinion is that I have no opinion because it’s something I could never experience.”

Hunters? Awakening? If you had not seen the end of the world you wouldn’t have believed such nonsensical words. Your life was so awfully normal that dropping your phone on the floor was likely a weekly highlight for you.

“Wielding power… is something I’ve merely wished for. More precisely, I wish for the ability to protect.”

“The ability to protect…” Jinwoo echoed, pondering for a moment. Your eyes caught a glimpse of his eyebrow twitching, as if he had decided something. You wanted to inquire, but he looked incredibly deep in thought.

Eventually, you gathered the courage to speak.

“Jinwoo—“

“Excuse me?” A male voice spoke out from your side.

A boyish-looking male came into view and the first thing you noticed was his tattered clothing. His shoes were completely worn while his satchel was tearing apart at the seams. His clothes and face were marred with dirt and you felt your heart tug a little.

He looked exasperated.

You nodded quickly, pulling out bread and a bottle of water. You ignored the annoyed grunt from behind you.

The way the boy’s eyes lit up… it was a reminder of why you pushed so far. The loss of folks you cherished so deeply nearly tipped you over the edge. No matter how many times you begged the wind to guide you to at least a breathing sibling, or knelt down crying in front of the small cemetery that would never hold a single one of your family members—it would not bring them back. But, doing some good for others felt good. It reminded you of the days when they were still there—the small smiles plastered on grateful faces morphed into ones that resembled familiar, joyful expressions.

Familiarity was comforting in a world that was anything but.

What was not familiar, however, was the sudden warmth you felt allocating your entire body. Your wide eyes met his closed ones—he had shaky arms wrapped around you while murmuring multiple thank you’s. It was an uncommon occurrence for passerby’s to show this degree of gratitude, mostly because of fear. It took you a few seconds to realize he was hugging you, but when you did, you hugged back. Maybe it was because his hug felt like your parents were embracing you, or that he distinctly sounded like your younger cousin. Maybe it was out of pity. Nonetheless, you hugged him back and patted his shoulder.

“You’ll be okay,” You mumbled. You weren’t sure if it was to yourself or to the boy.

The boy pulled away, hesitating before saying, “Please thank the man that was with you for me.”

You raised a brow. ‘Was’? You turned around, seeking a figure that was no longer there. Your body shook a bit, hair on your arms standing. Where did he go?

You weren’t paying attention to where he fled, or whether he said anything or not. It wasn’t like him to suddenly walk out, at least, you thought so.

Maybe that was why your chest felt so light.

You waved farewell to the boy after a few more minutes of him bowing, watching him vanish among the cluster of trees. You couldn’t help but take another sweep around to make sure Jinwoo left. The numerous amount of times you’ve experienced him doing something unpredictable still did not quell the insurmountable dread racking over you.

Some time passed during your small scavenge to see where he had gone and you ultimately decided to return home at the sight of the darkening sky. The sounds of the night… on occasion there were the croaks of animals but, really, all that remained were the small insects the strong never worried about. The more you thought about it, you and the people you knew resembled those same insects. You all buzzed around as a population and prayed the predators didn’t bat an eye at the footprints left behind. The moment the noises got loud enough, the population would be wiped in an instant.

You readjusted your bag strap as you stepped over a tree root. The narrow path signaled you were getting closer to home. The familiar twisting of branches and rocks ensnared in crevices eased your spiraling mind. Leaves crunched under your foot with each step and eventually was matched by the sound of your breathing. This, too, was familiar.

You took another step. Crunch.

Then another step. Crunch.

Another step. Cr—

The crunching noise was subsided by a light splash-like sound. You took another step, not quite registering the sudden change, yet felt a sticky substance beneath your feet. You looked down, seeing splatters of a mysterious liquid littered around leaves. It looked like there was a trail, but even when you squinted your eyes you could not make out what the liquid was. You continued to walk, splatters turning into pools and your feet felt like it was moving through mud. The brisk fresh air that felt easy to breathe began to filter out as dread filled your lungs. The trees parted out around this point now, and the village was just in sight. The crimson gleamed grimly under the moonlight and you willed your shaking knees to not give out. You wanted to let out a sob but your throat tightened as the wind picked up. Leaves, some dyed with red, flew past you and all you could do was linger on the familiar flow of hair that sat atop an unmoving body surrounded by waves of blood.

You refused to move outside of the village.

The first few days, you stranded yourself inside your home. After finding the corpse, you immediately ran to the village chief and reported it. You were interrogated for a short while, but upon determining your innocence—the crime scene did not match how clean your clothes were—you were allowed to return home. The tread back did not stop you from listening to the whispers of curious crowds.

“He was stabbed a grand total of 30 times all around his body.”

“Really? I would’ve thought some sort of monster had slaughtered him, the way he was completely torn through…”

“He looks awfully young… This is truly a tragedy.”

“What caused this?”

“Does anyone know who this is?”

You shut the door, leaning your head down and bumping it harshly against the wooden door.

The familiar patch of hair covered in blood, cold amber eyes, and scarred boyish features kept you awake that night.

You did not tell the others that you had met him hours prior—had given him a portion of the donations you always carried with you. Perhaps it was so you could grieve by your lonesome, or so you wouldn’t have to face reality just yet.

You mourned the fact you didn’t even know his name.

For the first time ever, you refused to hand out donations. Instead, you helped around the village. Your guilt was eating away at you and you needed a distraction. You helped repair houses, organize food, and babysat children. Each job wore you down worse than the other, to the point where you would pass out in bed. You took nearly every job in the hopes of being kept away from… thinking.

It worked out for a while. You stopped thinking about the body, and you stopped thinking about Jinwoo.

Jinwoo. It was not difficult to put the pieces together.

He was despair incarnate—an accident waiting to happen.

It was high time you stopped fooling yourself that he would be anything less than ‘normal’.

You refused to fathom the ‘why’ and ‘how’. He was not someone you wanted to concern yourself with anymore. Each event that played out, odd occurrences, and anxiety attacks all linked to him.

To be around him… it was like reliving trauma from the day the world collapsed.

Each day away from him you continued living your past life of normalcy. You didn’t second guess actions of others, less nightmares, and you stopped paying attention to your shadow. There was a slight pull on your heart sometimes, one that resembled fear, and it motivated you go all the way for a fresh new start.

By the end of the week, you would move out. Based on the local nomads that come and go from your village, there was another shelter farther from here. It would be a long journey—not an easy feat—but you welcomed this as a new experience.

You were going to put everything behind you and live free. Your lost family, friends—maybe they would rest more easily knowing you finally stopped clinging to their memories.

You opened the closet door and looked into the mirror. Your face looked brighter and fuller. You smiled to the reflection, happy that for the first time in forever you were proud of yourself.

A heavy knock sounded at your door and you practically bounced over. It could be one of the parent’s wanting you to watch their children again; someone like May would want her daughter to get a proper goodbye.

An unfamiliar face greeted you at the door and you were taken aback by her petrified expression. Your smile dropped near instantaneously.

“T-The c-center… y-you…” The woman was quivering so much you thought she would fall.

You did not need to hear the rest of her words to start sprinting towards the village’s center.

The center had a good amount of space for larger-than-normal gatherings and meetings. Closest to the center housed the village’s chief, so any and all important duties always beelined to the center.

Certainly there was not a special meeting today, otherwise you would’ve heard about it. A surprise occasion, perhaps?

You spotted a giant cluster of people swarming the center. Roughly speaking, nearly the entire village’s population was gathered outside with even the scavengers joining the party based off the number of familiar heads you saw. The large crowd of people made you more suspicious. This was definitely not normal. You could make out numerous terrified whispers beyond the turning heads and mouths behind their hands. It was only when you got closer that you realized this was not a normal gathering.

At the edges of the crowd and covered in a thick, deep black were multiple entities. They varied in form from large bears, elves, ants, and wolves to humanoid figures covered in armor. You would’ve assumed them to be beasts if not for their color and that they were not attacking the unarmed civilians they surrounded.

A gut-wrenching feeling was pooling. All of the village was gathered, there were beasts patrolling thought to be untamable, and you specifically were reached out to. Your house was a bit out of the way—it was the one closest to the edge and furthest from the center. It would make sense why you did not hear the commotion, but it did not make sense for you to be called on out of everyone else.

In a moment you made up your mind. The beasts were busy watching over the crowd so you took quiet steps to back away. It was better to make distance in case you needed a head start—something you wish you did when the portals opened and you were too awestruck to move.

There was growling heard from a wolf as a woman attempted to leave.

You took a few more steps back. If you reached a bit farther back you could block yourself with the bushes.

In any case, the situation looked dire enough for you to debate running to another village for help. The closest one was about a day or two’s worth of walking, it was a risk but what other option did you possibly have? All the people here were in danger, yet again, you were powerless. What a bitter feeling.

You took another step only to stop at the sound of groaning behind you.

You turned, nearly falling to the floor at the sight in front of you.

The figure was tall—tall enough that you had to turn your head up to see its head. Similar to its peers, it was completely encased in an inky black. Now that you could get a closer look, you also noticed dark clouds pooling around the entity, almost like a mist-like substance was protruding from it. It confirmed that whatever these… things were, they were not normal portal creatures. Your eyes trailed slowly from its darkened plates—was that armor?—to two white orbs. Its white eyes were staring holes into you, face hidden behind an armor helmet. You watched in horror as the plume atop its head waved, metal creaking as it bent its top half forward. You were expecting hostility; perhaps the being would usher you forcefully into the crowd or treat you as if you escaped. To your surprise, the head dipped—it went low enough for the white to disappear. The right hand of the knight was placed gently against the center of its chest and it kept its head down for a few moments. Was it… bowing?

You moved to sprint but the knight’s head shot up. It narrowed its eyes in a way that said ‘don’t’. The moment you saw the heavy sheathed sword strapped to its side you stopped. You felt your eye twitch as it waved its hand in the direction of the center, motioning for you to step forward first. You could clearly see, then, the other shadowy entities staring at you and how the armored knight perfectly stood atop your shadow. You were caught in the same trap as the others, the sinking feeling in your chest unyielding.

You reluctantly made your way towards the center. Following your steps behind you was the sound of metal grating and heavy thudding against the clear plain. No matter how many times you pinched yourself, the sight remained the same: large crowd and beasts. It reminded you so vividly of back then that you couldn’t stop the trembling in your legs. As you approached the crowd, their faces reflected your shaking: uneasy and fearful. Some shadows moved to part the crowd, allowing you an easier entryway towards the center. They mimicked what the knight from before did, all bowing in their own way.

You felt everyone staring and never before did you feel so anxious.

The sudden hushes from the crowd that swiftly turned into silence allowed you to hear the booming voices in the distance.

The familiar sinking of your heart stimulated the fully formulated sensation of fear—a new-found source of dread entirely because one of the booming voices you recognized.

“…This offer is beneficial to you, is it not?” A deep voice said, sending a tremor down your spine.

“It is a negotiation, not an offer,” Another voice said, “I am uncertain of your terms so I cannot comply.”

There was a long, drawn-out sigh. You peeked from behind the shoulder of a soldier in front of you, praying you wouldn’t be noticed.

Jinwoo ran a hand through his messy dark hair, eyes practically glowering at the village chief. The leader of the community—the one who allocates and organizes everyone’s resources while ensuring safety—is known as the village chief. For the minor semblance to how past society lived, they were elected periodically by the community. You talked to him recently about the body, but… why was he talking to Jinwoo?

Wait, why was Jinwoo even here?

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I only asked for your permission out of convenience.”

“After all, the person I was waiting for is finally here.”

You cowered behind the soldier, watching as his eyes raked through the entire crowd until stopping on you.

“Isn’t that right, Y/N? Come out now.” He was beckoning you forward with his hand, index finger wagging at you as if trying to cage a scared puppy.

Jinwoo, of the attire you’ve seen him in previously, was wearing something different. Instead of slightly ragged clothes he was wearing a long black coat with silver engravings around the shoulder and wrists. He wore a clean white shirt underneath along with black pants and formal black shoes—the outfit would’ve screamed ‘money’ to you if there was such things as designer still.

He was befitting to be someone of high society, in fact.

Your eyes met with the village chief and it seemed he immediately understood the situation. He was mouthing ‘no’ at you, trying to deter you—this was enough to keep your feet planted.

