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happybird16 · 2 years ago

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•Chapter Ten•

Naga!Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader

Summary: Growing up, the forest's edge always darkened the far corner of your small village. The giant, twisted branches overhead rendered the forest floor a terrifying, pitch black. You shouldn't be here. There's creatures here, dangerous ones.

Overall warnings: Past references to child abuse, blood, scars, gore, mystery, eventual sex, inhuman genitalia (Levi is a snake man), horror vibes.

Chapter warnings: NSFW!!!, Sex, inhuman genitalia, oral sex (fem!receiving), tongue-fucking, creampie, monsterfucking, tail-fucking, knotting, a lot of cum.

Chapter length: 12.5k

Ao3 Link

The most special of shoutouts to my beloved friend and beta @theferricfox!!!! Also, credit to @the-milk-anon for the snake banner!!

Note: Fun-fact I wrote this smut while listening to serial killer podcasts

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This time, the warm weather lingers. Spring bursts forth in a whirlwind of balmy temperatures, announcing its arrival with an exuberant chorus of chittering birds. The once-dormant landscape awakens with renewed energy as nature's vibrant palette comes alive, painting the world in hues of fresh green, delicate blossoms, and lively blooms. A gentle breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers, intermingling with the invigorating fragrance of earth and dew-kissed grass. With each passing day, the embrace of spring deepens.

The last of the snow melts over the course of three days, revealing a forest floor coated with half- decayed leaves and broken branches. The underbrush, once concealed beneath the snow’s frozen grasp, awakens with newfound vitality. Small bushes begin to sprout tender leaves, eager to soak in the warm sunlight. Alongside them, quickly blooming ferns unfurl their delicate fronds, adding touches of verdant green to the evolving scenery. These resilient plants find their place amidst the forest floor, spread intermittently in the few spots of light that manage to penetrate the forest’s dark canopy.

Amidst the lush forest floor, a vibrant sight catches the eye—a bright red cardinal gracefully hopping about, its movements brimming with energy and enthusiasm. With each nimble hop, it explores the underbrush, its beak pecking with eager curiosity. Standing in the narrow path of sunlight, the cardinal’s scarlet plumage stands out vividly against the backdrop of green foliage, like a flickering flame amidst the verdant tapestry of nature.

Its beady black eyes sparkle with a sense of purpose, scanning the ground for hidden treasures or delectable morsels concealed beneath fallen leaves and twigs. Its slender, pointed beak skillfully probes the earth, unearthing small insects or seeds that serve as its sustenance.

A stick snaps loudly beneath your foot, causing the bird's head to jerk in your direction. Sensing your presence, the bright red cardinal abruptly halts its delightful foraging and squawks loudly at your proximity. In a split second, the cardinal’s wings unfurl gracefully, stretching wide to catch the air. With a burst of energy, the cardinal takes flight, its wings beating with a rapid flurry. The once-hopping bird now becomes a fleeting vision, soaring through the trees in a panicked response to your nearness. Its brilliant red feathers quickly vanish into the forest's darkness.

"I didn't realize how beautiful The Maw is," you note in awe, your eyes trailing into the dark greenery ahead, attempting to catch glimpses of vibrant colors. On the forest floor, delicate purple and yellow flowers have started to bloom, their petals barely emerging from their green husks.

"You're just easily amused," the man by your side teases with a soft huff. "Stick close to the trees," Levi advises, his grip gently tugging at your elbow, guiding you forward. "Don't want you tracking mud everywhere."

You shrug nonchalantly, contemplating the practicality of his advice. "I can just take off my boots when we get back," you suggest. Nonetheless, you allow Levi to lead you closer to the side of a towering evergreen, just one of many casting a dense shadow over your surroundings. As you step closer, you become aware of the uneven ground beneath your feet, disrupted by an intricate network of enormous roots.

This early in spring, it's still a tad chilly out. It's just warm enough that you decided to leave your coat back in the cave. However, the occasional gust of wind carries a crisp bite, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Levi, on the other hand, is still sporting his odd mismatched coat of furs, wary of the lingering chill that could seep into his semi-cold-blooded form.

As you navigate a steep root-encased slope, the uneven terrain poses a challenge, causing you to wobble and struggle to maintain your balance. In contrast, Levi’s inhuman form seems effortlessly adapted to the forest’s obstacles, allowing him to move with grace and ease.

Seeing your struggle, Levi’s hand rises immediately to assist you. With a gentle touch, his hand finds the small of your back, offering support and guidance. His touch is both firm and comforting, stabilizing you as you make your way down the slope. The pressure of his hand against your back serves as a tactile reminder of his protective presence, allowing you to feel more secure in your steps.

With Levi’s guidance, your descent becomes smoother and more controlled. You can’t help but appreciate his thoughtfulness and the way he effortlessly adapts to the environment, always looking out for you.

Pausing for a moment, you turn to Levi, curiosity evident in your voice. "Why are we out here again?"

Levi responds with a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation, his voice laced with affectionate familiarity. "Your attention span has been terrible lately," he teases, his playful remark accompanied by a light chuckle.

"Oh, I wonder why that would be?" you tease in response, bumping your arm playfully into his.

He playfully raises an eyebrow, his voice infused with a touch of mischief. "I wonder…" he echoes your words, a playful glint in his eyes. Pausing, his expression shifts into one of genuine concern. His raised eyebrow lowers, and his mischievous glint gives way to a thoughtful gaze. There's a hint of vulnerability in his eyes as he directs his attention towards you, his voice carrying a softness that reflects his genuine care. "How are you feeling, by the way?" he asks sincerely, his eyes briefly flickering down to your thighs before bouncing back up.

"I told you I'm fine," you reiterate honestly, your words filled with sincerity. You understand his caring nature and how deeply he values your well-being. The memory of the passionate night you shared together brings a slight warmth to your cheeks, knowing that Levi had been concerned about any lingering discomfort you might have experienced.

A soft smile plays on your lips as you continue, wanting to put his worries to rest. "I appreciate you asking, but I'm fine, I promise," you affirm, your voice gentle yet firm. You understand that Levi's concern stems from a place of genuine care for you, but you want to assure him that the soreness has subsided and that you are healing well.

Levi's brows furrow slightly, his gaze searching yours, as if trying to gauge the veracity of your words. "Still..." he begins, his voice trailing off.

You interject, wanting to alleviate any lingering concerns. "It's been days," you assure him, your tone filled with reassurance. "The soreness faded halfway through the next day, I promise. It was mostly just my knees and thighs anyways," you explain, with a soft smirk. "I haven't exactly gotten much exercise lately."

Levi takes a moment to absorb your words, his gaze softening as he comes to terms with your explanation. Slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, indicating his relief. "Alright," he finally concedes, a hint of playfulness returning to his voice. "Just remember, if you ever need anything, I'm here for you."

You reach out, gently squeezing his hand, gratitude and affection evident in your touch. "I know, and I appreciate that more than you know," you respond sincerely.

As you continue your journey beneath the giant darkened canopy of The Maw, you observe Levi's presence beside you. Something seems subtly amiss, and your keen perception picks up on the subtle changes in his demeanor. While it may be barely noticeable to the untrained eye, you sense a distinct shift in the way he carries himself.

Levi's shoulders appear slightly tense and on edge, as if he's holding himself differently, as if he's ready to spring into action at any given moment. Moreover, he seems to have developed an unconscious gravitation towards you. Even in this moment, he leans into you, his side brushing against yours as you walk.

Your concern lingers as you observe Levi's demeanor, the tension in his shoulders and the subtle changes in his behavior prompting worry within you. Unable to contain your worries for even a moment longer, you voice your thoughts, "I- is there something dangerous out here..."

Levi's response is a mixture of reassurance and uncertainty. His tongue flicks out, a subtle gesture that reflects his heightened senses as he tastes the air, trying to detect any potential threats. "I don't sense anything," he finally responds, his voice calm but guarded. The fact that he doesn't meet your gaze adds a layer of complexity to the situation, leaving you wondering about the true nature of his unease.

As you walk side by side, the back of his hand brushes against yours in a fleeting touch before quickly retreating. Sensing his internal struggle, you can't help but smile. He wants to hold your hand.

"You're silly sometimes," you chuckle affectionately, interlacing your fingers with his. The simple act of intertwining your hands immediately sends a surge of relief through his shoulders. As your fingers meet, you feel the warmth of his hand and notice a soft pink hue spreading across his cheekbones.

Levi swallows heavily, shooting you a shy look. His fingers tighten around yours and the thumb works a firm circle into the back of your hand. “We're heading towards a meadow, not far from the river we went to before. I- we need to get new branches for the nest.”

You think of the layers of pine below the soft pelt blankets. “They have gotten sort of mushed,” you concede with a hum. Over the past week you've noticed that the cushion they provide has steadily decreased. Some of them have even become scraggly and brown, though that's mostly the outer patches closer to the entrance. “But we're only going to be here for a little longer, why bother?”

“It's my instincts,” Levi explains. “Since i’m right on the edge of a heat, they're practically screaming at me to make the nest perfect.”

As you round a colossal oak tree, its majestic presence acting as a gateway, the dense embrace of the forest reluctantly relinquishes its hold, revealing a breathtaking sight—a picturesque meadow, bathed in the golden embrace of sunlight. The once-tangled foliage gives way to a carpet of vibrant green grass, stretching out before you like a tranquil haven. The warm rays of the sun pierce through the gaps in the forest canopy, casting a radiant glow upon the meadow’s beauty.

In this idyllic scene, the melodies of nature fill the air, carried on the wings of countless birds. Their elegant flight adds a vivid touch to the tableau, their feathers a kaleidoscope of colors that dance against the azure sky. The harmony of the meadow, with its sunlit expanse and lively avian inhabitants, stirs a sense of wonder and tranquility within you.

Stepping forward, you feel the gentle caress of sunlight on your skin, its warmth serving as a comforting embrace. Lost in the beauty of your surroundings, you muse aloud, “Surprised you don’t want to clean all of the furs…” The question lingers in the air, carrying a hint of curiosity and a touch of playful banter, directed towards Levi.

He huffs, smiling softly at how well you know him. “I do, trust me,” he shakes his head. “The smell helps. It's hard to explain, but it makes me feel less on edge to have our scents mixed together everywhere.”

Your gaze shifts to the far end of the meadow, where a cluster of more reasonably sized evergreens beckons. The verdant giants stand tall, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The two of you quickly make your way towards them.

Reaching the side of a trio of them, you note that even though they're smaller than their neighbors, they still tower high above you. You take a moment to assess the situation, realizing that all the larger branches are well beyond your reach. A note of uncertainty colors your voice as you inquire, “How do we-”

Before you can even finish your sentence, Levi springs into action. With remarkable agility, he swiftly maneuvers himself around the base of the tree, using the natural grooves and irregularities of the bark as his handholds. His tail, a sleek and powerful appendage, coils tightly around the trunk, aiding in his ascent as he deftly pulls himself from one branch to another.

As Levi effortlessly navigates the intricate network of branches, you find yourself in awe of his unexpected tree-climbing prowess. The sight of his muscles flexing and the fluidity of his movements captivate you. In a mix of surprise and admiration, you shout up towards the branches, unable to contain your astonishment, “You can climb trees?”

His voice carries down to you, infused with a touch of playful sarcasm, “No, what would make you think that?”

The lighthearted banter in his response brings a smile to your face. Playfully rolling your eyes, you reply, “You know, no one likes a smart-ass.”

Levi’s progress up the tree continues, each branch serving as a stepping stone towards an elevated vantage point. As you watch him navigate with ease, amazement fills your heart.

“That’s clearly not true,” he chimes down at you, his voice carrying a playful undertone. From this distance, his features are obscured, but you can sense the mischievous smirk in his tone. “As long as I can wrap around the base, I can get up most trees, no problem.”

Looking up at him, you suddenly feel a pang of uncertainty. Feeling useless, your hands fidget aimlessly. “What do you want me to do?” you ask, seeking direction as you yearn to be of assistance.

His voice carries down, filled with a mix of determination and trust in your abilities. “I’m going to slice down some larger branches. Make sure to keep out of their way. Can you pile them up so they’ll be easy to drag back later?”

With an eager nod, you move to stand at a safe distance away. Levi's tail coils around the base of a substantial branch, lending stability as he deftly wields his sharp claws, severing the limb with a single, precise swipe. The detached branch teeters momentarily, precariously balanced in his scaly grip.

Levi's urgent call reaches your ears, his voice laced with caution. "I'm going to drop it. Make sure you're out of the way!"

Responding without hesitation, you shout back in affirmation, reassured by the distance between you and the impending descent of the massive branch. Though Levi can clearly discern your safe position, you appreciate the consideration and warning.

With a resounding crash, the branch collides with the ground, creating a thunderous impact that echoes through the meadow. The sheer size of the fallen branch overwhelms you—the trunk of it surpasses the thickness of your leg, while its sprawling branches, adorned with pine needles, extend and dwarf your own stature. Just from looking at it you can tell its weight is substantial, but determination fuels your efforts.

Grasping onto the branch, you summon your strength and begin to move it, inch by inch, towards the center of the meadow. The task is demanding the muscles in your arms and thighs burning from physical exertion, yet you persevere, driven by the knowledge that this collective effort will prove worthwhile. The earth beneath your feet resists, but your determination prevails, and you gradually overcome the resistance, dragging the branch along with grit and determination.

Meanwhile, Levi deftly maneuvers within the tree, seamlessly transitioning from one branch to another, expertly severing more limbs with the swift motion of his claws. His actions are almost as if he anticipates your progress, ensuring a steady supply of branches for you to collect and arrange.

As you laboriously haul one branch into place, he provides a continuous stream of fresh additions, reinforcing the growing pile with each subsequent slash. Together, you create an organized collection of branches, neatly stacked and ready for future use. Somehow, Levi had assured that the first branch had been the largest, each one getting smaller and lighter than the last and the pile rises above the grass.

Beads of sweat begin forming on your brow, forcing you to instinctively wipe them away with the back of your hand. Despite the physical strain, a wide smile splits across your face. The rhythmic movements and the growing pile of branches elicit a sense of accomplishment, fueling your determination to complete the task at hand.

With the sprawling branches now surpassing the height of your waist, you pause for a moment, pondering the quantity needed to adequately line the bottom of the cave. Your curiosity prompts you to voice your thoughts, asking, “How many do we need? Shouldn’t this be more than enough?”

From the canopy above, Levi emits a thoughtful hum, his voice carrying a note of assurance. Leaning over his perch, he eyes the stack you've made so far. “Just a few more,” he replies. The words hang in the air as several more branches succumb to gravity, crashing to the ground. As you move to gather them, Levi once again exhibits remarkable agility, swiftly descending from his lofty perch. With his assistance, the last remaining handful of branches are swiftly gathered to join the pile.

Standing side by side, you survey the accumulated bounty, the amalgamation of your joint efforts. “How are we supposed to drag these back? I can't even imagine how much this weighs..”

“It shouldn't be a problem,” he assures you with a shrug. “We just need to make sure all of the branches are tucked together. It's always a bitch when one falls off midway.”

Nodding in agreement, you crouch down, determined to secure the loose outer branches and create a more manageable load. As you grasp one of the upper branches, your fingers encounter an unexpected sensation—a squirming beneath the soft pine needles. Involuntarily, you let out a startled squeal, instinctively retracting your hand and clutching it protectively against your chest.

A small, blueish-grey head emerges from the pine needles, revealing oozing empty black eyes that fix their hollow gaze upon you. The creature, with its pointed ears and tangled, matted hair, unfurls its firefly-like wings, their faint glow casting an eerie light. In a flurry of motion, it swiftly rises, hissing menacingly mere inches from your face, exposing its rows of black, needle-thin teeth. Panic seizes your heart, causing it to hammer wildly in your chest, and a scream lodges in your throat, ready to burst forth.

Moments later, another of these mysterious creatures breaks free from the branch, joining its companion in a frenzied buzz, circling in front of your face. They twitch and spasm oddly as they hover terrifyingly close, their little mouths snapping hungrily at your skin and the corners of their mouths foaming sickeningly. You manage to muster a shaky plea, your voice quivering in a quiet squeak. “L-Levi!”

In an instant, Levi’s attention is fully on you, his eyes widening in alarm as he gasps your name. With remarkable agility, he swiftly moves to your side, placing himself between you and the hissing, fluttering creatures. Baring his fangs, his expression twists into a display of fierce determination as he emits a loud, angry hiss that sends the creatures scurrying back into the depths of the dark woods at the edge of the meadow.

Turning back to you, Levi’s intense gaze studies your features, his touch gentle as he cups your elbow. Concern lines his face as he asks, “Are you alright?”

Taking a shaky breath, you nod, still feeling a bit dazed from the encounter. “Y-yeah,” you manage to reply, your voice wavering. “W-what were those creatures?”

Levi’s scowl deepens as he answers, “Pixies. Wild ones, by the looks of it.”

Pixies. The word echoes in your mind, evoking both fascination and a newfound wariness. Your next question emerges hesitantly, “W-were they going to… eat me?”

Levi’s response is blunt, his tone conveying a somber reality. “They probably wouldn’t have gotten far. One or two pixies can’t do much damage, but a dozen or more… They can pick someone’s bones clean in a matter of minutes.”

A chill runs down your spine at the realization of the danger you narrowly escaped. The forest suddenly feels more ominous, its enchantment now tinged with a hint of menace. Feeling the weight of your fear, Levi’s expression softens with regret. He releases his hold on your elbow and reaches out to gently touch your arm, seeking to provide comfort. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes sincerely, his voice filled with remorse. “They were so small that I didn’t catch their scent. I should have been more vigilant.”

With the gravity of the situation sinking in, you appreciate Levi’s apology and the understanding he expresses. You take a moment to collect yourself, allowing his touch to soothe your frazzled nerves. Despite the fear that still lingers, you find solace in his presence and the reassurance he offers.

As your pulse slows, frustration surges forth within you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. "I shouldn't have frozen up like that," you frown, berating yourself for your inaction. The knife hanging from your hip remains untouched, dangling heavily against your thigh. They'd been easy enough to startle away. You should’ve done something other than stand there quivering in fear. The realization hits you hard – there is so much to learn about The Maw, including vital fighting and survival skills.

Levi's gaze meets yours, his expression filled with remorse but also a renewed sense of determination. "We need to be more cautious from now on," he asserts firmly, his voice tinged with resolve. "Especially as the forest comes alive."

You nod, determination replacing the initial shock as the weight of the encounter lingers. Your palm finds the hilt of your knife, a reminder of the need to grow stronger. Swallowing heavily, you cast your gaze upon the large mound of branches before you. "Are we ready to head back?" you ask, steeling yourself for the journey.

Levi responds with a nod, his strength evident as he pulls the trunk of the large bottom-most branch up over his shoulder with a grunt. Despite its massive weight, his shoulders remain steady and upright, his biceps displaying minimal strain. The long length of his tail slips beneath the pile, lifting it effortlessly from the grass. "Stick close," he advises, his voice carrying a sense of caution and protection.

You nod in response, a vague sense of fear prickling along the back of your head as you eye the darkened forest edge. With Levi taking the lead, you fall in step beside him, keeping a close distance as you begin the journey back to the cave.

As you traverse through the forest, the sunlight filters through the dense canopy, casting small dappled patterns on the forest floor. The rhythmic sound of your footsteps is accompanied by the rustling of leaves and the occasional call of birds in the distance. Even with the giant load balanced on his shoulder and tail, Levi moves terrifyingly quietly. The air is filled with the earthy scent of moss and damp soil, intermingled with the sharp fragrance of pine.

Time seems to pass in a blur as you make steady progress, the distance gradually shrinking between you and the safety of the cave. Each step brings you closer to your sanctuary, where the warmth and familiarity of home await.

As you continue walking, a comfortable silence envelops you. Your gaze occasionally drifts towards Levi's swaying hips, a mix of admiration and another indescribable feeling lingering in your thoughts. You find yourself captivated by the way he moves, the easy and thoughtless sway of his hips, completely unaware of the effect he has on you. Despite his size and the sheer strength he possesses, his movements are graceful and nearly soundless. The enticing sway of his hips from side to side holds your attention, as if he were dancing, drawing you closer in some enchanting spell.

Three days. It's been three days since he'd been inside you, tongue, tail and cock. The mere memory has heat surging in your thighs, an open ache of yearning fluttering to life within your core. You believe his recent intensity is due to his approaching heat. He had mentioned that it would arrive soon, within a few days to a week, and there’s something in the way he carries himself that suggests it’s imminent.

You can't help but feel a surge of excitement. The anticipation of what lies ahead leaves you with a dry mouth. Almost involuntarily, your gaze lingers on the delicate strip of pale skin at the small of his waist, tracing the subtle sway of his hip as he gracefully moves beside you.

Shifting close, Levi catches your attention by brushing his arm against yours. Sensing the direction of your thoughts, he breaks the silence, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "You can still change your mind, you know. I know we already..” His frustration manifests as he runs his fingers through his dark locks. The arm raised above head to balance your haul on his shoulder flexes, the muscles of his bicep straining in a display of tension. He sounds almost resigned, “I wouldn’t blame you if you felt it was too much..”

You interrupt him gently, speaking his name softly. "Levi..." you chide, shooting him a soft, exasperated look.

He lets out a huff, his tone shifting to a more practical note. "You know how to get to the Den if it becomes too much, right? From the entrance of the nest, go straight west and follow the river north."

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips. "Honestly, I don't even know which way is West.” The frown you get in response is almost severe, complete with a flat deadpan. “But I want you to know, I'm not going to change my mind." The determination in your voice is unmistakable.

“I think-” he starts hesitantly, “I think my heat is going to start tomorrow.” He raises his free hand, lightly pressing his nails into the skin above his heart. “I can feel it already it's- it's never been so intense before.”

“What does it feel like?” you ask, your gaze locked on his face, wanting to understand the depth of what he’s going through.

“Like lava is burning along the edges of my senses,” he explains, head tilting back as his eyes flutter closed in a shudder. Adjusting his grip on the trunk, the muscles of his back twitch in a violent shudder. “It's sort of like an itch that's just out of my reach, so I can't scratch it. One that's gradually getting more and more intense.”

The news fills you with a mix of concern and curiosity. “How long will it last?”

He shrugs, “Every time is different, but i've always been alone before. Sometimes it's lasted a week-” your shock must be evident, because Levi quickly rushes to assure you, “I don't think it'll last as long this time though. I’ve heard that having a partner and forming a bond helps.. satisfy it quicker.”

Finally, as the mouth of the cave comes into view, a sense of relief washes over you. Despite the burden of the branches weighing him down for almost an hour, Levi appears unfazed.

Levi carefully sets the branches near the entrance of the cave, and together, you roll up the pelt bedding, stowing it away in a corner at the far end. Upon closer inspection, you realize the branches are in worse condition than you initially thought. They appear old and scraggly, with most of the needles turned brown from age. Numerous branches are broken, their thin twigs snapped off into dry and messy pieces of wood.

Squinting at the sun, Levi observes its position as it slowly lowers along the middle of the horizon. "It's getting late. I'll go catch us something to eat. Could you clear out the old debris while I'm gone?" he asks.

"Of course," you reply, nodding in agreement. As Levi's tail disappears into the darkness of the woods, you begin to remove the larger branches from the cave. The floor is covered in a tangle of brown needles, and you do your best to sweep them out of the entrance. As you sweep away the brown needles and clear the entrance, your attention is drawn to the small divot in the cave, where Levi keeps his odd collection of books and bobbles. With a clearer view, you realize it's not a natural groove but rather a result of claw marks. Silver scrapes adorn the corners of the crevice, indicating the strength and power behind Levi's claws. The realization prompts questions to swirl in your mind. Just how strong is he? How dangerous can his claws be?

While contemplating these thoughts, you continue tidying up, appreciating the utility of the small brush you retrieved from Levi's collection of odds and ends. It's a versatile tool that he typically uses to clean up ashes from the fire or to remove mud from his scales. Its bristles serve you well in clearing out the debris, making the cave entrance cleaner and more inviting.

By the time you finish clearing the floor, Levi returns, his catch of the day slung over his shoulder. However, to your surprise, it's not a small game like a rabbit but a much larger animal— a brown deer.

"An entire deer?" you exclaim, astonished, as you assess the limp form draped over Levi's shoulder.

He nods, a hint of pride in his eyes. "My metabolism is revving up again, and considering the upcoming days, we might not have much time to eat.” He places the deer carcass down onto the grass near the cave’s entrance. “I'll skin it later. Let's focus on finishing the preparations for the nest before the sun sets.”

You nod in understanding, realizing that daylight is fading quickly. Shuffling the brush between your hands, you add, “I’ve just finished clearing out the loose needles.”

“Thank you,” he praises softly, his eyes scanning the area you've just cleared away. “You didn't do a terrible job.”

The half-compliment brings a sense of satisfaction to your chest, especially considering his earlier criticism at the creek. "The branches you grabbed are much larger than the ones from before," you comment, noting the massive size of the bottommost branches.

He hums in agreement, his claws effortlessly slicing free a handful of smaller branches that jut out from the main body. “We’ll use these, so there aren't any excessively thick twigs below. The pine is supposed to help protect us from the layer of cold stone, but we don't want it to be a bitch to lay on. The thicker trunks will serve as good firewood for next year."

Pulling your knife from your hip, you join him in slicing free all of the smaller branches. Following his lead, you carefully sort through the branches, ensuring that each one is no larger than the width of your finger. Together, you work diligently, and soon enough, the entire floor is covered in a thick layer of fresh green pine. The scent of pine fills the air, lending a refreshing and earthy aroma to the nest. With the branches in place, you roll the pelts back over, and it’s as if nothing has changed—except for the improved comfort and insulation provided by the fresh bedding.

Satisfied with your work, you step back into the entrance to admire the transformed nest. Behind you, Levi effortlessly stacks the empty branches into a pile, ready to be dealt with later. Using his claws with practiced precision, he swiftly skins the deer, bringing a substantial pile of pink meat to the fireside. He starts to work, swiftly impaling the pieces on sharp sticks to cook them over the fire.

