#the invisible life of addie larue | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

7brownsuga7 · 6 months ago

Text

The God who answers after dark ☆ The intro:

Summary: You used to pray to the Gods after dark before you went to sleep, always thinking that you were praying to the good kind. The kind that showed mercy. However you were mistaken, as time passes and you grew older and wiser it will be revealed that your prayers were answered, but not by the Gods you thought you knew, but the dark kind. The kind that your grandmother used to warn you about. Ones you hear in stories. The kind that you should fear, but how can you when it's all you know. How can you when he was the only one who answered?

Tags&warnings: Jungkookxfemreader, mostly fluff I guess, a bit of smut if you would call it that?!?? age gap I guess?!!? Jungkook is obsessed with reader, a bit delusional. Slight manipulation???! MDNI!!!

Word count: 3k+

Note: making this into a series🫶🏽 this is just a little something that I wrote when I was bored. Be prepared for more obsessive and possessive Jungkook!

Was inspired by the book invisible life of Addie-Larue

The God who answers after dark ☆ series master list: Here ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was dark.

The night creating shadows in the corner of your room, allowing your imagination to run wild, creating things scary to imagine.

You wasn’t scared though, because you knew it was your imagination. And because you’ve experienced something way darker. You invited him into your home with a simple whisper, let him talk to you throughout the many dark nights, telling him your dreams and wishes of a better life where you are happy and loved.

You was always an imaginative child. While you watched others make friends, you created your own, that grew along with you. Who only came out at night.

You first called upon him when you were only seven. Mindlessly talking to the open air. You had wanted a friend. A friend you could talk to, play with, share secrets with. So you stared off into the dark and talked about nothing and everything. However, when you saw the shadows in the corner of your room move, and sit before you did you realise that you summoned something else. Not a friend, not an imaginary one, something much darker. Still you spoke to it, and it spoke to you like rough winds in the cool night. It comforted you like a cool breeze in a summers heat.

You found comfort in him. You would mindlessly tell him your dreams. He would make empty promises of giving you that dream felt life. Empty, because they came with a price that you were not willing to pay for. Still he would sit beside you and listen to your stories and dreams.

You had asked him what his dreams were and he had told you that he was the son of a God - he had none, but he could grant them within due time. When he himself became a God. So he settled with telling you stories about Gods and wars. Desperate souls and deals. The kind his father spoke to him about, the kind he experienced himself.

Then, he was an angel, the son of a God he refused to speak of. Now, he is a God himself, the God of Darkness. Like the type you’d find deep in a forest, hidden behind the shadows of the trees, infused within the night that covers the sky like a blanket. Comforting to some, suffocating for others.

You was a child who had a lot to wish for and no control of your imagination back then. His company grew on you so much that he was like an accessory to your room. Like a cushion that decorated your bed, a small plant that had a home on your desk, a stack of books that rested in a pile on your bedside table. He felt like home.

The man that would sit before you, appearance created from your imagination - answered you everytime you called on him. He was always there with you. When you looked out of your window at night, when you wrote in your diary about the stories he’d tell you. In your dreams. He was always there.

It was dark.

So you did what you’ve always done when the lights went out, and people lay deep asleep. The night silent and still.

You called for him.

“Yes my love?” He appeared from the dark corner of your room. Once a shadow, now a man that sat before you on your bed. The only bit of light was the shine from the moon and the small warm lamp next to your bed.

You always expect the bed to shift as he sits down, but his weight is like a feather held in one’s palm. Light and weightless. Proof that the form you see before you is none other than what he has stolen from your imagination. His true form something like a stream in the night. Dark and shallow.

His lean body presented in a white button up shirt and black slacks. Very simple, but styled so well. He was always so well presented, dressed so elegantly. You knew that that wasn’t your imagination that created the fine attire, it was simply him, the Darkness who was a charmer, who had lived many years before you. Of course he’d picked up some style on the way.

“I want to be loved” you spoke out, tone delicate like a whisper, too embarrassed, too afraid.