You remained still. Soon enough, you felt something spike in the air, the shadows beneath his coat tail flicking wildly at your impertinence. The entities surrounding the crowd grew restless, with the shadow-being you were hiding behind shaking. Jinwoo was staring bullets into you, even behind the soldier, and the shadows were as well.

“Move.” Jinwoo flicked his wrist towards the soldier and it immediately crumbled into a dark cloudy mist. The essence then moved back towards Jinwoo’s shadow, becoming absorbed into his outline.

Petrified, you stood still. A lot of things started to click as you began to realize what Jinwoo’s true power was. The way his shadow never stood still or how your own never acted quite right… it made sense.

Now you were staring at him and he was staring at you. Jinwoo gave you a slight wave.

He smiled. “I missed you.”

You were too scared to open your mouth with how tight your throat was.

Jinwoo turned to the tall knight next to you. “Good work, Igris. Now—“

The knight nodded his head, white eyes still watching you.

“—I’d like to discuss our future.” There was a glow emitting from Jinwoo’s eyes, light shining on his violet pupils.

He held out his hand, tapping the right palm of the hand using his left index finger. “From now on, the people living here will act under me.”

What? What did he say?

“I reject!” The village chief roared. “For someone like you to show up like this…”

“Quiet.” Jinwoo held a finger to his lips, purple eyes violently flashing.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

He turned towards you. “I will protect all that live here.”

Jinwoo licked his lips. “In return, Y/N, you will be my betrothed.”

No. No, no, no, no.

No.

After all that has happened, maybe it was because of him. Just him. He single-handedly ruined the remaining good parts of your life and for what? To be some selfish bastard?

No. No way.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Jinwoo?” You shouted, holding back tears. No wonder his behavior was so goddamn psychotic—he wanted you to be his lover?

“I barely know who the hell you are, and what you’re doing right now is absurd. Just who are you?”

Jinwoo tilted his head. “Do you really not know?” He tapped a finger against his cheek.

“Have you heard of the Monarchs?”

Monarchs? Did he mean the Monarchs of Calamity?

Although you experienced the end of the world, you were unfamiliar concerning its origin. There were multiple theories that were shared with you, such as planned gate-opening or that multiple outbreaks occurred simultaneously due to probability. A leading theory was that there were beings, named Monarchs, who acted as divinity because they possessed power that rivaled gods. Even when the S-rank hunters of other countries joined forces, they were unable to be on equal footing with the Monarchs. These Monarchs, for an unbeknownst reason, released an unnatural calamity upon the world—hence the name ‘Monarchs of Calamity.’ You never pondered this theory—why would you want to reflect on the idea that a disaster was intentionally brought upon you? The fact that it was brought up means…

“…Are you a Monarch?” You asked, eyes flashing towards the darkened knight he called ‘Igris.’

“I am the Monarch of Shadows.” Jinwoo sneered at the title, the corner of his lips momentarily quirking upward as he watched despair flash over the village chief’s face.

It seemed Jinwoo did not like your own befallen expression, though.

“It’s of interest to you because that means I am also the leader of Monarchs.” You curled your right fist, squeezing your nails as hard as you could against the palm of your hand.

“In terms of protection, I am the best there is.” Jinwoo continued, waving towards his army—monstrosities that have already conquered countless civilizations within a blink of an eye.

“The people you love now… I can take care of them. All you have to do is say yes.”

You looked back towards the crowd. They were still anxious and afraid. The familiar faces you saw, the children, the families… this was cruel. If you said no, would he—

“Do you remember the conversation we had the other day, about power?” Jinwoo asked suddenly. The way his eyes were watching you so intently, that he was eagerly awaiting your responses frightened you more than anything. You saw him flick his wrists, pulling out something from within his shadow. There was a gleam of red and immediately you let out a scream for him to stop but it was far too late.

There was a loud thud next to you and you nearly vomited.

“Your wish to obtain power… I can grant it, so long as you become my Queen.”

There, lying on the ground next to you, was the unmoving body of the village chief. The one who attempted to protect this little community to the very end, who tried to shield you despite the circumstances, and stood up to a Monarch despite not wielding power himself. There was a large, red dagger driven deep into his chest. As his blood pooled out onto the floor, the screaming began. Men shouted and roared out of fear and anger, some women screamed while others covered the childrens’ eyes. The dagger currently lodged in his chest made you blink once, then twice.

You gasped suddenly, your mind flashing back to the corpse of the boy who was overly cheerful—the image of the deep slash marks, riddled with slashes that tore out skin from bone churned through your head.

“You… the boy—it was you, wasn’t it?” You choked out, reaching for the village chief.

“He overstepped, by touching what is mine,” Jinwoo hissed, expression smoldering and hair bristling. “It’s unforgivable.”

The shadows were shrieking now, trying to tame the crowd while their Monarch was simmering. He was about to burst, but you were already on the edge. You were so overwhelmed, so tired of him and whatever despair he brought with him, that you started letting go.

“You’re a monster. A cruel, unruly, disgusting monster.” You sharply emphasized every word, hoping it stabbed as deep as he did to those innocent people. “I will never agree to your dogshit proposal.”

The yelling of the crowd began turning into shattering shrieks and now everything was unraveling to be a slaughter. There were brave people who fought and those who fled. Those who were caught began to follow the village chief. The sound of constant thudding flooded your mind but all you could simply do was tearfully stare at the corpses.

It was like the end of the world all over again.

Jinwoo held a firm hand against his face, a purple eye peeking through his fingers to peer at you.

“I still have yet to understand you. Death is such an easy thing yet you act like it’s your first time witnessing it everytime…” Jinwoo softly gritted his teeth.

“However, if death is the only issue, then it’s fixable.” Jinwoo raised a hand towards the village chief, the shadowy cloud quickly enveloping the corpse.

“Arise.”

Everything happened so quickly that you were nearly convinced you had blacked out. From the corpse that remained on the now bloody floor rose a new shadowy figure. This time, it was in the very shape of the man who you saw killed just moments ago. In fact, multiple other figures emerged from unmoving bodies that sat on the ground. Each face was a face that you recognized as people you interacted with daily. They were familiar, yet not at the same time—their faces were dull, expressionless, as if they became puppets and were waiting for the master to pull the strings.

“Queen,” The village chief spoke next to you and you stepped back out of alarm. “You are the Queen.”

“Queen,” The crowd repeated in unison. “You are the Queen.”

Stop.

Queen. It was like standing in an echo chamber.

You are the Queen. Was he this heartless?

Queen. You are the Queen.

“Stop,” You whispered.

Queen. Some children were repeating it too.

You. Are. The. Queen.

“Stop it!” You screamed, holding both hands against your ears as you finally let a sob rack over your body.

You heard footsteps approaching you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted it all to stop—everything. All the pain, the suffering, the memories. You were tired. Enough fighting, enough thinking—just, please, stop.

A warmth enveloped your body and you felt a hand gently uncover one side of your ear.

“I have waited so long for you, so accept me.” Jinwoo’s breath tickled your ear and you couldn’t help but shiver.

"Just as you belong to me, I belong to you. Any item you want, I will give. Any person you dislike will vanish within an instant.”

If you want the stars in the sky, I will lay them at your feet. If you want to conquer the entire sky, it will all be yours."

“Just be mine.”

#sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin-woo x reader #sung jin woo x reader #solo leveling x reader #yandere sung jinwoo #yandere sung jinwoo x reader #Yandere sung Jin-woo x reader #Yandere solo leveling #Yandere solo leveling x reader #yandere #yandere sung Jin woo x reader #yandere x reader #Jinwoo sung x reader #yandere jinwoo sung x reader #Yandere jinwoo sung #sung jinwoo #sung jin-woo

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red-phantom-0 · 2 months ago

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The children are dead

pt 2 of Damien x Ghoul.sib reader

──► as the two siblings grow ever so closer bonded by the cold love of their 'adopted' family and the monstrosity of their past , life throws them another unyielding cruelty that breaks them both entirely.

Tw : major character death , child neglect , revenge

Edit ty for 42 likes !!

part 1 , part 3

I'm done dreaming.

ACT I

It was late December , the air around the manor was grim and chilly , nothing but haunting and a grim reminder that life was harsh and would never be easy. Damien clenches his fingers within his gloves as he attempts to soak up what little warmth he had.

Bruce and his other siblings stood before him in the patio , discussing events pertaining to last night's stake out. Damien tunes out their annoying , scratchy voices, but his eyes trained to every other possible corner of the room searching for them.

The grandfather ticks by, and the conversation turns dull , he had to hold himself exactly ten times from clawing Dick's eyes out whenever he'd call him a demon spwan or ask him who he's planning to kill. He's at his bloody wits until he see y/n's figure limping in.

Damien pushes back his chair and immediately launches himself towards them. They didn't have to convey words as his eyes already gave away how bloody worried he was with them. He can hear Bruce and the others calling him back, but he can't give a bloody damn about them right now.

He watches as y/n's bloody form lean against the doorframe as they slide to the ground like a limp leaf . Damien kneels with them and place his hand on their bleeding stomach - it was a big gash like a vicious creature took a bite out of them.

" Oh my God, we need to get them to a doctor-" he could hear Stephanie say from behind him, and Damien has never unsheathed his sword any faster . " Shut the fuck up and leave them alone " he growled.

The last time y/n went to a doctor , the medicine they used on them caused them to turn into a ghoul for three days straight - for three days his precious sibling was forced to be driven to insanity as their ghoulish form fought with what little human control they had left to suppress themselves from consuming humans.

His poor sibling wore ghoulish scratch marks on their arms and cheeks for months after their attempt at manhandking themseleves . He can see in the distance Tim opening his big trap to give his unwanted opinion, and Damien sneered at him . His sibling couldn't heal from their medication in his own world , hell - no medication could heal them , they had to hope to God they regenerated fast enough.

" Fuck off Drake " he sneered before crouching before y/n once again.

" What happened ?" He questioned them as he pressed him hand onto their wound to stop the wound from gushing even more blood. " Ran into another ghoul - no - he was an investigator from my world that kills ghouls like me - the undefeated ghoul investigator , Arima," they explained through coughing fits.

Damien stilled. He now knew the gravity of how extremely grim the situation became , the white reaper of his siblings' universe has come to end their demise . He remembered y/n talking about him , about how Arima possessed superhuman strength and his immense 'hatred for ghouls' lead the man to kill hundreds if not thousands of ghouls in his 18 years of occupation.

Y/n gave him a small smile . " I'll be okay," they reassured him . Damien just held them as he ignored the outside world.

Oh, how he wished he didn't believe them that night .

ACT II

January 6th , the night was quiet, and still , the moon casted its opulence across the streets of Gotham. A simply routine was instilled tonight , everyone had a simple stake out tonight .

It was the first night in years Damien and y/n hadn't been with each other on a mission for years - something he'd live to regret later . He found it suspicious, but Bruce insisted he needed to join him tonight to test him out as Robin and y/n had persistently encouraged him to go.

So here he was following Bruce from rooftop to rooftop as they stalked some of Joker's henchmen . For the last hour or so , Damien had checked in on y/n , and they reported they were doing okay and had just arrested some petty thrives for the night.

The hour was coming to an end , and so far, everyone but y/n reported in . Damien grew anxious , and y/n was always a timely person, so for them to be late was entirely unheard of.

Bruce reassured him that they were fine but that didn't stop the nagging feeling in his stomach and it's not like Bruce ever cared about your existence to begin with - only cared you did what you had to do and the thought of it pissed him off.

Damien was now finishing up wrapping up his grappling hook when y/n's frantic voice buzzed through his intercom . " Help me - he's - come quick " came their frantic voice through the static. Damien felt dread weighing like lead through his veins as he clutched onto his own intercom.

" Y/n are you okay ? Where are you ?" He asked frantically but was only left with static. Damien immediately began to leave when Bruce stopped him.

" Damien y/n isn't important right now we have more important things to worry about " Bruce or rather batman says and he held his son by the shoulder . Damien harshly yanked it off . " Leave me the fuck alone - I am going to them and you aren't stopping me " He yells as he grappled off the roof.

Batman calls after him, but Damien ignores him as he grapples his way to the other side of Gotham city . His heart beats heavy in his chest as he appraches your last known location only to see the building left in ruin.