"I'll take over," you wave him off, eager to contribute to the meal preparation. Smiling softly in appreciation, he curls up to sit by your side.

As you tend to the cooking, Levi's fingers deftly weave some of the leftover small branches together. Intrigued by his actions, you observe as a thick rounded edge quickly takes shape. "I..." he starts distractedly, his fingers continuing their intricate twining. "I might be different in the morning. I might wake up with my heat..."

The thought thrills you, and Levi's heated gaze confirms that he senses your excitement. "I'm fine with that," you respond, a playful glint in your eyes.

Levi nods, his expression becoming more intense. "You might want to sleep naked," he advises, his voice low and suggestive. His eyes flicker down, catching the fabric of your blouse, before bouncing back up. His shoulders hunch shyly. "I don't want to tear them."

A mischievous smile spreads across your face. "You'd just fix it again," you note, a hint of anticipation in your voice. "Probably a good idea though. Oh! I never thanked you for fixing my coat!"

He rumbles softly, his voice filled with warmth. "It was my fault it got torn in the first place."

As the fire crackles and the enticing aroma of cooked meat fills the nest, you find your attention drawn to the rhythmic shifting of Levi's lithe fingers. The small twigs are swiftly woven together, forming a flat sheet that continues to grow, revealing a glimpse of his skilled craftsmanship. Soon enough, the pine coated branches sprawl across his lap in a thick, square-ish plate.

With a determined expression, Levi lifts the woven sheet and carefully positions it in front of the scraggly entrance of the cave, effectively closing off the outside world. The interwoven branches create a natural barrier, providing some privacy and protection. In the top right corner, there is enough space for the smoke from the fire to billow free, ensuring ventilation within the nest.

He's closed you in. As you swallow heavily and gaze at the carefully braided expanse of verdant pine, you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and excitement. Rather than feeling trapped or confined, the enclosure created by Levi's handiwork ignites a thrilling sensation that tingles at the back of your mind. The intimate space seems to foster an atmosphere of closeness and heightened emotions, fueling the excitement coursing through your veins.

By your side, the chunks of meat sizzle and gain a tempting char. You swallow, feeling your stomach growl in response to the mouthwatering smell. Gesturing vaguely at Levi's handiwork, you start unevenly, “Wh- why did you?”

Levi’s expression softens, his eyes meeting yours. “Because I care about you,” he replies sincerely. “During my heat, I want to provide for you and ensure your comfort.”

The warmth of his words fills the air, and you can’t help but feel a surge of gratitude and affection for him. As the meat continues to cook, you find yourself drawn closer to him, the anticipation of the coming days mingling with the scent of the meal, creating a sense of intimacy and shared purpose.

His voice continues as he tucks up tightly against you, his tail encircling your waist and his arm draped across your back. The intensity in his eyes returns, a deep and burgeoning heat that sends shivers of anticipation down your spine. "It also gives us some privacy," he explains, his voice laced with a mix of need and desire. "My instincts are kicking in and they want to ensure we aren't disturbed."

Nose flaring, Levi reaches across you to grab some meat, his movements driven by both hunger and urgency. “You should eat,” he urges, pressing the meat kabob in your direction, his voice low and husky. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get more food until things have… settled.”

Concern fills your voice as you reply, “Hopefully there’s enough water in the cooking pot.” Reaching over, you grab the proffered stick, savoring the juicy, thick slices of deer as you quickly devour them.

As Levi gorges himself on the meat, tearing it apart easily with his sharp fangs, you follow suit, consuming the food with equal fervor under his watchful eye. He encourages you to eat more, emphasizing the need for energy.

By the time you both finish, the sun has almost disappeared beyond the horizon, casting a warm orange glow through the covered entrance of the cave. Levi’s worried expression becomes more pronounced as he tugs at the hem of your shirt, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the fabric. He presses soft kisses to the sleeve, a mixture of affection and concern in his voice. “We… we should sleep. You’ll need your rest before it starts.”

The weight of his words settles in, and you nod in agreement, feeling a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. The night ahead holds unknown experiences and uncharted territories, but you trust Levi to guide you through it.

As you and Levi prepare for sleep, he assists you in removing your clothes, handling them with care as he folds them and sets them aside. Then, he enfolds you in his arms, drawing your chest flush against his own and guiding your face to nestle against his neck. His tail wraps around you, providing a comforting weight akin to a cozy blanket.

With tender lips pressing against the top of your head, he whispers softly into your hair, expressing his concerns for the next day. His fingers delicately weave through your hair, offering soothing and affectionate gestures. "I'm sorry if I'm... if I'm too much tomorrow," he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and care.

Nuzzling into his chest, eyes heavy with fatigue, you reassure him softly. "I'll be fine, Levi," you assure him, your words laced with understanding. "I trust you."

Guided by the gentleness of his touch and the security of his presence, you gradually surrender to a peaceful slumber. The sensation of his scales against your skin creates a cocoon of intimacy and protection, fostering a deep sense of comfort. Wrapped in Levi's embrace, you find solace and rest, ready to face whatever challenges the coming days may bring.

You wake as a loud hiss pierces the air, accompanied by the sensation of fangs pressing against your throat. Blinking to awareness, your body tenses with a surge of adrenaline. The sharp pinpricks send a jolt of pain through your senses, and a deep rumbling growl reverberates through you, jarring your awareness.

Instinct kicks in, and your mind races to assess the situation. With a surge of urgency, you realize that the dynamics have shifted, and the once-familiar embrace of Levi now feels threatening and dangerous. His heat had started. You become acutely aware of the primal instincts at play, reminding you of the unfamiliar nature of your partner. Gasping for breath, your feet kick frantically and your hands squirm at your sides, desperate to find purchase on his shoulders.

Struggling against the darkness surrounding you, your eyes slowly adjust to the dim moonlit beams that manage to penetrate the barred entryway. Trembling, your voice catches in your throat as the sharp points tighten around your windpipe. A shuddering breath escapes Levi’s lips, and the hot length of his tongue slides across your throat, leaving behind a wet heat. In a moment of urgency, your hands reach up, entangling in the dark tresses at the back of his head, tugging with urgency. “L-Levi,” you manage to squeak out.

With a deep, rumbling growl, the sharp grasp around your throat loosens. Levi hovers above you, his features twisted into a raw and primal display. Moonlight reflects off the sharp points of his glistening fangs, appearing even longer and sharper as they hang menacingly above your face.

In the dim light, his eyes emit a luminous glow, while the whites shine with an unsettling brightness. His pupils, like tiny pinpricks, are sharply defined, enclosed within a shade of deep burning charcoal grey. The air in the small cave becomes suffocatingly hot as his chest heaves, his mouth releasing a sticky, balmy heat. As he gazes down at you, his chest swells with a deep rumble, and his nails dig painfully into your back.

Lacking any of his usual care, the grasp is far from gentle. You think you feel a wet heat welling up from where the sharp points are digging into your skin, the telltale sign of blood beginning to trickle from around the tips of his claws.

Squirming, you notice a warm slickness coating your bottom half. He's leaking, practically gushing, and his cock is already out, jabbing your belly and leaving a slick warm ooze against your skin.

"Maaate," he hisses, his urgency evident as he fervently licks at the skin of your throat. In the scorching intensity of his heat, it seems as though all rational thought has vanished, replaced by a primal instinct. Levi's presence has completely vanished, replaced by a relentless beast.

His tail coils tightly around you, its scales constricting to the point where movement becomes impossible. Your arms and legs are firmly immobilized within its sinewy grasp, leaving you completely restrained. Your heart stammers, its rhythm faltering in response to the overwhelming surge of fear and anticipation coursing through your veins.

“Maaaaate,” he growls again. His hips jolt and more wetness oozes between you. There's so much of it, warm and slick dripping to coat the entirety of your stomach and thighs. You can feel the tip of him throb, leaking a thick trail of white along your abdomen. His face contorts and those dark glowing eyes delve deep into your own. It's a question, you realize. Even out of his mind with lust, Levi is confirming that you're okay with this.

“Y-yeah,” you manage to gasp, your breath catching in your throat. With an ardent nod, you express your agreement. “I’m your mate.”

He growls in response, his tail trembling with excitement as it continues to coil around you. Leaning forward, he affectionately nuzzles his nose against yours with a happy hum. Nudging your nose into his, you pull him into a shallow lip lock that quickly becomes heated. Hot breath bathing your face, it's like he's drinking the taste of you with a pleased hum. He moans, the sharp points of his teeth pressing into the supple skin of your bottom lip, inducing a slight prickle of pain and flooding your senses with the metallic taste of iron.

"Shit, Levi," you gasp, the metallic taste of your own blood lingering on your lips. Surprisingly, rather than deter you, it only serves to further ignite your desires, sending a surge of intense heat coursing through your veins at an alarming pace. Urgently pressing your thighs together, you deepen the kiss, pushing your mouth against his with an eager sigh, yearning for the sound of his pleased little moans and hums.

As your tongue brushes against the sharp row of his fangs, you can't help but notice that they are longer, their pointed tips resembling tiny blades. Running your tongue along his incisor, the taste of iron intensifies, flooding your senses once again.

In response, he releases a loud, pleasure-filled moan, his lips fervently pushing and pulling against yours in an unending display of passion. Drawing in a sharp breath, he inhales your scent deeply, releasing a hot gust of air that tickles your cheek. His hands firmly grip your hips, matching the tight and pulsating hold of the scales enveloping you. Jolting, your hips roll into his with a needy whine. Trapped between you, his cock throbs, the slick mess between you only growing.

In a flurry of motion, the coil of his tail suddenly twists you over onto your hands and knees. His claws drag down your bare back in one long sweep, the edges barely grazing your skin. The touch sends a long rolling shutter down your spine. Parts of his tail wrap around each of your thighs, firmly holding them apart under his intense, fiery gaze. Another wider section of his tail remains securely coiled around your waist, exerting a tight and twisting pressure, effectively restricting your movements.

Trapped. You feel trapped, but fear doesn't fill your heart. Instead, an amalgamation of anticipation, curiosity, and desire takes its place. The loss of control intensifies the throbbing sensation in your chest, as you surrender to the captivating and passionate experience unraveling before you. It’s a mixture of emotions that adds an exhilarating edge to the encounter, heightening your senses.

You can feel the intensity of his gaze burning between your thighs, drinking in the sight of the slick that's already leaking to the crease of your thighs. His hands shift from your waist, spreading your ass cheeks wide. “Wet,” he growls excitedly, pressing his teeth against the curve of your right cheek. The sharp edge causes a sudden jolt of sensation, making you shudder within the tight grip of his hold. “Mine,” he asserts possessively, hot breath bathing your soaked center.

Apparently he can only express himself with singular words, limited by the overwhelming sensations and desires coursing through him. Each word he utters carries a weight of raw emotion, stripped down to its core essence, conveying his primal instincts and unbridled passion in the simplest yet most intense way.

In response to his limited but powerful words, you find yourself trembling with a mixture of vulnerability and surrender. With a shudder, your toes curl into the soft bedding below. The weight of your admission, “Y-yours. All yours,” hangs in the air, expressing your deep longing and desire to belong to him completely.

As his thumbs shift down to spread open your folds, you clench helplessly beneath his gaze. Watching you flutter, the growl that leaves his chest can only be described as a whine. “Pretty,” he groans, voice thick with desire. Blood rushes to fill your face with heat, causing your face to flush with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

You feel so open, with him behind you looking straight inside your entrance. Part of you wishes you could see him. You long to see his face, to witness the expressions and emotions that accompany this new dynamic. It feels different from before, and amidst the excitement, you find yourself yearning for the soft, reassuring weight of his gaze.

Squirming in embarrassment, the tight grasp around you suddenly tightens severely. The section of his hold encircling your ribs constricts, nearly squeezing the air from your lungs. Simultaneously, one of his hands applies strong pressure between your shoulder blades, its force posing a risk of toppling you forward.

In a sharp, hissing tone, he commands, "Still." The urgency and authority in his voice demand your compliance, leaving little room for hesitation.

Something prods your folds, making you gasp in shock, jolting your hips forward despite his warning growl. Nails dig into your cheeks, spreading you wide, and then something wet and hot slides along the crease of your folds in one long stroke from bottom to top. It's his tongue, you realize with a shaky gasp. He's bent over behind you, claws digging into your skin as he hungrily sucks at your folds. A hot, shaky breath bathes your folds. “Mine,” he breathes hotly into your cunt.

Levi tongues urgently at your entrance, lapping mindlessly along the length of your folds. It's aimless and frantic, pleased groans buzzing along your sensitive skin with every flick of his tongue. Untouched, your clit aches. Spit soaks your core, dripping down to bathe the crease of your thighs.

“Ahh, Levi,” you moan, struggling to hold still. Every part of you seems to throb, desperate for more stimulation. Raising your hips, you try to guide him with a needy whine, “H-higher. My clit. Please!”

The only response you get is an eager huff of air from his nose, blown directly into the crease of your ass. He's preparing you, you realize, as the forked tip of his tongue presses searchingly into your hole. He's soaking your already slick entrance with his spit in preparation for you to take his cock.

He works diligently, stretching your rim with the tip of his tongue and shallowly lapping inward. As you thoughtlessly roll your rolling hips into his mouth, his nails dig into the skin of your ass, pulling you in with a heady groan. Working his way deeper and deeper, the slick appendage writhes deep into your guts. It’s like he’s transformed into a primal, untamed creature, hungry and thoughtless. Every ravenous moan emanating from him resonates deep within you, stirring a primal response that shakes you to your core. Your clit hasn't even been touched and yet your thighs are already shaking.

Eventually, he withdraws, seemingly satisfied. Aching and empty, you can't help but jolt back searchingly, eager for more of the hot slide of his tongue. You can hear his lips smack with a wet and pleased hum.

“Mate?” Levi’s voice echoes once more, a deep rumble filled with longing and uncertainty. He rises, pressing his chest firmly against your back, creating a closeness that envelops you in his presence. The sharp points of his fangs delicately graze against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. With a deep yearning, his hips begin to sway, tracing a slow and desperate circle. Slick scales glide along the back of your thighs and the length of his cock drags teasingly along your folds with a boiling wet heat.

“Y-yeah,” you answer dazedly, mind reeling. Your hips jolt as the blunt curve of his head bumps into the ring of your entrance. It spurts, leaking a hot sticky mess along your folds.

Chest rumbling happily, he works the tip of himself just past the ring of your entrance in short little jabs. Then, he fills you with one smooth stroke, the glide slick and easy.

“Shit,” he curses, his voice carrying a rare moment of clarity amidst the overwhelming sensations. It’s the most cognizant he has sounded thus far, breaking through the primal haze that engulfs him. He holds still for several months, his fingers working soothing circles into your hip. As you both immerse in the intensity of the moment, you feel the pulsating tightness of his coiled form, vibrating with pleasure all around you. It's like the coiled length of him is throbbing, matching the beat of his cock as it pulses inside you.

"L-Levi," you strain, your voice trembling with a mixture of pleasure and need. The name escapes your lips as a fervent plea, a testament to the overwhelming sensations that consume you. Every nerve in your body feels alive. Levi hasn’t even moved yet, but just the weight of him, over and inside you, is enough to make your toes curl and your breath catch. Taking short, heavy breaths, you feel overwhelmed just by the feel of him: heavy and big and solid.

He pulls most of the way out with a filthy, slick squelch that makes your ears ring. Just the tip of him remains, throbbing tucked into the quivering ring of your entrance. His breath shudders, causing his chest to hollow against your back. A deep groan begins to build at the base of his chest, resonating with a primal intensity. The sound emerges from deep within him, a raw expression of pleasure and desire that escapes his lips. The grip around you tightens, encompassing you with a firm hold. One hand wraps tightly around your thigh, forcing your knees to widen and your back to bow. His chest fills again with a shuddered breath and his other hand pulls at your hip, urging you to meet him as he fills you with a hard, sharp thrust.

"F-fuck! Levi!" you wail unevenly, your voice filled with a mix of pleasure and surprise. Your fingers scramble against the bedding, seeking an anchor in the midst of the overwhelming sensations. The strength of his thrust propels you forward, causing you to bounce involuntarily. Instinctively, you press your forehead into the soft pelt below, seeking a momentary refuge in its comforting texture. The intensity of the experience leaves you gasping for breath, caught between ecstasy and surrender.

With that singular thrust, his short moment of sanity ends and the beast returns with a deep rumbling growl. “Mine,” he repeats in a fevered growl, fucking into you mercilessly, his hips jolting so hard and fast that you can't even begin to try to meet him. It's so much different than the last time he was inside you, so much more fevered and intense in comparison and the experience is completely out of your control. It's like you're just being used for his pleasure, a thought that sends your mind reeling. “Mine- mine- mine-”

“Ah ah ah -shit-” you cry, eyes pinching tight as your body rocks completely out of your control. The angle is excruciatingly tight and the delicious friction of his cock dragging along your walls is enough to make you drool uncontrollably into the bedding. The spongy tip of him drags against your g-spot with every forward stroke, making you whimper and throb helplessly. The wet slap of his scales against your puffy and oversensitive petals has you nearly mindless.

He penetrates you with an incredible depth that leaves you gasping for breath and squirming in response. The sensation is overwhelming, pushing you to the limits of pleasure and sending waves of sensation coursing through your body.

Overwhelmed, you shift your weight from your hands to your forearms, burying one shoulder into the bedding as you arch your back. Wrapped tightly in his scaly grasp, he continues to give you more and more, rendering you utterly helpless to resist. Hard and fast, you can't do anything but take it. The intensity grows, unrelenting and fast-paced, and you find yourself unable to do anything but surrender to it. The sensations become nearly overwhelming, teetering on the edge of painful overstimulation. “F-fuck! Levi! Slower! Slower, please!” you beg, your plea escaping your lips without thought, desperate for some respite.

Suddenly, his hips press hard and impossibly deep into you and still, his cock lurching inside you with a heady throb. The hand on your thigh shifts, gliding through the sticky mess between you to swirl at your clit. "Oh, shit! Ah! God-" you gasp, feeling your back shudder and stretch as your muscles spasm uncontrollably.

With a grunt, he resumes his pace, thrusting harder and filling you in a way that overwhelms your senses. Your knees tremble under the intensity of the moment, barely able to support you. Between you, Levi is still oozing slickness from around the base of his cock. With every thrust, you can feel wet droplets splash to coat the backs of your thighs.

As you fall forward, your chest meets the soft pelt beneath you, sinking into its comforting embrace. The coil of his tail tightly wrapped around your belly keeps your hips elevated, keeping you up and spread for him to fill you again and again. The intense sensation of his thumb swirling and gliding over your sensitive bud has you trembling uncontrollably. Your gasps for air become loud and desperate, and your thighs begin to shake with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

Overwhelmed by the intense sensations and emotions coursing through you, tears stream down your face as sobs escape your trembling lips. Your fingers instinctively claw desperately into the bedding beneath you, seeking something to hold onto amidst the overwhelming pleasure and vulnerability. The heavy knot in your stomach tightens agonizingly, reaching its peak as pleasure courses through your body. With a shudder that ripples through you, you reach your climax, releasing a guttural scream of ecstasy that echoes through the air. The intensity of the moment consumes you completely, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake.

You’re aware, distantly, of him cursing and pressing himself flat to your back, his face dropping to the curve of your neck, his hands holding your hips and fucking up into you faster and faster until, with one deep thrust, he stills. He spills inside you with a filthy groan, throbbing heavily.

His hips jolt in several broken thrusts as more and more warmth splashes against your walls. It's so much. He comes so much, you can feel the thick spurts that follow every heady throb. As Levi growls deeply, the low rumble reverberates through his chest, creating vibrations that resonate within both of you. The intensity of the sound sends shivers down your spine, and you can feel the vibrations spreading throughout your entire body, from head to toe. Suddenly he shifts, jolting impossibly deeper inside you as a sharp pain appears at the pulse of your throat. He's biting you, you realize, humming eagerly as his fangs dig deep into the side of your neck. Oddly enough, it doesn't really hurt. The only bit of pain is when the sharpened row of teeth initially clamp and sink through your skin. After that the only sensations you know are heat and pleasure.

As his fangs remain firmly embedded in the side of your neck, the conflicting mix of sensations confuses your senses, but you cannot deny the unusual pleasure that accompanies his bite. As you continue and throb and flutter with the tail end of your peak, something at the base of his cock swells painfully wide to form a warm and heavy bulb that stretches your rim painfully wide.

"Wh-what?" you stammer, your mind dazed and disoriented. You can feel the tremor in your voice, but it's as if the sound is muted, lost in the overwhelming haze. The sensations coursing through your body have left you in a state of confusion and sensory overload, making it difficult to fully process or comprehend what is happening around you. Nudging his hips forward, the stretch of your rim is nearly excruciating as he continues to work the knot deeper. He's plugging you up, keeping the copious amount of seed that's sloshing around inside you tucked right where he wants it. The intense mixture of pleasure and pain sends shockwaves through your body, pushing you to the edge once more.

You can't be sure, but you think that you black out for a moment. The first thing that you consciously think about as you come back to your senses is that Levi is warm above you, comforting as he boxes you in; the second is that your ears are ringing. You clench and unclench your hands a few just to try and start to get that far-away feeling out of your limbs — your thighs have already started to ache and your toes burn from being locked in a tight curl.

A feeling of fullness startles you into gasping, and you realize that Levi hasn't pulled out yet. He's still inside you as far as can be, the scales of his pelvis pressed flat to your entrance as the swollen flesh at his base continues to pulse and press eagerly into the ring of your entrance.

You feel Levi's hand tracing the curve of your hip soothingly, his touch creating gentle circles on your skin. The ringing in your ears gradually subsides, allowing you to hear him calling your name softly. "L-Levi," you groan, your eyes fluttering open.

He calls your name once more, his voice slightly rough but noticeably more coherent. The beastly presence has receded, and Levi's awareness has returned, though you remain uncertain for how long it will last.

The swell at his base finally gives, lessening just enough so he can pull free from you with a wet pop. He swiftly turns you around, his hands firmly cupping your shoulders as he searches your face with a worried expression. "Are you okay?" he asks, genuine concern evident in his eyes.

"Yeah," you wheeze, feeling dazed and trying to regain your breath. Stretching out on your back, your gulp eagerly at the sticky air. "I'm fine."

Finally, you get to look at him. Drinking him in after what seems like forever, you note that Levi’s chest is adorned with spotty flushes, his cheeks and ears cast a rosy hue that speaks volumes about his state. His disheveled appearance mirrors your own state of composure and an odd sense of gratification washes over you. His chest rises and falls rapidly, his breaths coming in gasps as he greedily inhales air to replenish his oxygen-depleted lungs. Beads of sweat glide down his forehead, tracing a path down his neck and along his chest, evidence of the intensity and exertion. His eyes, half-lidded and darker than you've ever seen them before, possess an alluring depth that draws you in. In their depths, you witness a potent blend of desire, passion, and vulnerability, reflecting the profound connection forged between you.

He still looks concerned, so you quickly assure him with a comforting pat on his shoulder. “I’m fine. I promise. Just.. dazed and a bit sore.”

In response to your assurance, he frowns momentarily, but upon searching your eyes, he accepts your words. Leaning over you, he delicately licks at the mark he left on your neck, his actions infused with a blend of tenderness and possessiveness. "You're mine," he breathes, his voice carrying a tone of awe and disbelief. The declaration reveals a profound sense of connection and a newfound realization of the bond between you.

The mark on your neck radiates a burning, intense heat, distinct from the familiar sensation of healing. Intrigued, you raise your hand to touch the wound, feeling the distinct imprints of each of his teeth—shallower where his molars had pressed and significantly deeper where his fangs had pierced your skin. Finding the deepest indent, right on the hollow between your shoulder and throat, you ask, “Why'd you bite me?” Surprisingly, there's no blood under your thumb, only warmth and an unconventional sensation of pleasure.

Levi, with a softness in his voice, explains. "It's a mating mark," he murmurs, his words resembling a gentle coo. "If the bond is accepted, it will take on the color of my scales. Everyone who sees it will know that you're mine."

The weight of the proclamation fills your throat with emotion. You can't help but inquire, "Am I supposed to give you a mark in return?"

Levi shrugs, his face retaining an unusual tenderness. "I don't think you can," he replies, pressing a quick kiss to the broken skin. "But I appreciate the offer."

He gasps, thumb trailing along the deepest part, sending a strange surge of pleasure directly to your thighs. “It's already turning black,” he breathes excitedly. The look of excited awe on his face makes your heart throb, a soft smile forming on your lips.

“Of course it is,” you reply, your smile growing as you meet his gaze. As he hovers over you, a joyful glint in his eyes, he playfully nudges his nose against yours.

As he shuffles forward over you, the movement causes the wet tip of his cock to jab into your thigh. You gasp, “Y-your cock didn't go back in?” The last time, it'd disappeared the moment he finished coming, and yet right now it's bobbing between you, heavy and full. It's so odd to see it out, the sensitive grey skin dangling free from the wet and shiny scales of his abdomen. With every vein bulging from the skin, you can practically see his blood flowing and filling the organ, making it lurch as Levi’s breath audibly catches in his throat. It's slick and shiny, the head such a dark swollen red that makes your mouth water. It throbs heavily beneath your gaze, the tip leaking a thrilling white that streaks your thigh with warmth.

"It won't go down until my heat is over," he explains through clenched teeth. His muscles visibly twitch and his shoulders tighten, revealing the struggle for control he's experiencing. The intensity of his desire is evident in his strained expression.

You ask him with concern, "Are you okay?" His chest rises and falls heavily, his breathing becoming labored. His eyes flutter, filled with desire, as his awareness starts to fade away.

As you shift, his gaze darts down between your thighs, widening at the sight. “Look at that,” he coos heatedly. The blunt tip of his finger prods your folds, spreading your labia wide so he can look hungrily at your stretched and quivering entrance. You can feel some of his hot seed ooze free to trickle along your folds.