“Y/n my dear, you are loved by many. Your mother adores you, friends cherish you, need I say more?” His eyes match his soul, dark and intense, yet they still seem to be so warm, inviting. It’s either that or his voice that draws you in. So soothing yet so deep. Like a calm ocean that holds many depth below.

“Not that kind of love. I want to be loved by a man. I want to feel that type of love I read in books and see in movies. The type of love my grandparents have. The type of love that won’t make me feel so alone anymore”

He chuckles a beautiful melody.

You always surprised him. The things you’d speak and dream of so bizarre yet so intriguing. Out of all the souls who begged for his help and all the humans he’s encountered, you’re the one that amused him most. A girl who asked and wished for so much, yet all she needed to do was look in the mirror and realise her worth, her power.

But he of all people knew that wishes were easy to slip from one’s lips. Words slide out of people’s mouths just as easy as a balloons string slips out of a child’s hand, so effortlessly. People are so careless when it comes to words. If only they knew the power it holds.

Wishes, prayers. They were all the same to him. It didn’t matter because they both had the same outcome, the same deal, the same promise, the same fate and the same desperation. The person was always begging and pleading in the end, too desperate to have their prayers answered to form a logical sentence, and to understand a twisted deal.

“You are not alone my love. I am here, I’ve always been here. I am the breeze that embraces you in the night, the darkness that lulls you to sleep. I am here. And you are loved.”

“You are not a man, even if you choose to be in this moment.” Your words are harsh, yes, but that’s what he loved about you. You were honest with him, you weren’t afraid.

“I can be the darkness of the night, a friend when you need company, I can be a man…”

When you make no move to respond to him, he rolls his eyes and sighs. “But before all of that I am a God. A God that answers wishes, say the words and I’ll give it to you, for a price”

This isn’t the first time he’s said this, and this isn’t the first time you’ve asked for something. But it always ends up with the same outcome, an offer of a sacrifice that you refuse. And then the whole interaction is swept away in the night, forgotten.

“Im not sacrificing my soul to you”

“My dear, you’ve called upon me countless of times, I’ve stayed by your side for years, you must know by now that you’re mine. I may not have your soul entirely, but yours is bound with mine, through shared memories and dreams, nights and years.”

“Don’t you get tired of chasing something that doesn’t belong to you? That will never be yours?”

“I have patience” is the only thing he says before he changes the subject back to your previous wish.

“I’d love to help you. You know I always do. But you should know by now that I can’t just give you that. I can’t just muster up a man for you that will make love to you. You want me to grant your wish of being loved by a man, that I can’t do, but like I said, I can be a lot of things.”

His hand reaches out to touch your jaw, thumb caressing it. His touch light, smooth. And despite everything, you wish he would touch you more, so you lean into his touch.

“I can be a God, an Angel, a Devil, a Human. Whatever you’d like me to be, as long as I am yours and you are mine”

“That’s not the type of love I’m talking about” your voice is shaky, unsure of what you want. What you need.

“Oh isn’t it? All those nights you would touch yourself to images of me… where you would talk to yourself about wanting to be touched. Those days where you would listen to all your friends stories about being with another, being touched by another. You envy them. You want to be loved in a way that has your skin littered with goosebumps, chills running down your spine” his fingers brush along your collarbone and you feel a shiver come across your body.

You think back to the nights where you would dream of his fingers against your skin. Light, cool and delicate.

“You must know by now that your body is mine. Your mind, your heart, your soul. Stop wasting your time being stubborn and let me give you what you want. The love you hope for, a world where you’re happy, things go your way. I can give you all of that if you would just be mine”

You hate the fact that he’s partially right. You have dreamt about him and thought of many nights where he would lay you in bed and take you as his. It was one of your dark fantasies that you never spoke of, you couldn’t , not to him.

Just as much as you were, he was stubborn. And as a God that always gets his way, he hates being told no.