Blood splatters were everywhere, and ruins were left anew . " Y/N !!!!" He shouted as he grappled around the area , eyes frantically looking for your figure . He begs , prays to whatever God out there that you're safe as he continued further as he observes more buildings left to ruins.

Ruble covered the area as far as the eye can see , not a living soul in sight. Damien kept calling your name out , tears practically falling down his face as he continued searching.

Minutes ticked by dreadfully until he finally spots you. Your bloody figure lays there in a bed of red spider lillies. Damien lets out an ear, piercing scream at the sight . With shaky legs and arms, he approaches your figure . Your figure layed still as a gentle breeze blow, causing the spider lillies to brush up against your form like a warm blanket .

Damien holds your form with shaky hands as he keeps repeating no's over and over. Your dead brown human eye stared at him , soulless and unmoving while your beautiful red eye had a jaggery, long sword piercing right through it . Your right arm and both your legs were missing , but still - in the moonlight , you looked calm.

Damien grew quiet as he layed his head on your chest , no longer can he selfishly listen to your heartbeat and relish in the familiar love you bestowed upon him. No longer would he be able to share a laugh with you , your pain , your burdens , your bitter coffees to your exhilarating training.

He would no longer have any of those as now you lay dead , robbed from his safe embrace because life was too cruel and unforgiving and had to take away the one good thing he had his life.

He no longer felt angry at the world. No, he felt awake and mad . Be prepared , Gotham , for tonight two children died and your long awaited recogning is comming with nothing but cold , bitter , unforgiving blood shed.

A crow in the distance let out a war cry as Damien kisses your forehead one last time before the spider lillies cover your form one last time , shadong your innocence from the raging hell Damien is about to bestow upon the world.. A gentle breeze blows, and Damien unsheathes his sword, ready to bring destruction and ruin to the world.

dreaming world

prepare to be

awaken.

Part 3, anyone ?

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ryescapades · 1 month ago

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*ੈ‧₊༺ “ALL HIS GUNS WERE BLAZING,”

characters: narumi gen (kn8) x gn!reader contents: sfw, jealous!narumi, hint of ex!narumi, open ending wc ~ 600

a/n: CHAT I KNOW THIS SETUP IS REPETITIVE but i just couldn't help it ... anw, short break before i continue (and try) working on my 1k event ^_^ this was supposed to be the intro piece to the anon req about nrm and lana’s serene queen but i kinda stopped halfway ..

Narumi absolutely hates feeling like this.

It’s curling in the depth of his guts, writhing and squirming like parasites feeding on its host. His chest feels tight, as if there’s an iron fist controlling the way it beats, oppressive and ruthless and cruel. It’s green, it’s mucky, it’s repulsive.

He tries his damnedest to tear his eyes away, but the sight in front of him makes it impossible to do so. It burns. His heart burns. An emissary of his own tribulation, his focus continues to fix on the ravenous gazes feasting on you, trying to steal away all your attention that was meant only for him.

It used to be, at least.

The lights reflect from the crystals on the chandelier hanging above, highlighting all the glorious velvets and diamonds in the decorated ballroom. You stand in the small crowd of tattling officers and superiors alike, an expression of ease and cordiality stuck on your stunning face.

Playing nice during formal events such as this has never been his forte. Scandalmongers and… ass kissers (as he’d like to put it) hide behind sugary smiles and honeyed praises, seeking attention only to gain benefits of their own.

They get to the very end of his nerves, and the fact that he’s more or less required to attend these events make them even worse to be at. Not to mention the various threats from Hasegawa about throwing away his games if he doesn’t at least show his face here.

Forget about the kaijus, humanity itself is in another league of monstrosity.

As one of the strongest officers around, Narumi is subjected to being the center of all the gossip and envious stares. Men and women wish they were him, some even flocking themselves around him in hopes they’d eventually get the chance to be one of those in his orbit.

He couldn’t care less about those people though.

However, when it comes to you…

Narumi’s eye twitches again when the man you’re talking to steps just a tad bit closer, thinking you won’t notice such a subtle action. The audacity of that man? And it’s not just him, either. He’s all too aware of the vultures lurking around in the hall, hushedly whispering and eyeing you like you’re a piece of meat. He gets it. He really does.

You’re gorgeous, talented, ridiculously strong in all manners of combat, and you’re his, you’re his, you’re hi—

A sudden touch on his arm stops him short, a hand running itself down his bicep like it had any business doing so. He’s then reminded of the female officer from another division that has been on his ass for the past ten minutes, looking all too friendly as she continues to prattle on about her achievements in the Defense Force; a pathetic attempt at convincing him once again to vouch for her promotion to her own captain.

He wanted to push her away, wanted to rush off to the exit of this goddamn place to go back to the comfort of his office and spend time in the virtual world, but when his sensitive irises catch the telltale sign of discomfort on your face from the foreign and filthy hand trying to snake its way around your waist, he thinks his mind had blacked out from how unconsciously his next set of actions feels.

It’s like there’s a different entity taking over him, leading him to march towards where you are. The conversation you were having with the obnoxious man is halted, and you can barely get a word out before the captain pushes the officer off you, grabbing your hand in his before he drags you away into the night...

been sitting in my wip doc for like ,, idk Months

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

#narumi gen x reader #narumi gen x you #gen narumi x reader #gen narumi x y/n #gen narumi x you #narumi x reader #narumi x you #kn8 x reader #kn8 #kaiju no 8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no.8 x reader #divider by saradika #🥣 rye works

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briarberrythornedhart · 2 months ago

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Trust me

Contains: Post Season 4, Hurt/comfort, implied sex, Eddie Munson X You, no Y/N, roommates to lovers.

🦇 🛋️ 🦇 😴 🦇

Eddie lived.

And now he lives with you. You invited him to stay with you in your apartment and lie low while the Sheriff’s dept and the FBI completed the investigation of the murders (and exonerated Eddie, obviously).

There is some damage to his tattoos and a half destroyed nipple but otherwise he was unharmed physically by the events in Hawkins.

Mentally, he struggles.

He is uneasy and anxious.

Extremely Jumpy.

You’ve taken to wearing an ankle bracelet that jingles so he’ll hear you coming and not panic.

He doesn’t sleep well. He’s always tired and can’t even nap. He’s not even cranky about it, he’s just listless.

Dustin says he’s very different from the Eddie he knew in High School. Almost the opposite. Revved Down.

Eddie tells you he can’t sleep anymore because when he closes his eyes he sees the murders. Even Fred’s, which he didn’t witness in person, his brain cruelly recreates on a loop of guilt with the other deaths. It does no good to tell him he shouldn’t feel guilty, he can’t turn off the feeling that if he’d done something differently… he could have saved them. Like he personally could have taken Vecna out if he knew the solution. Like he picked the wrong CYOA path. It’s ridiculous and he knows it but he can’t seem to change that feeling, especially at night.

In the time you’ve chosen to take him in as your own personal project— sorry… as your roommate and good friend - You have barely seen him close his eyes at all.

The chocolate orbs are usually on you, meeting your gaze, watching your movements. Curious as a cat.

Right now it’s breakfast and he’s watching you make cinnamon toast.

Your way. Which is a very specific way. Exactly how you like it.

He looks like he’s taking mental notes but his head is heavy on his hand and his shoulders are curved like he could almost fall over from fatigue.

The black eyeliner he let you decorate his eyes with is smeared over the dark circles under his eyes. The black nail polish on each short nail bed on each long skilled (guitarist) finger is chipped. You will offer to repaint it later.

Even bone tired in rumpled sweatpants and an old tshirt that has holes in the armpits and at the collar… he is still unbelievably hot.

Without a doubt, if you weren’t certain-sure he was not into you in the slightest, you’d have tried something already.

Probably. You have a type and it is this guy.

“Smells good.” Eddie suddenly says. Perking up slightly.

“Do you want some toast?” You ask.

“Yes, please, princess.” He uses his trademark terms of endearment with everyone. It isn’t condescending or anything. After all he calls Steve Harrington and ‘Coffin-Jeff’ from his band and Nancy Wheeler ‘Princess’, too. So you think it doesn’t mean much of anything.

He licks his lips in anticipation.

The man would live on foods that are nutritionally-void vessels for butter if you didn’t insist on the occasional salad or omelette.

“You can have as much as you like if you’ll take a nap for me after.” You promise, handing him a triangle of toast.

“With you?” Eddie raises his eyebrows in a twist of confusion.

“Yeah. I mean…At the same time.” You Disambiguate. He slumps slightly and nibbles on the crusts. “You could take the couch and I could take the loveseat… Unless…”

“Unless???” His eyebrows are back up, way up, hidden in the curly brunette fringe.

“Well….I’ve heard that weighted blankets help with uneasy sleep, nightmares, anxiety and stuff. We don’t have anything heavy bedding wise but…I could be your weighted sorta blanket…if you trust me.”

“You’d do that for me?” Eddie smiles softly. “Even knowing I usually wake up yelling and screaming about scary shit?”

You did not know that. “Of course. Let’s try something new, you need sleep and I want to help if I can.”

He finished the cinnamon toast in 2 bites.

You lead him to the big thrift store find monstrosity of a chesterfield that he had helped you heft into the apartment.

It was wide and deep and cozy.

“Will I fit?” Eddie looked skeptical. “I usually curl up on my side on couches, these darn legs are longer than they look…”

You pressed gently on his shoulders. “Trust me. Get comfy.” You insisted. “Bend one knee up against the sofa back.”

He flopped down on his back, hands behind head, legs slightly spread and gone boneless. “Climb aboard.” He said wryly.

You crawled from his bare feet up between his spread legs to ease yourself onto his body. You tried not to feel some kind a messy way about how he body-rolled against you as you both tried to find the most comfortable position. Eventually your head was resting on his broad chest.

You shifted and felt like you were gonna roll off him, off the couch, but he said “whoa, princess.” And wrapped an arm around you to keep you there.

You were held and warm and not a little bit well….to be honest you were just completely massively turned on by the perfect scent of him and being pressed against his body.

“You good?” You asked.

“Yea, sweetheart. How bout You?” Eddie whispered.

“I feel safe.” You lied. Because what you felt was more complex than safe could ever be.

“Good. When I get… uh…if you notice that I am…” Eddie cleared his throat. “Just know I’d never do anything. I promise.”

You peered up at him. Your turn to be very confused.

He stammered and his face reddened. “I mean if you feel uh… ‘little Eddie’ getting ideas down there, don’t worry, I’m in control. Just because you feel so nice… perfect even… know I’m at the helm, right? And I value our friendship and would never…”

“I thought I didn’t do it for you?? Like at all?” You stammered back.

“I mean, obviously you do. You Do all of it for little Eddie.” He gestured at his crotch which was pitching a size large (OMG is that real?) tent in the sweats. “You are hot and sweet and funny and whip-smart and you’ve got this ass that I… ::fuck:: I’m sorry, forget I said… I mean, I wouldn’t ever do anything about it, not ever.”

“Why the hell not??” You got up on your elbows and sat on his belly. You looked down at his gorgeous flushed face. He bit his lips hard.

“Princess, You mean too much to me. When I think about losing you…”

“Why would you lose me? I’m very hard to just…misplace.” You stuck out your tongue at him.

He gave you a small chuckle and his hands found your hips. Squeezed you there. One hand stroked down your leg to run a finger over your jingling ankle bracelet. Then he frowned and then his hands dropped away.

He took a deep shuddery breath. “I usually lose when I love… one way or another, it’s inevitable… I have extraordinarily bad luck.”

“Eddie, nothing is totally inevitable.” You touched his cheek. Rubbed his lower lip with your thumb. “Can you trust me just a little bit more than you fear bad luck?”

Perhaps a smile teased one corner of his mouth. Almost a smile. Nearly one. “I trust you, Princess.”

You dismounted Eddie and took his hand to lead him to your room. Soon to be his room too.

He did yell that night but not in an unhappy way.

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things #smut adjacent #fluff #comfort #eddie munson #boyfriend shaped #bisexual eddie munson #Eddie Munson should wear eyeliner and nail polish #reader wears anklet #cw canon Vecna murders

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

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Mistle-hoe

Warnings: noncon and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: You take on a job at the holidays to get some extra money, but you get way more than that.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Day Thirty-One of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - how is the mistletoe following you around?