He gasps, mouth popping open and eyes locking into the white leaking from your folds like it's the most fascinating sight in the world. Using the tips of his fingers, he glides the sticky warmth up and down your folds. The hungry look in his eyes tells you that, if not for the sharp points of his claws, he'd fuck the seed back into you.

Levi's voice is low and possessive as he declares, "Mine." In an instant, the primal beast within him resurfaces. His eyes, already dark, seem to deepen even further, conveying a predatory intensity. Surging forward so that he holds you captive between his forearms, the way he gazes at you sends a shiver down your spine, making you feel both vulnerable and desired, like prey in the presence of a predator.

Pressing his chest flats to yours, he slips inside you in one smooth stroke. This time, he fucks into from above, his grip so tight around your hips that you know it'll bruise. This time, when he pulls out, his thrust back in is somehow even harder, deeper; and any semblance of a thought you could have come up with is gone, just like that. You release a shaky gasp, and Levi responds with a primal growl, his breath hot against your ear. "Mine," he hisses possessively, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh of your throat, marking you once again with his claim. The mixture of pleasure and pain sends a jolt of electricity through your body, intensifying the connection between you.

Caught in a whirlwind of overwhelming sensations, you're unable to articulate coherent words, reduced to a symphony of whimpers and moans. Your legs instinctively wrap around Levi, desperate to match the rhythm of his rolling thrusts. The change in angle ignites something new within you, causing your back to arch and your entire body to convulse with pleasure. Waves of ecstasy ripple through you, leaving you trembling and breathless in the wake of the intense sensation. You come again, barely feeling the buildup before you fall over the edge.

Moaning loudly, Levi deftly maneuvers you with a swift movement of his tail, repositioning you so that you're lying on your front, your chest pressed against the soft pelt beneath you. The firm grip of his tail keeps your hips elevated, allowing for deeper penetration. His breath hot against your ear, “Again,” he hisses with an insatiable hunger, relentlessly driving into you with a powerful and unending rhythm that sends your mind spiraling into a realm of sheer ecstasy. Each thrust churns and twists, overwhelming your senses and leaving you lost in a maelstrom of pleasure.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations coursing through your body, you whimper in protest, unable to believe that you can continue. “I can't! I can't!” you scream out in a desperate plea. Yet, despite your protests, your body betrays you. Your hips instinctively meet his thrusts, your inner walls clenching around him in a desperate attempt to hold on to the pleasure that threatens to consume you. With your hips raised, Levi is able to sneak a hand under you to play with your clit. You shriek, one of your legs kicking feebly at the overstimulation, tears overflowing from your eyes, but Levi just coos at you and keeps going.

It feels good, too good; you’ve never felt like this before. Trembling and oversensitive, you feel simultaneously on the very precipice of an orgasm and too exhausted and rung out to ever come again, simultaneously certain you can’t and certain you will. Each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, the pleasure mingling with a hint of pain that amplifies the sensations coursing through your veins. The climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, a mixture of ecstasy and agony that leaves you gasping and trembling in its wake.

Time and sensation both start to bleed together after that. Your orgasm stretches on forever and it’s hard to say when or if it even really ends; it leaves you gasping for air, legs twitching, constantly trying to sink down to the bed, the coil around your waist constantly keeping you up. He murmurs things now and then to the air, your back, the nape of your neck, but you aren't coherent enough to try to understand it — you feel floaty and wonderful, so euphoric that it almost hurts, crying out for more even as you wonder if you can take more at all.

Levi fucks you and fucks you and fucks you and you come what feels like constantly, getting a few brief moments of dizzy reprieve to suck in some desperate breaths before you’re shuddering into an orgasm yet again. It never seems to end, and even as you lie there prone in a puddle, you don’t want it to end. You want all of it —

“Mine! Mine! Mine,” he growls in your ear, releasing pleased little hisses that echo nonstop in your ears. The repetitive echoes of his possessive hisses and moans reverberate through your mind, sending shivers down your spine. The intensity of his words, coupled with the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, create a whirlwind of pleasure and surrender. It feels like your brain has become a warm liquid puddle, oozing right out from your ear as his warm breath bathes your senses.

As you gasp for breath, the only response you can manage is a breathless affirmation of your complete surrender to him. “Yours,” you repeat again and again in an endless mantra.

Time loses all meaning. For some time, all you know is the hard snap of his hips and the hot slide of his cock. The scent of sex and sweat is so thick in the air that it's almost difficult to breathe. You lose track of how many times you come and how many times he works the rounded swell of his knot past your rim. The only sounds you know are the pleasured grunts and groans alongside the rapid filthy slap of slick scales on skin.

Full. You feel so full, all of your insides filled to bursting, coated with his sticky seed. You can't tell if the filthy slick sounds are from the slick gushing between you or the copious amount of seed sloshes inside you with every thrust. Everytime his knot pops free, it leaks from you in a long constant flow to cake your inner thighs and paint the bedding with a slick mess. He mourns the loss by adding more and more in an endless cycle.

As Levi's moments of awareness eventually begin to lengthen, you start to witness the stark contrast between the beast's intense, primal strength and the tender gentleness that emerges when he regains control. In those fleeting moments, he becomes a nurturing presence, focused on soothing and caring for you.

After his release, he immediately directs his attention to your well-being. With soft, careful licks, he tends to the nicks and cuts he's left on your skin, his tongue offering a soothing touch that promotes healing. His efforts extend beyond the surface wounds, as he seeks to ease the soreness that lingers in your thighs and core, bringing you comfort and relief.

However, the intimate act of his healing touch quickly reignites the fire within him. The surge of desire and the primal instincts that drive him overwhelm his control once again, leading to another passionate encounter. It becomes a cycle of tenderness followed by unrestrained passion, each phase intertwining in a dance of intensity and intimacy.

Despite the unpredictable nature of Levi's shifts between the beast and his gentle self, you find solace in the moments of tenderness he offers, cherishing the connection and care that shines through even amidst the raw, consuming desire.

By the end of the first day, Levi’s regained enough control to focus on basic needs. He insists that both of you eat some leftover deer, heat simmering in his eyes as he watches your throat bob with every swallow. His control snaps shortly after you eagerly gulp down some fresh water. With nighttimes soft starlight filtering softly through the entrance, the final time he fucks you is much slower, though no less frantic and heated.

In the aftermath of your intense encounter, Levi embraces you in a protective huddle of his scaly body and strong muscles. His presence is a comforting shield, offering a sense of security and warmth. You observe him as he quickly succumbs to a deep slumber, his usually alert and intense demeanor replaced by a profound exhaustion. It strikes you as odd to witness him in such a vulnerable and peaceful state, completely surrendered to sleep. Normally, he struggles so much. It’s a rare sight to witness him in such a vulnerable and peaceful state, completely surrendered to sleep. The sight warms your heart.

As you observe him snoring softly, warm puffs of air escaping his lips in a steady rhythm, your thumb instinctively finds the healed mark along the side of your throat. It serves as a constant reminder of the profound connection you now share. His. You're his now. His mate, a permanent, lifelong connection. Just the same, he's yours as well, even if you can't leave behind your own mark on his throat. You find solace in the fact that you’ve shared an intense connection that has left both of you physically and emotionally spent. As you drift off to sleep, nestled within his protective embrace, you feel a deep sense of contentment and safety, alongside soreness and satisfied exhaustion.

You awake to a gust of hot breath in your ear, resulting in a long shutter dragging down your spine. He's behind you, spooning you as he works the tip of himself past your rim. You're so soaked that he must have already mouthed you in preparation.

This time, he fucks you roughly, pulling one of your legs back up and over his hip with a tight clasp. This time, his knot doesn't swell. Instead, he plugs you with the tip of his tail. The entirety of your day is spent in a sticky, wet daze of pleasure.

After two long and intense days, Levi's heat finally subsides, the overwhelming waves of desire gradually diminishing. As the heat fades, a sense of relief washes over both of you, replacing the raw intensity with a calmness and a renewed sense of connection. The exhaustion from the passionate encounters lingers, leaving you both in need of rest and recovery. With the fading of his heat, a new phase of your relationship begins. An entirely new life, one with unknown twists and turns, lies just over the horizon.

#naga!levi #levi x reader #levi/reader #levi x reader smut #levi ackerman smut #tw; snakes #tw; knotting #n.sfw #fem!reader

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cogcltrcorn · 1 year ago

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VOTE FOR SERGEY AND OLEG!

they are:

- obviously originally conceived by their creator as queer, and then continuously disregarded by the publisher despite MASSIVE love for them from the fandom. their current status (alive, in the center of their own series, written and drawn by queer creators) is a massive fucking win. they fought the narrative and they won. in all their weird glory

- sergey (the redhead one, also the serial killer that really started all this) was originaly a parody of a russian tech millionaire pavel durov (creator of vk and telegram), who himself is like, basically mark zuckerberg but a fuckboy. so like. this is the second time when a tech millionaire was turned gay by fiction writers against his will. and I think it's beautiful.

- in his first appearance sergey's magnificent plan is to:

kill a bunch of corrupt people and become a widely publically supported vigilante (the Plague Doctor)

reveal himself as said vigilante

run for president using the public support

do a fascism when he gets to power

this plan is unfortunately foiled, because he gets recorded revealing his plan and his disdain for the common man by the protagonist of the comic while sergei makes him run through his torture labyrinth completely naked. yes if you were wondering sergey WAS wearing a purple cheetah print robe and yes he DID make a comment of appreciation about the protag's cock

what I am saying is: he sucks. he sucks so bad. I love him dearly

- oleg is his childhood friend and was conceived SPECIFICALLY as the "guard dog" archetype. he is loyal to a fault and he sticks with this hysterical redhead bitch through all of his stupid fucking bullshit. he has likely committed war crimes. he was a mercenary. his surname literally means wolf. he is hot as hell. he cooks. he has almost died by sergey's hand (got shot. five fucking times. was like. presumed dead) but still went back to save him. they shared an appartment in college. he defended him from bullies when they were little. I know his dick is 11 inches. I know it in my soul.

those guys held me in a vice fucking grip throughout my teen years and I will never be free. they left a permanent imprint on my psyche. they are weird codependent objectively evil and also ridiculous. they went from homophobic caricatures to the most beloved characters in the fandom. vote for them.

Gay wrongs tournament, round 1 of the minor bracket

Propaganda:

For Mick Rory and Leonard Snart:

The only supervillains on that show that understood the assignment. Thieves with a flare and loyal only to eachother. Eventually become anti heroes on legends of tomorrow but I liked them best as villains. The best part of both shows. Over the top and committed to the theme for the vibes. Puns and crime.

Fire and ice pairing!

For Sergey and Oleg: (propaganda from the previous tournament here)

They're so married!!! The domesticity oh my god they live together and they sleep in the same bed and they're worried if the other isn't here when they wake up and they take care of each other when they're sick. Sorry, the latest issue was a lot. Anyway, the crime-doing part. They're both officially criminals and they're wanted in quite a few countries for various reasons: in Russia they killed A Lot of people in various bloody and/or arson-y ways (most famously rich corrupted people, which only antagonists can do) and blew up some stuff (which also killed a lot of innocent people) and kidnapped other innocent people just to get revenge on one guy who was just doing his job (the cop who got Sergey in prison while Oleg was out of the country) (and technically Oleg breaking Sergey out of prison is also a crime, on top of all his solo mercenary stuff). In Italy they also killed people and also broke countless laws (you can even count building safety laws in here for fun), in Mexico (honeymoon!) they had a run-in with the local mafia and that also ended bloodily, in a few other countries they were mostly just evading the law but you can't really do that without breaking other laws. They stole at least one helicopter (after killing the soldiers in it). And that's all *before* the current series. In that one they're coercing someone into becoming a vigilante (an already wanted by the law vigilante), and they're trying not to do so much public things, because they like being presumed dead and not being on the run. But that doesn't stop them from bloodily killing anyone who threatens them or Lera (the med student under the new Plague Doctor costume) or their plan, or defending themselves (by killing people) when the consequences of their past actions come around (does it even count as legitimate defense when you kill almost all the henchmen of the guy who wants to kill you because years ago his parent was an unfortunate victim of your beef with someone totally unrelated? Not sure). And yes *technically* they're killing other criminals, but also they are much worse criminals themselves (as said on- page by a secondary character who was trying to kill them because of, well, all the past terrorism / murder).

They're widely considered to be the worst people in a town full of criminals. A lot of people want to kill them, because of all the murders they did earlier. In all their appearances they're either the most married couple of a series that also has real married couples, or extremely efficient killers who don't have a qualm disposing of everybody else's henchmen.

#major grom comics #bubble comics #sergey razumovsky #oleg volkov #сероволк #баббл не отпускает меня уже??? 7 лет??? спасите

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veryspecialfungus · 3 years ago

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can i interest you in a dion & morris friendship. idk why but i feel like these two would have a "only one of them has the braincell at any given time and you can never tell which" sort of chaotic dynamic. i don't know how to explain it i just know that morris would keep a quote book full of stupid/funny things his friends say and dion would end up contributing a lot of stupid shit to that. dion would be doing an acrobatics routine and morris would be ironically heckling/cheering him on. morris daring dion and gisu to do stupid shit and learning which buttons to push to get dion to actually do the stupid shit.

like i just. i may just be projecting a dynamic that wouldn't even work but like. the image in my head of these two interacting on any level of friendliness is just two chaotic dumbasses going at it. they have a hairstyle rivalry that's mostly just a bit. they are mutual annoyances. vitriolic dion & morris friendship my beloved

also it'd probably take them a while to even get to the point of "annoys the other out of friendship" but like. once they get past the vitriol it just turns into one giant bit

i'm sorry if none of this was coherent i just really needed to ramble this brainrot out of my head.

Dion realizes that he doesn't actually know where Queepie has been going every day since they got to this stupid forest with its stupid singing rocks or whatever and stupid ape man thing diorama in the cave and stupid weird girl in the pancake place who yells at animals and stares at him like a serial killer whenever he's in eyeshot. He may or may not be having some complicated feelings about his relationship with Raz right now, and decides that he should at least check on his other little brother so that doesn't go all weird on him too.

He tracks down that awful radio rock song to the Psychonauts headquarters, which he thinks he's probably not allowed near? But nobody stops him when he hops over the floating platform thingies and they can read minds right? Like, if he wasn't supposed to be here, they'd find him. He thinks they would, but maybe psychics DON'T actually force their way into your mind like he'd been told they did all his life? He's learned a lot of really obvious things about psychics recently and the little voice in his head that says that he might only be dating (and there's a MASSIVE question mark there, they haven't actually...talked. About that.) a psychic because she's mind-controlling him into it has been getting quieter and quieter.

He wants to be able to say something cool like "if that's mind control, take my free will any time" except he can't make it sound good when it comes out of his mouth. He practiced it last night. Mom overheard and she gave him The Look, and The Look only comes out when she can't find the words to tell him what he's doing wrong but it's SOMETHING and he'd better knock it off.

Anyway, he flips up the pipe, up the branches, and through the window and the first thing he sees is Queepie dancing his tiny heart out and the first thing he hears is a slightly accented voice say "Hey! You're gonna make it skip!"

Dion turns around and sees a kid sitting in lawn chair with a giant bubble of something underneath. It takes him a minute to place where he's seen it before: Raz, zipping back and forth across the forest on some non-circus business on a ball of...brain power stuff, Dion guesses.

Queepie shouts in the most irritating little kid voice: "Hey Dion, look! His hair's better than yours!"

And the kid gets this giant shit-eating grin and runs his hand through his ridiculous purple pompadour and goes "Yeah. I know."

It started there. And it continued when Dion learned that Morris had one up on him: he already knew who Dion was because he was friends with Gisu. And he'd been broadcasting all the things he used to believe about psychics as station breaks! Wheelchair or not, Dion could have strangled him right on the spot.

But...not in front of his brother. And maybe not where Gisu would find out he did it either. Except no, he can't do that either because Morris apparently knows everything about everyone and maybe he IS reading minds or maybe everyone in the entire Psychonauts is gossiping about them because somehow Morris always seems to know where they're going to be. It's not like the tall guy with the hat who sometimes calls Dion "ladykiller" on the rare moments they see each other, not to him but to Gisu when she's standing near him like it's a private joke between them. He's always smiling when he says it, and it's not a mean smile like the girl in the orange who prods him about the stuff she's heard him say like she's being sneaky. The blue girl and the serial killer don't seem to care, and that leaves Morris, and Morris is a pain in the butt.

Morris likes to give Gisu and Dion shout outs on his radio station when he knows they'll be out alone and then his mom hears it on Queepie's radio and finds them immediately and drags them back to the caravan for "supervision." He hasn't even stopped since Gisu slugged him. Morris also likes to tease Gisu about how scrawny Dion is, and it makes Dion get hot in his chest and grit his teeth and point out that he has an ACROBAT'S build and he can't even figure out why he feels that way when Morris says crap like that. And then he feels the need to prove Morris wrong and Morris AND Gisu egg him on while he's doing stunts and before he knows it he's juggling fire while standing on his hand and then Gisu has to go smuggle a first aid kit out of Otto's lab.

"See, I told you I could do it!" says Dion while Gisu yanks at his hand while bandaging his burns.

"You sure did. Too bad I didn't have a camera for that one."

"I bet I could get Otto to give me one," says Gisu, with a gleam in her eye, and it's Morris who says "oh, heck yeah!" genuinely excited. And so is Dion.

And late that night, when Gisu is sleeping under the stars and using her skateboard as a pillow and Dion and Morris are letting marshmallows burn to a crisp in the caravan's campfire, the two of them talk, and every other sentence that comes out of their mouths is "you're such a douchebag."

And he is. Dion thinks Morris is a complete douchebag. He's going to let him film him doing the stunt, and that's going to show Morris how much of a douchebag Dion isn't, even though Morris keeps calling him that.

Until then, Dion puts more logs on the fire, and Morris keeps talking.

#ask #dion aquato #morris martinez #psychonauts #I'm tagging this because I actually like how it turned out #fanfic #I myself am surprised this came out of me #I guess it inspired me

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feathers-fallen-on-riverdale · 3 years ago

Text

Season 1 Episode 2: Chapter 2 - A Touch Of Evil ⬇️

[Ep. Statues: Already Watched/First Time Watching + Remember/Vaguely/Don't Remeber]

WHAT is it with this show and showing me that nasty ass board?

Am I horrible person for laughing at Jason's facial expression when he's laying on the corner's table?

😑😒 I'm gonna be seeing this man's unrealistic abs for a while aren't I?

Jesus Christ bro put a shirt on you'll catch a cold.

"This isn't a negotiation this is our lives." Okay bitch you meant your life.

Fred every time you show up on my screen I start thinking this show is worth it. Also give me stories of Jughead's tree house.

"An accidental drowning, who cares?!" AGAIN are we sure Betty's mom isn't the phsyco?

Betrayed you? Alice here is acting like they violated some ancient treaty or something. Remind me again who's the teenage girl?

Okay go Betty! Being all emotionally intelligent!

"Watch it Wednesday Addams!" TRANS JUGHEAD CONFIRMED?!!!

(Jellybean made the patches for him when he came out! He also has them as pins beside the crown pin on his beanie)

AGAIN #LetKevinHitThat2022

VERONICA GOT HER FLOWERS! 🤩🤩🤩. Nooo not yellow for friendship they should be red and pink and there should be violets there too because sapphic and.... hold up I gotta search something up.

Tulips, peonies, purple hyacinths and white orchids.

HERS AND HERS MENI PEDIS. jdjksjs the nail tech asks them how long they've been together and Betty says they just got together before Veronica can get a word out.

What is it with the Lodge women and pearls. Oh god I just got the vivid image of early 20s Hiram Lodge with a single dangly pearl earring. Might try and edit that later.

Edit: I did it!!!!

(I think Hiram would have done drag at least once in his life. What would his drag name be?)

Wow okay Jughead caught on fast go on gender King!

Girl the fact that Kevin left Betty high and dry for Moose. He's breaking the gay best friend stereotype you're honour 😢 /sarcasm

"Once again, fate throws us together once more" uhuh fate being Kevin's hornieness for Moose dick. Mmmm maybe Kevin's onto something? #KevinShipsBeronica perhaps?

Jesus they're really laying the guilt tick on Archie.

Shipper Veronica? Good to know.

... I really don't want to be mean. But. Archie you can't sing for shit.

Oh Betty.... you're GAY.

...... Grundy is really being fucking manipulative. Did she kill Jason?

JUGHEAD. JUGHEAD IN HERE COME HELP YOUR CARROT TOP.

Mmmmh I don't like this passive aggressive honeymoon phase Beronica are in.

😧 Betty you bitch. Okay now I can see how these 2 (Betty and Cheryl) are related.

Awwww Betty tutoring dyslexic Archie my beloved. After she tutors Archie and she gets a little older she states tutoring other neurodivergent and disabled kids. She tells her mother it's for her college application but it's actually it's so she can keep an eye on her own and create a support system within Riverdale.

Is Cheryl hitting on Betty? Godamit if they weren't related I'd ship that. Okay neverMIND 😬. That ship sank about as fast as it floated.

Wha????? Okay that.... escalated. Wasn't a serial killer gene mentioned in later seasons?

Jughead is me when it comes to Grundy.

"There's more?" - The damming words of one Jughead Jones in season 1 of a CW show.

Me @ Jughead:

Also I'm surpised but Jughead seems to have the single brain cell on this show (expect for Fred Andrews).

Archie, do you actually believe this? Oh this is getting too real too fast.

Okay Alice is giving facebook woman. Also the pagan comment is.... icky.

The transphobia against my boy is evil. Also not Reggie picking up on Jarchie vibes.

Again Fred is being the best person on this show.

But after this, does Archie like, talk to anybody about him and Grundy? About how there was obvious a power imbalance and grooming?

Also the Jarchie moments are so genuine. At least this side of the polycule is coming along nicely.

This feels way too professional for a highschool cheer squad. But what do I know, America is weird.

Oh. Cheryl is feeling the full blow of her trauma. I wonder how this is gonna be handled.

"He was supposed to come back" !? OH I remember now. He was supposed to run away with Polly and Cheryl was in on it. Him drowning was supposed to be a cover up.

Omg Beronica first date!

Oh a vow 😏. "Yes Betty lets commit interact rituals together. No boy will get between us."

Omg double date! The Riverdale polycule is assembling!!!!!!!!!

Oh I remember Cheryl's arrest so vividly this makes no sense to me. Staring to remember bits and pieces? I remember Jason's father had something to do with it definitely.

Unhinged rating: 1/10. The unhinged has suddenly plummeted. There were some genuine moments in there but it got dark real quick, from Alice being a psycho to Archie being groomed. But the dialogue is still Like That and the polycule is solidifying.

Starting several new segments:

Archie ab shot count (per episode then added together per season): Two. The first was more subtle the second just made me cringe.

Cheryl's Bitch-O'Meter: 🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹🏹|🏹🏹

A hefty 8/10 bow and arrows because of her moment at Betty's house.

Is it a bird? A plane? No it's a new headcannon pulled right out of thin air! :

Trans(masc) Jughead

Wednesday Addams/General Addams family stan Jughead

Veronica speaks flower language

Betty and Veronica's nail tech think they're a couple

Hiram Lodge used to wear a single dangly pearl earring in his 20s.(and still does on special occasions)

Drag Queen Hiram Lodge

#KevinShipsBeronica. He's our in-canon captain of the ship

Veronica is a diehard shipper (of what you ask? Anything)

Archie is a horrible singer but still writes lyrics

Betty creates a support group for neurodivergent/learning disabled people for her and Archie

Season 1 Alice Cooper is a facebook mom

Riverdale polycule first date/go to date idea is milkshakes at Pop's

Tag list (you can ask to be added [or removed]) though I doubt anyone will ask: @youre-only-gay-once

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the-illiterate-pirate · 3 years ago

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Hi! Can I request a Kira x Reader where the reader also has a hand kink? 👀 I would request a pucci x reader but hand kink man my beloved 😫💕

-Totally some random acc and not Dirty-brainrot.

No it couldn't possibly be Dirty it says so right there

Oh man sorry about that it's just your request reminded me of someone I know.

Anywho, here's an obligatory apology for this taking so long to come out 🙏 Also I'm afraid I wasn't able to put in too much hand kinky-ness on the readers part :( this is mostly pointed at Yoshikage being horny. But maybe I can make it up to you with bottom-bitch Kira

Put Your Loving Hand Out, Baby

Warnings; Nsfw, modern-ish AU, no stands (bc let's face it Yoshikage can't not be a serial killer if he's got THAT kind of power), slight choking, woman on top, Yoshikage Kira's hand kink, hehehe I forced him into being a bottom

With a precious white Persian cat napping on your chest, you didn't see anyway your day off could have gotten better. Until your husband entered your home.

"Yoshikage? Didn't they need you at work today?"

The cat was awake at the sound of the door. She mewled out as if she too wanted to know.

"It was a false alarm, by the time I got over to my department they were already overstaffed by three others and they said I could go home." He sighed, undoing his tie from his neck. "I'm going to change into something more comfortable, I'll be in the bedroom." You hummed to let him know you understood.

After the blond's leave you continued to play with the Persian. You loved Queen, and she loved you. To Yoshikage's surprise, his usual cynical kitten (even hissy with him) had developed a soft spot for you, and you for her. There was no other place in the villa he could find his cat other than in your arms.

(Or the food bowl)

Queen looked past you into space with those beautiful big pink eyes of hers, before skittering off somewhere new. You were confused why, until you felt your husband's arms wrap around your neck.

"That was an invitation to join me in the bedroom, you know." He murmured against your shoulder.

"Mm, maybe. But I couldn't have left Queen in here all by herself!" You argued. But now Queen was gone, and you were left to fight your strikingly handsome husband alone.

You'd never seen a grown man pout before. But that didn't mean your husband didn't look incredible cute when he did. "Queen has been given enough attention." He huffed, sitting down on the other end of the couch. He startled you by picking you up and propping you up in his lap.

"Now it's my turn."

Snuggling into his built chest you joked with him, "Fine. I swear, you're so needy sometimes."

