#the unsafe wisp speaks

[marcsburnerphone]

wish I wasn't so hurt

Captain John price x f!reader

Summary:being johns’ wife has been full of security and safety and you never thought he’d be the one to taint that.

Warnings: angst,(hurt/comfort, 141 task force loves you, price is full of guilt, reader is struggling to process her feelings

Part two!! Find part one here - Part 1

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The cafe was quiet and warm when you entered, a few couples here and there were tucked away in booths chatting mindlessly. There was a dull ache spread throughout your chest and head from crying, ordering your coffee You couldn't help but notice the look of sympathy that sat on the barista's face.

You found a booth somewhere in the corner and dug your phone out of your purse and powered it on after having shut it off to stop the continuous buzzing it’d been doing in the car. To say the least it almost overheated and you couldn’t get to the silence button fast enough.

4 missed calls.

2 voicemails.

“I’m sorry.” 

“I’m so sorry, please forgive me.” 

“I have lost my mind, I know.” 

“Where are you my love?”

“Please just talk to me, or text either please.”

“I know I was wrong, it wasn’t my intention.” 

“Fuck em.” This one was from Simon and it made you giggle. 

A part of you wanted to message john and let him know you're okay to ease his mind, yet you didn’t instead you tucked your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. Maybe being this upset wasn't reasonable but the way he dismissed you with such harsh words intending to scare you, it was hard to get past.

Had you pushed too far? If you would have just left this could've been avoided, the anger that was spreading in your heart, the trouble of processing how to feel or move forward from this. To be fair John had never done anything to scare you or make you feel unsafe after all these years, even when he came home with blood still on his boots his eyes and voice were nothing but tender and loving. This is where you found trouble, how could he have changed so fast? How had he been so cold?

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Back on base he was suffering, his heart ached with shame and remorse. How could he speak to you in such a way? Often he fell victim to his anger but this time so did you. He checked his phone continuously since you left here and it’d become clear to him you'd stopped somewhere before going home. He just wished he knew where.

The bowl of food hadn't been picked up from where your shaking hands had left it, the thought itself made him nauseous. He was fearful for the first time in a long while, for someone with so much control the thought of you leaving had him ready to crumble to the floor and maybe that's what he deserves.

The Men that were usually rowdy and causing commotion had fallen silent in his presence as he went for a cup of tea in the common area.

Price didn’t understand the blessing he held in the palm of his hands, to find someone as loving and caring as you was a once in a lifetime thing especially with the career he possessed. Bloody hands that get to go home to welcoming warm ones, a soldiers’ wish.  

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You sat around trying to pinpoint where the confusion in how to feel was but hopelessly gave up and decided it was time to head home. The chilly air outside made you shiver on the way to your car. The drive home was draining, music filled the silence followed by the wisp of the heater. You'd sleep in the yard to avoid anything john if you weren't so scared of the dark. 

 As your car arrived on the familiar gravely ground to your home, a deep sigh escaped you. Clutching your keys you headed to the door and jumped at the voice that came through the camera thing. 

“Love please I’m sorry, where were you? I was worried?” The frantic yet somewhat calm voice of your husband came through. You thought of replying, yet you didn’t.

You walked inside, locking the door behind you and reset the alarm system. Your feet carried you mindlessly upstairs and to your bed, sleep came easy yet painfully that night but nevertheless any sleep was good sleep.

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John had never experienced your complete silence and couldn't take it. He decided he'd leave base early in the morning in hopes to resolve this with you, he wasn't even cleared to leave base but he couldn't really 100% be here if the idea of you hurting on your own was weighing on his mind.

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Back at home was exactly that, you were wrong, any sleep wasn’t good sleep, the bed that you’ve slept in many nights without John had somehow felt emptier. Your head was pounding from a lack of sleep and crying, you waited for the ibuprofen you'd taken to kick in and just laid silently in bed . After a while you became lost in thought and missed the sound of tires on gravel but the slam of the door snapped you out of it. 

Like a child you acted like you were sleeping instead of running out of bed into his arms like you normally would. His heavy boots climbed the stairs into your bedroom, you were sure he noticed your breathing pattern was one of an awake person but couldn’t find a reason to care.

“Darling.” He whispers and you feel the dent of his weight crease on the bed.

“I don’t want to see you right now John.” But you had wanted to see him, you were just scared this time you’d see him differently.

“Please, my love, talk to me.” It was a plea as his hand went to your thigh rubbing small circles into your soft skin.