“I see you’re making it a habit of calling me yours. You may be a God, but I don’t belong to you. I won’t”

“Within due time”

You don’t say anything else, instead you focus on the stillness of the room. The way his presence is so strong, the way you feel relaxed around him.

“You want me to grant your wish of being loved by a man? I can’t give that to you if you don’t sacrifice, but I can show you how to be loved, y/n. I can show you what it feels like to be touched” his hand brushes the side of your face. His eyes pouring into yours, if you didn’t know his games you would almost fall for his tricks. Almost.

“Is this how you get people to give you their souls? Is this one of your twisted games? I give you my body and you take my soul as a keepsake.” Your breath is shaky as his touch takes over your body, so intense, so wrong but so right.

“I don’t just want your soul y/n. I want your heart, I want your touch, I want your love and your word that you will be mine.”

“You aren’t capable of feeling those things. you’re n-“

“Not human, I know. You’ve told me many times” his fingers brush along your thigh. “But when you have lived amongst humans and dealt with them for as long as I have, you begin to understand real emotions. I’m more human than you’ll ever know ”

His lips brush along your earlobe. “Let me show you”

He lays you down on the bed, hovering over you.

“No man on earth can give you what I can give you. I’ll take their souls if they tried. I can give you the world, the luxury of never having to worry about anything. A life of happiness, a life of freedom. If only you would let me have you”

He spoke so much about making things happen. He could make things happen with the click of his finger. And you wondered if he ever manipulated you in anyway. And why he hasn’t so far. If he really wanted you like he said he does, then why doesn’t he use his power to get you?

He spoke so softly in your ear, his voice like a blanket of silk. You don’t realise that you have yet again leaned in to him. Drawn in by his words, the way he spoke them so effortlessly and so passionately.

“You have me, I’m here right now” you give up your fight and give in to what your body craves.

Your eyes flutter close as you let yourself escape in everything that is him.

Just like when you were a child, you use your imagination to create your own little world. Just you and him for the moment.

You’re lost in his earthy scent. The night sky drawn around you like a blanket, protecting you. A sense of freedom as you seep into the darkness of the night that is him. But when you open your eyes you see more than just the darkness. You see the stars in the night. His eyes mimicking the galaxy as he watches you with so much want.

There in that moment is when you realised how powerful he was. How powerful his words were, his presence was. And his touch…

His touch that had your body reacting in ways you never knew it could.

His touch light, like a cool embrace of the wind.

Except your skin is like the sun, setting your skin on fire as his hands caress your body. You hate that your body reacts so easily to his touch. But over anything else, you hate how he knows your body when you don’t even know it yourself.

He knows just where to touch you, just where you crave another’s touch.

Just where to touch to have the hairs on your body stand up. Eager for more.

His face is in the crook of your neck lightly running his lips along the service, just before he litters small pecks to it. He smells you, breathes you in, humming in the process.

“I’m so full of everything I can have in life, and yet I still crave you”

You shiver when he pauses just by your earlobe.

“What are you doing to me my love?”

You both lock eyes for a second, the world stopping in the moment that is just yours. You don’t answer him. He seems elated with just watching you anyways.

“You’ll let me have you?”

You hold your breath, unsure of what to say. Yes because you want him to take you here right now, but you know how sneaky he can be, you’re afraid that your words would be used against you.

When you make no move to speak, he smirks against your skin and whispers, “Smart girl, I’ve taught you well.”

He takes no time in playing with the lace of your panties. You feel wetness stick to the fabric, something that started once he laid his fingers on you.

He’s always been good with his fingers. One night he played you a song on your guitar, his fingers moving effortlessly over the strings. In this very moment you feel like an instrument. The way his fingers work on you, you creating sounds so melodic you don’t even recognise yourself. The way he holds you so gently as one would with their instrument. You’re not afraid when you’re with him. There’s no need to be when he holds and touches you so gently.

His voice is almost a whisper when he speaks to you. His fingers working inside of you making your back arch and toes curl. Your fingers grab your sheet, mind going crazy because you know you shouldn’t be doing this. This is crazy and it’s not like you at all. And with him?