He stayed quiet. His lips only traveled up and down the column of your neck with his hands rubbing your hips. His attack was soft, and more of a way to comfort you than rile you up. It felt good. Yoshikage's lips were soft, like fine silk against your skin. They left you tingling.

"Mmm~, my boy has been so busy lately. Maybe I should reward him for his hard work, yes?" Your husband's breath hitched in his throat once you dragged your hands up his chest. Your nails scratched up the showing skin to wrap around his neck and drag your fingers through his hair. He easily melted under your touch, pressing his face deeper into your neck while his eyes closed in pleasure. "But first, may we move to the bedroom?" You'd never knew Yoshikage Kira to be an inpatient man, but the speed in which he left the living room with you bridal style in his arms was possibly a new record.

Of course, Yoshikage was a man of practice and routine, you tried helping him keep to it, even if it means pausing your love making. In the heat of the moment you don't doubt he was ready to have you right where you were. But he'd come to freight and worry over it later, you were sure. (as sweet as it sounds, you'd feel bad)

He still had you on top of him. Shutting the door, he sped over to the royal purple bed where he flopped down uncharacteristically and scooped you back up, his silent way of telling you were on top. It wasn't every night Yoshikage let you take control and you certainly weren't going to waste the opportunity. Over hearing some talk has left you with ideas you were almost excited to try on him.

You had to admit, earlier in the relationship you were a bit weirded out by his... preferences during sex. But after indulging him time after time you begun to take immense joy over having such a hold on this man. Hell, you could say his attention to your hands gave you a new appreciation for his, too.

"Such gorgeous hands," You cooed after leaving your husband's lips. You didn't break apart not even after his moving to the bedroom, having had stayed in a passionate lock the entire time. They finally separated with a loud smack. Moving to hold his hand in your own, you pressed it against your wet mouth, giving gentle pecks to the finely manicured fingers. "Such perfect nails,"

Without his knowing your unoccupied hand left from around his neck to undo the button of his pants. He had to suck in a short breath at the feeling of your hand wrapping around his sensitive member.

You didn't get to finish your sentence. Yoshikage was grinding your core onto his hardened cock leaving you moaning breathlessly. There was a scuffle between the two of you where Yoshikage worked off his designer pants and you did they same for yours. Your husband was left in all his glory beneath you, such a beautiful body with not a scratch on him. There was a tremble to his lips as he looked up at you, silently praising you as the goddess you were on his bare lap.

"Oh, my lovely husband~," You cooed to the man, fingers dancing over his chest, ghosting him with your nails and sending electricity down his spine. "Do you want me to use my hands on you?" It was such a silly question for the man but it was always good to ask. There was always the chance he wanted something new, and you were eager to please.

"Oh, my darling wife~" He all but whined back to you, holding your hands in a loving embrace between his own, feeling up the precious skin. "I'd love to have these beautiful hands wrapped around my throat, if you'd indulge me in such a vulgar act?"

Choking. That wasn't anything you've indulged in yet. It wasn't that you were worried, though it felt so foreign. Was he sure he trusted you with such an act?

"Your wish is my command, dear."

You shimmied out of your panties. After throwing them away to a new part of the room you sat back down on Yoshikage's stiff member. You grinded down on the hardened flesh a bit, enjoying the feeling of him just barely pressing against the parts of you that needed him most, before you finally let his cock sink into you.

You both silently praised the feeling of finally connecting. Once the original shock of it faded you began to bounce on him. Soft and slow, with your hands making a show of grabbing on to his left pec and his neck. Just the simple grab was enough to get his eyes rolling into his skull. A soft squeeze got him wheezing out groans for more. The hand not pressing your own harder into his neck was clawing at your hip, definitely leaving marks for later.

Yoshikage filled the quiet between you two with soft whimpers and moans. He looked like he was in heaven with simply having your nails digging into his skin. He was a simple man to please, but that didn't stop you from going overboard with his pleasure.

Bent down, so your face was level with his chest, you pressed soft kitten licks to the crescent scars on his pecs from where you've clawed him. Licks turned into pecks turned into kisses trailing up, until you were sucking at the skin behind his ear, a sweet spot you used against him time and time again.

His moans went higher in pitch. Now he was using both hands to ram you down on his dick. The way he pressed himself against your insides had your mind reeling. You were so close... But you had to wait.

Although... Thinking on it Kira probably wouldn't be against a hand job to help him finish. No, even so, you wanted him to come with you.

So you bounced on his hips harder. You squeezed his neck tighter with both hands holding onto him like it was the only thing keeping you up. You stopped your kisses to whisper sweet nothings into your husband's ear. Things that made him sigh, and cry, and almost scream your name if it wasn't for the hand blocking his breathing way.

"Yes, Yoshikage! Right there! Ah~, You love it when I use you like this, right? Like my own personal toy, with my hands around your throat?"

"Ghk–! Y-Yes!" He was in disarray with a dazed look in his deep blue eyes. With eyes rolled back and drool slipping from his lips, he was openly begging for air and not getting it. And yet he continued to push your hands deeper into his own neck.

He trusted up into you. You threw away words and simply began to sing to each other with soft cries for more. That familiar feeling of impending pleasure made itself known. It curled itself deep in your gut waiting to

explode. You let your husband know. You cried Yoshikage's name, warning him of your oncoming orgasm. You slammed down on to him at once just as he threw his hips onto you one last time, and you both erupted. With a final cry of your name Yoshikage let himself spill inside you unprotected, his shot leaving you feeling full and hot.

Exhaustion hit you like a bomb, you collapsed on top of your husband, gasping for air. Yoshikage wasn't much better after your hands left his throat. You could tell his neck was red and raw, but he looked happier than anything, still dazedly staring up into space.

You both stayed in comfortable silence while sticky heat grew between you two. Once it became unbearable you had to detach from your other half to your side of your shared bed. The blond still held your hand in a soft hold, massaging your sore fingers and palm while he stared at you in love. "Such a perfect wife I have," He whispered, almost like he was going to pass out. "I think we should try this again."

-----

Everyone always talks about what's the best Yoshikage, but it's so clearly obviously that

This. This is the best Yoshikage

So casual.... So pretty......I love..... This, plus D.C. Douglas' voice acting is *smooch* muy bien

Tbh I don't feel too good about this one Chief :( I really wanted to do something else but I was halfway through this and figured I was already taking long enough, sooooo

Maybe in the future someone else will request David Bowie, and then I'll be able to do him justice. And maybe then will be the day I can finally write for limb kinks properly lmao

Up next is the Weather Report!

#jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba x reader #kira yoshikage x reader #yoshikage kira #hand kink #jojo smut #steamy writing

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kosmosguk · 4 years ago

Text

Bloody Artistry (M) ~🥀

pairing: celeb! kim taehyung x journalist! reader; minor pairings: jungkook x reader, coworker jimin x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 8K

Summary: when the scrutiny of fame becomes too much, perfect kim taehyung finds his peace within a lavish bathroom located two blocks away from the nearest club, a corpse in the bed with him. the fans have never questioned his behavior, not when his company is much too good at cleaning up his mess to not have done it before, but when a reporter with too many questions threatens to break the peace he’s established, he finds himself in a tango with the devil that he can’t bring himself to want to break.

[Warnings: MURDER, death, literally Taehyung being a sick bastard 25/8 (but only in fiction), company corruption, violence, yandere themes, mentions of noncon smut (intoxication, mentions of being drugged, fingering), blackmail, obsession, stalking. EVERYTHING that happens in this fic is FICTION; plz don’t go busting nuts for serial killers]

A/N: Thank you to yoongissugarmommy for requesting this! Part 1 of a short series starring Taehyung. Was going to do smth similar to Lineage with him, but this has been staying in my drafts for too long (like i wrote most of this before I even wrote Lineage, which is why my writing for part of this is a bit different from my current one), and I feel like going a bit modern now to take a break from Lineage (taking a bit to write pt. 4 just because it’s the end of the main story). Thank you for 2.9k followers! We’re only less than 50 away from 3K which is so wild to think about; kisses and hugs to everyone who’s supported my work!

“Today, in the studio, we have our nation’s golden boy, the first love of all of our viewers: Kim Taehyung. Everyone, please clap your hands for him!’’

The MC turned to grin at the audience as the audience cheered loudly; her glossy black hair swept down and framed her face delicately in perfect shiny strands. The lipstick that coated her unnaturally wide smile was a deep shade of red, stark against her pale white skin. Dressed in her primly pressed suit, she looked lovely, like a blooming rose, but as she turned to face the guest star, his presence seemed to easily outshine her own.

“Thank you for having me. It’s an honor to have an interview here and have an opportunity to see all of my lovely fans,’’ Taehyung’s deep voice rang out as he smiled in his heart-swooning way, flashing pure-white teeth handsomely in a carefully maintained and practiced way that made all the fans, both in the studio and watching from beyond a screen, unable to resist letting out shrieks and screams.

“Now, Taehyung-ssi, with a record-breaking album that topped the charts as soon as it came out and a modelling gig that sells out magazines faster than before, how does it feel to have really made it? It must stress you out. Any tips on how to relax?’’

Taehyung leaned back slightly in his seat, his smile flashing coy for a brief second before settling into a rehearsed contemplative expression. He shrugged his shoulders, letting them drop out, as he made a soft hmm noise.

“How I relax? It’s not that big of a deal, really, but that’s an interesting question to ask, noona,’’ Taehyung widened his eyes slightly, looking ever so much like the golden boy persona he had stickered upon his reputation,’’ When I’m really, really stressed, I like to play with Tannie, my dog, and eats lots of yummy food that my mom sends to me when I get stressed. Also, my manager Namjoon is a good person to talk to when I’m really stressed; he always knows what to do and say.’’ Taehyung tapped the tip of his nose lightly, scrunching his face in an expression that made fans coo in adoration. “I also like to think of my fans and read all the letters they’ve sent me. I saved all of my letters from my beloved fans since my debut, and I like looking through them.’’

“Hey, Kim Namjoon, fucking hurry up,” Taehyung hissed into the cellphone pressed against his flawless cheek,” My shoes are going to get stained at this point. You know blood is a pain to properly get out of letter.’’

“Were you at least careful this time? We don’t want rumors getting out,” Namjoon’s voice crackled over the receiver, barely a hint of emotion in his voice. The beeping and honking of cars on his side of the phone call signaled the rush his manager was making towards his location.

Taehyung huffed in agitation, clicking his tongue sharply in annoyance as he skimmed his nails for any trace of dried blood. “Oh, come on, you think I really even care at this point? With the way the company takes care of everything, you’d think perfect ol’ me was…well perfect. But still, aren’t you guys way too good at this job? 7 girls and not even a peek from the public. Who else do you do this for, huh? Suga-sunbae? J-hope-sunbae?”

There was no reply. Taehyung threw his gaze over to the practically mangled body. Too bad, he thought to himself, she was really pretty this time. Red lipstick, silky black hair, wanted to become better acquainted with such a famous celebrity after her little interview, the whole fanatic spiel tied with a pretty bow of the title of an mc. She would’ve never thought that she’d go from being a bed-warmer to being so cold.

“I must be right then, huh? Suga-sunbae I can see, but J-Hope-sunbae…’’ Taehyung whistled lowly under his breath. “I thought you’d at least deny that. It’s the bright ones you gotta watch out for.’’

A dial noise was the only response. Did…Did this bastard hang up on him? Taehyung grimaced before three knocks rang on the door of the hotel suite, a signal from his asshole manager that Namjoon had finally arrived. Taehyung rolled back his shoulders, his joints crackling a little, and made sure all of his jewelry was perfectly back in place before he opened the door.

As Namjoon shuffled in with some of the staff members, Taehyung clasped his silver watch around his wrist with a soft click. He rolled his neck, trying to get the stiffness out of it, and exposed purple marks and bruises from the bites the now dead girl had given him when they had been fucking earlier.

Finally, his headache was gone.

You chugged down a cup of stale coffee and wiped the dribble of liquid that escaped the corner of your mouth as you clicked off some article about a newbie mc receiving slander after rumors of her making moves on a popular idol was exposed and disappearing to avoid the backlash. Squinting at your screen with dry eyes, you pursed your lips and snapped the laptop shut, pushing the device away from you in an agitated huff.

“Wbat’s got you in the gutters, huh? Let me guess…,’’ Park Jimin, your desk mate, rolled his chair over to your side, his glasses askew on his nose,” Ah, your favorite celebrity go into a dating scandal? Let me think, who was it that recently go into a scandal… Oh, is it that pretty boy from a new idol group?’’

You gave him the stink-eye, and your sigh this time was even louder.

“You’d think there’d be something more…interesting going with these celebrities that we could get our hands on. Too much money, lots of stress, yet no story that’ll really seize the audience by surprise, and don’t you dare say a dating scandal would do it. Boss’s been on my case for the whole week on writing an article to shock the audience and wants me to release a major headliner story in two weeks, or that asshole’ll fire me. Damn it, Kim Seokjin!” you hissed out before slamming your forehead onto the desk.

“Man, be careful with your volume; if he hears your tone, he’ll chew you out for another hour that you could be using to research. Boss Kim is picky like that with everyone because our company’s a small piece of seaweed in a system dominated by crustaceous predators.” Jimin poked you in the side jokingly, his plush lips spread in a wide smile that lit up his exhausted face. “Just think really hard; use that big brain of yours and focus on a celebrity. Come on, no one’s perfect, even that one super famous idol Kim Taehyung must have some flaws, so don’t sweat it.”

“That golden boy? Man, the whole nation’s pussy-whipped for him. He couldn’t possibly be anything bu—,’’ you sharply inhaled before pushing your seat back and rapidly swiveling to face Jimin,’’ Park. Fucking. Jimin. Oh my God, you’re a fucking genius! A whole career with not even a speck of dirt… Come on, even pure-faced idol Soyeon was caught with a scandal last month. There must be something on the nation’s golden boy!’’

Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise with your sudden outburst, and he opened his mouth to speak. “Be careful about the way you go when you try to fish out info on him. His company’s security isn’t something easy to get through, and not a single celeb from that company has gotten into a single scandal. No reporters been able to get any dirt from them…”

“Which means that…there’s something sketchy happening. Jimin, Jimin, have I told you I’m in love with you?’’

You turned around quickly in your chair, spinning in glee. Jimin dropped his mouth open to sputter something, and his cheeks were tinging red, but you weren’t looking at or even listening to Jimin at hat point, having already cracked open your laptop to furiously type Kim Taehyung into Naver. This was it! Your big break! Your motivation sky-rocketed, and you felt the first rush of energy that wasn’t fueled by some caffeinated drink in a long while.

Two hours later, you were ready to throw up.

All of the results were sickeningly the same bullshit, as what was expected for someone as beloved by the nation as Kim Taehyung was. You couldn’t fathom the amount of fancams and magazine spreads of him posing on some brown leather sofa and fact pieces—hell, you even knew what kind of socks the man liked—that you had spent the past hours scrolling through.

Realizing that the office was nearly empty, and that the sky was dimming into a dark hue, you were about to shut down your laptop and call it a long fucking day when a tweet on someone’s SNS caught your eye.

@truth-teller: kim taehyung? nation’s golden boy? are you all really sure about that nonsense?

The tweet was spammed with angered replies, so many that the thread seemed to stretch on for at least a mile, but your interest was piqued. This was the first word of slander you had ever witnessed against Taehyung. You quickly pounded out a message to the account.

@name_01: hey, I saw your tweet about taehyung! Do you perhaps have any more information on him? I find him suspicious too.

You tapped send and waited with bated breath for a reply. Minutes crept by, and you were about to turn off your phone and head out of work when you noticed three dots pop up, dancing before disappearing.

@truth-teller: you fr? I had to suspend my acc because of all the spam I got. No one’s believed me on it, but I have proof

You chewed on your lip. What if this was a joke, and you were just wasting your time on some internet troll with too much time on their hands. It seemed like you were taking too long to reply because another message popped up.

@truth-teller: if you don’t believe me then that’s fine. I don’t have to waste my time

@name_01: WAIT! Sorry, it took me a second to comprehend this information… Please tell me more.

You were worried that the account wouldn’t reply anymore, and that you had ruined your opportunity before the three dots popped up again and another message was sent.

@truth-teller: ok, if you want to find out more let’s move to a better messaging platform, just in case my acc gets suspended by more fans. here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxxx

It was a gamble to send some stranger on the internet your number, but at this point, you were too desperate to really give a damn. There was a story just out of the reach of your fingertips; you would be a fool to deny the carrot on a stick you were being provided.

@name-01: okay, I’ll message you.

Name: hey! Truth-teller right? This is me from the messages

JK: yeah that’s me. I prefer JK when I’m not on sns tho

Name: I’m (y/n). I don’t mean to sound like I’m hurrying you, but I want to hear what you have to say about Taehyung.

JK: lol r u a reporter or smth? Real bossy of you keke

You sucked in a breath. Should you reveal that?

Name: haha would it be bad if I said I was?

There was no response for the next 15 minutes. Exhaling a long sigh, you decided that you should at least maneuver your way home; the office had been cleared out completely during your conversation with this JK, and you couldn’t help the creeps that the emptiness gave you. If anything, the walk back to your place would give you some outlet for the nervous energy radiating throughout you. You were nearly at the door of your apartment when your phone vibrated in your pocket, signaling a message.

JK: just checking. Makes sense that you’re one though. It’d be nice if you could break this story out, but I hope you trust me enough after I tell you what I know

You clicked the door shut behind you, your eyebrows creased as you stared at your phone screen.

Name: don’t worry. I trust you!

You dropped your bag down onto the sofa before throwing your body onto the seat. The three dots under JK’s name popped up for several minutes before disappearing. In the place of the three dots, a long message had been typed out.

JK: I didn’t really think much of taehyung when I first heard about him since he’s the nation’s golden boy or whatever bs title they call him nowadays, but my sister’s friend was a big fan of him. she went out with my sister and they met him in some shady club in gangnam. my sister’s friend got to talk to him exclusively and my sister got separated from her and got a text from her friend saying that she had smth come up and she already went home. she tried to contact her friend the day after, but she got a text back saying that her friend wasn’t feeling well. my sister’s friend was “best friends’’ with her but she didn’t contact my sister again until a week later saying she got a job opportunity overseas and already was about to board on the plane because it was important she got there fast. my sister’s friend didn’t contact her again like she dropped off the face of the earth

You pursed your lips in contemplation as you tapped out a message back, your nails clicking against the screen.

Name: ?? Are you sure that isn’t a coincidence?

JK: yeah, I thought so too but it was rly sus that my sister’s friend who had known my sister for 12 years to suddenly go overseas for a job opportunity without telling her at all. and when my sister tried to get new contact info from her friend there was no reply. but I got curious and since I do some computer work for my job i wanted to see if I could track the ip address of her phone but there was nothing. her last previous ip was all the way back in gangnam and my sister’s friend lived in incheon. that was a red flag so I decided to go talk to the landlord at my sister’s friend’s old apartment and the landlord said he didn’t see her come back since before that night but woke up to a fully paid lease and the apartment cleared out

You squinted your eyes at the screen, unable to properly process the information that this so-called JK had just given you. Chewing on your lip, you closed your eyes briefly before opening them back up and typing back a message.

Name: anything else? Sorry…just seems a bit far-fetched.

JK: think whatever then. I have to go to work now

Right when JK’s message popped up, another message pinged on your cell. You refused to let yourself ponder more on JK’s last message as you clicked on your friend’s text notification.

Platonic LOML <3: BAE, R U FREE TONIGHT? I’m lonely n want someone to come with me to this club— ik you’re not into clubs but pretty please

You were about to reply with a refusal when JK’s words came up to your mind again. You didn’t know why, but there was a sharp feeling in your gut that told you that you couldn’t miss this opportunity Call it silly intuition or some coincidental fabrication spurned by your mind, but that feeling persisted until you typed out a reply to your friend.

Name: okay fine. Come over in 30.

Taehyung swirled the liquid in his glass, watching the deep burgundy of the wine stain the glass a soft pink. His head was hurting again, and the new medication he had been taking for them on advice of the company didn’t work.

He scanned the dim, musty club, watching the pulsating lights cloak the dancing bodies in sallow shades of pale yellow. This club was a downgrade from his previous celebrity-exclusive club that he had gone to the previous week, but his manager had told him that if he really wanted peace, he should choose an area where no one would really know him.

Taehyung knew the real reason why his manager had insisted on this. Deaths of other celebrities were much harder to cover up after all.

Pity he actually followed his manager’s advice for once. The wine in here, despite the bougie price tag, was complete shit and provided him a slight buzz at best. And there was no one who really caught his eye out of the crowd of people. As he was about to get up from his seat and leave the club for somewhere with better—he contemplated going back to that celebrity club just to fuck with his company—pickings, he caught sight of someone entering the club.

You looked absolutely gorgeous, swathed in a black shift that you kept fighting to keep over your ass—and god, was it a plump ass too, the kind that made Taehyung’s cock hard in his tight black pants—with hair framing your face in a breathtaking way that showed glimpses of sparkling jewelry. Your friend, some chick with dyed green hair that Taehyung didn’t bother paying attention to, was clinging onto your arm, dragging you near the dance floor.

Taehyung knew.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

His head seemed to clear from the mind-numbing throb it always had when he spent too much time without another victim to take his aggression out of. Feeling the cool metal of the blade he always had tucked near his body, Taehyung sat back down in his seat, a playful smile perking at the edges of his lips. Funny enough, the blood thirst that never seemed to properly leave him was gone from his mind, an occurrence that was as rare as the pills the company liked shoving down his throat actually working for once.

You maneuvered your way over to the bar, to him, your friend pouting as she noticed you leaving before melting away into the crowd of grinding bodies. Taehyung swore then and there that the attraction between you and him was absolutely magnetic, with the way you seemed to pull the other towards one another.

He watched as you ordered some pretty-colored martini, adorably scrunching your face as the burn of alcohol coated your tongue and hit the back of your throat with a singe.

Maybe, Taehyung though to himself as he propped his chin lazily on his palm, he should really start listening to his manager more often.

Your mind was in a haze, and you didn’t even notice the man next to you until he was nearly pressed to your side, barely leaving a gap of space between the two of you.

You glanced at him, your tipsy mind suddenly sobering up as you realized who the man sitting next to you was. Kim Taehyung? What the fuck was he doing here?

“Another drink for a pretty lady?” Taehyung’s teeth showed as he charmingly flashed an award-winning coquettish smile at you, his already extremely handsome features seeming to increase in beauty from the grin.

You remembered JK’s words and a chill ran up your spine. God, his messages didn’t seem so implausible now, did they? Goosebumps rose up on your skin, freezing you to the bar table. Were…Were you his next victim?

You swallowed dryly as you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. The side of you that was a reckless journalist wanted to take a nosedive at the headliner just out of reach, but the rational side of you knew that leap of faith had a much bigger chance of you ending up disappearing off for a new job opportunity overseas, as Taehyung’s company would have it. You couldn’t write a good story if you were dead, after all.

“Thank you, but I can pay for my own drinks,’’ your lips twitched slightly as you forced them into a hopefully convincing gentle smile, refusing his offer softly before moving your body casually a few inches away from him,” Having drinks bought by strangers isn’t really my thing.”

Your smile must’ve looked a hell of a lot less nervous than you actually felt and a lot more convincing too because Taehyung’s shoulders, which had previously been winded like he was a predator getting ready to pounce on prey, seemed to relax at your words.

There was a dark gleam in his eyes when he again invaded your personal space and pushed his body near yours. He leaned in and whispered softly into your ears, his voice clear despite the early 2010s hits blaring from the speakers by the dance floor.

“If you’re scared of strangers, why don’t we get to know each other a bit?’’

Your fake smile grew stiff on your face. You felt like you were going to hurl the convenience store meal of ramen that you had scarfed before coming to the club all over the bar and Taehyung’s expensive luxury bran clothes. You could feel a sense of dread in your bones, the kind a prey animal would feel as a predator focused its carnivorous attention on them.

You forced a fake laugh, trying to drive the message that you were just not interested to Taehyung as loud and clear as you could manage.

“No thanks; I have enough people I’m close to. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve left my friend alone for far too long on the dance floor.”

You pushed yourself off the bar table, flashing a strained polite smile before you headed over the dance floor, trying to keep your pace slow and steady instead of breaking out into the outright run you wanted to do.

Taehyung inhaled the linger scent of your perfume, a natural smell that sweetly layered itself over the damp musky air of the club. His eyes, even as you tried to focus on the pounding music and forget the fear embedded deeply in your gut, never seemed to leave your form. Even when you burrowed yourself deeply into the crowd away from his view, you could still feel it.

You found yourself painfully sober after that encounter, trying to look normal in front of your friend for the rest of the night that seemed to painstakingly drag on for eternity. Even when you had the short 2-minute walk from the cab you took to your front door, you didn’t stop looking over your shoulder, still feeling the chill that came with the thought of Taehyung’s gaze. When you got inside your home, the bubbling nausea in your stomach took control over you, and you ended up heaving your dinner down the toilet.

When you managed to somewhat pull yourself together, you typed out a quick message with practically shaking fingers to the only one you could think of in that moment would understand what you were feeling, You stared at your unsent message before hastily pressing send.Name: I didn’t know who to talk to, but I saw Taehyung at the club today. I think you’re right about what you said about Taehyung.

Name: I didn’t know who to talk to, but I saw Taehyung at the club today. I think you’re right about what you said about Taehyung.

Ping!

You barely managed to fall asleep that night, and your eyes painfully ached when you peeled your eyelids open, hurriedly grabbing your phone and turning it on to check your messages.

JK: what happened? Sry for late response. Job keeps me busy all night

Your fingers flew over the keyboard as you typed out your message, furrowing your eyebrows in concentration as you tried to relay the events of your night in hopefully comprehensible words.

Name: I went with my friend to some sketchy club idk what area at this point but I went to the bar and I felt someone come up to me ?? I turned and realized it was Taehyung, and he offered to buy me a drink but I declined. Makes me sick how I could’ve been his next victim, so I tried to leave and go back to where there was more ppl in the club, But I can’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes. There was something sickening in them, I couldn’t put my finger on it.