“No.” Tears began to well in your eyes again, thankfully you chose to lay facing the window. 

At that he raised from where he was sitting and rounded the bed kneeling beside your head, it broke his heart to see your puffy eyes and fresh tears streaking your beautiful face. His hand raised to caress your face and you stubbornly pulled away.

Instead of that he placed his forehead on yours not minding the way his rickety knees would ache tomorrow. 

“You scared me.” You whispered, voice quivering with emotion. 

“I know, I’m so sorry. I’d never hurt you willingly a day in my life. I just- I don’t know what came over me.” He kissed your forehead and then the tears that he was causing. 

“No you don’t understand John.” You flipped your body the other way, suddenly feeling overwhelmed in his presence.

He wasn’t going to leave you too hurt although you wished he would. There was just enough room on the bed for him to lay beside you. He formed his body to yours holding you firmly.

 At this you sobbed, the weight of your cries was devastating, as his body shook with yours he pulled you tighter to him. 

“Your my wife and my equal I was beyond wrong I- I’m ashamed of my behavior you didn’t deserve that nor it will never happen again I promise i’ll never be the man that makes you hurt please forgive me.” he whispered into your hair soothing your erratic breathing back to somewhat stable.

“John.” you said between hiccups.

“Yes my darling.” he didn't like when you called him by his name but at least you were speaking to him.

“Im tired.” he was fucking hurting inside.

“Then sleep.” he nuzzled his nose deeper into the scent of your shampoo, you just nodded your head and let your eyes close, exhaustion showed no mercy as you immediately fell into a deep slumber.

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the love on part 1 was amazing thankyou all from the bottom of my heart.

feedback and reposts are deeply appreciated;)

There will be a part 3;)

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER IV - ustulation

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, blood, incision wound, fictive mafia clan traditions, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of death, overwhelming, violence, threats, intimate encounter, kissing

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 5,6K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III GAME OF GO CHAPTER V

ustulation (n.) a burning lust

In the hidden embrace of a secluded mountain valley, a village of hanoks stirred to life on a tranquil winter's morning. The air was crisp, a symphony of silence. The Song of the Dead toned down for some time.

The dawn’s gentle light bathed the valley, wisps of mist from the frost-kissed earth, adding an ethereal veil to the scenery she watched carefully from the closed window.

The majestic mountains, ancient pines and stoic rocks stood as sentinels of the valley's serenity. She could see them from this side of the house. Y/N sighed, holding a cup of tea in her two small hands, warming herself up on this chilly morning.

“Is something bothering you, my love?”

Yoongi had tried his hardest the past month to get under her skin. There were times when he thought perhaps, she would welcome him into her heart one day. However, her repeated escape attempts made him think otherwise. He was giving her the space she needed with carefulness in every action he took. The young leader knew well that she wouldn't be able to escape while they resided here, in the core of the village. That did not stop her though.

As if nature herself wished to bestow a gift upon him, the first snowflakes began to descend from the heavens just as they were returning from that unfortunate, eventful day in Seoul. The snowflakes floated gently, even now, like fragile dreams.

“Are you feeling well? You spent a lot of time in the snow yesterday.” He murmured after she didn’t grant him an answer to his previous question. They had to postpone the wedding as the snow and frost reigned, making it unsafe to pass through the tunnels. The passage was being cleared by workers for more than a week now. Time seemed to stand still as they absorbed the grace that enveloped their world.

“I feel fine,” she muttered back, not even looking his way at the table.

“I’ve been good to you, haven’t I?” He asked, demanding to speak to her.

“After all the stunts you pulled, you’re still free to roam around without anyone guarding you. Not speaking of the fact that I’m letting you sleep alone—” he was going on rumble.

The young leader is patient, but he longed for her more than ever. The fact that they’re still not newlyweds, and he cannot show love to every inch of her body, make her swell with his child, was frustrating him beyond repair. She had let her guard down once and allowed him to take the chance and kiss her on the cheek, startling her yet again.

“—you’re so blinded,” she said suddenly, turning back to face him.

“Excuse me?” said he, very surprised.

“You go on about how you’re good to me, how this is God’s doing, and that I should be grateful—” she threw her hands in the air, frustrated by his demanding nature.

While the leader thought he was granting her the time she needed, Y/N felt more and more anxious every day. Her heart is still itching to be free, yet she cannot stop thinking about what her selfishness would cause if she indeed managed to escape.