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

‘Hey, where u at?’

You sigh at the text message and type a flurried response before you tuck your phone in your back pocket. ‘Work’. Of course, Alicia is so self-involved, she can’t remember the one thing you told her a dozen times.

Sorry, can’t make the New Year’s Eve shindig, I need the money.

“These shirts are... scratchy,” Paulina distracts you from your irritation, sparking a new agitation just beneath your skin. You look down at the attire and shrug. “But fancy.”

You look down at the sparkly monstrosity. Silver isn’t really your colour. For a price, it can be. That night, you’ll be making double overtime and a tip. It’s more than worth skipping one of Alicia’s ridiculous drunken spectacles.

“A little,” you adjust the trap. The rest of your outfit is standard; black pants, black shoes, heeled just as the job description specified. You prefer your flats with the inserts but you can bear a bit of arch pain for the check at the end of the night. Rather, year.

“Must be quite the event,” you comment as you take a loaded tray; lobster, shrimp, mussels. The typical fair would be macaroni and cheese bites or pigs in a blanket. Tonight, is a fine affair.

“CEOs,” Krista comes up on your other side. “So I hear. Bunch of rich old men. Just make sure you’re generous with the wine. You’ll get a bigger tip.”

“Huh, right,” you lift the heavy tray and balance it expertly. “It might even cut short the night.”

“Looking at some of these guys, you’re probably right,” Paulina snickers. “I’m seeing a lot of silver, not just these things.” She pinches a sequin on her shirt. “Ugh, the liner on this is awful.”

You agree. You could throw the tray of appetizers and scratch your own skin off. You’ve dealt with worse. It’s part of the job. Banquets, work lunches, even weddings. Serving isn’t as glamourous as those melodramatic reality shows might suggest.

You carry the tray through the curtain and start your rounds. It is a rather stuffy gathering. Black tie and all. As you silently offer your fare, acting as the perfect conveyor of gluttony, you notice a peculiar detail. Among all the tailored jackets, silk ties, and quaffed haircuts, there are no women. Not aside from you and the other servers.

It might just be that it’s a boys’ club. That good old glass ceiling is thicker than you expect. Still, these things are rarely very lively without a female element. That’s not really your concern. You’re not the event planner, you’re just a walking table.

“That shrimp?” A voice calls over. You turn as a man beckons you closer with his glass.

You approach him as he turns with interest to the tray. He keeps one hand in his jacket pocket as you present the tray with indifference. He sports a rather bristly mustache and tidy haircut. It’s a choice. With money like his, style is expendable.

“Oh, would you look at this,” he brings his hand out of his pocket and raises it high above the tray, “what do ya know?”

You lock down a stoic expression and peer up at the cluster in his hand. Seriously? Your uncle used to pull that trick on your aunts. It was always kind of gross.

“So uh... looks like we got caught, huh,” the man snickers.

You look at him, horrified. He can’t be serious. Yet, if he’s a rich as they say, you expect that boundaries are nothing but a paywall to him.

“You know it’s bad luck to break tradition,” he wiggles the mistletoe over you. “Don’t wanna start the new year off on a sour note, toots.”

You tilt your head. You’re actually speechless. Not just your usual deferential silence, you really don’t know how to response.

He presses his knuckles against the tray with his other hand, still gripping his glass, and steps closer. Your lashes flick in shock and your turn your head at the last moment as he puckers so he gets your cheek. His lips are wet with alcohol. Smells like gin.

“Mm, downer,” he pulls back, “I'll get the lips next time.”

He winks and retracts his arm, tucking away the mistletoe. He scoops up one of the skewers of shrimp and struts off without another word. God, that was slimy. You bend your head and wipe your cheek on your shoulder.

You should warn the others. Avoid the one with the pornstache. Ugh. Why do men do this? Just think off the money.

As you turn, Paulina’s tinkling giggle draws your attention. A man offers her a drink from his glass. You’re disappointed to see her accept. That’s a firing offence in most jobs. Not only that, it sets a bad precedence. These men don’t seem to have much restraint as it is.

You crawl through, putting the tray out to reach hands. The air is cool as it speckles over your bare arms. You sidle around as you carry only scraps and return to curtained off space by the kitchen window. You trade your tray for a smaller one set with pre-mixed martinis.

Another lap. The time sifts by slowly. You’re definitely earning the double overtime. Two white-haired men ogle you as they accept a martini. One sucks the olives off the toothpick as he leers. You keep a tight-lipped smile and move on.

“Ah, don’t mind if I do,” that same timbre draws you around to face the mustachioed man. He sets his empty glass on the tray and takes one of the stemmed martinis, “you like gin, baby face?”

“Sir,” you neither confirm or deny. He slurps noisily and rocks on his feet.

You don’t have the space to angle around him. He seems to know it as he widens his stance and corners you further. You nearly groan as you sense his arm rising once more. No!

The mistletoe jingles over your head, a small bell among the leaves. You stare at him with open concern. You’re helpless with your armful of drinks.

“Ah, come on, don’t be shy,” he shifts closer, leaning in as he turns his cheek to you, “just a little one, right here.”

You stare at his cheek. You just want this to be over with. Then you’ll be more vigilant and avoid him like the plague. You go to peck his cheekbone and he quickly snaps his head around and presses his lips to yours. You gasp and recoil, struggling not to spill the martinis as they slosh dangerously.

He cackles and drains the martini. “Cute, I like it,” he wiggles the mistletoe again. “Hard to get, huh?”

You back up and turn. Humiliated. What the hell?

You glance around. Paulina’s sitting across to men’s laps as they feed her strawberries, one stroking her hip as the other keeps a hand on your thigh. Holy shit. This is getting strange.

Krista is against the wall with another man, gray and balding. He whispers in her ear as she giggles and rubs his chest. Are you the only one working around here?

You hurry behind the curtain and put the tray down. Where is Doris? This is her event. She should be keeping an eye on this. These men are animals.

You peek through the curtain, scouring the room for her. You turn and go into the kitchen. It’s a frantic nest of chaos but she’s not there. Shit. You really don’t want to walk out, you need the money badly, but this is too much. You’re a server, not... what these men want you to do.

“Oops,” the drawl makes you shudder as you walk directly into another body. The snicker that follows makes your skin crawl. It’s him. Again. “Think I’m lost, honey bee.”

You look up at him and purse your lips. This is too much. This man is gross.

“You can’t be back here--”

“Baby, just a kiss,” he smirks.

You stare at him, waiting for him to lift that stupid mistletoe. He doesn’t. You frown.

“It’s caught,” he looks down and tilts his pelvis. The leaves are clips to his belt buckle, “would you look at that?”

You take a step back as your nose flares. “Alright, sir, that’s inappropriate--”

“Shhh,” he hushes you as he gets closer. “Go on, earn it, baby.”

“Huh?” You grimace.

“You think we’re paying top dollar for gin and fish. Go on and give it a kiss,” he grabs his belt and jingles the bell. “I’ll put an extra grand on your tip if you put one on mine.”

You cringe and step back. He grabs your arm and you cry out. You bring your other hand up to shove his chest.

“Hey, I’m not—I'm not prostitute, you weirdo,” you snarl as you wrestle with him.

“Oh, that’s fine. I’ll go for an under the table favour,” he growls.

“Get off--” You struggle with him, fighting his strength as he keeps one hand on your wrist and the other snakes around your waist. You raise your voice as you snarl. “Dude, fuck off of me.”

The door to the kitchen swings open and you look over desperately. Thank god. You push against the man as you send Doris a pleading look.

“Hey, this guy won’t-- leave me--”

“Keep it down, sweetheart,” she tuts. “You’re going to ruin the party.” She looks at the man, “Mr. Hansen, have you found everything to your liking?”

“Oh, sure,” the man replies brightly, “I don’t mind working for it.”

You hit his chest with your fist and try to stomp his foot, “Doris! You can’t--”

She struts away, disappearing beyond the curtain. You whine as the man squeezes you to him and you writhe. What the fuck?

“Don’t worry, baby,” he nuzzles your temple as your squirm, his mustache tickling your hairline, “I’ll give you a special kiss too.” His hand slips down to your ass and he gropes until you squeal. “Feel like you need that kitty eaten good.”

“You’re.... disgusting,” you sneer as you wriggle in his grasp.

“Oh, you’re about to find out how right you are,” he snickers and pushes his crotch against you. “One fucking lick at a time.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #drabble #december daze #navy and roo's sleepover #the gray man

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sweetvoidstuff · 1 year ago

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Soulbound II Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Written for @neohumanmonster Valentine's Event

Tropes: Soulmate Marks

Cha Hyun Su x Reader

Summary: You are on a quest to find your soulmate, Cha Hyun Su, amidst the chaos of monstrous transformations it leads to an unexpected alliance and a bond that defies the darkness consuming the world.

Potential trigger warnings: Themes of apocalypse, monstrous transformations, loss of loved ones, grief, existential despair, and emotional turmoil.