JK didn’t respond for a bit, and you exhaled a trembling breath when his message popped up.

JK: be careful. Im glad you managed to get away

Name: I’m scared. I didn’t know what to do, but hopefully I’ll never see him again once I get this scoop out.

JK: stay safe. Thx for telling me. Text me if anything else happens.

You let out a shaky breath before clicking your phone off, your nerves still rattled but slightly more calmed down after talking with JK. You had to get ready for work, but at this rate, you weren’t even sure how you would be able to get through the day. Maybe you should take a sick day? No, you couldn’t.

The elevator dinged closed behind you as you stepped out of it into the office. As you were about to take a seat at your desk, your boss rushed out of his office, relief, something he never showed to you, evident on his expression once he caught sight of you.

“(Y/n)! Come into my office; I have an important job for you,’’ your boss ushered you into his office without another word, practically pushing a baffled you into the room frantically,” You know the company that manages Kim Taehyung? They reached out and agreed to an exclusive one-on-one interview with Kim Taehyung only, and only, if you agreed to the interview.”

You stiffened, your body frozen as you tried to process the words your boss had just spoken. Your brain seemed to be running a marathon as you computed the words your boss said, and you could only meekly respond with a limp,” Why me? Can’t somebody…Can’t someone else take over? Boss…you know I’m not that experienced.”

Boss Kim barely paid any attention to your words as he rested a hand on your shoulder with a confident look on his face.

“Then, use this opportunity to get more experience. You want to show the world that you’re a journalist by getting a scoop? Then take this interview! You know the company never agrees to exclusive one-on-one interviews unless they’re all staged, but there wasn’t even talk of this being staged at all. If you can use this opportunity and get something big, won’t this be your biggest step towards a great journalist career?’’ your boss exclaimed,’’ If you back out, another chance like this won’t come again!”

As much of an asshole Boss Kim was sometimes, you could find the logic in his words. Besides, it must be a coincidence that Kim Taehyung wanted you specifically to give him an interview; maybe he wanted a newbie, so they wouldn’t have much experience trying to fish out personal details and twist his words.

That’s right. There was no way he even remembered what you looked like. You guys interacted for, what, a solid 2 minutes last night. And if you did this interview right, you could use it as a building block as evidence for the headliner you intended to release with what JK had told you.

You exhaled, nodding your head firmly.

“I will. I’ll take this interview.”

Boss Kim’s face brightened, making him look much more like the stereotypical handsome CEO character found in dramas. Since he always looked exhausted and stressed out, he always seemed more intimidating, an aura that seemed to scare off any thoughts about how gorgeous he actually was. You had to admit: your heart did flutter a bit at his face.

“Excellent! He’s waiting in the meeting room right now! You only need, what, six hours to prepare, right?”

Fuck, you take back that heart flutter. Boss Kim was an asshole.

“S-Sir,’’ you sputtered,” I can’t…’’

Before you even finished your words, Boss Kim was already ushering you back out of the office.

“I believe in you! You got this!”

He closed the door behind you. You swallowed back the mouthful of swears you wanted to spew before scrambling towards your desk.

You weren’t prepared, but you knew you would do anything for a scoop.

Exactly 6 hours and seventeen seconds later, you were primly seated in front of Kim Taehyung.

The seats were annoyingly too close, and you cursed Boss Kim in your heart, knowing that the reason why the chairs were placed in such an unprofessional manner was because Boss Kim wanted to create the perfect intimate setting for no cost. If you tried to extend your legs, you’d end up smacking them straight into Taehyung’s legs.

You, although disgruntled, had to admit that there was a reason why so many major brands wanted him as their model. He was handsome under the shitty lighting of the musty club last night, but here, with his hair and makeup carefully done despite the fluorescent lighting of the room, he was every synonym of the word beautiful combined into one person.

Blond strands of his hair brushed his chiseled features, and his eyes, curved attractively and framed with delicate long wisps of eyelashes, was intensely focused on your face. He looked ever like a marble statue, carved with attention and detail to be the most perfect specimen artistry could ever create. But he wasn’t perfect; that was what you knew. And that would also be what would you get just one step ahead of him.

You swept a piece of hair and tucked it behind an ear as you scanned your hastily scribbled notes. His eyes clung to that movement, as if he was mesmerized by your every action, and you peeked a look through your lashes. Your eyes met, and you forced a stiff smile.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you rolled your shoulders back into a proper posture, gingerly extending a hand out for him to take,” Good morning. It’s an honor to be able to do an interview with you.”

The edges of his lips tilted upward, and there was a playful glint in his eyes as his previous fiercely predatory state melted into the façade he put up in front of the public. He reached out and took your hand, throwing you off guard as he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“Likewise, it’s an honor to have an interview with you, (Y/n).’’

Yuck, you were going to have to wash your hands later. Anyways, what kind of person even kissed the back of people’s hands nowadays? This was the 21st century for fuck’s sake. You somehow kept your grimace to yourself.

You nervously laughed as you practically yanked your hand back out of his grasp. You casually wiped the back of your hand on the fabric of your skirt, disguising the movement as simply brushing off dust. Taehyung’s eyes didn’t leave any of your movements, and he laughed a little as he realized just what you were doing.

Oh, you were so interesting. You weren’t like the rest of them, the fans that threw themselves at him adoringly; hell, he was sure you weren’t even a fan. He was entranced. When he was close to you, the headaches seemed to fade; he didn’t want to drown himself in another body when he was with you. He didn’t want to kill when he was with you.

You ignored his burning gaze, breezing through the beginning parts of the interview. Finally, you reached the part that you had been anxiously preparing for.

“So, I heard that you’re trying out a new actor role. As a model and an artist and now an actor, we have to admit that your talents are incredibly versatile, Kim Taehyung-ssi.’’ You continued speaking. “Could you tell us a little more about this role?’’

“You flatter me too much, (Y/n).’’ He purposefully had left any formalities to the wind in this interview, a move that made you want to grind your teeth. “Yes, I was offered one of the leading roles in a new thriller movie. I’ll be acting as one of the charismatic but complex characters. I hope to show you and all of my fans a new side to Kim Taehyung.”

“Ah, a new side,’’ you nodded lightly,” Your new role as a charismatic serial killer who targets his admirers is certainly what many would call…complex. How do you go about preparing for such a twisted role?”

“Hmm…,’’ Taehyung’s lips curled up menacingly for a brief moment before fading away into a breezy smile,’’ It’s quite difficult to immerse myself into a role in which I have limited experience in, so I like to read through the script and make a map of what the character is like. What motivates him; what makes him so…complex, as you called it. I pretend to be like the character. How do I make myself think like him? That’s the question I like to try to find an answer to.”

“Ah, this is simply my personal opinion, but to truly play the character requires some true life experience…Is it possible that you’ve ever done anything similar to what the character has done in real life?”

A pin seemed to drop in that very moment from the silence that crowded the room. Everyone in the room froze and stared at you, their glances less than pleasant. You bore it all as you stared intently into his eyes. Slip up, you prayed, do something that will make you slip up. There was not even a brief soft sound in the 10 seconds that it took for Taehyung to respond.

He was rigid, the smile plastered on his face barely fading. Come on, you begged, expose yourself just a bit.

“Your response is lagging for just a bit, Kim Taehyung-ssi. It makes you seem guilty just a bit, doesn’t it?’’

He snapped out of it right then and there.

“I was simply contemplating my response. Your impatience is something not so befitting of a formal interview. To answer your question, isn’t a role just a role at the end of the day? If you think about it, I’m not the only person to have played a role like this. Many actors and actresses have done so without any thought of relating it to their real life. After all, a role is simply an imaginary self.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes, and you felt the gazes of other people around you burn into you.

You settled on a retreat. It was fine; this interview was just the first building block. You laughed lightly, throwing off the previous tense silence easily.

“Of course! We wouldn’t expect nothing but, right? We hope to see your talent truly shine through in this new role!’’

The tenseness in the room seemed to slip away right then, and the deathly gazes on you flitted away, like they were never there in the first place.

You let out a sigh as you left the interview room. God, that was terrifying, but you knew that you had to do what you had just previously done. What you had just done asserted the theory that you had. His company was hiding something about him, and that something was nothing less than downright horrific.

JK, you thought to yourself, I’m going to expose this story, just you wait.

“You weren’t just going to leave, huh?’’

You heard a familiar voice speak behind you, and you quickly spun around.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you forced out of your throat,’’ I believed you had already left.”

“I was going to, but I wanted to speak to you about the interview. The company rarely lets me do interviews, so it was really refreshing to have one done with you. We worked so well together, and I would like to thank you for the pleasant experience you had given me with dinner. You must be starving, right?’’

You had been starving earlier, but one word from Taehyung left your stomach churning in nausea.

“No!’’ your voice was a bit too loud, so you hastily softened it,’’ No, that’s not necessary. You don’t need to thank me.”

Taehyung took steps closer to you, and you unconsciously took a step back. Noticing your movements, he looked at you and flashed a grin that might’ve looked harmless to others but outright menacing to you.

“Are you scared of me?’’ his voice was almost like a purr. You fought back a shiver, straightening your back and looking him straight in the eyes.

“No,’’ you stabilized your voice, keeping a waver out of it,” Why would I be scared of you? You’re not some higher being than me just because you’re a celebrity. You’re human, after all. But, as you can see, I have work to do, so I will have to politely decline your offer.”

“You can have the rest of the day off.”

You spun around on your heels, your gaze colliding with Boss Kim’s. When did he arrive?

“Sir! Boss! No, if I skipped out on work, I’d be a burden to everyone. Besides, I—,’’ your voice was cut off by another voice.

“It’d be good to establish a positive relationship between your company and ours. Your boss would usually be the one to go to a dinner, but I believe he already has plans. Any work you were unable to fulfill today will be taken care of.”

The voice seemed to chill you to the bone. You turned to make eyes with a man. Was he…Taehyung’s manager? Although he was handsome, the kind of handsome that was comparable with Taehyung’s, something about him churned your stomach. While Taehyung was like a predator waiting to pounce on his prey, the man behind this voice was already sinking his teeth into the neck, wringing out the… You snapped out of your thoughts.

Snap out of it, you mentally scolded yourself.

“How about it?’’ Taehyung’s manager coldly smiled, his tone like glaciers.

You opened your mouth to try to refute, but with the burning gaze from your boss, you could only dip your head in a bow, your voice low.

“Thank you for the offer. I accept.”

They couldn’t kill you, right? It’d be too obvious.

You followed them out, and when you passed by Boss Kim, you made a panicked glance at him. What greeted you made you halt briefly in your pace.

When Boss Kim made eye contact with you, he patted your shoulder in what should’ve been reassurance. His lips spread out in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t disappoint me, hmm?’’

His words, spoken low and steady, left a chill in your veins as you kept walking, and the sliding doors of the elevator dinged close behind you, effectively trapping you with Taehyung and his manager.

You somehow made it out of the elevator and through the tense car ride alive. Now, you were seated next to Taehyung himself in the private room of a restaurant. Smoke rose from the grill, briefly obscuring your view of his manager from across you.

You tried to think positively of the situation. If Taehyung was drunk, maybe he’d slip up, but…you made a furtive glance at his manager from across the grill, slightly jolting when your eyes collided with his own. The fear that nearly overcame you made you nauseous.

“A drink?”

Taehyung’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned to see him already raising his glass. You stiffly smiled, barely managing to keep the nervous twitch out of the curves of your lips.

“I don’t drink.”

“It’s impolite to decline a friendly offer. Come on, a toast to a wonderful…partnership.” Taehyung chuckled, raising his glass, as he leaned his chin onto the propped palm of his hand,” And we wouldn’t want a bad start to it.”

You were panicking by now, but you could imagine what Boss Kim would say if Taehyung’s company pulled out because of something so miniscule. You couldn’t afford to lose your job, not with the way you had fought tooth and nail to get your position; you wouldn’t last a month without your job or the meager protection it gave you.

You made your decision, a decision you would’ve done anything else but avoid, and tilted the glass up, clinking it against Taehyung’s glass. Turning away, you made it look like you were lightly sipping the drink, but you only allowed the liquid to slightly wet your lips. You set down the still-full glass and smiled pleasantly.

“I can only drink this much. Anymore, and I would experience terrible side effects.”

Taehyung didn’t seem even irked by your feeble attempt at pretending; instead, his eyes filled with amusement. He didn’t stop staring at you, and the threatening vibe of it caused you to unconsciously delve into your habit of gripping your glass of water and drinking it in an attempt to calm your nerves.

You placed the empty glass back down before resuming anxiously picking at your food. A pair of chopsticks—specifically Taehyung’s chopsticks—placed a piece of barbecued meat on your bowl of rice.

“Not feeling hungry? You need to eat. Skipping meals is bad for your health,’’ Taehyung beamed as he watched you carefully pick up the piece of meat and eat it. It would’ve been delicious any other time, but the churning in your gut made it taste like sand in your mouth. You dryly swallowed it.

“I’m heading to the restroom.”

You heard Taehyung’s manager speak in his flat tone, and you threw a skittish glance at him as he stood up and walked out of the private room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

“Ah, now that that nuisance is out of the way, why don’t we talk more?’’ Taehyung’s tone was playful, and you flinched as he leaned closer to you, his breath brushing against the outer shell of your ear.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you gritted the name through your teeth,” Please respect my personal space.”

He laughed lowly before he dropped a hand on your thigh. You were about to make a move to push him away, but your body suddenly felt tired, like you weren’t quite in control anymore.

“Come on, do what I say, and your little news company will do so much better. Your boss didn’t tell you this, but your company’s going bankrupt. One peep from me, and your company will rise in ranking, but I can only do that if I’m in a…happy mood.”

Taehyung pressed even closer to you, his nose against the curve of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply in. His hands moved from his side and he ripped open the buttons of your shirt, groping your bra-covered tits. You let out an incoherent mumble in response, trying to flimsily kick at him.

Where was the waiter? Why was his manager taking so long? They planned this!

Disgust and heat coiled in your gut, but you were too dizzy to move. Something…that bastard…Did he spike your water? You were too careless, fuck. Taehyung moved one hand to tilt your chin up before his lips met yours. Despite how sloppy of a kiss it was, you could tell he was experienced, practically tasting every inner crevice of your soft mouth with his tongue, and you should’ve continued to be revolted, but whatever pill in your system had you melting into his mouth.

Taehyung seemed to sense the turmoil and conflict in you and the soft give of your will, and that seemed to make him even braver. He slid a hand up your skirt, his touch hot even through the fabric of your stockings, and you let out a startled moan against his lips, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth. He pulled back, and you could barely see through the teary haze of your eyes. It had been too long since the last time you had a good fuck. You just wanted to be touched…wanted to be fucked so hard his cock would press against your womb.

“I just want to see you let go a bit, baby,’’ there was the triumph of domination in his voice. The sober part of you wanted to rebel, wanted to push and scream and kick him away, but you weren’t sober, weren’t clear-minded. Your legs spread as if begging for more of his touch.

He ripped his fingers through your stocking, and the material easily gave way underneath his strength. You could feel the damp spot on your panties, growing as he rubbed his fingertips against your drooling pussy. You shivered slightly in delirious pleasure as his finger rolled over your throbbing clit.

“Mmph!’’ you let out a sound as he pushed your soaked panties to the side and pushed his fingers deep into your pussy. You couldn’t object, not when your pussy was stretching with a spine-tingling ache around his fingers, and especially not when he begin to set a teasing pace. He pushed his fingers in, and you shut your eyes in shame as your moans grew louder.

Your toes curled as his movements grew faster, reaching deep into you, and you were so, so close. Oh my god you could feel…and you were cumming hard. Your walls shivered and twitched around his still moving fingers, and you murmured a dazed plea as he finally stilled and pulled his fingers out. You, still twitching from how hard you came earlier, were ashamed to see the way his fingers glistened with the remnants of your arousal and orgasm.

The sound of his pants being unclasped drew you out of your drugged state. No, he wasn’t going to…Come on, snap out of it, snap out of it.

He drew back closer again, and you sucked in a breath, trying to push through your daze. He leaned in. You managed to bring your arms up to the table, grabbing the nearest object that you could reach. Your trembling fingers closed around your nearly empty water glass, and you took it, raising it and smashing it as hard as you could over his head. Water, ice cubes, and glass shards struck as the glass broke. Taehyung, not expecting the blow, had a temporary moment of weakness, and you managed to push him off you.

You shoved yourself up onto shaky legs, wrapping the ripped blouse around your weakened body, and forced yourself into a run outside of the room. The hallway of the restaurant around the private rooms was empty, devoid of any person. You frantically looked over your shoulder, relieved that you didn’t see him coming after you. This was a public place, though it was late at night, and you knew Taehyung wouldn’t risk his perfect reputation. But still, you remembered his manager was still out there.

You couldn’t let them kill you…You had to survive! You broke into a blind run, ignoring the strange looks and the calls you got from the restaurant’s staff as you pushed out of the restaurant into the street. You kept running despite the dizziness of your mind, and you could barely see what was in front of you before…You crashed into someone, slamming into their body so hard that you were sent sprawling to the ground.

“Please…,’’ you choked out, your voice strangled, crying out a desperate plea as you grabbed onto their clothes,’’ Please help me.”

Your mind was dizzy, splotches of colors splattering your blurry vision. Your body had overexerted yourself, and you prayed that you wouldn’t end up a dead body on the news as your grip around the clothes went lip, and you collapsed into the road. Through the buzzing of your ears, you could hear a startled voice call out, feel a firm touch grab your shoulders and try to shake you awake. Some strange hope rose in you; maybe…maybe…?

You murmured desperately one last mumble, your words barely making sense, as you spiraled into unconsciousness.

“JK…please help me.”

A/N: if you want to be added to the taglist for the next part, reply with a ❤️. If you enjoyed the story, please leave a comment or a detailed review below <3

Next work will be a fic for Jungkook’s upcoming birthday. Poll will be released soon for what kind of plot it should have!

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killing-all-joy · 4 years ago

Text

Sometimes Having Terrible Aim Is Worth It

Pairing: Analogince Word count: 4,492 Logan uses he/they pronouns cw: swearing, snowball fights, mentions of murder, implied bad parents, i might have made lore for this at 1am while bored whoops

Overall, Roman and Logan were happy with their neighborhood. The location was convenient for both of their works (the theatre and the high school) and the environment was very lax. It was a low-crime, middle-class neighborhood with people who seemed very nice.

Roman, the sociable one, had made friends with many of the people on their block, only leaving a couple of houses alone. He had told Logan that all the people he had talked with were amiable people worthy of their friendship. So, Logan had accompanied his boyfriend during conversations with their neighbors on occasion, despite being an introvert with a general disappointment in the human race.

It wasn’t with ease that Roman was able to leave the house on their right alone. He had been warned not to bother the man who lived there as soon as he had moved in and started to make friends with his new neighbors. A blonde woman who Roman guessed to be about twenty years older than him had knocked on the door the evening after the two had moved in and given them the gist of the neighborhood. Her name was Janet, and she had told them about which houses had kids (as well as which kids were the best or quietest), how many people lived at each house, what each resident was like, and finally, about the man who lived next door.

Apparently, he was introverted and creepy, didn’t have friends, had the scariest Halloween decorations, worked at an age-old psychiatric hospital, and was rude and disagreeable. Janet had sufficiently discouraged Roman and Logan from interacting with him, but even if she hadn’t, the reports from their other neighbors would have done the job.

One kid said she had knocked on his door on Halloween, and he had opened the door and snarled at her with a realistic vampire outfit on, laughing evilly as she ran away. One mother said she had gone to his house to ask for a cup of sugar, and he had given her a cup of salt instead. Three kids all said they had seen him near the haunted house on Fridays. There was a rumor going around that he had killed the previous owners of the house Roman and Logan now resided in because their cat had made a small scratch on his car (Logan and Roman were less inclined to believe that last rumor; it was evidence-less, unlike the others).

But, other than the next-door neighbor they were both terrified of, Roman and Logan liked their living situation very much.

It was January, right in the middle of winter. The weather refused to let their area forget this fact; the week had started out with a snowstorm and after one day of pause, it had snowed every day for the next four days. It was now Friday, the fourth consecutive day of having snow, and the neighborhood kids had calmed about the state of the weather. Earlier in the week, Roman and Logan would often look out their window to find kids playing in the snow. Now, the excitement had dialed down and the kids were exhausted. The couple figured that sometime in the middle of the next week, the kids would be back to causing snowy chaos, but there was still almost a week until that hypothesis would be put to the test. At the current time, the block was quiet.

Roman appeared next to Logan, who was reading. He perched himself on the armrest of Logan's armchair and put an arm around his boyfriend.

"Hey, Logan?" Roman asked, taking a lock of Logan's hair and twirling it between his fingers.

"What is it you want, darling?" Logan replied, not looking up from his book.

Roman frowned. "I never said I wanted something."

"You called me Logan," he explained like it were obvious, "so, you want something."

Roman rolled his eyes, wishing his boyfriend wasn't so observant. "I want to have a snowball fight outside."

Logan raised an eyebrow, keeping his eyes on the novel in his hands. "I assume that you want me to join?"

Roman nodded. "Who else would I fight?"

"I also imagine you will annoy me about this subject until I acquiesce, or the snow melts?"

Roman nodded again.

"What's in it for me?"

Roman furrowed his eyebrows in thought. "Well...maybe, after the fight, we can curl up next to each other on the couch in our blankets, hot chocolate in hand, and we can watch Doctor Who or whatever while we snuggle."

Logan bit his lip.

"You know you want to."

Logan rolled their eyes. "I most certainly do not."

Roman grinned at him cheekily. "Bullshit," he said sweetly, "now come with me."

He took the book from Logan's hands and set it on the table. He grabbed a receipt from nearby and put it on the open pages, before slamming the novel shut and pulling his boyfriend to his feet.

Logan made a noise of surprise as he was dragged to the door by his boyfriend.

"Roman, wait!" Logan exclaimed, putting a hand on Roman's arm. "Let me get my gloves and hat on first."

Logan, who was already in a blue patterned sweater and dark purple scarf, dashed to his and Roman's room. He opened his closet and picked out his navy blue beanie and red gloves. He put them on quickly, not wanting to have to deal with Roman's manhandling once again.

He raced back to Roman who was waiting for him at the door impatiently. When he saw Logan, his expression brightened to one of adoration.

"Oh my gosh, mi querido, you look adorable!"

Logan huffed. "I am not adorable."

Roman laughed. "Yes, you are."

Logan knew that arguing was hopeless.

They took the accusation to heart for a moment. "What if the neighbors see our fight and it ruins my reputation and they never take me seriously again?"

"One, they will be too far away from us to recognize you. Two, they won't care. Three, I'm going to be annoying you for the next two months about a snowball fight so if you refuse, they'll judge you for choosing someone as loud and annoying as myself as your boyfriend."

Logan nodded. "Fair enough."

The two exited their house. Logan put his arms around his torso and shivered, the sudden change in temperature shocking his body, but Roman ran ahead. He immediately crouched down to the ground and formed a snowball, aiming directly for Logan’s stomach, and missing by a couple of feet. Logan gave him a disappointed look.

Roman huffed and returned to building a snowball. Logan shivered again, watching the small flecks of white flutter down from the clouds above and land on their suburban neighborhood. Logan was removed from their thoughts when a snowball collided with his stomach.

He stumbled back half a step, but steadied his stance and glared at his boyfriend. Another snowball was thrown his way, but Logan dodged and watched it disperse against the door.

“You might want to join me in the yard, Specs, if you don’t want me to break a window.”

Logan followed his suggestion, running to the front yard and immediately forming a snowball. They threw it at their unsuspecting boyfriend who was in the process of making another snowball. It hit him square in the chest, making him fall backwards.

“Oh, you’re in for it, mi luz.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You’ve hit me twice, I’ve hit you once. I’m hardly the-”

A snowball to the lungs effectively shut them up.

---

Roman and Logan were hiding behind their respective walls of snow. Throughout the fight, they had been creating their own walls to hide behind to avoid getting hit. The fight would continue until either surrender or unconsciousness occurred, and both knew the former would be the hardest to achieve.

Since the two were both overachievers and never half-assed anything, their respective snow walls were two and a half feet high, roughly four inches in thickness, and approximately two feet wide. Roman had drawn an ‘R’ into his for dramatic effect, and Logan had hit the ‘R’ purposely with a snowball twice.

Neither knew how much time had passed, nor could they sense just how cold they were. All they could think about was demolishing their beloved in a violent war of snow, where only one could be crowned victor.

They were so unfocused that they didn’t notice a door opening and closing. Their eyes were so zeroed in on each other that Logan couldn’t see anything but his weapon and his target.

Logan knew the second the snowball left his hands that he would not land the shot. They were off by at least a couple of feet. They paid it no mind, however, and focused on evading Roman’s next attack.

The snowball landed with an audible smack.

That was unusual; dodged snowballs normally landed soundlessly on the ground.

What was also unusual was the yelp accompanying the sound.

Two shocked heads turned and watched as an unfamiliar man was thrown off his balance from Logan’s ruthlessly packed snowball. He didn’t fall to the ground, no, he was too scary and intimidating for that kind of humiliation to ever befall him. But, he was inconvenienced just enough so that Roman and Logan were terrified for their lives.

Logan hadn’t hit any old neighbor that lived on their block. He had hit the man who lived to their right.

The man who was evil, scary, probably a serial killer; the person that even the adults were scared of. He overdid Halloween, had no friends, and worked at a psychiatric hospital. He could probably kill them if he wanted to. According to the rumors, he had killed for lesser motives.

His eyes locked with both of the men at once, and Logan and Roman had never been more scared in their time together. He was terrifying.

With a black shirt, black jeans, black and purple hair, and a black hoodie, the man next door with tattoos creeping up his neck and black eyeshadow under his eyes looked very much the part the rest of the street had cast him as.

Logan and Roman were truly and undeniably fucked.