“Well maybe if you didn’t run every time, I tried to show you affection, I wouldn't have to remind you of all this.” He spat angrily, smashing the chopsticks on the table, standing up.

“I’m patient—” said he, getting closer to her standing form by the large windows. “—but I swear to God, you’ll disobey me again, and that’s where my hospitality ends, Y/N.”

“I just—” she stammered, making him stop in his attempt to close the distance between them. “I’m scared,” she whimpered. Y/N didn’t know why these words came out of her, nor why there were tears. All she felt was exhaustion.

The scarred leader’s expression softened. Is she finally confiding herself to him, opening up?

“My love…” He approached her, taking the cup from her shaking hands, putting it aside and lastly taking her face into his hands, his thumbs wiping her tears away.

“I can make you happy. You just have to let me in.” He whispered, moving his face closer to hers. Y/N knows they will cross the boundary sooner or later. The winter is making it impossible for her to both run away and survive. Should Y/N listen to her mother’s words and let him make her his queen? The older female’s proclamation circled her mind at night while listening to the cracking of wood in the fireplace.

“Please let me in, dove.” He pleaded again, his eyes filled with sincerity and longing.

And once she nodded her head in approval, he didn’t hesitate to press his lips softly against hers. Time stood still, and the world around them faded into a blur of insignificance. Their hearts pounded in sync for a brief moment. She felt a warmth she couldn't admit, even to herself. Y/N wanted to hate him so much. Despite her inner conflict, she could sense the unspoken longings from his side, his desire to deepen the kiss carefully without overwhelming her. He wished to never let her go and feared that she would vanish in his hold. His lips were tender and tentative, like the brush of a butterfly's wings upon a fragile petal. Y/N knows he is holding himself back. The kiss was addictive, momentarily lifting the burden from her chest.

As he went to slide his hands on the swell of her heart-shaped bottom, a sudden cough interrupted the intimate moment. Y/N quickly pulled away, feeling shame and embarrassment wash over her caused by the sudden intrusion. She stole a single glance at the man standing by the door, grinning mischievously. Her cheeks turned crimson as she felt shy and exposed, but the young leader kept holding her in his embrace, not letting her go so soon after their first shared kiss.

Smiling like a teenager, he said: “What’s going on Hoseok-shi.” Y/N could imagine he is smiling widely as she had observed when she apologised to him for hitting his head with the stone. He waved it off quickly stating ‘I would be a fool to not forgive my new sister.’ She pretended not to be affected by his words, but it made the man she was to marry smile even more mischievously.

“I need to speak to you, and Y/N should get ready for Hyung’s wedding,” Hoseok said, his eyes gleaming with some secret knowledge.

Y/N exchanged a puzzled glance with Hoseok before nodding and extracting herself from the young leader's embrace, her cheeks still flushed from the kiss. Uncertainty hung in the air as Yoongi let Y/N go and walk away, admiring her graceful figure.

“What?” Yoongi asked, turning his attention to his trusted friend, who wore a smirk that hinted at hidden amusement.

“Nothing,” Hoseok replied, still smiling under his nose.

“Shall we?” Yoongi said, collecting himself and walking towards his brother.

“You won’t fancy what news I bring, brother.”

Silk banners fluttered in the breeze, announcing the joyous union to all who ventured near. The bride, a vision of grace and elegance, is adorned in a hanbok of flowing silk and intricate embroidery.

The groom, dressed in the timeless attire of a traditional hanbok, stood tall and resolute. His eyes fixed unwaveringly upon his beloved, as though she embodied the very essence of his being — a force that fuelled his heart.

Amidst the enchanting spectacle of celebration, the weight of tradition resonated with each uttered word.

The outside picture portrayed the unbreakable bonds of family and the beauty of two souls finding solace in one another. Y/N, however, couldn’t help but have a feeling that the poor girl the doctor was marrying did not find herself at the altar because of true love but fearful coercion. It reminded her of her circumstances — a pawn in a larger scheme.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow upon the snow-covered land, Y/N sat beside her to-be husband, observing his unusual joy. Accordingly. Today, one of his brothers was finally taking a wife and his bride in a momentary vulnerability that had allowed him to share a tender kiss with her, amplifying his joy to an even greater extent.

Her ears perked up once she heard the celebration of the union before her. She couldn't resist side-eyeing the other brothers she had encountered over the past month, and her gaze locked with Kim Namjoon, Kkangpae’s right-hand man.