“You’re so stubborn. Why won’t you be mine? Look how your body is reacting to me. The moment I made myself present, your breathing changed rhythm and heart increased pace. You don’t think I know how you feel?”

You release a pathetic moan. A desperate one that has you cringing with embarrassment because of how needy you sound.

He leans in towards the crook of your neck with a low, “hmm?”

You look away. Too embarrassed and too in awe at the way he’s making you feel - making you act.

“Look at me”.

You find the courage to look at him. His fingers that work inside of you have your pussy creating sounds you never knew it could. You take deep breaths, slight frown on your face as your body’s taken over by the pleasure.

“You’re so wet for me. So needy.”

He continues to watch you with half-lidded eyes. Taking in the moment. Taking in everything that is you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into it.

You’ve given yourself to him in this moment - not entirely as he had hoped, but having his way with you in this point in time is more than enough.

He takes you there on your bed. The same place you would speak to him every night, dream of him every occasion.

He’s gentle, careful. His motions precise, enough to have your breath stuck in your throat.

Your mind has been lost in the darkness that is him. You don’t even want to find it.

He’s hovered over you, your legs wrapped around him. Kisses given with each thrust.

He speaks beautiful words to you, hand caressing your face every now and then.

And in this moment you’re sure you’re making love. Even though you know it can’t be because you both know nothing of the sort, but this is exactly how it feels like.

You reach a hand out to him, brushing back his dark stringy locks that fall in front of his face.

He kisses you with so much passion, speaks to you with words that has your heart aching for more.

In this moment you almost give him your word. Your life, your soul. Your head clouded by this intense emotion, a feeling that you can’t grasp. He’s taken you to a whole different universe, mind lost in everything that is him.

You almost give him your word, almost.

And when he brings you to your climax you sink deeper into him, into his embarace. Letting your body infuse with his.

You both lay there in silence for a while until he voices, “Even if you deny it. I’ve given you my word that I’ll stick by your side. There’s no getting rid of me”

You don’t need to ask him about what he means.

You know.

His fingers caress your skin as you close your eyes, letting his words fill the air.

“A soul as beautiful and pure as yours is a soul to wait a lifetime for. And I’ve got a lot of time”

And when you open your eyes, you’re met with nothing but the darkness of your room.

The God who answers after dark ☆

- mimi ☆

452 notes · View notes

book--brackets · 4 months ago

Text

The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien (1937)

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. Written for J.R.R. Tolkien’s own children, The Hobbit met with instant critical acclaim when it was first published in 1937. Now recognized as a timeless classic, this introduction to the hobbit Bilbo Baggins, the wizard Gandalf, Gollum, and the spectacular world of Middle-earth recounts of the adventures of a reluctant hero, a powerful and dangerous ring, and the cruel dragon Smaug the Magnificent.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan (2005-2009)

Percy Jackson is a good kid, but he can't seem to focus on his schoolwork or control his temper. And lately, being away at boarding school is only getting worse - Percy could have sworn his pre-algebra teacher turned into a monster and tried to kill him. When Percy's mom finds out, she knows it's time that he knew the truth about where he came from, and that he go to the one place he'll be safe.

She sends Percy to Camp Half Blood, a summer camp for demigods (on Long Island), where he learns that the father he never knew is Poseidon, God of the Sea. Soon a mystery unfolds and together with his friends—one a satyr and the other the demigod daughter of Athena - Percy sets out on a quest across the United States to reach the gates of the Underworld (located in a recording studio in Hollywood) and prevent a catastrophic war between the gods.

The Lord of the Rings by J. R. R. Tolkien (1954-1955)

In a sleepy village in the Shire, a young hobbit is entrusted with an immense task. He must make a perilous journey across Middle-earth to the Cracks of Doom, there to destroy the Ruling Ring of Power - the only thing that prevents the Dark Lord's evil dominion.