When the neighbor stopped glaring at them and walked to his car, Logan and Roman simultaneously craned their necks back to face each other, a terrified look in both of their eyes. Suddenly, all their competitive fire was extinguished and they looked at the snow on the ground with fear and regret instead of devious fun.

Their neighbor got something from his car and returned inside, casting sideways glances at Roman and Logan as he passed them. He slammed his door shut, causing both men to flinch.

From day one, the couple had been warned by kindergarteners and middle-aged women alike that they were unfortunate to be neighbors with the man next door. It was today that this was proven. All they could do was wait for their demise.

Roman threw a snowball at Logan’s face in anger at his actions and bad aim. For the first time in this fight, he wished he had been hit by that snowball.

There was a four minute period where the two were internally debating their options of either going back inside or apologizing to their fearsome neighbor. Occasionally, they would make eye contact with each other, but no words were actually spoken. Roman, the extrovert, considered knocking on his door to make a quick and hasty apology while Logan, the introvert, thought about writing an apology letter and sliding it under his door.

Neither of their ideas needed to be put to action, however, since the neighbor exited his house once again.

The two resisted the overwhelming urge to cower in fear. They had never seen him before, and now they had seen him twice in less than ten minutes? Clearly, they had ticked him off.

In an effort to not make it look as though they were staring, Logan and Roman stuck their gazes on each other. Each could tell that their partner was resisting their instincts telling them to run as far away as they could as fast as possible. But they couldn’t be rude—not when that man lived right next to them and could approach their house at any time. The serial killer rumors suddenly seemed more plausible.

What greeted them (or rather, Logan) instead, was a snowball to the back.

Logan, who was tenser than a taut rope, stumbled from the harsh impact. When he was able to regain his stance, his head whipped around to look at his attacker.

The neighbor had on, of all things, a smile.

He had discarded his hoodie for a fluffy black sweater with purple bats on it. He was now in a black beanie and had on midnight blue gloves. While his winter attire was surprising considering he already had a hoodie and didn’t seem to leave his house much, the mischievous smile was the most perplexing of all new things about their neighbor. Neither Logan nor Roman could make sense of it, except that it let them see the infamously creepy stranger in a new light.

Logan huffed out a bemused laugh, staring at the neighbor (who looked to be similar in age to them) like he was a gripping plot twist in a novel that unexpectedly ended happily. He shook his head a bit, but crouched down and formed another snowball. He made sure not to throw it as hard as the first one he had thrown at the stranger.

The man dodged it with ease, running closer to the snow-covered couple’s house. He swiped some snow off the porch rail and quickly packed it before throwing it at Roman, who was too busy being bewildered to do anything to dodge. He gasped in offense and coughed when the snowball collided with his sternum, and directed a playful glare at his attacker. He threw a snowball at him in return.

The neighbor easily dodged that one, but wasn’t able to dodge the snowball Logan had thrown his way. His attention switched over to the bespectacled assailant, looking at them just in time to see him throw another snowball at his boyfriend.

“How the hell did you make a snowball that quickly, cariño?”

“I have a snow wall, Ro. What do you think I put behind it? Action figures?” Logan retorted sarcastically.

Roman rolled his eyes and formed another snowball, sending it through the air and smack into Logan’s wall. “Every man for himself!”

The neighbor laughed at that, and the snowball fight continued.

---

As it turned out, Logan and Roman were at a disadvantage from already being out in the snow before their neighbor joined in. He was able to make them both surrender eventually, but not before Roman had aimed a snowball at a precise place on the back of his neck where the snow fell down the back of his shirt.

Logan was the wiser out of the couple and had surrendered first (not without a fight, though). He figured he deserved it; he had been the one to disturb the stranger, after all. This made him able to watch as both Roman and the stranger started to shiver more and more as the fight had continued.

When Roman finally did surrender, Logan laughed in his face and then put an arm around him. Logan took one hand in his and was able to tell his fingers were numb.

“You just never know when to quit, do you?” they sighed fondly.

“I did eventually!” protested Roman indignantly.

The stranger chuckled from beside him. “Would’ve been easier for your poor body if you’d surrendered when you knew you were gonna lose.”

It was the first time they’d heard him speak; snowball fights weren’t exactly the best place to start a conversation. His voice was low, about as deep as expected from a scary man in all black. However, it didn’t hold any fearful qualities or scratchiness like the kids had described. The couple thought it sounded like coffee on a cool winter’s morning (which didn’t make sense since coffee wasn’t a sound, but it was all that they could use to describe it, nonetheless).

“And when would that have been?”

“The second I joined in.”

Logan hid a laugh behind their hand. Roman glared at him for encouraging their neighbor.

“No idiot surrenders the second another person joins,” Roman muttered.

“Exactly,” the man said with a wink. Logan was able to spot him curling his arms around himself, probably from being cold.

Roman gasped loudly when he finally realized what the stranger was saying. “How dare you!”

He stumbled out of Logan’s arms and collected more snow off the porch railing, making it into a large, messy ball and chucking it at the stranger.

It hit his face. Not hard in any shape or form; no harm would be done, but it was still a bunch of cold water shoved in his face and falling into the front of his sweater.

The stranger furiously batted at the snow on his face.

“Serves you right,” Roman mumbled.

Logan rolled his eyes. “Sorry, that must’ve been freezing.”

The man nodded.

“Come on in,” Logan invited, opening the door. “We can make you some hot chocolate.”

Roman rushed inside, running to the storage closet that had extra blankets.

“A-are you s-su-re?” the stranger said, syllables separate and repetitive from his shivering. The snow in his face caused his teeth to chatter.

“Of course,” Logan said, “it’s our—well, mostly my fault, that you got cold anyway. I’m Logan. He/they pronouns.”

Virgil chuckled. “L-log-an, h-uh? Was st-st-starting to thi-nk y-you were j-just gi-v-ven a b-bunch of p-pet names at b-birth.”

Logan blushed furiously, but laughed. Roman referred to him with Spanish terms of endearment more than he did his legal name.

“At this point, I might as well have been. I tend to respond to any unfamiliar word that vaguely sounds like Spanish now.”

They ushered the freezing stranger inside. Roman had returned from the storage closet with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and another under his arm. Logan took the blanket that wasn’t shrouding his shivering boyfriend and wrapped it around the stranger’s shoulders, who tugged it tighter around himself eagerly.

Logan went to the kitchen, putting three mugs of milk into the microwave and setting it for two minutes. They then returned to Roman and their neighbor who were shivering in silence.

“Thanks for joining us,” Roman said, “that was fun.”

“It was,” he agreed, shivering starting to calm down. “T-thank you for letting me p-participate.” Not fully, however.

“Of course,” said Logan, putting an arm on Roman’s shoulders. “I totally meant that snowball as an invitation. Fully intentional.”

The other two laughed, knowing that was a lie. The microwave beeped, and Logan left them to take the mugs from the microwave. He put the hot cocoa powder in and stirred the mugs, before picking them up.

He entered the living room to see that Roman had sat on the left of the couch and the stranger in the middle. Logan put their mugs in front of them and put down a mug for themself. He sat down next to the stranger.

“Might I ask your name, oh Master of the Snowball?” Roman asked.

The stranger snorted. “That’s much better than my name. My name’s Virgil. He/him.”

Logan smiled to himself. “Not at all, that’s a very nice name.”

Virgil choked on the hot chocolate he was sipping. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Fits your aesthetic,” Roman remarked.

Virgil opened his mouth, looking offended. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

It was obviously a joke, but Logan and Roman knew they had to tell Virgil of the rumors and his reputation. Especially now that they saw him as a good guy.

“Halloween,” Roman started to list, “everyday-is-spooky-season aesthetic, seems like the type of guy to work at a haunted house.”

Virgil scoffed. “Those places are stupid; not scary at all. If you want to go to a haunted house, make your house the haunted house.”

Well, now they had the Virgil-goes-to-a-haunted-house-weekly theory debunked.

“You do have ghosts on your sweater,” Logan supplied, taking a sip of the hot chocolate.

“They’re cute ghosts, though,” Roman said as soon as Virgil opened his mouth to argue. He pointed at one on his sweater. “See? Look at the lil’ faces.”

“My sister got it for me for Christmas.”

“If I knew your sister, that would probably explain the cute faces.”

“Oh, believe me, it would.”

Logan chuckled as he watched the two exchange conversation. He took another sip of his hot chocolate.

“So, um, I heard moving trucks outside your house about a month ago. Was that y’all? You new here?” asked Virgil.

“Affirmative,” Logan confirmed.

“Yeah, it’s our very first house together!” Roman said happily.

Virgil smiled. “That’s sickeningly adorable.”

“I am sickeningly adorable,” Roman said like it was a badge of honor.

“I agree,” Logan said.

A comfortable silence befell the group.

Virgil fidgeted, looking at Roman nervously. “Bit awkward question this far into the conversation, but I never caught your name-”

“Roman~” sang the man in question. He would have held the note out for an impressively long time if he didn’t take a sip of hot cocoa.

“Cool,” said Virgil awkwardly. “And I suppose, Roman and Logan, oh wow y’all’s names rhyme that is so romantic, anyway-”

Roman gasped, covering his mouth. His eyes lit up. “They do!”

“Are you just noticing this, Roman?” asked Logan.

“Of course!” Roman exclaimed in reply. “If I knew our names rhymed, I would have already written many a rhyming poem about our love.”

“That’s very nice, Love.”

“Don’t be snippy, mi cielo, you know you’d love it,” Roman huffed. “Virgil, don’t you think he’d love it?”

Virgil just rolled his eyes fondly, not wanting to get caught up in the middle of a lover’s spat.

“Don’t bring Virgil into this, Roman. You should put the subject aside, considering he was in the middle of saying something before you interrupted.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask. Did our neighbors happen to...um...tell you what they thought of me? Ruin first impressions? It would explain your terrified expressions when we first saw each other.”

Roman and Logan looked at each other worriedly.

“...Maybe?” Roman asked quietly.

“There’s a small possibility...” Logan whispered.

“Y’all, I’m not mad if it happened, I just wanna know.”

Logan sighed. “Yes, yes they did.”

“What’d they say?”

“Multiple people said different things,” Logan began. “Janet talked to us first. She’s the blonde, short-haired, blue-eyed-”

“-Used to be a soccer mom, baby blue house?” Virgil asked. Logan nodded. “Met her when I first moved in, and once after that.”

“Her, yes. She told us, quite frankly, to not come near you.”

Virgil started to close in on himself. “Like how?”

“Said you were creepy, rude, introverted, no friends, freaky-as-all-hell Halloween decorations, apparently knew where you worked,” Roman told him, then noticed Virgil’s shrinking and stopped with the accusations. “I doubt almost all of that now, since you’re obviously not creepy and definitely have friends with that personality, but she may have been accurate with Halloween decor.”

“She was,” Virgil confirmed. “Go big or go home.”

“I believe you are normally home during Halloween, are you not?” asked Logan, confused.

Roman laughed. “Of course, mi amor.”

“Where do I work, in Janet terms?” asked Virgil, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Some old psychiatric hospital out of town.”

Virgil doubled over in laughter. He put his mug on the coffee table so it wouldn’t spill and held his head in his hands.

When he regained himself, still giggling, he replied.

“That’s inaccurate,” Virgil said plainly. “I don’t have a degree for that. See, there’s an old abandoned psychiatric hospital two miles away from the airport that is on the same road as the airport. It’s out of use, so that’s a stupid assumption to make. I guess I could maybe see why she made it though; I work at the airport.”

“Oh?” asked Logan, intrigued.

“Yeah, I’m an air traffic controller,” said Virgil with a shrug. “It ain’t that interesting. I recently got fully certified, though, which is cool. It pays well, I’m good at paying constant attention to things that could potentially end badly, and the high-stress comes from having to give my unwavering and full attention, which is something I can do well.”

“Less stressful than home and college, I guess, huh?” Roman guessed.

“Exactly, it's a spa compared to my parents,” Virgil said with a laugh. “But yeah, that’s hysterical. I definitely do not work at a psychiatric hospital.”

“I suppose what the kids said is untrue if what the adults said is false,” Logan mused.

“Oh dear lord, what did they say,” Virgil groaned.

“One girl told us about the rumor that you killed the people who used to live here,” Roman said, and Virgil immediately laughed. “Her mother said she asked for a cup of sugar and you gave her a cup of salt instead.”

“I hadn’t slept in five days and realized my mistake two hours later,” Virgil explained immediately. “I remember that one.”

Logan snorted. “One boy said you go to the haunted house on Fridays, which is obviously untrue.”

“Yeah. One, they’re stupid, two, that one’s only open in October and November, three, that one ain’t even scary. It has a good and free parking lot, though, and I volunteer at an at-risk youth center every Friday a couple blocks down that has really shitty parking.”

Roman shook his head. “Wow, we really got you wrong.”

“You were misled,” Virgil corrected. “It’s not your fault.”

“You know what, you’re right!” Roman agreed. “We were robbed.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Of what?”

“Of friendship,” Logan said, taking a sip from his drink. “Roman would have been banging on your door two days after moving, wanting to get to know you. But, after a momentous amount of ‘rude’ and ‘disagreeable’—” Virgil frowned, “—he was persuaded not to. Our loss, especially considering you are neither of those two adjectives.”

Virgil smiled. “Thank you.”

Logan looked into Virgil’s chestnut brown eyes, and was able to spot the specks of gray in them. They gave Virgil a warm smile. “For what? It is our pleasure to be given the chance to know you.”

Roman groaned. “I try 24/7 to be dramatic and you do it without trying.”

Virgil, blushing, giggled. “You’re both good at it.”

Roman beamed at him. “I’m thrilled you think so, Nico di Angel-o.”

“Nico’s surname can be interpreted to mean ‘of the angels’ already, Roman, I don’t think you need to emphas-”

“Shhhh, Specs, let me shower our guest with compliments.”

Virgil’s face was on fire. “Do y’all have any movies?”

Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @justanotherhumanstuff @fander-fic-recs @neo-neo-neo

I wrote most of that when I went into a blur for three hours and looked at the time after I finished the draft to see that I had wasted all the time I had to do homework. It was worth it. I don’t know why but I’m really attached to this AU? If you want to see more of it please tell me. I hope you liked it!

#analogince #logince #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #roast me if there's a typo #ts fanfic #analogical #prinxiety #fic #swearing tw #kill writes

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austajunk · 3 years ago

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Game of Despair (fic)

Chapter One: Despair Gamer

Summary: Surviving through her massive injuries following the ending of the Despair Arc, Chiaki Nanami has fallen after her fellow classmates have become Remnants of Despair. However, when altercations with a certain Servant brings up the chance to find a special person that she lost once again, Chiaki and the aforementioned problematic Servant have no choice but to traverse the apocalypse to bring Izuru Kamukura back to the light of Hope…maybe!

Rating: Mature (because duh)

Warnings: Gore, death, general manipulation and Remnants of Despair Shenanigans

A/N: Hey there. Originally this was a fan comic on tumblr that I did, but due to the scale of the project, I decided it would work better as a fic. The introduction to this fic is different from the fan comic just so I could keep things fresh to write. Please enjoy! You can also find this fic on AO3 if you prefer to read there. I’ll link later.

Games were supposed to be fun. Anyone could play them and they could be played together. It didn’t matter if it was a bad game or if the person you were playing with had any talent whatsoever. It wasn’t the point. The point was to get closer to another person.

At least, that was the philosophy Chiaki Nanami once went by. Games were something that made her happy, but another thing that chained her down at the same time. By being the Super High School Level Gamer, she was locked to her beloved talent and didn’t see any way to open herself to others. That was until she met Hajime Hinata and her teacher, Chisa Yukizome, had showed the strawberry-haired gamer that it was possible to form all the connections she wanted in her life through her talent. For the first time in her life, she had started to feel complete at Hope’s Peak Academy. She was the Class Representative of a band of Ultimate students who were anything but normal... but she loved them with all her heart.

Until the claws of Despair ripped everything away from her, that was. Chiaki Nanami was now a shell of her former self, but that was okay. With her mind filled with nothing but an urge to induce chaos, she couldn’t feel anything for the person she once was. If she couldn’t remember that person, what were they really worth?

—

The fiery skies poured overhead and mixed with the blackness of the night. There was no possible way to see the stars anymore at this point so deep into the end of the world. The only light that could be seen was from a small Nantendo game screen flickering. A girl with pink hair and discolored pink and red eyes leaned against some wreckage, watching as several people ran from demolished buildings and screamed in anguish for their loved ones. Children, women, and even grown men sobbed as a waterfall of bullets cascaded down on their bodies from above.

“You’re losing, you know?” The gamer sighed, twirling a small finger around some of her peach-tinted hair.

On her game screen, a hoard of bullets were raining down on a mass of zombies, massacring them on her side of the screen. The zombie side was fading pitifully fast, their organs squishing from the onslaught of shots.

Beside Chiaki, a man was trembling with the Nantendo in his hand. Sweat was pouring down the front of his head and his breathing was heavy. It looked as though the pale-faced man was going to pass out at any moment. His eyes were blood shot. He had been at this for hours, all to keep the game going and going and going... but it felt like one big, mad, never-ending spiral. He just wanted to drop the game, but all his hostages and prizes were dying all around him the moment he showed any weakness. A large black collar around his neck was tightening every time a point fell from his score. His throat was so constricted that his lips were starting to get purple.

Oh well, Chiaki thought. She was starting to get bored of this anyways. It was really sad though. For a few sweet moments, she had felt an exhilaration like no other. Her entire body had tensed, heat caking her cheeks. She wanted to drop the game and throw herself at the poor man beside her, to rub her curvaceous body against him until she got off on human contact alone when his score had gotten ahead. But alas, that sort of contact had started to wane on his score... and Chiaki’s interests.

“This is disappointing,” said Chiaki, obliterating the rest of the man’s score. Her side of the screen flashed WINNER in big bright red letters and the man beside her squealed in terror. He started convulsing and screaming, the air in his lungs dissipating fast until he seized over and fell over. His eyes bulged from his skull and his neck was bruised and purple until a satisfying crack sounded from his neck. Well... as satisfying as Chiaki could imagine it anyways.

Watching the man’s corpse go limp, she dropped her handheld game console beside him and simply fished another one from her black and white bear-shaped bag. She tapped the screen to life and began to jab at the buttons as though she wasn’t lying beside someone's corpse on top of a bunch of debris underneath a smoke-encrusted sky of darkness. But that was just the world.

Shrieks and screams of agony littered the sky, joining together to create a chaos-induced despair. It was probably the biggest death count Chiaki had earned so far. Her victim, to his credit, had lasted a total of thirteen hours before his score declined and Chiaki’s interest dropped. It was pleasurable until he waned. Now Chiaki was content to just let the cries in the night be silenced as the conclusion of their game (with real human casualties) and to just get up and leave. She did so, leaving her purple game console with the man’s corpse as memento and something of her personal signature. All the world would know where to find the person who could bring the greatest challenge of a killing game to them and that was what she wanted.

The gamer longed to find someone who could beat her and make her feel alive again. Or to feel anything at all. Even if Chiaki knew that she was nowhere close to feeling anything anymore. “My purpose... is Despair,” she uttered to no one in particular, merely touching her forehead as though to remind herself of that fact. It was foolish to stray, foolish to want or desire anything in such a world. Something like that almost seemed like a spec of Hope was left in her heart... which was impossible once the legendary Junko Enoshima snuffed it out.

Thanks to Junko, all the games in the world would not suffice to bring Chiaki Nanami back. One by one, she had been forced to watch her classmates fall into Despair, to watch them torture, massacre and rape others in Junko’s image. Chained to a wall, she watched for over a year as blood sprayed across a dingy massive screen that Junko had left her to view the carnage. She had been tormented and stuck in Hope’s Peak Academy until the last inch of Hope was executed from her body, until she finally wavered and gave into Despair. With the last specs of good will drained from her, the chains around her neck slipped off and she was allowed to walk free in this ruined world... where it felt entirely purposeless to live. But that was the point.

Everything was ruined. Her life was only good for making everyone else experience her own personal Despair. And Chiaki had set to it.

And as far as she was concerned, games were meant to be shared with everyone. Even the bad ones…

—

On the eastern side of a Towa city, a dingy and caved-in subway had been remodeled into a small chamber for the Despair Gamer. She always returned there to rest or to just recollect herself whenever she was bored or wanted to avoid the other Despairs. A bunch of pillows were tucked together for a makeshift gaming chair that she was slumped over, absorbed in one of her prized Nantendo titles.

Only the soft clinking of chains from behind roused her attention ever so slightly.

“Ah… that guy from before didn’t keep you occupied for long, did he?” Said a carefree voice behind Chiaki as she played. “For a moment, it looked like he was really doing it for you.”

Chiaki tilted her head, sinking back into her cushioned gaming chair. It wasn’t hard to figure out who the other presence in this fortress of death was, so she didn’t bother to look at him as he went to work on disposing of the body. What she didn’t notice however was that her Servant wasn’t empty-handed. He had entered the chamber with a large burlap sack… one that was squirming eerily.

Nagito Komaeda. To say he gave into Despair wasn’t quite so accurate. Hope would always win in the end… but it had to be challenged, cultivated… yes, becoming Despair was only meant to encourage Hope. And that was why he belonged to the other Remnants of Despair. He was theirs to use as they saw fit, but he just could not help returning to her again and again. Chiaki Nanami was like a serial killer by now… one complete with a soft, pudgy face and wide, innocent eyes. Utterly fascinating that one so lovely and gentle could rip apart so many people. Despair really had power over others… an alluring, undeniable, sick and twisted power… all Servant wanted to do was be there to witness Hope shatter the monster before him that Despair had created.

But until that happened… oh, how thoughts of Junko Enoshima made the heat swell through every inch of his body…

As if craving her attention, Servant spoke to her again. She could practically feel the grin etched on his face. “Have you gotten so used to the stench of death, Chiaki? You’re actually letting the corpses decompose around you now…” He nodded his head to rotting cadavers left at the back of the room. Perhaps Chiaki had forgotten they were there?

Chiaki’s lips twitched into a small frown, more so from being interrupted. Servant was a strange one. He had something familiar about him, like someone she should remember but it simply did not occur to her to try and do so. If he caused no reaction in her, then that was all there was to it whether she recalled him or not. The pale-haired boy seemed to follow her about like a puppy-dog, sometimes aiding her in procuring or disposing of victims whenever they met up. Chiaki had considered simply killing him, but something in her intuition told her that playing a Killing Game with the likes of him simply wasn’t a wise choice. And straight up slaughtering him was too kind, too merciful. How was she to invoke Despair in the name of Junko Enoshima if she simply hacked up his body?

And so, Chiaki found herself lifting her head at the jostling of chains behind her, watching the metal links swing side to side from around the Servant’s neck. He had a large grin painted on his face as he always did, taking a seat across from her in her little chair. “I guess the smell of death caught me off guard last time,” she mused thoughtfully to him, uncaring if he was really here for conversation or not. He did as he pleased and proved to be quite the clingy individual. But so long as he did the dirty work, Chiaki didn’t mind occasionally indulging him.

“It made me sick... but... now I don’t smell anything. I wonder if I’ve destroyed my sense of smell. Or my brain simply cares less and less each time...” Chiaki said with sigh, curling up in her chair and reaching for her games again. “Why did you come back?” It was really annoying when Chiaki was content to be left alone with her games for the rest of eternity. Alas victims were hard to come by in the apocalypse. Something about people wanting to salvage their lives. She couldn’t understand that. People were going to be slaughtered en masse either way, so shouldn’t they be trying to find the best way to have fun?

That was what Ultimate Despair Gamer was for. To teach others that life was just one big game and if they weren’t having fun, well... their lives didn’t amount to much, did they?

Servant tilted his head at her, his green eyes holding her emotionless gaze for a moment. “Oh, yes! I actually brought you another gift. I don’t want to be too optimistic, but…” He gestured to the struggling brown sack beside him. “I think this may really be the one. If he can’t satisfy you a little more than your usual prey, then I’ll take full responsibility…”

“Hm?” Chiaki stood up and slowly drifted over to the squirming sack that the Servant had left in the middle of the room. A gift? For her? A light blush crept onto her cheeks as she approached the bag and knelt down to pull it back. As soon as she saw the victim awaiting her, a jolt of electric joy shot through her. She gasped lightly and watched as the person’s light chestnut hair spiked up into her view. This was... No... why was the sight of the person’s hair inspiring such a range of emotions on her face? Her eyes lit up and a shudder ran through her body. She wanted to pull the captive close to her already.

Lightly, she pulled the gag from his lips and let him cough and sputter. He wanted to scramble away from the bizarre Gamer, but she quickly grabbed ahold of his shoulders and urged him closer to her. Her breasts rested against his front and she nuzzled him almost affectionately. Startled by the cute girl’s sudden comforting presence, the man didn’t want to feel at ease, especially with her twisted smile flashing down upon him. But at the same time... she seemed harmless. Perhaps a little deranged? But soft and pretty enough... He shakily steadied her against him, wondering if she was the prisoner of this strange, messed up death chamber just like he was. He barely took notice of the boy behind her with the manic grin and kept his eyes trained on her.

“Wh-Where am I...?” The chestnut-haired student asked her. At least, he appeared to be a student with his plain white uniform and dark trousers. A pair of glasses rested askew on his nose. “Are you a prisoner too?! Did that guy kidnap you?”

Chiaki couldn’t help but to tense at the guy’s caring voice, the way he put concern for her before anything else. Even himself. It felt so familiar and she was melting on the inside. Her face became more twisted, more heated and aroused. This was the one! He had to be the one! He was going to play with her until she could finally lie down and let the cold grip of death eclipse her. A final game where she could be happy, fulfilled, complete—

“What’s your name?” Chiaki asked him lightly, trying to hide the frantic blush on her cheeks. This was so embarrassing. Her heart was fluttering for him.

“Ahhh? Oh... Um, Yusuke?” The man responded, looking around. “Look, why don’t we try to find a way out of here before that guy shows up again? That mastermind!”