Masterlist

~~~~~

In a world that is at its last leg, where humanity teetered on the brink of extinction due to a mysterious affliction that turned individuals into monstrous beings fueled by their strongest desires, you embarked on a journey to find your soulmate, someone called Cha Hyun Su. It was a quest born from the innocent discovery of his name etched on your wrist on your 14th birthday, that happens to everybody. A revelation that ignited a desire to learn the foreign language on your skin and seek him out once you were of age.

Years later, as you finally set foot in the distant land where you hoped your soulmate resided, the world around you plunged into madness. Humans began transforming into grotesque creatures, their desires mutating them beyond recognition and manifested in grotesque transformations, twisting individuals into monstrous beings. It hadn't been two weeks since your arrival when the first cases of monstrous transformation began to surface. Yet, your determination to find Hyun Su remained unwavering, even as the whispers of transformation echoed in your own soul.

Despite experiencing symptoms of transformation yourself, your determination to find your soulmate eclipsed the monstrous urges clawing at your soul. You became a half-monster, straddling the line between humanity and monstrosity as you navigated the perilous landscape in search of your Soulmate. Your own voice mocking your wish to find your soulmate at every stepp on your journey, but you were determined. You wouldn’t let yourself turn, wouldn’t die in a foreign country, not till you saw him. You hadn’t put yourself throw all this hardship for your other half to simply take the easy way out. But her laughter, that he might have, that all your sacrifice are in vain got to you.

Amidst the desolation, you encountered a lone survivor, a man who had lost his own soulmate to the darkness consuming the world. His tale weighed heavy on your heart, threatening to extinguish the flicker of hope that burned within you. But you pressed on, driven by the promise of love and companionship.

Days turned into nights, and the lines between friend and foe blurred in the merciless wilderness. You formed an unlikely alliance with the lone survivor, finding solace in each other's company as you shared stories of loss and longing. Together, you braved the dangers lurking around every corner, clinging to the hope that your soulmate awaited you somewhere in the chaos.

Returning to your makeshift camp one evening, you witnessed a heartbreaking scene unfold before your eyes. A girl, her face contorted with fear, pushed away your companion. All you could do was to watch helplessly as he succumbed to the monstrous transformation within seconds.

The night air was thick with tension as you stood, tears streaking down your cheeks, confronted by the reality of your friend's transformation. His once-human form twisted and contorted, consumed by the darkness that now ruled the world. Anguish and rage warred within you as you struggled to comprehend the cruelty of fate.

The girl responsible for his transformation stood before you, her expression a mix of fear and defiance. But your grief drowned out any semblance of reason, leaving only a burning desire for retribution. You moved towards her, fueled by a primal need to lash out at the injustice that had stolen your friend from you.

But before you could act, a figure emerged from the shadows, his presence commanding attention. His voice cut through the chaos like a knife, halting your advance with a single word: "Enough."

You turned towards him, your anger still smoldering beneath the surface. "Enough?" you spat, your voice thick with emotion. "Look at him! She turned him! He was a person! He was my friend."

Tears continued to flow unabated as you struggled to articulate the depth of your sorrow. The weight of loss threatened to crush you, but you refused to yield to despair. You had come too far, fought too hard to let tragedy define you.

The boy before you watched, his expression a mirror of your own heartache. His eyes burned with a fierce intensity, as if trying to convey a message that words alone could not express. And then, almost hesitantly, he spoke.

"I am sorry," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Your anger flared anew at his apology, the injustice of it all too much to bear.

„Sorry doesn’t really cut it. He…“ fighting the tears, you continued. „He was fighting. It was hard, but he was holding on, trying. Even after his soulmate turned. Now he is just, flesh trapped by his desire. Just keep her away from me!“ you said. But as you wiped away your tears, you felt a spark of recognition deep within your soul but brushing it away, angryly starting to pack your stuff. The boys eyes burned at your movement, his expression mirroring the anguish in your heart. Watching every muscle you moved. With a trembling voice, he quietly called out your name, and you looked up, shock written across your face. The name etched on your skin suddenly felt heavier, more significant than ever before.

You looked up at him, your gaze locking with his own. His eyes held a mixture of hope and fear, as if uncertain of what your reaction would be. And then, with a voice filled with equal parts disbelief and longing, you spoke his name.

"Cha Hyun Su?"

He nodded slowly, his expression one of quiet acceptance. It was him. Your soulmate. The realization washed over you like a wave, sweeping away the doubts and fears that had plagued you for so long.

Hyun Su’s heart clenched at the sight of your tears, the weight of your journey etched in every drop that fell from your eyes. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out hesitantly, as if afraid you might vanish before his eyes. But you remained rooted to the spot, unable to tear your gaze away from him.

People had made fun of the foreign name on his arm. A lazy foreigner he would never even have the chance to meet they said. But now you were here bevor him, at practically the end of the world, alive and well and speaking his language. “I didn’t know you were still alive. Or even this close to me,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with equal parts disbelief and relief.

You sniffled, trying to compose yourself as a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm you. “You have no idea what hell I walked through to find you,” you admitted, your voice trembling with raw emotion.

But despite the tears staining your cheeks, there was a glimmer of hope in your eyes, a sense of peace that came with finally finding your soulmate amidst the chaos.

Hyun Su reached out tentatively, his hand trembling as it hovered in the air between you. His gaze flickered with uncertainty, his mind filled with doubts and fears about what you might think of him now that his true nature was revealed.

"I... I don't know if I'm safe to be around," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm... I'm not fully human anymore."

Your heart ached at the pain and insecurity reflected in his eyes. Gently, you took his hand in yours, offering him a reassuring smile.

"It doesn't matter," you said softly, your voice filled with conviction. "Nowhere is safe anymore, and you are my soulmate. I just want to finally get to know you. I want to find out myself who you are."

His breath caught in his throat at your words, the weight of your acceptance washing over him like a soothing balm. Slowly, hesitantly, he closed the distance between you, his hand enveloping yours in a gentle embrace.

"You... you're not afraid of me?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You shook your head, your gaze unwavering as you met his eyes.

"No," you replied firmly. "I'm not afraid. In fact, I've been trying to hold onto my humanity, to stay true to myself, all because I wanted to meet you, my soulmate."

A flicker of emotion passed across his features, a mixture of awe and gratitude.

"You... you are like me?" he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Yes," you said, squeezing his hand gently. "And now that we've found each other, nothing else matters."

His doubts began to melt away in the warmth of your acceptance, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and belonging. With a sense of determination burning in his heart, he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours.

"I'm here now," he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath against your skin. "And I'm not letting you go."

Your heart swelled with love and gratitude as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. Together, you knew you could face whatever challenges lay ahead, united by a bond that transcended the darkness consuming the world. In each other's embrace, you found solace and strength, ready to take on whatever the future held.

#cha hyun su x reader #sweet home netflix #sweet home x reader #cha hyun soo #cha hyun soo x reader #cha hyunsu #sweet home #sweet home imagines #kdrama #song kang #cha hyun su #cha hyunsoo #sweet home 2 #hyun su #hyun soo #one shot

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forhappysake · 5 months ago

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You Live(d) There Too

Author's Note: We're getting angsty😜 Sorry guys I was bored and had some free time. My brain produced this *not proofread* monstrosity.

Summary: You've been left in the dark about the events that led to Spencer's release from prison. When he comes to take you home, you can't find it in yourself to go with him.

Warnings: spencer x reader, BAU-level violence, season 12 spoilers, mentions of kidnapping and weapons, established relationship, angst with no happy ending (sorry)

You stared up at the ceiling, dazed by the events of the day.

One minute, you’d been at Spencer’s apartment. The nurse had come to relieve you. Diana waved you goodbye. You’d gone to work.

The next minute, Diana was gone. The nurse was gone. You couldn’t get ahold of anyone and Luke was dragging you out of Spencer’s place. Penelope begged you to stay in her apartment with your eyes and ears open.

That was twelve hours ago. You’d gotten the sense that her push for vigilance meant bad things were happening. When Luke dropped you off at her place, he’d left you with his gun. You weren’t even sure how to use it, and the weight of it in your hands made you absolutely sick.

You thought about calling, but you knew better. You lay on her bed, listening to every creak in the building. You thought of Diana in her frail state and your eyes watered. You weren’t even sure what someone might want with her.

Spencer would never forgive you for this.

Just as you were about to attempt to call Penelope for news, you heard it. The distinct sound of footsteps outside her door. You sat up on the bed, reaching for the weapon left on the side table.

You stood up from the bed, rounding the corner into her hallway putting you in direct sight of the door. The room was dark, and you could barely make out the shape of the door before you. Your hands trembled as you raised the gun at the doorway, unsure of who might step inside. After a moment, the lock clicked and the door swung open.

A figure loomed in the doorway, the light from the hallway creating a silhouette and obstructing your view of them. You remained silent, still aiming the gun at the intruder. Your eyes adjusted, and you could make out a single arm reaching around the wall for a light switch.

The light filling the room caused you to squint your eyes. You gasped when you regained focus and could make out the man in front of you. “Spencer,” you gasped.

He looked up at you, his appearance disheveled and his eyes wide.

You remembered yourself at that moment and panicked. You dropped the gun, it clattered on the floor as you approached him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked breathlessly. You were sure you must be dreaming, your brain playing some cruel trick on you as it had several times before.

Your eyes connected with his own as tears swam in his vision. “It’s over.” He said it so simply as if it was just a matter of fact. “I’m out.”

“Your mom?” you questioned.

Spencer nodded. “They found her. She’s fine. I’ve checked her into the hospital for the night, just in case the medics missed anything. They’re going to watch her.”

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” you said, shaking your head. “I haven’t been told anything. I’ve been here for hours.” Your whole body was shaking now, the stress and exhaustion of the last day taking over.

You struggled to speak. “Now you’re here. I don’t even know if you’re really here or if this is another dream. I just feel so confused.”

The tears welled up in his eyes began running down his cheeks. Spencer reached an arm out to you, beckoning you to sit down on the couch between the two of you.

You did as directed, and he set himself on the arm of the couch, turning to face you. Your hands trembled as you folded and unfolded them in your lap.

“I will give you answers soon,” Spencer explained, his eyes focused on you. “As soon as we wake up in the morning. I’ll tell you everything. But not tonight. We both have to rest tonight.”

You shook your head again. “Spencer, we have nowhere to go besides here. Your apartment is some crime scene-”

He waved a hand, silencing you. “It’s been processed. Since the case is over we can go back.”

We.

“I don’t-” you sputtered. “Are you sure you want me to go back with you?”

Spencer looked almost offended. “Of course you’re coming back with me, why wouldn’t you? You live there too.”

You looked at the floor, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You felt his eyes on you, reading you like an open book. A look of realization came over his face.

“You don’t live there anymore, do you?” he asked. Spencer didn’t quite sound hurt, but seemed nearly defeated as his shoulders drooped forward even more.

You sighed and shook your head. “No, since this whole thing started I’ve only stayed intermittently to watch your mom of an evening. I’ve been living in a new apartment across town.”

Spencer stood from the couch, pacing back and forth slowly. “So you don’t want to go back to the apartment with me?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Not really, Spencer. The place just unsettles me at this point.”

He stopped in his tracks, turning to look at you. “You used to say it was your favorite place on earth.”

You shrugged. “Things changed, Spencer. When you went away I felt like someone was always watching me there. Now, after all this, I know I wasn’t totally wrong. Can you blame me for not wanting to return?”

Spencer put his hands to his face, muffling his words. “We’ll work it out. I’ll let the lease run up. We’ll go somewhere else.”

There was an awkward pause.

“You could just come to stay with me,” you offered warily.

He clocked your tone of voice immediately, narrowing his eyes at you. “But you don’t really want that, do you?”

You scoffed in an attempt to hide the truth. “What makes you say that?”

“I’ve been here, in front of you, for the first time in three months without some kind of physical barrier between us and you haven’t so much as attempted to put a hand on me.” He seemed to be growing agitated, his hand fidgeting with the end of his tie.

You couldn't defend yourself. He wasn't wrong. He took your silence as an answer.

“You don’t even want me anymore, do you?” Spencer said quietly.

You flinched at the implication of his words. The tears that had been clouding your vision were streaking down your cheeks now. “No, it's just that - Spencer, it’s been months. I don’t know who you are anymore. I just don't feel comfortable going with you right now.”

Spencer stopped dead in his tracks. You could already feel your guilt seeping in because of your harsh words. His tears were visible as he cleared his throat to limit the crack in his voice when he spoke. “Spencer, I didn’t mean to imply that-”

He shook his head. “I get it. I’ll go.”

Spencer walked briskly towards the door, shoes thumping hard against the wooden floor with each step. He paused in the door frame, turning to look at you once more.

“We will work this out,” he said. For the first time since he arrived, you looked at him. Really looked at him. He offered you a sad smile. “I’m sorry for everything. I’ll make this better for us. I promise.”