The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis (1950-1956)

Four adventurous siblings—Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensie— step through a wardrobe door and into the land of Narnia, a land frozen in eternal winter and enslaved by the power of the White Witch. But when almost all hope is lost, the return of the Great Lion, Aslan, signals a great change . . . and a great sacrifice.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery (1943)

The Little Prince is a classic tale of equal appeal to children and adults. On one level it is the story of an airman's discovery, in the desert, of a small boy from another planet - the Little Prince of the title - and his stories of intergalactic travel, while on the other hand it is a thought-provoking allegory of the human condition.

The Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini (2002-2011, 2023)

When fifteen-year-old Eragon finds a polished blue stone in the forest, he thinks it is the lucky discovery of a poor farm boy. But when the stone brings a dragon hatchling, Eragon soon realizes he has stumbled upon a legacy nearly as old as the Empire itself.

Overnight his simple life is shattered, and, gifted with only an ancient sword, a loyal dragon, and sage advice from an old storyteller, Eragon is soon swept into a dangerous tapestry of magic, glory, and power. Now his choices could save--or destroy--the Empire.

Time Quintet by Madeleine L'Engle (1962-1989)

It was a dark and stormy night; Meg Murry, her small brother Charles Wallace, and her mother had come down to the kitchen for a midnight snack when they were upset by the arrival of a most disturbing stranger.

Wild nights are my glory, the unearthly stranger told them. I just got caught in a downdraft and blown off course. Let me sit down for a moment, and then I'll be on my way. Speaking of ways, by the way, there is such a thing as a tesseract.

Folk of the Air by Holly Black (2018-2020)

Of course I want to be like them. They're beautiful as blades forged in some divine fire. They will live forever.

And Cardan is even more beautiful than the rest. I hate him more than all the others. I hate him so much that sometimes when I look at him, I can hardly breathe.

Jude was seven years old when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King.

To win a place at the Court, she must defy him--and face the consequences.

In doing so, she becomes embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, discovering her own capacity for bloodshed. But as civil war threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V. E. Schwab (2020)

France, 1714: In a moment of desperation, a young woman named Adeline meets a dangerous stranger and makes a terrible mistake.

As she realizes the limitations of her Faustian bargain-being able to live forever, without being able to be remembered by anyone she sees- Addie chooses to flee her small village, as everything she once held dear is torn away.

But there are still dreams to be had, and a life to live, and she is determined to find excitement and satisfaction in the wide, beckoning world-even if she will be doomed to be alone forever.

Or not quite alone-as every year, on her birth-day, the alluring Luc comes to visit, checking to see if she is ready to give up her soul. Their darkly thrilling game stretches through the ages, seeing Addie witness history and fight to regain herself as she crosses oceans and tries on various lives.

It will be three hundred years before she stumbles into a hidden bookstore and discovers someone who can remember her name-and suddenly, everything changes again.

Circe by Madeline Miller (2018)

the house of Helios, god of the sun and mightiest of the Titans, a daughter is born. But Circe is a strange child—not obviously powerful like her father, nor viciously alluring like her mother. Turning to the world of mortals for companionship, she discovers that she does possess power—the power of witchcraft, which can transform rivals into monsters and menace the gods themselves.

Threatened, Zeus banishes her to a deserted island, where she hones her occult craft, tames wild beasts, and crosses paths with many of the most famous figures in all of mythology, including the Minotaur; Daedalus and his doomed son, Icarus; the murderous Medea; and, of course, wily Odysseus.

But there is danger, too, for a woman who stands alone, and Circe unwittingly draws the wrath of both men and gods, ultimately finding herself pitted against one of the most terrifying and vengeful of the Olympians. To protect what she loves most, Circe must summon all her strength and choose, once and for all, whether she belongs with the gods she is born from or the mortals she has come to love.

#best fantasy book #poll #the hobbit #percy jackson #lord of the rings #the chronicles of narnia #the little prince #the inheritance cycle #time quintet #folk of the air #the invisible life of addie larue #circe

123 notes · View notes