“Hm?” Chiaki crossed her legs. “Oh... him. He doesn’t matter. What matters is... well... do you like games, Yusuke?” Her soft voice almost held a low purr to it.

Suddenly, there was a sense of unease in the air. Yusuke blinked and pushed up his glasses. “Um...games?”

—

A small tear trickled over the pale, dead face of her latest victim. After hours and hours and hours of gaming, Yusuke had simply crumpled over. All throughout the week, he had kept Chiaki occupied. Even when he sobbed to her and begged her to let him go, Chiaki was completely enthralled with him. Not a single one of her victims had been so satisfying. He must have truly adored her to keep up such a unique concentration to whatever game she picked out for them to play. He cared for her... he must have loved her to play with her all this time. But then... it was as though his body simply gave out.

Now Yusuke’s corpse decorated the floor of her room, his body still warm from how hard it had worked to bring her even an ounce of joy. Chiaki lingered beside him, her face twisted with what could truly be called Despair. It wasn’t fair. He loved her. Why did he break under all the gaming? She could go forever...

Servant watched her from the corner of the chambers, a small sigh leaving his lips. Something about her actions had slightly disturbed him. For close to a week, he had watched Chiaki become truly elated. It was like she was a different person. And now the young man he had offered up to her was nothing more than a body getting colder by the moment. She drained every last agonizing bit of life from him. It was so thoughtless, so empty…

“I wonder why you don’t just let them rest…” He said, stepping forward as if to pull Chiaki away from the body. “Oh well. I’ll find you a new toy. That will satisfy you!” What hollow words. There was nothing out there that could satisfy the monster before him. That was probably the most horrifying thing about her… but it made him utterly enthralled with her.

“...It’s never going to be enough...” Chiaki said solemnly as she heard the rustling of chains clinking in the background. She knew Servant was behind her, waiting for the body to be disposed of, but Chiaki didn’t want to let it go.

“This was the... the best one... and he wasn’t even enough. Nowhere close... He was like a barrel of love... and I need an ocean... I...I...” She trembled, stifling a sob. Even as a Remnant of Despair, it wasn’t like she lacked feelings... even if they were only centered on herself and self-preservation.

She sighed a hollow bitter sigh and stood up, giving Yusuke’s body a savage kick with her boots. After watching the dirt from her shoes smear his cheek, she turned around and walked past Servant.

“The person you’re searching for… he doesn’t exist anymore…”

Chiaki suddenly clutched her chest tightly as though she were in pain. There was an unbearable pounding in her head. Make it stop… it had to stop… why couldn’t she ignore it?

“I’m not staying here. I’m... I’m going to leave. I want to find something else...something I lost.” The words left her lips before she even realized it. She could almost envision that person with the same chestnut hair and soft, sincere smile. But she didn’t remember his name... not a bit…

Just as she headed to the entrance of the chamber that Servant was leaning against, a foot suddenly kicked up to block her exit. She stepped back and looked at Servant, a frown working onto her gentle features.

“Ah… I thought we may hit this little snag,” Servant said, his smile fading slightly. “You’ve lost a lot of things. It won’t help you to search for all of them! More than likely, you’ll never find anything!” He put his hands together, pleading. “Let me find you another toy! The next one will satisfy you for sure.”

“What..? I…” Chiaki blinked and rubbed her eyes. Those words were making her feel just a tad woozy.

“There, there,” Servant cooed, entwining his arm with hers to lead her away from the door. “Won’t you stay here with me, Chiaki? Just for today… don’t look for what you can’t find. Just stay here today.” Forever. He intended to keep her as long as he could. Hope had to be protected.

And the person she wanted… that same person lit up his entire world as well. The thoughts of that person…

“Chiaki, just stay here… ah, I know,” said Servant behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, “let’s play a game together. You and me. If you win—“

“Then I leave,” muttered Chiaki. Then she blinked again in realization.

The smell of this chamber was starting to get to her. Perhaps it was because the last toy truly was something she did like. She couldn’t stop playing with him until he broke. But Chiaki wasn’t looking at the remnants of her beloved toy anymore. Instead, she peered at the filthy walls and floors of her game chamber. Decayed bits of body parts were strewn about across the floor and the stench was starting to become invasive again.

How long had she been in these chambers? She couldn’t remember when she had first entered, only that soon after, the Servant had appeared. He would scavenge for food and toys for her, to keep her occupied and “satisfied” with any new playthings he happened to procure. Chiaki groaned, her head feeling a bit heavy. “Ungh...” She clutched her face, trying to ignore the stench of death wafting in the air. Something about the charming spell of this place was starting to wear off fast and she quite despised it.

Chiaki shook her head, trying to brush off the sickening realization that she just didn’t know how long she had been in a chamber like this, playing games with toy after toy after toy. How many had she killed? Well... they existed to please her, so it didn’t matter. But... when had she last stepped outside? When had she tried to leave? Every time she had risen from her chair to peer out into the world, the Servant would give her a friendly wave and insist that he would go out to bring her food or more toys. It was all just too irksome.

She turned back to Servant. “I want to leave.”

“Of course. If you’re ready, you’ll win,” said Servant cheerfully, waving his obscured hand. “But if I win… hmm… how about this? For every game you lose against me, I’ll alter your appearance just a little…”

“Alter my appearance…?”

Servant nodded, motioning for her to take a seat back in her Gamer chair.

“That’s right. For every game you fail,” he said, letting his voice trail off just a bit, “I’ll remodel you to look a bit more like Lady Junko Enoshima each time.”

“Of course, are you really sure you want to play?”

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thespeedyreader · 5 years ago

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Black Lives Matter: A (By No Means Complete) Reading List

“Books are a form of political action. Books are knowledge. Books are a reflection. Books change your mind.” - Toni Morrison

It has always been, and always will be, vital to educate ourselves on the world around us. In response to the Black Lives Matter movement, I hope that this blog can become a platform for sharing resources on black history and literature, in a conscious effort to educate both ourselves and those around us. It is our duty to continue to amplify the voices of people of colour, because it is through education that we can make lasting changes in the world.

Here you will find a list of books and essays by authors of colour, and which speak about the experiences of people of colour everywhere. By committing to read even one of these books, you are expanding your consciousness of the lives around you, and giving people of colour a voice.

(Please reblog with your own book recommendations - keep the chain going!)

Classic Fiction

The Bluest Eye - Toni Morrison

Beloved - Toni Morrison

Another Country - James Baldwin

Go Tell It on the Mountain - James Baldwin

The Colour Purple - Alice Walker

Things Fall Apart - Chinua Achebe

Wide Sargasso Sea - Jean Rhys

Kindred - Octavia E. Butler

The Lonely Londoners - Sam Selvon

Small Island - Andrew Levy

Their Eyes Were Watching God - Zora Neale Hurston

To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee

Contemporary Fiction

Americanah - Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Girl, Woman, Other - Bernadine Evaristo

An Orchestra of Minorities - Chigozie Obioma

White Teeth - Zadie Smith

Red at the Bone - Jacqueline Woodson

An American Marriage - Tayari Jones

Queenie - Candice Carty-Williams

A Brief History of Seven Killings - Marlon James

Black Leopard Red Wolf - Marlon James

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous - Ocean Vuong

The Vanishing Half - Brit Bennett

Sorry To Disrupt the Peace - Patty Yumi Cottrell

Freshwater - Akwaeke Emezi

The Fifth Season - N.K. Jemisin

My Sister, the Serial Killer - Oyinkan Braithwaite

What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours - Helen Oyeyemi

Homegoing - Yaa Gyasi

The Underground Railroad - Colson Whitehead

The Nickel Boys - Colson Whitehead

The Girl With the Louding Voice - Abi Daré

We Cast a Shadow - Maurice Carlos Ruffin

Washington Black - Esi Edugyan

The Black Flamingo - Dean Atta

Just Mercy - Bryan Stevenson

The Icarus Girl - Helen Oyeyemi

Poetry, Theatre and Graphic Novels

A Raisin in the Sun - Lorraine Hansberry

Citizen: An American Lyric - Claudia Rankine

Night Sky With Exit Wounds - Ocean Vuong

I Am Alfonso Jones - Tony Medina, illustrated by Stacey Robinson & John Jennings

Your Black Friend and Other Strangers - Ben Passmore

Say Her Name - Zetta Elliot, illustrated by Loveis Wise

Silencer - Marcus Wicker

Don’t Call Us Dead - Danez Smith

How ro Be Drawn - Terrence Hayes

The Black Unicorn - Audre Lorde

Coal - Audre Lorde

Passion - June Jordan

Children’s/YA Fiction

Children of Blood and Bone - Tomi Adeyemi

The Hate U Give - Angie Thomas

Akata Witch - Nnedi Okorafor

Binti - Nnedi Okorafor

You Should See Me in a Crown - Leah Johnson

With the Fire on High - Elizabeth Acevedo

Refugee Boy - Benjamin Zephaniah

Malcolm Little: The Boy Who Grew Up to Become Malcolm X - Ilyasah Shabazz

Not My Idea: A Book About Whiteness - Anastasia Higginbotham

A Is for Activist - Innosanto Nagara

New Kid - Jerry Craft

This Book Is Anti-Racist: 20 Lessons on How to Wake Up, Take Action, and Do the Work - Tiffany Jewell

Non-Fiction and Autobiography

The Miner's Canary: Enlisting Race, Resisting Power, Transforming Democracy - Lani Guiner

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings - Maya Angelou

Me and White Supremacy: How to Recognise Your Privilege, Combat Racism and Change the World - Layla F Saad

Don’t Touch My Hair - Emma Dabiri

Brit(ish): On Race, Identity and Belonging - Afua Hirsch

The Good Immigrant - Nikesh Shukla

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race - Reni Eddo-Lodge (available for free on Yorsearch)

The New Jim Crow - Michelle Alexander (available for free on Yorsearch)

Sister Outsider - Audre Lorde

So You Want to Talk About Race - Ijeoma Oluo

The Fire Next Time - James Baldwin

The Autobiography of Malcolm X - Malcolm X

White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism - Robin DiAngelo

Divided Sisters: Bridging the Gap Between Black Women and White Women - Midge Wilson & Kathy Russell

They Can’t Kill Us All: Ferguson, Baltimore, and a New Era in America’s Racial Justice Movement - Wesley Lowery

Locking Up Our Own: Crime and Punishment in Black America - James Foreman Jr.

The Wretched of the Earth - Frantz Fanon

When They Call You a Terrorist: A Black Lives Matter Memoir - Patrisse Khan-Cullors & Asha Bandele

Eloquent Rage: A Black Feminist Discovers Her Superpower - Brittney Cooper

Waking Up White, and Finding Myself in the Story of Race - Debby Irving

The Hidden Rules of Race: Barriers to an Inclusive Economy - Andrea Flynn, Susan R. Holmberg, Dorian T. Warren, & Felicia J. Wong

Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?: And Other Conversations About Race - Beverly Daniel Tatum

How to Be Anti-Racist - Ibrahim X. Kendi

#black lives matter #blm #books #booklr #bookblr #book #reading #reading list #education #justice #change #thespeedyreader #study #studyblr

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queenjunoking · 4 years ago

Text

Wolf Taming Pt 33

CW: Noncon - Shock Collar - Pain - Petplay - Drugs - Kidnapping - Manipulation - Abuse - Spiders

Rayne’s home couldn’t be more stereotypical. It was a huge gothic eyesore. I knew that Rayne and Flora were one of the more powerful, and rich, couples in the region. I couldn’t imagine they used most of the space inside. It was a flex. Only by the Society’s influence could a place like this remain hidden.

It took a minute to finish the trip up their driveway and park by their front door. It took a lot to unsettle me. This house was one of the things that did. I knew all about the things that happened here. I was under no illusion about what I was to Rayne. She looked at new members that she saw as having some kind of potential and tried to push them. I was vaguely aware of some of the other people she attempted to take under her wing.

Mercy, an ironic name if I had ever heard one. I had seen her work, she worked mostly as a private breaker that just pushed her victims little by little until they broke. I had seen some videos, the childish glee she had as she told her victims they could “take just a little more” over and over. A few more inches. A few more hits. One more notch up on the shock collar. Of course if they could take that Mercy was sure they could take one more. She was to take the phrase “it’s too big” as a challenge. She wanted her victim to say something wasn’t possible.

Melinoë was one of the few people who climbed the ranks from the bottom. She broke people using their phobias. She kept rooms of snakes, spiders, rats and other common phobias and introduced them to people she had rendered immobile. I had seen one of her victims covered head to toe in webs from a swarm of spiders she let into the cell. The light in their eyes had died quickly. Unfortunately not everyone's phobias are so easy to manifest. She was more than happy to keep people in cycles of suffocation or waterboard those that had those fears. She had a technique for almost everything.

Her newest was some newly inducted girl. Apparently she was some serial killer that had killed dozens of low ranked members over the last year. Rayne’s intervention probably saved her a long torturous life at the bottom of one of the Society’s special prisons. I remember Eos making a fuss that the girl had left Rayne’s mansion gone underground a few weeks ago and no one had tracked her down yet. Eos had been on the council deciding the girls fate and had been very vocal about having her imprisoned for life.

I hated them all, none of them had the respect that I had for the people I worked on. I avoided being on that list of people taken under Rayne’s wing by virtue of Eos interacting with me as often as she did. She still left her mark on me though, something I was unable to get rid of, her epithet.

I composed myself as the doors to the limo opened. The driver bowed and helped the both of us out of the car. Once she shut the doors behind us the went up to the front door and rang the doorbell. She waited to the side, her head bowed lest she incur Rayne’s wrath when the door opened.

Rayne

Everything was going… well perfect was a lie. Things never went perfectly. But with a minimum amount of punishments. I only had three other maids taken away while I waited for Z’s arrival. They’d make passable canvases.

I was growing irritated as the minutes slowly passed by. She was supposed to be here at four. It was now ten after four. Good driver’s were hard to come by, but I’d have to find a new one regardless. Perhaps she would make a good lawn ornament. If she wanted to go slow on the roads she may as well be stationary. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about winter for quite awhile.

Finally the doorbell rang, followed by some scattered screams throughout the mansion. The doorbell was wired to some random slaves. It gave them quite the nasty shock when it was pressed, it made sure we would always hear it ring. Our guests were here. Only fifteen minutes late. The two slaves I had left stationed by the front door saw me walk towards them and slowly opened the door.

The sight was… as to be expected. Z was dressed in what I was sure was the most expensive thing she owned. I was a bit upset to see Briar there. I hadn’t given Z a plus one. I’d have to figure out something for her to do, she was just going to make all my plans harder. I wanted Z, alone, without anyone to consult. Having Briar to talk to just made my goal harder.

"Good afternoon Z. I'm glad you could make it to this celebration." I gave her a smile. I tried to play the good host.

"Unfortunately, due to the last minute invitation, I was unable to bring Lady Flora a gift." She looked bored and it pissed me off. Its like she didn't care she didn't bring my darling Flora anything.

"That's alright Z, you're the gift. I'm sure Flora will enjoy meeting you. Follow me." We made our way through the mansion, heading towards the art room I knew my lovely lilac was busy in.

Maids stop and curtsied as we passed by. Flora and I would really have to converge on a design for them. She was in the midst of designing new outfits for them and had them wearing different prototypes. Some were clad in latex, others were dressed in what could only be generously called an outfit. Still others were in floor length outfits that only left their hands and faces uncovered. Different styles from English to French to Japanese. I didn't care much about which style she ultimately chose, I just wanted them to match.

We passed by many of Flora's projects on out walk. All stunningly beautiful. All works of genius. Yet Z looked bored and Briar looked away.

It pissed me off.

I stopped at the top of a staircase in front of a special wall Flora had installed. The renovations had cost a fortune but nothing was too expensive for my beloved buttercup.

"Perhaps you recognize this one, Z?"

The walk through the mansion was what I expected. Battered maids, tortured slaves, and all kinds of horrible art created by Flora.

I looked up at the newest exhibit. It was a resin block that was placed into the wall. There was a woman inside, immobile. Naked and on display. It took a bit for me to see the tubes connected to her inside. Most likely to give her air, water and Ambrosia to keep her alive. She stared out blankly at the room, I doubt she was mentally there anymore.

"I'm afraid I don't." I didn't really care about whatever Rayne was trying to show me. I respected the situation in a certain way. I'm sure the inability to move with no space to take anything more than shallow breaths would break anyone fairly quickly.

It was the same principle I took with Bridget.

"Flora was devastated when you closed up shop. She bought up many of those you broke for her own projects. They're quite magnificent for many purposes. Sometimes its fun to listen to them scream while you work, but you created slaves that simply don't react anymore." She smiled at me as she talked. I hated every word coming out of her mouth. I did this to stop their suffering, not make it worse.

"And the significance of this piece?" I tried pushing the annoyance out of my voice.

"This was the last person you broke. She was sold as a sex slave and was used like that for awhile. But Flora wanted to preserve your last piece. It's been injected with a concoction that should help preserve its beauty. The side effects are quite painful and debilitating, but its encased in resin so it doesn't matter if its debilitating. We believe she'll live another decade in the-"

"I believe you wanted us to meet with Lady Flora?" Briar cut Rayne off. I wasn't sure if it was for my benefit or hers, but I'm glad she did.

Rayne’s fave slipped for just a moment. From a warm and welcoming one to one of sheer annoyance. It only took a moment for her to slip back though. "Yes, we're almost there." She turned and began walking down the hall. I had long lost track of where we were. The house seemed alive with activity no matter where we went. Slaves where everywhere, I couldn't begin to fathom how many she must have.

Rayne opened a door and we could hear someone inside talking. She motioned for us to wait as she slipped inside.

Rayne

"If I heard one more sob out of you I'll give you something to actually be sad about." I heard my gorgeous gardenia tell her canvas as she worked.

Flora's back was to me so I could see her canvas facing me. It was some small thing. It had short black hair, surprising as Flora preferred to claim slaves with long hair.

The canvas was covered in tattoos, new ones. Surprising designs. Flora loved to cover a few maids in tattoos, having some walking art around the mansions. Usually she didn't design tattoos so demonic though.

"What are you working on?" I asked her, giving her a bit of a start as I broke her concentration.

"Oh, raindrop. How many times do I have to tell you not to startle me when I'm working on a piece! I could have gotten a line out of place." She chided me playfully. If she had messed up she'd probably just dispose of it and get a new canvas, it was no big deal.

"My apologies, my sweet… saguaro." I stumbled, my mind was in other places.

She crossed her arms and puffed out her cheeks, looking a bit cross. "A cactus?"

I walked over to her and tip her head up, giving her a kiss. "I apologize, I was taken in by your art."

She smiled, her pout already forgotten. "This canvas was some poor church girl that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I bought her with the intent of reselling her to The Pandemonium Club."

"Don't they give full body recoloring to all their imps? Won't that cover up your lovely art?" Servers at the club were modified to resemble imps. Horn mods were what their servers were known for. The size of their horns indicated their purpose. But they also underwent full body recoloring. Many were purple, blue, red or pink.

"Not at all. That guttersnipe that you brought in gave me one nice thing, a chemical added to this ink will make it glow under the body repainting. So she'll be purple with nice gold tattoos showing." She gave me a toothy grin.

I gave her another kiss. Longer. More passion. "You know I don't like you talking about her like that, she'll be giving us tons of fun to watch. But I'm glad she's helped you."

"Whatever you say. So, may I ask why you've come in? Just wanted to see my art?" Flora was beginning to catch on.

"Your birthday present finally arrived, Love." I smiled, knowing this would make her day.

"Oh?" She feigned an innocent look. "I had completely forgot. What did you get me?"

"I didn't find you a something to give you this year unfortunately." Her look turned sour and she stuck out her bottom lip. "But, I brought in someone you might enjoy meeting."

Nothing happened for a few seconds. I figured that had been an obvious enough of a clue.

"I brought in someone you might enjoy meeting!" I called a bit louder. This time Z and Briar entered the room.

"Z!" Her face lit up and she practically glided over the floor to her. She ignored Briar much as I had. "Its so lovely to have you visit. I am such a fan of your methods. Perhaps we can talk over dinner." I watched her look Z up and down. "And let's get you some nice clothes. Consider it my treat."

Z didn't get a moment to say anything before Flora pulled her out of the room. My present had gone over well so far. If things went my way I'd get rid of Z and make this the best birthday Flora's ever had.

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19umbrellas · 6 years ago

Text

The Great Escape || Ben Hargreeves x Reader || Chapter 6

Description: After the death of your childhood sweetheart you began to have very gory and horrific nightmares that lead to your drug and alcohol problem. After your family found out, your sister admitted you to a rehabilitation facility you begin to see glimpses of your old lover walking about the hallway. Have the nightmares finally drove you insane or is your beloved Ben Hargreeves really back from the dead?

Read and find out uwu

Word Count: 1190

Index: uwu

CHAPTER 6

"You touched her?" Klaus asked, amazed. "And she was able to see you?" He was sitting on a toilet with his trey on his lap as he took a bite out of his sandwich. Ben was standing right in front of him, smiling as he nodded. "Yeah and I think this all has something to do with your powers." he said excitedly and Klaus furrowed his eyebrows. "I... I don't know man. I mean even back then when I was still training with sweet old daddy-o the best I could do was to just... See dead people." he shrugged, mouth filled with ham and bread. "Are you really this desperate to get laid?" he asked after he swallowed the mashed sandwich. Ben deadpanned as he breathed sharply. Klaus was obviously not taking their conversation seriously as he might have hoped. "Klaus, can you please take not turn this into another one of your lame jokes?"

"Hey, don't get pissy on me, man. You're the one who dragged me out of the cafeteria during breakfast time." Klaus said, opening a bottle of orange juice and sipping on it. "I need my nutrients, bro. My body is a temple." Klaus laughed at his impression of Diego but Ben merely shook his head in defeat. "Let's... just go back to the cafeteria." he sighed as he passed through the stall door. Klaus opened the door and followed him. "Aw, don't be like that! You used to love my Diego impressions!"

Klaus was humming happily to himself, clearly satisfied from the breakfast he just ate. As he returned his plates and utensils to the cafeteria lady he told her how much he enjoyed the food today and she just grunted in response. Ben was beside him, tapping his foot to the ground as he waited for Klaus to finish. As Klaus continued his one sided conversation with the lunch lady Ben realized that this was going to be a while so he decided to check out the news on the tv that hung on the wall since the staff and most of the patients seemed interested in it.

He listened to the reporter and his eyes went wide slightly when they showed a blurry picture of a man lying lifeless on his own pool of blood. The reporter said that the victim was a lawyer who got stabbed in the neck and abdomen multiple times and a name carved into his chest. Then the screen cut to a buff man who said that he was a bouncer for the bar next to the crime scene.

"I know that guy! That's my cousin Tommy!" one of the patients yelled. Ben glanced at him before turning back to the news. The bouncer explained that the victim came into the bar ordered a lot of drinks but didn't have money to pay for it then the camera cut zoomed on to a lady detective on the crime scene. "Excuse me, Detective Patch, right? what can you say about this gruesome event?" the journalist held the mic a little too close to the detective's face but she answered their questions calmly despite her discomfort.

"Do you have any comments about the murder? Do you already have a suspect? Do you think the Wondering Stranger has finally reached our city?" the reporter pressed on. "The stab wounds match the pocket knife most commonly used by the Stranger on his victims however we cannot confirm this yet without further testing." another detective interjected. He already looked annoyed at everyone stepping all over the crime scene. "Now, please, ma'am, sir step back out the yellow line and let us do our jobs." the TV turned off and everyone was silent, patients and nurses alike were all dumbfounded at the horrific news. Klaus was standing next to Ben, with his arms cross as he observed the reactions of his fellow patients.

There were no movements at first until the everyone started whispering to each other in a panic. Their voices gradually got louder and louder to the point where it seemed as though they were going to start a riot but the caretakers and the nurses were quick to defuse the situation.

"Everyone, please remain calm. The police still do not know if the killer is in fact the Wondering Stranger. Even if it was we assure you that we will do the best we can to ensure your safety while you are staying with us." Nurse Elaine, one of oldest nurses in the facility, said in a loud but reassuring voice. "Please do not worry yourself, I assure you that you're safety and well being is our number one priority." This seemed to have cut the tension a bit as everyone piped down the air was still filled with dread as everyone thought about the infamous serial killer being only a few blocks away. Nurse Elaine instructed the other staff to please direct the patients accordingly to start their daily routines. Everyone was escorted out the cafeteria including Klaus as he made his way to Blue and Webber as they all filed outside.

Ben stayed behind and sat on one of the tables as he stared outside the window onto the bright blue sky. He was thinking about the killers nickname, The Wondering Stranger. Why did that name sound so familiar to him. He had an odd feeling in his stomach like he should know this. But he didn't. He quietly skimmed through his memory for a similar name as the cafeteria staff began to clean up the mess that the patients left on their table.

You sat on the same bench you sat on last night as you quietly watched the birds drinking and bathing on the sculpted rock in front of you. You held a leaf in your hand as you twisted it into a knot as you stared off into space. "It's time for your group therapy, (y/n)." A hand suddenly perched itself on your shoulder, bringing you back to earth as you noticed Nurse Millie smiling down at you. "Oh my, you don't look too good, dear. Are you alright? I didn't see you at breakfast." She looked at you worriedly. You nodded reassuringly before saying, "I had a bad dream last night and I just.... lost my appetite, I guess."

"Oh, alright then." She said."Still you must be starving. Here take this." she handed you a (f/chocolate bar). "It's my favorite" she said. "You should eat something to start off your day. Even if it's just chocolate." you thanked her and placed the bar into your pocket before standing up. Nurse Millie walked inside and led you to a room where every sat in circle and talked about their experiences when they were under the influence of certain substances. Everyone stopped and looked at you as you walked in with Nurse Millie.