Y/N remembers Kim Namjoon. His piercing, cold gaze bore into her soul, especially so during one of her escape attempts, when he forcefully brought her back to the main house, reprimanding her for disobedience.

‘I can either give up my life to save you or I can be your enemy Y/N.’ Namjoon had warned her on a night when she sought solace near the fireplace in Yoongi's office, wrapped in blankets to warm herself even more. She was rarely allowed in this sacred room unless her actions demanded attention.

That night, Yoongi was dealing with business matters. He came back to the main house to her shivering and crying form. It is breaking his heart every time he sees her in such a state but simultaneously, he wishes she would cross the border of submissiveness and obey him.

Y/N ignored his warning just yesterday when she attempted to run away again. Hence, the gaze. If she was afraid of his next steps, she wouldn’t let him decipher that.

She snapped out of her mind as Yoongi rose from his seat, taking her hand to help her up. Y/N looked at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. He gently nudged her behind him, positioning himself as a protective shield. She looked around her, seeing that everyone else was still seated. Their looks show emotions —excitement, joy, and pride.

Her confusion heightened when Yoongi began unbuttoning her fur coat that was hiding her long red qipao, and panic swelled within her.

"What are you doing?!” She whispered in distress.

“Behave.” He whispered back to her, leaving the coat open revealing her breasts and tummy.

Leaving her standing close to him, he held her hand tightly, as if afraid she might flee at any moment. Y/N noticed that Namjoon's attention had shifted to Seokjin's new bride. The bride's trembling form approached them, and Y/N observed the gleaming knife in Seokjin's hand, quickly realizing what was about to happen.

It whispered promises of power, of secrets that could be revealed with a single stroke, but it also carried the weight of consequences and a toll on the bearer's conscience. As the girl's hand was carefully sliced with the knife, Y/N couldn't help but empathize with her pain. Her father had a similar tradition; however, women weren’t involved; she was still left in the dark about her role in all this.

The girl then knelt, extending her bloodied hand toward the leader, reciting her pledge of loyalty to Kkangpae Min. Yoongi covered her hand with his other one, acknowledging her devotion and signaling for her to continue with the moving tradition.

The leader then used his left hand to guide Y/N forward, leaving her yet again puzzled and bewildered. A moment later, she gasped with shock as she felt the girl's bloodied hand touch her lower belly. Yoongi held her firmly in place, preventing any instinctual step back.

"I, with my blood, pledge my loyalty to you, Min Buin. Blessed be the fruit of your future legacy, Kkangpae Min," the girl recited, her words carrying both reverence and a touch of melancholy. The significance of the moment and the responsibility it bestowed upon Y/N left her grappling with a maelstrom of emotions.

“Well you handled that well,” a voice came from behind her, and Y/N turned to find Namjoon standing there, watching her by the fireplace in Yoongi's office. She had been curious when he would approach her, knowing that Yoongi had gone to check if the tunnels were passable.

Y/N couldn't quite discern the tone of Namjoon's remark—whether it held irony or genuine praise. Such was the enigmatic nature of this man.

“I suppose,” she muttered, hugging herself for comfort.

“I personally thought you’d slap her hand off. Such an act would undoubtedly stir up trouble,” said he as he settled down in one of the armchairs.

Her mind replayed the events of the pledge, and she confessed truthfully, “I was too shocked to do so.” The new bride's pledge of loyalty to her and her empty womb had caught her off guard, leaving her uneasy.

“Your father is not demanding newcomers to pledge loyalty?” He asked, curious about their inner circle practices. She smirked, sensing his attempt to pry.

“Yes, but not to my mother,” she revealed.

“You hold an important position within our ranks,” the right-hand man noted. “And that, my dear, is why we are having this little conversation.” Y/N looked up, finding him extending a glass filled with what she presumed to be rice wine or soju.

“I genuinely want to be your friend Y/N—” he said while passing the glass to her. “But you’re very hard to please, princess,” he exclaimed.

“By ‘wanting to be my friend’, you mean the part when you threaten me again,” she retorted with a scoff, alluding to his past warnings.

“That is a necessary evil,” he conceded. “But on a serious note, Y/N,” he drew closer, taking a seat slightly further away to grant her personal space, “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” she asked, feeling dumbfounded by his question.

"Is life here truly so terrible that all you can think of is escape?" he sighed, genuinely curious about her state of mind.

“Not all I can think of—” she began, trying to defend herself.