He turned away, slipping out the apartment door and shutting it with a firm thud behind him. For the first time in three months, you let yourself utter a broken sob into Penelope’s otherwise quiet apartment.

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hocuspocusbabyy · 9 months ago

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I’m sorry but just IMAGINE Eloise and Cressida as parents?!

Cressida would 100% be a full blown PTA mum, planning all the best events for her children’s school.

Eloise would inevitably be dragged along to help decorate and somehow end up agreeing the directing the school play - because she’s read the book a MILLION times! And “Couldn’t possibly let them butcher it.”

They’d have two daughters and a son. Aged, 5, 3 and 6 months. Lunet, Maeve and Benedict Jr.

Eloise would try sneaking treats that Cressida had baked for a fundraiser. Getting caught with frosting on her mouth, she swears blind to her wife she a no idea where it came from.

Cressida baking special cookies just for Eloise to eat! 😭

Eloise would read to the children every night, Cressida insisting she’s just there to tuck them in but ultimately sat across the bottom of the bed to listen too.

Cressida will often insist Eloise continues reading despite the fact the kids are already asleep, and they will have to reread that chapter again the next evening!

Uncle Benedict would love taking care of the children so their mothers may enjoy a walk or weekend alone 🥹 “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Though I suppose that doesn’t leave a lot.”

Uncle Colin and Aunt Pen would already arrive with an array of wonderful gifts. Eloise has a shelf of trinkets, many from Cressida and her family. Stemming from rocks, sea shells and pressed flowers to tiny figurines and bottles of sand from Colin’s travels.

Eloise secretly adores that Cressida insists on hanging Benedict’s painting’s in their home.

Eloise will often return home to Cressida and Violet sharing tea in the garden - Violet cannot go more than a few days without visiting her grandchildren.

Aunt Daphne and Cressida would take great pride in buying the children the cutest shoes and outfits - much to Eloise’s dismay when she finds her youngest in a ‘hideous’ bonnet. “Well what has she got this monstrosity on her head for? Oh my sweet girl don’t worry mummy will protect you from the taffeta.”

Eloise often getting emotional when spending time alone with her wife and children, free of any distractions. Forgoing her book to simple watch Cressida and their toddler play in the grass with wooden blocks.

Cressida tired at the breakfast table a child on either knee, as Elouise and their eldest read the newspaper out loud. Gently kissing their temples and stirring her tea.

Eloise and Cressida often indulging in a sneaky cigarette together at the end of a long week. Hidden out on the balcony to their room - their children fast asleep in the next room. Often shushing one another when their giggling threatens to wake them.

Eloise nearly having a ‘heart attack’ seeing her child on a horse for the first time, insisting her wife is insane and she’d prefer both ‘her girls’ back on the ground.

Cressida being the good cop, Eloise bad cop in many matters. I truly believe Cressida would be the biggest softy towards their children.

Eloise helping the children with their school work, whilst Cressida knits across the room (Cressida is utterly no help academically.)

Violet often insisting on taking the children for the evening because her home is simply ‘too big’ and Cressida and Eloise are ‘still young’.

Cressida and Eloise often opting to enjoy their meals in the form of picnic. Packing up the children to spend the evening down by the river.

Cressida rolling up her sleeves and teaching the children to skim stones.

Eloise sat waiting to aid them all in drying off when they’re done. The baby resting upon her chest.

Eloise often scolding Cressida more than the children, her wife simply brushing her off with terms of endearment or a kiss.

Cressida taking birthdays very seriously, waking up early to decorate the house. They keep Violets birthday hat tradition well alive. Eloise made her one their first birthday spent together and she still has it. Violet cried when they did the same for her.

The entire family often visit for long weekends and dinners - Eloise and Cressida opted to live in the country where there is more privacy and space for them.

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myonlinetrashcan · 11 days ago

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MADNESS - Albert Wesker x Fem! Reader

Words: 2.3k

Summary: Wesker tries to erase Umbrella by any means, and finds an old abandoned headquarters that has a lot of evidence that could be a nuisance in the future, and just so happens to discover that Reader will also be going. Having a meeting after the events of RE1.

CW: A bit of angst, flashbacks, I don't know if it's entirely canon but yeah, Wesker is in love in his own twisted way LMAO.

The cold fluorescent lights were even more irritating than their own hum and the humidity of the place, but nothing compared to the smell of pharmaceuticals.

You began to inspect every abandoned desk filled with pure illegality in reports, folders and loose papers with data from what was once a corrupt corporation at its most full of secrets, secrets that cost you that radical change in your life.

But you had to stay positive, at least you had been lucky to survive those two nights in what was left of Raccoon City. However, it was hard to stay that way when you saw the two-tone umbrella logos every time you blinked. It was like a subliminal message that was slowly getting into your brain.

Everything was going backwards, you saw yourself going back in time, younger and more in debt, more ignorant of everything. You just couldn't get those memories out of your mind, and so, something full of resentment made your brain start to make your head throb.

The corridors were long, the tables were one more cluttered than the other, the office equipment from that time was covered in dust and, above all, things like personal objects that seemed intimate to the former workers seemed abnormal in the sterile environment.

Like them, he also used to replicate such behaviors, such as possessing small intimate fragments turned into material objects of each member as a reminder that they were just pieces on a game board. Those used to rest on a shelf, either photos, or small memories that had been deposited with respect, affection and trust.

A small lump began to form in your throat, but you immediately avoided it, thinking that you were on duty, that you had to put everything aside and focus, but how? You had tried very hard to let it go. But that feeling was swallowing you whole.

You finally arrived at what looked like a practice-only area, filled with chemicals and components that were already somewhat familiar to you. You scanned the lab room to spot your target, a small but powerful USB flash drive.

And now, when you saw that lifeless but powerful object clink, shining in the middle of the darkness of the place, you could see the light, and you understood what it meant. It contained all the information that one of the founders of Umbrella did not put into the mother computer that used to be called Red Queen, destroyed time ago. It contained original, unedited plans, something so important that if it fell into the wrong hands, it could be the inspiration for chaos.

Suddenly a step, that sounded like it had been accidentally on purpose, echoed in the area and without nerves you turned with your AR-24, with an eagle eye you began to see who or what your target would be.

And it would have been much easier if it were one of those monstrosities that sick people created in these places years ago. But oh boy, your eyes went wide open and you felt your blood run cold. In front of you, a ghost of a tragic past.

A tall, slender, handsome yet characteristically dominant figure stepped out of the darkest part, emerging in a black suit and formal coat, no weapons, no extras, just him looking just as he left you. Elegant, handsome and irresistible.

In surprise you almost dropped the gun, your shocked expression was nothing compared to the stoic, emotionless face that was analyzing you from head to toe, as if he was a damn machine, trying to detect a threat, and of course he did not find one.

"Long time no see," the cold, dry voice came from the lips that once gave you the sweetest kisses and the sweetest, most murderous words. It was as if time stood still, and gave you the chance to make the same mistakes again.

He took a step forward, and out of inertia you took the gun with new confidence. Your expression hardened immediately, memories flooding back and making your mouth bitter. With a frown you were able to tell him full of courage.

“What are you doing here? Answer me,” you swallowed the sentimentality and the desire to hug him and beg him to deign to listen. You could feel the endless headaches, the ink of the photos turned to pieces in your hands, the cold you felt from not having him in your bed every night, all that and more. Nostalgia felt like a punishment.

“Same as you, I suppose.” His fine leather gloved hand walked over a free surface, then wiped away the dirt left between his fingertips, his voice flat and unconcerned. His eyes returned to yours, although the barrier of the material of his glasses separated them. "Although not with the same purpose."

The terrible feeling that you had been right was not at all comforting. You knew he was alive, you had felt it in your bones after the incident at the mansion.

His voice in the early morning, telling you that he was thinking of you...

You didn't know if what was trying to keep you sane was professionalism, or impotence. Or what perhaps none of you were foolish enough to accept that was keeping you afloat.

You didn't lower the gun, you wouldn't be stupid, not again.

“Hmm,” he muttered as he found a spot. Before you could fire a shot to scare him off, he reacted with abnormal speed, grabbing your wrist and knocking the gun away with a sharp movement. In an instant, he had you in a headlock, bending you against the surface you had walked across minutes before.

You weren't far behind. You pulled out your knife in an attempt at a distraction and stabbed him in the thigh. You knew it wouldn't have much effect, but at least it would get him to react. A growl escaped his lips just before you lunged at him, snatching the gun from his hands.

But you didn't have time to enjoy your small victory. Before you knew it, he was already on his feet again, with you in the air. He held your arm firmly and took the gun, inspecting it with an irritating calm.

“You know, I’m not one for nostalgia, but it’s amazing to look back and remember all our pointless fights… They were so stupid and out of place,” you acknowledged the perverse apology that fell from his lips. He wasn’t one to do so, but you recognized that the admission came with regret.

“Don’t you think that the time for apologies has come too late?” you thought out loud, the gun falling to the other side of the room. You gasped, struggling to free yourself. But it wasn’t about continuing the fight anymore. You didn’t want those memories to invade you again, the false hugs, the caresses full of lies.

No. You weren’t going to let him tear you down at will again.

Connecting glances as only you could do, you indirectly gave him your point of view "Now I know what you meant…”

There wasn't as much dialogue as you thought there would be, after all, he had you accustomed to action.

Without wasting any more time, you pulled out the USB drive and connected it to the device that transferred the information to your phone. But he was faster. He slammed you hard against the wall, knocking the air out of your lungs.

The audacity of the blow ignited your fury. You took advantage of the momentum to spin on your axis, propelling yourself with your leg against the concrete. He didn't have time to react when you pushed him towards one of the shelves full of chemicals.

Without missing a beat, you nimbly jumped onto a table, making sure the data transfer continued. You saw him pull himself together, his gaze fixed on you like a predator stalking its prey.

"That's not how I taught you to fight, I thought you would show me what you accomplished in STARS and what's new in BSAA, I'd like to see how you got this far, rookie," he stressed, his voice now echoing in my head. Stepping out into the bright, hot hallways that made your skin sweat, you saw him blocking one of the exits.

You didn't respond. Instead, you ran into the hallways lit by incandescent light. The heat made you sweat, but you ignored the discomfort. Only one thing mattered: the exit. However, as you turned the corner, you saw that he blocked one of the doors.

You felt like you were short of breath with each step, and that your heart was racing to the beat of his steps, rhythmically perfect. And you could have blamed the lack of oxygen in your lungs and the excess of physical activity along with the nerves of the information still loading.

But your eyes were tearing up, treacherous, warm, fat drops, that made you not feel them on your hot cheeks. The tension in your shoulders and face was more than evident.

You both reached the end of the hallway, where the exit was reduced to two options: a blocked door to your right and, to your left, a dangerous void where the structure of the building was exposed by unfinished renovations. The remains of a demolished wall revealed rusty steel beams and a drop of several meters that ended in a floor covered in debris and abandoned tools.

It was there, in that narrow and lethal space, where he finally cornered you. Your back hit the cold surface of the closed door as he calmly advanced, his steps echoing on the dusty concrete. With no other escape route, you only had to face him or risk falling into the void.

You tried to slip away, the fear of him seeing your vulnerability after so many years clouding your thoughts. But in your haste, your foot slipped on the dusty edge, causing you to fall abruptly. You managed to grab onto a metal structure—a narrow iron bridge that creaked under your weight, rusted and wobbly from lack of maintenance.

He fell too, but unlike you, he did it on purpose. He dropped with eerie precision. With calculated steps, he began to move forward, forcing you to move towards an even steeper and more dangerous area. Every time you took a step, the bridge shook, as if it threatened to collapse at any moment.

"I've seen the end of this place, and so have you..." his voice was never threatening, and that was what had made the matter worse "I'm not expecting you to understand, I'm not expecting you to care," he took your other weapons, and you could only cry, panting and complaining more, your hands shaking more than your entire body leaving you weak and in mercy.

"You know better than anyone that this is the only option." he whispered, but trying to defend yourself you were about to fall, the pen drive, now that it had fulfilled its purpose, deactivated and came out of your pocket in a swift motion. You immediately took it in your hand and staggered dangerously in a meeting with death.

But he held you

He took you in his arms gently and gave you the device, not even destroying it or throwing it in the air. knowing that that device was not only sent to the entire BSAA, but also destroyed all the valuable information for which you thought he had come. months wanting to find it and finally in your hands.

"Don't cry." He murmured, sitting you down in an area where the concrete gave you something to rest on, a solid base similar to the one you were being admitted to, your safe place.

His big, strong arms left you on his lap and surrounded your back and waist, caring for you as if you were a small child he had an obligation to calm down. "I didn't come to do anything to you, I wont hurt you, please, stop crying."

He took off his shades, you recognized the shape of his eyes; tired and softened just for you. But those orbs were no longer the same blue, almost grayish pools that made you melt, they destroyed you with the new yellow with reddish tones, and too much.

You brought your head to his chest, sobbing in submission, needing for this to be a nightmare, that it had to end right away and deep in your heart, you just wished it was a dream, one that would let you go home with him, without a lesson to learn, with a long and happy ending.