She whispered something to the therapist as you looked at the people in this room. You didn't recognize any of the faces other than Klaus who was smiling at you and waving his hand. You waved back, still feeling a bit awkward after crying to him last night but the look on his face made you loosen up a bit. "Alright everybody, meet your new circle group mate, (y/n)." Everyone said "Hi (y/n)" simultaneously and greeted them back. "Grab a chair over there (y/n) so we can get started." You nodded and grabbed a metal chair over at the other side of the room and placed it next to Klaus who was gesturing for you to come sit next to him. Once you were comfortable, you shot a grateful nod to Nurse Millie before she smiled and left.

"Alright, so where were we? Ah, yes, Luke, you were saying about your mother?" one of the patients nodded and picked up where he left off before you came in.

A.N.: Heyyy!

Sorry for the late update, I’ve been working on some fanart huhu, yes I draw fanart... well I only drew two so far Q-Q. I’ll be posting it later on my main blog, @pipschtick, along with a speedpaint on Youtube! So if you’re interested in that stuff just follow that blog or something huhu.

Taglist:

@purple-alien-monkey @sweetkenzo @rougemme @padfootz-princess

#ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x you #ben hargreeves fanfiction #number six #number 6 #the horror #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy #tua x reader #fanfiction #writing #reader insert #x reader

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achiouma · 6 years ago

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Title: Revealing Truths in the Early Mourning

Prompt: "Ouma trying to overcome his trust issues and Saihara reaching for him, trying to understand him. (They both succeed.) Kind of angst with happy end inside the killing game.”

For: Participant #47

Hello! This is my gift for participant #47 in the @oumasaiexchange, so sorry this took so long to post! I’ll be honest, I’ve never written anything OumaSai related that takes place in the Killing Game setting, so this was kinda hard for me to write (I’m not very confident in it ;-;) Nonetheless, it was a very interesting prompt to write about, and I hope you enjoy the story! :)

To Saihara Shuuichi, Ouma Kokichi was nothing more but an enigma to him.

In the time that the two have been trapped in this ‘Killing Game’ together with fourteen others ultimates, Shuuichi has gained little to no knowledge of the self-proclaimed Supreme Leader. To him, while Kokichi’s actions thus far all seem to have been made out of pure spite, at the same time he couldn’t shake away the sense that they were also extremely well-planned and coordinated accordingly.

As if he was intentionally trying to make everyone despise him. As if he wanted everyone to distrust every single bit of his being.

Shuuichi wasn’t biting into it though. Maybe it was the detective within him, but a part of him told him that there was something more to Ouma Kokichi than he led on, more than what he let everyone in this hell site of an academy know about him.

These thoughts often plagued the detective’s mind whether he was or wasn’t with the smaller boy; however, now in the early hours of the morning after the third class trial, Shuuichi found himself thinking about anything but Kokichi.

It was no surprise that Shuuichi didn’t sleep at all after the class trial; the scene of Angie and Tenko’s lifeless bodies on the ground and Korekiyo being boiled alive during his execution still fresh in his mind. After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, Shuuichi finally gave up on attempting to get some rest, and instead opted to get out of the stuffy room to receive some fresh air.

He welcomed to cool night air as he strolled about the academy campus, mind attempting to focus on anything other than the events he had witness earlier that night. Shuuichi had never bothered going out after the Nighttime Announcement would go off, and now he somewhat questioned himself as to why. The silence of the night, the cool breeze, the night sky that sparkled with millions upon millions of stars. It was almost relaxing, maybe even peaceful….

That is until he spotted the silhouette of a figure walking ahead of him in the distance.

Shuuichi froze in place, heart suddenly thumping harder in his chest. Why was he suddenly so afraid? It was probably the fact that just hours ago he had found his friends dead and having been killed by a serial killer, and the fact that he knew that he could be next person dead on the floor at any given moment. But the figure simply kept walking ahead of him, meaning that they had no idea of Shuuichi’s presence as well.

The logical side of the boy’s head told him to simply walk in the other direction and let the figure be; surely there would be other students walking around wanting to indulge in the fresh air of the night, especially after the recent events. But the other side of Shuuichi’s head told him to follow the figure and see what they are doing out so late into the night, even if it wasn’t none of his business.

After a bit of mental arguing, Shuuichi finalized his decision and decided to follow the mysterious figure, at least until he could figure out who the person was exactly.

He jogged a bit in order to catch up to the walking figure, then slowed down into silent footsteps once he was close, but not too close to the person in question. While the figure was still ways away for Shuuichi to instantly identify them from where he stood, from what he could see was that the figure was rather petite looking, definitely not one of his taller classmates.

Instantly, one person came to mind at that description, however Shuuichi quickly pushed the thought away. Now wasn’t the time for speculating, he needed more evidence before he could determine anything. He continued to follow the figure, making sure the keep his distance and occasionally hide behind objects along the way for extra measures.

Finally, the figure seemed to come to a stop upon reaching the courtyard, and Shuuichi watched as the figure removed an object from their pants pocket before bending down over something. The detective snuck over to a nearby tree, and from there he could finally see who he had been following around all this time.

Turns out, his first suspicions had been correct as purple dip-dyed hair and a white uniform came into view.

“Ouma-kun?” Shuuichi thought, now even more intrigued about his little investigation. “What is he doing out here at-“

It was at that moment that Shuuichi realized what exactly the smaller boy was doing, as he watched Kokichi begin to carve out letters into the rock that his fellow classmate had discovered just after the first class trial, with the mysterious message on it.

“O-Ouma-kun! What are you doing?!” Shuuichi practically screeched upon realizing what he was just witnessing. The sudden scream seemed to also startle the other boy, as he dropped the razor blade he was holding and stood up to face Shuuichi faster than he could react. For a split second his eyes go wide with shock and what Shuuichi identified as actual confusion before it just as quickly disappeared and was replaced with his signature smile, his hands instantly going behind his head.

“My my! If it isn’t my beloved Saihara-chan! What are you doing up so late into the night, hm?” The supreme leader tried to play off. Shuuichi didn’t know what to say at first, still trying to comprehend what he saw before settling with a “I-I could ask you the same thing…”

“I asked you first though! Such a hard working detective like yourself should be fast asleep in his room by now.” Hands still behind his back, Kokichi waltzed around Shuuichi, eyeing him with wide eyes that seemed almost innocent if it weren’t for the fact that he was just adding onto the message that no one in the academy knew anything about.

“I-I’m not here to play games Ouma-kun.” The taller one said, causing Kokichi to holt his movement. He looked up at Shuuichi, arms slacking off of his head and onto his side, grin on his face gone before he looked back down at the rock. Shuuichi followed his gaze as he looked as well, seeing that there were a few new added letters to the message. To him though, it still looked like a jumble of random letters put together, and it seemed as if Kokichi was in the middle of adding a ‘W’ when he had been interrupted.

Slowly, he was starting to piece together a theory that he extremely disliked.

“Ouma-kun,” Shuuichi started, staring down at the boy in front of him. The boy didn’t even move, poker face still firmly in place. “I-I don’t know exactly what you’re trying to do, b-but I know for a fact that you wouldn’t be adding on letters to the message for no reason.”

When he stopped, Kokichi looked up at him, almost as if he was expecting something from him. “Go on.” Was what he said.

Shuuichi looked at him, even more confused than before, but decided to continue on. “Were.… were you perhaps the one who wrote this message in the first place?”

“Hmmm, you don’t sound too confident with what you’re saying Mr. Detective, you gotta say it with more gusto than that!” He suddenly shouted, startling the poor detective. “T-there’s literally no other reason for you to mess with it anyway!” Shuuichi suddenly shouted, catching the other boy’s attention. “U-unless you…”

Suddenly, Kokichi was all too close to him, his body pressed up again his own as Shuuichi struggled to maintain his balance and not fall backward. The other looked up at him with a sinister look in his eyes, a dangerous smirk going across his face. “Unless I, what, my beloved Shumai?” he practically whispered, staring intently at the taller boy.

At this point, there were two ideas in Shuuichi’s mind, one idea that he definitely favored more than the other. He gulped as he made the choice to go with the safest idea, trying to maintain eye contact with the boy pressing against him.

“U-unless you…. d-did all of this t-to…. mess with us?” Shuuichi finally let out, stuttering more than he could control.

For a moment, things were silent between the two of them as they stared into each other intently.

And then Kokichi sprang away, toothy smile back on his face as if it never left. “Correct! It may have taken Shumai soooo long to figure out, but at least you did!” The boy shouted out with glee, almost as if he was glad that Shuuichi had found him out.

“H-huh…?” Was all the detective could say out of pure confusion. Something didn’t seem… right about any of this.

“I said you were right.” Kokichi stated, this time significantly less joyful and noticeably more bored. “I did all of this for shits and giggles. ‘Horse A’ or whatever the hell I put on it at first never had any sort of meaning to it, it was all just to make this game even more fun.” The smaller one looked down at his nails, boredom present in his face as if he didn’t want to be here anymore.

“It’s such a shame really, I was hoping to continue on this joke and mess with the others for much longer!” He let out an over dramatic sigh. “But now, Saihara-chan has gone and ruined the-“

“I don’t believe you.”

At that Kokichi’s rambling stopped, and the poker look on his face instantly returned. “What?” He said, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion that it almost made Shuuichi’s hairs stand.

“I-I said,” Shuuichi stated, trying to will in what little confidence he had, “I don’t believe you, Ouma-kun.”

Kokichi stayed silent as Shuuichi continued. “It’s true that I don’t know what your true intentions are with these letter or why you even started them to begin with. But I do know that you wouldn’t just mess with us to ‘make this game more fun’.”

The detective inhaled a shaky breath, before staring confidently into Kokichi’s face. “So, please, tell me what’s really going on. You can trust me Ouma-kun. We’ve already been through hell and back in his killing game, the only way we can get out is if we can trust each other. Please….”

Shuuichi finished, inhaling deeply as Kokichi continued to stare at him, a puzzled look on his face. Finally, he let out a tired sigh, biting at his thumb nail as he looked down in thought. “You really are stubborn, Saihara-chan….” he mumbled to himself, even though Shuuichi could still clearly hear him.

Before he could respond, Kokichi looked back up, a serious and doubtful look on his face, but yet at the same time with the tiniest hint of hopeful in it as well. “Listen up Saihara-chan, I’m not into this whole ‘trust’ shit, but maybe for you this one time I’ll let you in on what I know about this ‘killing game’.”

“O-oh.” Was all Shuuichi said, causing for an annoyed groaned to come out of Kokichi. “That’s all you have to say to that?! Ugh, just come with me.” At that, the smaller boy grabbed onto Shuuichi’s sleeve and began pulling him towards what he assumed was the direction of the dorm rooms.

The taller boy stumbled after him, still rather dazed at what just happened. He didn’t know what exactly he was getting himself into, but as he watched the smaller boy drag him along to explain more about their mysterious imprisonment, deep down Shuuichi couldn’t help but be certain that this is the answer to their escape.

With Kokichi, Shuuichi was certain that they can put an end to this game once and for all.

#SaiOuma #OumaSai #OumaSai Winter Exchange 2018 #fanfic #Ouma Kokichi #Saihara Shuuichi

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deloreslindquist-blog · 5 years ago

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dr-gloom · 6 years ago

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To Join You By Your Side

For Halloween! Day 31 of @sanderssidesspook‘s Spook Month!

Prompt: The Big Spook

Fandom: Sander’s Sides

Pairing: Sleepxiety

Words: 3,193

Summary: This was by far the scariest thing Virgil has ever done in his life. He’s planned for this day for months, put up with things he never would have before, just to see this day happen. All for Remy.

Tags/Warnings: flashbacks, cute nerds, self deprecation, halloween festivities, I’m trying to tag this without giving anything away, Human AU

Enjoy!

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Virgil was scared. No, scratch that, he was terrified. The walls were closing in, looming high above him. Shadows were slithering from every corner and crevice to swallow him up. He pulls at the cuffs of his costume - because that’s all this was, a costume - nervously. He’d been planning this for months. Dozens of phone calls, meetings, and compromises to make this happen. All the near-heart-attacks from listening to the phone ring just to hear it be answered and that split second of silence that made his breathing stop.

Virgil paced his living room anxiously, wearing a path into the old, dingy carpet. He listened to the sound of the phone ringing, heart beating a little too quickly and his anxiety ratcheting up with every pause between ringing. Finally, finally- the call was answered. There was silence for a split second, and then-

“Jack and Jill’s Flower Garden, how may I help you?”

Virgil swallowed nervously. “Ah, yeah, I uh- I need to order two dozen bouquets of uh…” He looks at the small list in his hand, the paper crumpled from his anxious fidgeting. “Double Orange Begonias, Orange Ranunculus Victoria, and Eggplant Calla Lilies.”

“Can I get an address for delivery?”

Virgil gives them the address and hangs up, his heart hammering in his chest. God, he hated phone calls. He has to sit on the carpet and practice his breathing exercise for a few minutes before he’s calm enough.

He must’ve just debated cancelling this whole thing a dozen times, but it wasn’t about him, and he would never do that. Not to Remy, who’d been looking forward to this so much (if it wasn’t for the fact that he was so busy, he’d be the one planning this).

Because today wasn’t just about him. Today was about the both of them. Virgil had searched for the perfect place to pull this off for months, searched for just the right things to make sure this went perfectly. Practicing his lines over and over and over again until he could recite them in his sleep. Then he worried that he had said them in his sleep and ruined everything. Ruined the surprise. Someone knocked on the door and he jumped, his heart skipping a beat. Patton opened the door sheepishly and smiled at Virgil. “Hey kiddo, you ready?”

Patton was wearing a nice black suit and light blue tie, fangs just barely poking past his lips, only really visible when he smiled.

Virgil nodded, tugging on his cuffs one last time before leaving his impromptu dressing room and taking his place. He looked around the room. Bouquets are placed strategically around the room (Logan had been adamant about finding the perfect balance). Spider’s webs are draped over every piece of furniture. Orange and black accents are placed around the room, ribbon running along the walkway. This was going to be the scariest thing he’d ever done.

Today was Virgil’s wedding.

He stood at the front of the church (he’d been hesitant about having their wedding in a church since neither of them were religious, but Remy promised it was ironic as hell, especially since their wedding was on Halloween) next to the minister, anxiously playing with the cufflinks on his jacket. He was never one for suits, because he didn’t like how constricting they felt, but he and Remy had spent a week making little changes to their outfits as a sort of compromise. Virgil was sort of a Frankenstein’s monster kind of thing (closer to Sally, really), with purple plaid patches sewn onto the suit and the odd bunch of fake leaves sticking out between seams and folds in the fabric. He used liquid latex and fake stitching to make it look like he was sewn together. Remy was supposed to be a zombie.

Patton, Logan, Roman, sat in the front row, giving Virgil the odd encouraging smile or nod when he’d glance their way. He gives them a shaky smile, adjusting a fake leaf that keeps tickling his neck. Declan, who stands next to him as his best man, squeezes his shoulder. A more suspenseful version of The Wedding March starts up, and Virgil stiffens. Shit, it’s starting. Shit shit shit shit. Virgil stands at attention, looking over towards the doors. Everyone stands and looks as well.

Remy enters in his torn and dirtied suit, face makeup making his skin look dead and decaying, one lense of his (spare) shades shattered to reveal a sunken-in eye. Virgil had to hand it to Remy, he really knew his makeup. He briefly lost himself in his fiancé, forgetting that he was supposed to be scared out of his mind. It wasn’t until Remy was almost next to him that he remembered that this was a wedding and he was getting married oh god what was Remy doing marrying him?

The music stops, everyone sits, and the minister smiles kindly at the room. “Hello all. Shall we begin?” With a slightly jerky nod from Virgil and a smirk from Remy, he starts. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union between two souls in a bond of holy matrimony...”

Virgil looks over Remy’s face, taking in the liquid latex deforming his features and making him look dead and decayed. He thinks about the first time they met.

Virgil liked to come to the park at night when he was feeling overwhelmed. It was calm, quiet, and it held a strange air of other-worldness that made you feel like you were the only living being left. He liked that feeling when the world has become too much (the rest of the time? Not so much). He was sitting on one of the park’s benches, facing the empty soccer fields with his headphones over his ears, listening to Twenty One Pilots. In his opinion, they perfectly captured that feeling you got from witnessing an abandoned swing set. The perfect mood music for when your mind was spiralling and you needed it to stop. He pulled himself out of his thoughts to focus on the lyrics.

“Though I'm weak

Beaten down

I'll slip away

Into the sound

The ghost of you

Is close to me

I'm inside out

You're underneath”

Virgil saw something out of the corner of his eye and tensed up. Oh god, figures. On the one night he just wanted to be alone he’d been found by a park-going serial killer. He was gonna die. They were gonna kill him and he wouldn’t be found until morning and he’d ruin some poor kid’s memory of parks forever. That kid was going to need so much thera-

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped, screaming and ripping his headphones off.

The man puts his hands up, a clear Starbucks cup in one hand. “Whoa, babe, calm-”

“I- I am no one’s babe, fuck you!”

The man takes a step back. “Ooookaaayyyy. Let’s take a deep breath, yeah? I just wanted to ask if you knew where we are right now, because I sure don’t.”

Virgil blinks, going lax and staring at the man with complete confusion. “I… What?”

“I’m so lost right now.”

“You and me both, buddy.”

The man shakes his head. “No, I mean, I have no clue where we are. What park is this?” Virgil looks around. Was this a prank?

“Uh…. Richmont.”

The man just stares at him.

“...By the Cleaver Mall?”

Nothing.

“Do you even live in Randsy?”

The man sighs. “Nope. Treeling.”

Okay, that wasn’t too far, actually, but… “How the hell did you get all the way here without knowing where you’re going?”

He laughs lightly. “I have no idea.”

“...wrote their own vows. Mr. Nocturn will be sharing his first.”

Virgil blinks, bringing himself back to the present moment. Remy smiles, knowing exactly what had just happened. His smile warps the decaying flesh on his face a bit, though he doesn’t seem to notice or care. Virgil smiles back, one of his small, secretive smiles, and Remy finally begins speaking.

“Virge, I never thought that I’d ever meet someone like you. Having you in my life has made me so much happier.” He laughs lightly, taking Virgil’s hands. “You know I get lost a lot, but now I’ll only get lost in you, baby. You’re the ice to my latte, the steam to my green tea, the spice to my pumpkin. I couldn’t live without you, even if I wanted to, and I’m so happy that you said yes, babe.” His voice gets softer, his eyes a little misty. “I want to grow old with you. I want to share the covers on winter nights, be your heater when you get cold, have sappy romantic Lady and the Tramp moments with spaghetti dinners, and watch Nightmare before Christmas every night of October. I want to work with you, to grow with you, to laugh and cry with you, because you’re the reason I try. You’re the reason I can laugh and smile, and see the beauty in the world, as well as the dark. Because even if you consider yourself dark and gloomy, you need the darkness to appreciate the light. You complete me, and I can’t wait to finally start living life with you.”

Remy had tears in his eyes, and he was smiling, but he refused to cry. As he would tell Virgil on any given day, crying would totally ruin his mascara. Virgil didn’t know how he did it; he was certain he’d start crying any second. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was happy or scared, though.

“Are you… Are you sure?”

Remy laughed lightly. “Why would I have asked you to marry me if I wasn’t sure?”

Virgil frowns. “Because I’m… Me.”

“I’m not sure I follow, babe.”

Virgil sighs. “I just… Are you sure you wanna be stuck with me for the rest of our lives? I mean…. I’m gloomy. Depressing. I talk about creepy and weird and depressing shit and I’m always in a crappy mood and half the time I don’t even want to talk or leave the house.”

Remy smiles at him sadly. “Babe, I love you because of your faults, not in spite of them.”

“But… how?” How could Remy love the parts of him that even he didn’t like? The parts he wished he could change, or just get rid of? It didn’t make any sense.

“It doesn’t have to make sense,” Remy said, as if he was reading Virgil’s mind. “Feelings hardly ever really make sense, Virge. You taught me that, remember? You don’t have to understand where they come from or why they’re there to be able to accept them. Just like I don’t need to understand my love for you to know that it’s real.”

Virgil could feel the tears building on his lashes. He loved Remy so much, but he was afraid of trapping the other in a marriage he would regret. Virgil knew he wasn’t an easy person to get along with. He knew that eventually Remy would get sick of him, and he couldn’t stand the thought of that. But god, he was selfish. He wanted to know what it’d be like to wake up next to the man he loved and be able to say “my husband” when talking to friends or co-workers. Even if it hurt them both in the long run, he desperately wanted something to hold on to.

Virgil blinked the memory from his vision, the perfect, smiling face of his fiancé being replaced with the grey and decaying version with tears in his eyes. Virgil blinked again and twin tears fell down his cheeks. He hurried to wipe them away, giving a weak, shaky laugh. Their friends watch on with loving smiles as Remy takes his hands and kisses his cheeks where his tears once sat. Virgil takes a few deep breaths, the first one shaky, and looks up at Remy. Remy nods, giving him an encouraging smile. Virgil swallows.

This wasn’t about just him, this was for Remy, too.

“Remy, you’re the only person who doesn’t talk over me or ignore me or get mad and persistent when I disagree. I love that we can talk about anything without losing our love. You appreciate me and I appreciate you, too. I want to spend my life taking care of you and loving you and making you happy, you adorable, fabulous cutie. Thank you for loving me.”

To someone outside of the relationship, Virgil’s vows might sound lackluster. They might sound like he really didn’t care. But Remy knew better. He knew Virgil, and he knew all the things that went unsaid in the way his voice shook and the shine in his eyes. Remy knew just how much love went unspoken behind those words, because his Virgil had never been one for long, rambling soliloquies. Virgil was a man of few words, and if you didn’t know him, you might miss the real meaning.

Thank you for always being there for me, for listening to me. Thank you for always trying to understand me, even when you don’t. Thank you for trying. For never giving up. Thank you for trusting me the way I trust you. I love you, so much, more than words can say, and it means so much to me that you feel the same. I want to always be there for you, to take care of you and love you and hold you when you need me, or even when you don’t but you still want me. I’d do anything to make you happy, just the way you’ve made me happy. I want to make you the happiest man in the world, because that’s what you deserve. Thank you, for everything.

Remy’s tears finally spilled over, pooling in the crevices of the latex on his skin. He was always one for preserving your makeup, but this was his special day and if anyone expected him not to cry then they could shove it where the sun don’t shine. Remy’s smile grew and he squeezed Virgil’s hands, letting his love know that he got the message. He understood, and he loved him, so very much.

The priest smiled warmly, looking to Remy once again. "Remington Bartholomew Nocturn-” Virgil snorted. Remy grimaced. Why did they include his middle name? So old-school. “-do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Remy nods, looking right into Virgil’s eyes with rarely-seen seriousness. “I do.”

The priest nods and looks at Virgil. “And do you, Virgil Andrew Shae, take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

Virgil nods emphatically, more tears falling. His voice cracks as he says, “I do.” He gives Remy a shaky smile, squeezing his hands.

The priest looks at Remy. “Repeat after me.” Remy nods. “I, Remy, take you, Virgil,”

Remy smiles, feeling a little silly. He quickly schools his expression. “I, Remy, take you, Virgil.”

“To be my husband,”

“To be my husband,” A small laugh escapes him. This was really happening. He was really marrying the love of his life.

“To have and to hold,”

“From this day forward,”

“For better, for worse,”

“For richer, for poorer,”

“In sickness and in health,”

“To love and to cherish,”

“Till death do us part.”

“Til death do us part.” Remy grinned broadly. Virgil rolled his eyes.

The priest has Virgil repeat the vows. “I, Virgil, take you, Remy,”

Virgil bites his lip. “I, Virgil, take you, Remy,”

“To be my husband,”

“To have and to hold,”

“From this day forward,”

“For better, for worse,”

“For richer, for poorer,”

“In sickness and in health,”

“In sickness and in health,” God, Remy always was the worst bitcher when he got a cold though.

“To love and to cherish,”

“Till death do us part.”

“Til death do us part.” Virgil’s voice comes out choked. Old doubts reared their head; what if he woke up tomorrow and realized this was all a mistake? Or in a year? Five years? Ten?

Remy squeezed his hands, pulling him out of his mind. Virgil looks up at him and sees him mouth ‘I love you’. Virgil smiles and mouths it back, wishing he could just kiss this dumb nerd’s face already. God, he really didn’t deserve him.

“Now, can whomever has the rings step forward and present them to the couple?”

Declan moves forward with the small pillow, holding it out for the pair. Virgil and Declan share a smile, Virgil’s eyes tracing over the sloppily-wrapped, dingy bandages covering his friend from head to foot. Of course he’d be a mummy, why not. He turns back to Remy, fingering the ring in his hand. The metal feels cold, weighted, oppressive-

No. It felt like a promise. A promise to always be there, to always love one another. Virgil smiles.

“Now, Remy, please place the ring on Virgil’s left ring finger and repeat after me: I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."

Remy grins, taking Virgil’s left hand and slipping the plain silver band onto his ring finger, making eye contact with him and saying, "I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."

“Now Virgil. Place the ring on Remy’s left ring finger and repeat after me: I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."

Virgil took Remy’s left hand in his own shaky one, slipping a plain gold band onto his ring finger and saying, "I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."

The priest nods. “Please join hands.” Remy and Virgil take each other’s hands, smiling widely. They know what comes next. "By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the State of Florida, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss.”

Remy pulls Virgil close, kissing him deeply. Virgil closes his eyes and melts into it as his friends and family shoot to their feet, all clapping (and in Patton’s case, cheering loudly. Very loudly). They finally pull away after a few seconds, turning to face their loved ones with joined hands. The priest holds his arms out, smiling broadly.

“May I now present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mr. Shae-Nocturn.”

The reason I wrote a wedding is because, let’s be honest, getting married is one of the scariest things you can do. Also, this is a tribute to mine and my hubby’s Halloween wedding today! He’s the Virgil to my Remy. I love him so much <3

Their vows are actually the vows we wrote, so I had a lot of fun with all of this haha. I hope you all enjoyed this just as much as me. Though October may be over, the adventure never will be. Keep checking in to see what other cool stuff I’m working on! Thank you all so much for the support <3

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #sleepxiety #patton sanders #remy sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #halloween

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