"Oh, so you did not attempt to escape just a day ago, and two days before that, and so on," he interjected, pointing out her recent attempts.

“What do you want to hear from me Namjoon?” she countered, feeling the pressure of his questioning.

“Hoseok hyung overheard your conversation,” he finally gave away the one piece of information he sought to address “What are you afraid of?”

Y/N gazed into the dancing flames, his words echoing in her mind. Memories of the recent kiss with Yoongi and the ensuing events flooded her thoughts. She felt her spirit on the brink of collapse, her attempts to escape repeatedly thwarted, causing harm to others in the process. Y/N was exhausted.

“I suppose I expected my life to take a different trajectory than this,” she admitted, reflecting on her circumstances.

“I can assure you that this will be the best that ever happened to you—” Namjoon insisted, trying to be reassuring.

“And that, Namjoon, is where my disbelief lies,” she interrupted him, peering straight into his eyes. He sighed, running a hand across his face, expressing a sense of frustration mixed with genuine concern.

“You didn’t give it a chance!” He raised his voice, unable to hide his emotions. He wanted this clan to function as it did for countless years and what’s more, he wanted his hyung to be happy.

“I’m going to ask you once again, and I want the truth,” he implored, trying to get to the heart of the matter. “What are you so scared of?”

Y/N decided to remain silent, knowing that her response would likely incite further frustration from him. "Is it sex?" he suddenly asked, shocking her with his explicitness. "Are you scared to be punished for your sins?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” she returned his rage, denying his accusation.

“Am I?” he continued probing.

“Yes, Namjoon! You are! You think I’m this shallow?!” she lashed out.

“No, but all you let us see is the shallow version of you. Apart from this morning,” he declared, referring to a rare moment of vulnerability she had shown.

“And it wasn’t meant for anybody to hear nor see that,” she snapped back at him.

“I understand your reasoning, Y/N. But we’re your family now, you don’t have to shield yourself against us,” he pleaded, hoping to break down her walls.

“He loves you, Y/N,” Namjoon continued, trying to make her see the sincerity in Yoongi's feelings.

“That’s very hard to believe too.” She remarked, still sceptical, looking right through his eyes. He took a deep breath, lifting his hand to touch his face.

“Alright, let’s make a deal,” he proposed, catching her by surprise and piquing her interest.

“About?” She asked, curiously.

“Give it a year,” said the right-hand man. By making a deal with her, he is going behind the back of his leader and, even more importantly — his dearest friend. Nevertheless, he felt obligated to do this for him.

"If you're still 'scared' of whatever you say you are, and this is not the life you'll be comfortable living, I'll personally see to it that you'll be transported to America," he promised, leaving her momentarily speechless.

“What is the catch?” Y/N wasn't naive. She knew there must be some ulterior motive.

"You'll stop being a flight risk. If you attempt to run again, the deal is off, and I will personally eliminate each person foolish enough to aid you since your arrival—one by one, ending with your cousin," he stated, laying out the condition.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she absorbed his chilling words. Her mind raced as she contemplated her choices. "That's the only condition?" she asked, ensuring she understood the terms before giving her answer.

"Well, naturally, I expect you to genuinely give it a chance, meaning that you will accept Hyung as your husband, leader, and lover," he emphasized the last noun, urging her to take his words seriously. Y/N stopped for a moment to collect her thoughts together.

“This is a one time offer Y/N. I won’t be this generous again,” he added. She struggled to read him, but she couldn’t. Namjoon was well known for being unpredictable — a quality that made him a perfect fit as the right-hand man. No one could ever say with certainty what his next move would be.

“Fine,” she finally relented, her voice barely a whisper. Namjoon extended his hand, sealing the deal with a firm shake. He leaned in closer to Y/N.

“I trust that you’ll be on your best behaviour from now on.” He whispered to her. There were so many emotions in her eyes right now that she was working hard to process. She barely nodded and averted her gaze down. Y/N couldn’t bear to look into his intimidating eyes no more.

“Very well,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on her. “The tunnels have been cleared, and the wedding will take place this week." He told her.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the impending wedding. She was praying that perhaps she has more time to think of what to do with her situation. According to Seokjin, who came to visit and spent some time on occasion with her when his leader could not, the tunnels wouldn’t be cleared out until the end of December, giving her another month in total.

“Brother!” exclaimed Namjoon suddenly, breaking her train of thought. Y/N followed his gaze to the sliding door, where Yoongi stood, undoing the cufflinks of his shirt, the suit jacket already gone. "I was just telling Y/N the good news," Namjoon smiled at him.