"Forgive me rookie, forgive your captain" he said, kissing your forehead, closing his eyes not wanting to scare you anymore “Please don't cry, I can't stand it.”

He removed the working headphones, the microphone brushing against your lips and reminding you which side of ethics you were on, and by instinct, you would have screamed to your operatioanl team to come and see you, to rescue you.

Unlike you, he wanted to make the dream a reality and make the nightmare just a what if. This wasn't about Umbrella or the BSAA, STARS or any mess you both had to do with, this was just about him and you.

"Yes I know, I know I can be wrong, but I just need you to come with me. Can you do that for me my rookie? Please?" he whispered, caressingly needy as much as you for that last confirmation, the man down bad as you.

You tried not to say it, not wanting to let your whole life change once again for whoever had done this to you.

But you knew your relationship was stronger.

You agreed and felt the thin lips land in a saving kiss, One that both knew would be the other's downfall, that would make the darkest shade and the lightest one come together, making a vile gray morality.

But after all, you both knew what your love was like.

mamamammama- madness JAJAJAJ, I hope you liked it because it's the first time I've written completely by myself without any help from Pinterest, and I think I've improved a bit (?) anyway, English isn't my thing, it's based on the song Madness by the group Muse, I think it projects very well the structure and order that is Wesker and how they both know that they are doomed to failure in their mission, but their love happens. This btw is not far from a chapter of the series that I forgot (oop) take care!

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thisisourlovestory · 1 year ago

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Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Word count- 2.8k

Notes: Happy New Year! Hope you enjoy this one. My phone deleted half of it so I had to rewrite it but that worked in my favour and I think it’s better than it was

Chapter 3

The next morning I was awoken by knocking at my door. Assuming it to be Lysander I ignored it and took my sweet time getting ready, taking a long shower under burning water, brushing my teeth vigorously, loosely clipping back the front strands of my hair and slipping on a pale blue dress from the wardrobe in the wall before making my way to the dining area. I followed the smell of freshly cooked bacon and pancakes, my mouth watering as I sat down and took a few pancakes, stacking them up, cutting a slab of butter that melted as soon as I dropped it on top, drizzling sticky sweet syrup over them and layering bacon on top. I grabbed a fork and dug into my towering pillar of food, the salty bacon contrasting with the sugary syrup. I polished it off in no time at all and reached for the piles of jewel like fruits, stacked in tiny ceramic bowls in the centre of the table. I had just bit into a slice of watermelon, pink juice dripping down the corner of my mouth, when Mags walked in with Lysander who flaunted a garish purple and gold striped suit and he began to speak as loudly as ever as I quickly wiped my chin.

“Good morning!” My head hit the table.

“Goodness Y/N, did you not get enough sleep last night?” He asked, looking at me with slight concern.

“I'm fine thank you for asking,” I answered, “Just woke up a bit too early.” I rubbed my head, smiling sheepishly and his gaze softened.

“That simply won't do!” He exclaimed, “We need you to be on top form for when you’re in the arena.”

“Lysander.” I called out softly, interrupting what was sure to be a long tirade. “I… I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for my outburst yesterday. I don't know what I was thinking. I suppose, well I suppose I was just a little overwhelmed by all this. I hope you can forgive me. “ I twisted a strand of my hair in my fingers and he took the bait immediately. I could almost see what he was thinking. Such a kind girl, she must be terrified, very sweet of her to apologise. His eyes gained a look of sympathy as he raised a hand to his heart and walked over to me.

“It's quite alright dear, no need for apologies. I completely understand you must be feeling absolutely terrified of all this. You did such a kind thing volunteering for Miss Cresta, so selfless, dear and I’m sure she appreciates it very much.” I nodded, going back to my food, and he clapped. “Now that's all sorted out, we need a plan for you.” He looked me up and down, assessing me as Mags grinned into her bowl at the look on my face. “I'm thinking we play the innocent card, the fact you were so young when you won will help with that a lot. You are one of the youngest in the games this year after all. We simply must also use the fact that you are a true performer and ballet is such a beautiful art form indeed so,” he turned to Mags, “I propose we paint her as an angel.”

I choked on a piece of watermelon, the apprehension on my face giving way to horror. Mags patted me gently on the back and I straightened in my seat, sending a grateful smile her way as Lysander continued, lost in his own world.

“Of course only your stylist can decide this but I’m fairly certain I can put in a word and if they didn't already have the same idea after watching the reaping then I'll eat my hat.” I eyed the purple monstrosity on his head and imagined it being stuffed into his mouth, wondering if maybe that would be the thing that would finally shut him up. I wanted to scream at him, tell him that I was no angel and he was a monster for finding some kind of pleasure in this, deciding what part I should play as I die. Instead I just smiled slightly and lowered my head to stop him from seeing the tears in my eyes. At that second Finnick walked in and Lysander's attention was immediately drawn to him. I sat silently as he practically interrogated him, asking how he was feeling, if he thought he could win. The answers were short, not letting anything interesting slip but giving enough to satisfy Lysander and fool him into thinking he was basically his new best friend. I zoned out part way through Lysanders rant about what the Gamemakers would throw at us this year- as if we hadn't all been thinking about it since they were announced. Suddenly, I was brought back to reality by the sound of my name.

“Y/N, Y/N.” I blinked and my gaze shifted to Lysander.

“Sorry.” I muttered

“Quite alright dear, you must be tired if you didn't get enough sleep. We're going to watch the games you were both in, for reference.” My mind didn't register the words and I simply nodded before I realised what he had said and my eyes widened in shock.

We watched Finnicks first, since he won before me. From the reaping all the way through to the crowning ceremony. He was confident in the interviews, dressed in the most impeccable suit and tie, clearly designed to show off his beauty, laughing at Caesar Flickerman's comments and responding with his own witty quips, not just a pretty face at all. Then utterly deadly in the arena. For the first few days he had lain low, not much excitement but enough to keep sponsors interested. Then he got the trident, the most expensive gift ever seen, and it was over. District 4 was fishing after all, and it seemed Finnick Odair was born to wield the trident. He captured tribute after tribute in a net and killed them all, offering no mercy. And finally the last cannon went off announcing him the winner. Fourteen years old and he had won, the youngest victor, the most handsome victor, the Capitol darling. Finnick Odair. If he was that good back then, I had no doubt he would be extraordinary now. He had it all as well, the looks which first made the Capitol love him, he was intelligent, and undoubtedly one of the best fighters that would be going into the arena. Mags and I sat there speechless as Lysander congratulated Finnick endlessly.

“And how you used that trident, extraordinary! I don't believe you'll struggle in these games now that you've had ten years to practise.” I could only think of how young he'd been, how he'd been forced to grow up so quickly after, how he'd won- but what was the cost?

Then my games were switched on; I saw myself going through it all over again. The walk up to the stage after my name was called, all eyes on me. The chariot ride where they had dressed me up as a mermaid, all shimmering fabrics and a golden crown. The interview, where Caesar asked me questions about my life back home and I answered quietly, barely audible, playing the sweet little girl as I danced for them momentarily. The arena, my frightened face as the boy from 10 died in front of me, running and hiding. Then a cut to as I made my first kills, I saw the light leave their eyes as the blood left their bodies. Another cut, to the chase and confrontation with Arion, the second the knife left my hand I closed my eyes and the thud as it hit him echoed in my ears.

They showed the crowning ceremony last, I stood calmly on the dais with my hands clasped in front of my body. I had been made to wear a white dress that fell to my knees and had a red bow tied around it. The same red adorned the pins in my hair, shaped like roses, and the single gem hanging from a silver chain around my neck. The significance was not lost on me, young as I was. I had killed three people in the arena so I wore three pieces of red. One for each of them, the crimson colour their blood on my hands. President Snow walked up slowly and placed the golden laurels on my head. He looked down at me, a small smile on his face as I gazed up at him, he whispered something that only I could hear. Words that left me pale and confused, words that could have been good but in the circumstances only sounded like the promise of a life of pain. His mouth moved on the screen and I read his lips.

“The Capitol will love you.” He stepped away and proclaimed me their victor. And it struck me how I looked so tiny compared to him and everyone around me, as the Capitol roared with applause and my big eyes stared out over them, disbelieving and uncertain before the tape ended leaving the compartment in silence.

I shoved my seat back, the legs screeching on the floor, and stood up quickly. Everyone turned to face me as I stayed still for a second.

“Y/N.” Lysander began but I cut him off.

“No, I just, I need to, I can't.” My brain was jumbled, old memories being dragged to the surface unwillingly. So I turned and I ran.

I sprinted along the train, pushing doors open as I ran through the compartments. Avoxes jumped out of my way as I barreled past them, looking at me in curiosity. I came to the end of the train and held my hands in front of me to push through the doors. I crashed through them and fell into the railing. I gripped onto the cold metal as if it was the only thing keeping me in reality, the wind rushed past me and my hair floated in front of me, strands whipping in the cold air. I could barely see, tears blurring my vision and hair covering my face. I took a shuddering breath, letting the cold air flood my lungs, and I broke. I cried and cried and cried. Letting out everything that I had kept bottled up for seven years. I had cried before, that day on the cliffs, that was for the games, for the fact that it was happening all over again for so many people across Panem. But this. This was for me. For every pain I had endured since I won, the evenings spent dancing and singing under lights focused solely on me, the fear of making a mistake stopping me from enjoying it fully, the nights spent alone, unable to sleep because of the nightmares, the days spent wandering around like a lost soul, wondering if it would ever be better than what it was.

So I cried for myself, in one selfish moment I allowed myself to only care about myself. Tears dripped down my face, droplets falling on the railing for what felt like forever. Eventually my throat grew raw and my eyes seemed to run out of tears to cry. I dropped my head forwards into my hands and my eyes glazed over with the memories I had suppressed.

I was no longer on the train headed to the Capitol. I was in the arena. Perched on an icy tree branch, pressed against the tree trunk to keep from slipping off. Hidden by the frozen leaves in the white fluffy clothing they had given us to wear. A tribute ran underneath my hiding spot, running away from something, two others followed chasing him. I immediately recognised them as career tributes, this was all just a game of cat and mouse to them. And they caught him. I shoved a piece of cloth in my mouth to stop myself from letting out any noise that would give myself away and clapped my hands over my ears to block out the noise of his screaming in pain and crying out for help from someone as they ripped into him, their laughter echoing in the otherwise silent forest. A warning that they were on the hunt and if you valued your life you would get out of there as soon as possible.

I had stayed in that tree for the first few days until I was eventually forced to move when the gamemakers released mutts into the arena. Great big slobbering beasts that lumbered along harmlessly until someone tried to kill one. Then all hell had broken loose as they chased tributes up trees and then hurled themselves unrelentingly at them, bringing them down and mauling them beyond recognition. They brought about the deaths of five tributes before they just disappeared, presumably called back out after doing their job.

I snapped out of my daze as I felt someone standing next to me. My gaze cleared as I pushed the memories back into a locked box in my mind. I didn’t need to look to know who it was, the mark on my wrist burning and on instinct I pulled my sleeve down and took a small step to the side to lessen the sting. It eased immediately from the small distance between us and faded to a dull throbbing. Finnick said nothing at my movement and we just looked out over the passing countryside, rolling green fields, trees that touched the sky and vast lakes stretching beyond the horizon. We stayed like that, peaceful, just taking it all in until he finally broke the silence.

“You were so young.”

I smiled bitterly, resting my chin on my open palm propped up on the railing.

“We all were but we had no choice. They just want to watch their games. And they don’t care if innocent children die so they can have them.” I laughed slightly. “Then they get the one that lives.” I shook my head, my fingers tightening on the rail, the cold metal biting into my skin. “They get to kill us then they get to keep us.” I turned around, leaning backwards onto the railing and looked up, watching the clouds move slowly away in the blue sea of the sky. Then the Capitol came into view, towering buildings taking up the skyline, marring it with grey,

“I'm going to go back in,” Finnick said, following my line of vision, “You should as well.” With that he stepped back into the train, not sparing a second glance as I watched him walk through a set of doors and out of sight. I relaxed as he left and stayed in my position, head tilted skywards, eyes closed until I felt tiny drops of water on my face. I opened my eyes to see rain falling, a light drizzle but enough to dampen my clothes and hair, I laughed slightly and walked inside, the warmth hitting me in a blast. I hadn't realised how cold I'd been before but the heat warmed me and my clothes quickly dried off. I looked over my shoulder as I walked through the doors that slid open, the rain pattering on the windows lightly, a last glimpse of normality.

I quickly made my way through the train, hearing Lysander screeching at unfortunate avoxes to find me as if I was missing and he had no idea where to find me. I stepped into the compartment to see him looking frazzled, he immediately caught sight of me standing unsurely at the edge of the room and gave a dramatic sigh of relief.

“Not to worry everyone she's here.” The train jolted to a stop. “We have arrived.” Lysander practically squealed and eyed me.” Dear, you should just fluff out your hair a bit, and try to look happy for the cameras.” I nod my head once and plaster a smile on my face. He nodded in approval.

We made our way to the doors. Finnick and I stood either side of Lysander and Mags was just behind us. I can see people through the windows already, screaming and shouting with excitement.

“Now everyone, remember this is the first time they will see you so make sure to leave a good impression. That means smile and wave, blow a few kisses if you have to.” Lysander told us, focusing his words mostly on me. A bell rang and he quickly turned around to me, perfecting everything he could see wrong, the tiniest hair out of place, my sleeves at different lengths and pushing my cheeks into a smile. Facing forward just in time as the doors slid open and we stepped out into the masses.

Taglist:

@nekee-lilac02 @hinata7346 @bambikitten @the-lonely-abyss @mxacegrey @m-maxie-ie @not-aya @camatchoum @maw1dk @avoxrising @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @somdreamy @thehairington86 @millzluvrs @val-writesstuff @erindiggory @reader-bookling123 @elisa20beth @maxinehufflepuffprincess @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @mystargirl-interlude @ponkaniee @missunicorn @purplelavin @user123453226780536 @littleanubis21

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick x you #catching fire #angst #finnick x reader #finnick odair x annie cresta #the hunger games #thg x reader #finnick angst #this is going somewhere I promise #at the moment it's literally just angst

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pedroshotwifey · 11 months ago

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To The Flame chapter twelve

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter w/c: 2.6k

Chapter warnings: mentions of physical abuse, manipulation, mental abuse, steve and connie!!, fluff but like backhanded fluff?, Javi being a dick, alcohol consumption, mild description of injury

Chapter Summary: Javi takes you out on your date and you meet some potential friends

A/N: Hey, y'all! Super excited about this one! These character introductions mean a lot to this story. Hope you like it! (also sorry about not posting last week, pls forgive me ❤)

*****

“Shit,” you mutter.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror, fixated on the ugly welt marring your right cheekbone. Your right eye is a bit swollen as well, but not too badly. You’re mostly worried about how the hell you’re going to hide the discoloring. Even with your makeup, it’s going to be a feat.

It makes your stomach twist up to remember last night’s events. You still don’t understand why you had chosen to freak out like that. It was completely immature and irrational. He was just worried about you and you chose to berate him for it.

Thankfully, Javi seems to have completely forgiven you for your outburst. He woke up as normal this morning, planted a kiss on your forehead, and made your breakfast. You smile to think about it. Despite everything that happened yesterday, everything today is back as it should be, just how you like it.

You sigh and turn the sink on. You’ll wash your face and get dressed, then worry about this monstrosity last. You’re excited for your date. Javi told you that he’ll be taking you to a small restaurant a few blocks from the apartment. He’s out running an errand right now, or so he said. He wasn’t very specific, but he did promise to be back in time for your dinner date.

You lean down and splash your face with the cool water, suppressing a wince as it hits your bruised flesh. You really didn’t realize the hit had landed that hard. You scrub it anyway, being careful to not press too hard. You don’t think Javi got a very good look at it this morning, which is probably a good thing. He’d likely be devastated to know he caused such an injury.

You finish washing your face and reach for your dress hanging on the back of the door. It’s one of Javi’s favorites, and you’re excited to finally have an excuse to wear it again. You slip it over your head and turn around to zip the back with the help of the mirror. You pull at the edge and smooth it out so it falls effortlessly just above your knees.

It’s a beautiful color in contrast with your skintone, hell, it’s a beautiful dress in general. You smile at your appearance in the mirror. It’s not often you feel confident, but this dress never fails to bring it out of you. Maybe that’s why Javi likes it so much, too.

You hear the front door open as you fix one of the sleeves of the dress, a smile spreading across your face at the sound. Javi calls your name in greeting and your stomach flutters.

“I’m in here,” you call back. His footsteps grow closer.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

You peek your head out from the bathroom, careful to hide your right side behind the door frame. Javi’s standing in the middle of the bedroom. He looks gorgeous—as usual. He’s wearing a blue button up with his jeans and his regular boots.

“Yup, I’ll be just a second.”

“Alright, baby, take your time. There’s no rush.” He sends you a wink.

You flash him a quick smile before ducking back in and cracking the door behind you. You pick up your compact and lean in close to the mirror. The first layer doesn’t do much at all. The second makes a small difference, and by the third, all that’s left is to touch up certain spots. Even then though, you know there’s nothing you can do about the swelling of your eye and one of the deeper bruises. You take a step back. It doesn’t look so bad when you’re not too close.

You sigh and finish up the rest of it, only putting everything away once you’re satisfied that you look pretty much normal. Like it’s any other date night. You turn the light off and step out of the bathroom.

“Javi?”

“In the kitchen, sweetheart.”

You follow his voice, finding him leaning against the kitchen counter and craning his neck slightly to look out the window.

You grin as you step into view, giving him a small twirl and watching his smile widen when his gaze lands on you. You do your best to hide your right side, but try to be casual enough that he won’t think that’s what you’re trying to do.

“You look gorgeous, baby,” he says, walking toward you with open arms.

You let him embrace you in a hug, wrapping your own arms around his middle as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you, Javi,” you mumble into his chest.

He lets you go after a moment and picks something up from the counter.

“Here, hermosa, got something for you” he offers you the bouquet of flowers. You gasp, sure that it’s the most beautiful bunch you’ve ever seen. That must have been why he went out. You’ll really never get over how thoughtful he is. It must have taken him a while to pick these out.

You beam at him as you take them in your hand. “Thank you,” you say again. He nods at you, warmth in his gaze as he watches you softly sniff the flowers. You look up when he clears his throat.

“Wanted to say I’m sorry,” he tells you, eyes flickering to and from yours. You frown a bit.

“It’s okay, Javi, I was the one acting up,” you assure him. You don’t want him to feel bad over something that wasn’t his fault. Just thinking about it puts a bad taste in your mouth. He’s much too sweet of a man to ever think that he’s done something wrong. You’re the childish one who threw a temper tantrum for no reason. It’s not fair for him to blame himself for what happened.

He nods solemnly, giving you a soft smile.

“I think we were both in the wrong there, sweetheart. I just don’t want it to happen again.”

Now it’s your turn to nod. You’re beaming inside at the fact that everything seems to be back to normal, but there’s also a sudden threat of tears pricking at your eyes and you’re not sure why. You look away, refusing to let them fall as you busy yourself putting them into a vase.

“Let me just put these in some water, and I’ll be ready,” you say as you turn on the sink.

****

You’re walking out the door minutes later, hand in hand with Javi as you try to contain the smile on your face. You’re way too excited about getting out. A part of you feels a bit guilty about getting your way after last night, but you suppose that Javi would have told you no if he thought it was really a bad idea tonight.

You stay silent and let him lead you downstairs, and you actually have to bite down on your lip to keep from full-on grinning when the evening air hits your face. It’s not too busy of a night, not many people out on the street at all. Still, Javi holds you close to his side as you make your way to the restaurant he was telling you about.

It’s not far, maybe a four or five minute walk from the complex. It’s small and cozy, exactly what you would hope for. He keeps his hand on the small of your back as you go to sit at an empty table, pulling your chair out for you and making sure you’re comfortable before sitting down in the seat across from you.

You smile at him as a waitress comes by and drops off a couple of menus. She takes your drink orders—a soda for you and a beer for Javi. You busy yourself with looking over the food options, failing to notice the way Javi’s started to stare at you.

His hand comes quickly across the table, making you flinch from surprise when he grabs your chin and tilts your head enough to see your right cheek.

“What’s this?” he demands.

You wince, really wishing you could have avoided this. You should have kept layering your makeup.

“”S from last night,” you mumble, ashamed even though you know you shouldn’t be. You just don’t want him to see what physical damage he may have done. He’ll tear himself up over it.

But he instead snaps, “And you didn’t fucking cover it?”

You’re taken aback, your head snapping away from his grasp. Shame fills you. Why can’t you just do something right for once? Tears again fill your eyes, only adding to your shame.

“I-I’m sorry, Javi,” you say quietly, staring at your hands in your lap. “I was just really excited to go out and—”

He sighs and leans back in his chair, cutting you off from your pointless excuse. “Just make sure nobody sees it,” he tells you. “Do you have any idea what that could do to me in my field of work?”

You nod, sniffing as your ears burn with embarrassment. Here he is taking you out and you ruin it by making another stupid decision. At least you’re not getting angry again. You have enough sense to keep that at bay.

You catch the waitress walking back with your drinks out of the corner of your eye and do your best to quickly collect yourself, giving her a warm, tear free smile when she sets your soda down in front of you. She smiles back and takes Javi’s order, which you order as well since you forgot to choose a dish for yourself.

You flash Javi a shy smile when she walks away, and, much to your relief, he gives you a small one in response. He’s still obviously not very thrilled with you, but at least he’s not straight mad.

“How have things been going at the house, baby?”

You know he means with renovations.

“They’re pretty good. Almost finished with all the painting and stuff. I might just need you to help me with some of the tile and cabinets.”

He nods. “Alright, I’ll see if I can get it done tomorrow.”

You nod back, trying not to be too tense. The conversation almost feels…awkward. It’s confusing. Luckily, the waitress comes quickly with your food, placing it in front of you and leaving you to it.

Conversation gets a bit better as the two of you eat. More casual and free-flowing.It’s not quite how it’s been the last few months, though. More like when the two of you had gone out together the first few times and had been a little shy. You brush it off though, sure that it won’t last too long. Even the two of you haven’t ever really been in a ‘post-fight’ situation yet, you believe that your chemistry is good enough for it to work itself out soon.

And it pretty much does by the time you’re finishing up your dinner. Javi’s smiling as you gush to him about a book you’re currently reading. It’s a very cute romance, one of the ones he’s brought you recently. He’s listening intently, happy to see your eyes light up with excitement.

The waitress comes back with the bill just as you’re telling him about the ending, and he hands his card over, along with a cash tip, as he continues to listen. It’s so nice to have someone who enjoys hearing about your interests. Before Javi, you can’t really remember having a person who would genuinely want to hear about your books.

You finish just as the waitress comes back, revealing the plot twist dramatically. His eyes widen with your reveal, both to indulge you but also probably a bit out of surprise because—in your opinion—it was a pretty insane plot twist.

But then his gaze darkens, pointed over your shoulder, and you frown.

“Javi?”

Your mouth is open to say his name, but it wasn’t you who said it. You snap your head around to see a couple walking toward you, the man smiling broadly. There’s a woman holding his hand, looking a little less enthusiastic than the man about seeing your husband.

You see Javi tense out of the corner of your eye as they reach your table. The man drops the woman's hand to round the table and clap Javi’s shoulder.

“What are you doing, you son of a bitch?” the man asks in a joking tone. “Thought you said you didn’t date.”

Javi’s jaw clenches as your brows furrow.

What?

“Uhm, yeah,” you supply, ignoring the way your stomach churns at the fact that he hadn’t mentioned you at all. “That may have something to do with the fact that he’s married.” You hold your left hand up, flashing your ring. The man’s light brows go up in surprise, a slight smirk overtaking his features. But then the smile drops and he shoots his gaze down to your husband.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he says slowly. “Didn’t think you were the type, Peña.” His tone is almost flat now. You don’t understand why it changed so quickly. Javi looks back up at him, a flicker of dark emotion that you can’t quite place showing in his eyes.

“Sweetheart,” Javi addresses you, keeping his eyes on the stranger. “This is Steve, my partner at work.”

He doesn’t talk about work much, but from what he’s told you about his partner, your understanding is that they get along pretty well. So you don’t quite understand the surge of hostility between the two of them right now.

You smile nonetheless, standing and reaching your hand out to him. You state your name. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He nods as he shakes your hand, giving you a tight smile in return. His expression is almost hard to read. He nods to the woman next to you. “That’s my wife, Connie.”

You turn to shake her hand as well, and you can tell you’ll immediately like her. She gives you a bright smile as well, telling you it’s nice to meet you. She seems very nice, but also like she wouldn’t be afraid to speak up for herself. You find yourself hoping that you’ll be able to see her again. Maybe be friends.

“We were just leaving,” Javi says from where he watches the two of you. Steve has taken a step back now, and is also watching you both with his arms crossed, though he doesn’t look mad, exactly. More like he’s contemplating something.

You frown though, having thought that you still had a little while before you had to go back.

“But—”

He flashes you a warning look, and you quiet down. Maybe you misunderstood him and he doesn’t like his partner. Either way, if he wants to go back, it’s probably for a good reason and you shouldn’t fight it. You nod at him instead, smoothing out your dress.

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” you say to Steve and Connie as Javi comes to your side and takes your arm in his.

“You, too,” Connie says, and Steve nods, another small smile offered as Javi starts to lead you out. You don’t turn to watch them as you leave, instead keeping your eyes on Javi, who has his on the exit.

“What was that about?” you ask.

He glances at you with a softer gaze than you’ve seen all night. Again, you can’t place the look.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he assures you and kisses the side of your head. So you don’t.

When the two of you get home, Javi cracks open another beer and holds you on the couch until you both fall asleep watching TV.

*****

You for reading! Taglist is always open!

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy @survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @callachloe @missladym1981 @sofiparallel @koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi @justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-b @solarecI1spe

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