Throughout this month, Y/N observed the strong brotherhood among Yoongi's most trusted and closest men. The deepest connection Yoongi shared was undoubtedly with Namjoon, which explained why he was the right-hand man.

Yoongi displayed a particularly protective nature towards his younger brothers. She had yet to meet Jungkook, the youngest, who had been recently assigned as captain of the front unit, as she overheard. On the other hand, Jimin was more involved in the open, managing the front business and whatever lay beneath it. The Chosen Hotel was highly popular among Koreans but was eagerly open to international guests too. Y/N suspected that the true core of the business was settled elsewhere, and she was eager to uncover it.

Seokjin, recently married, primarily served as the inner family's doctor. However, the Min clan also faced a shortage of actual medical staff like, so he had to run between the sanctuary, as she had learnt this place was called, and a front hospital.

Taehyung remained a mystery to her, despite seeing him in family pictures and hearing Yoongi mention him occasionally. He was supposed to represent the law in Yoongi's business dealings, ensuring the safety and legitimacy of their operations, including the handling of illegal earnings. Therefore, Taehyung is the safety pin of this organization. Whomever fucks up, he is there to defend them.

And lastly, Hoseok, a surprising contrast of joy and darkness. Y/N was taken aback that such a buoyant personality could be involved in such sinister activities. He was the arsonist who also took care of assassinations. Additionally, the clan engaged in money laundering, and Hoseok was responsible for collecting debts, often involuntarily.

Her eyes swelled with tears she was refusing to let out. Yoongi’s eyes met Y/N's, and she could see a mixture of concern and worry flicker across his face. A silent understanding passed between them, and they knew that they would need to have a private conversation later.

“Well, it seems you two need more privacy,” said Namjoon while he was collecting himself from the cushion he was sitting on.

“Did Tae call?” Yoongi asked before Namjoon could leave. “He did before Hyung’s wedding, to send his good wishes and—” he gazed over to Y/N who was carefully listening to their conversation, hanging on every word.

“—and?” Yoongi asked as he unbuttoned his shirt, a sight she had seen far too often for her liking. He was not shy with her; he could easily undress before her without a second thought. His attempts to walk in on her while she was changing didn't go unnoticed either, though she made sure to show her displeasure by throwing vases at him to keep him out.

Only now did Y/N remember the glass of alcoholic beverage that Namjoon had offered her, remaining untouched in her hands. She decided to take a sip, trying to ease her nerves before the conversation she was dreading.

“—and everything went well, as expected,” said Namjoon observing her as she downed the burning soju.

“Send telegraph to Wang and other families. We’re leaving for Chosen in two hours.” Y/N straightened herself, eyes wide open in disbelief.

“W-what do you mean in two hours?” She stammered. It was just past eight when she gazed at the clock on the wall. That would mean they'd depart at ten and arrive in Seoul around midnight.

"—I thought they just cleared the way. Why are we—" Yoongi cut her off abruptly. "I am waiting no more," he said firmly, locking his gaze with hers, leaving her in shock once again.

"On your way, please inform the maids to pack, and I want the cabin ready," Yoongi instructed Namjoon, who memorised every task with a sense of responsibility, seemingly disregarding Y/N's shattered spirit in the wake of this sudden rush.

“Can we at least talk about it?!” she raised her voice, causing the two men to stop in their tracks. They exchanged knowing looks, making it clear that this was non-negotiable. Yoongi clicked his tongue, biting his cheeks from inside, then turned to face his fiancée with a deceptive sweetness in his tone.

"Of course, my love," he said.

He nodded to Namjoon, who immediately took off, glancing at Y/N with a silent reminder to behave.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked nonchalantly as if this were a perfectly normal scenario.

“I don’t know, do you think this is right?” Y/N kept her tone tense, signalling her discontent.

“Nothing is more right than this,” he answered, pouring himself a drink while taking her empty glass and refilling it with soju.

"Yoongi—" she began to protest, but he didn't let her speak further, having heard her excuses countless times.

“No Y/N. I’m not negotiating this time. We’re getting married tomorrow afternoon and that’s final,” he stated sternly.

"You could at least wait a day! Do you think everyone will just jump because you said it's happening right now? And more importantly, let me mentally prepare for it?!” Her frustration grew, and she gestured wildly, almost knocking over the refilled glass that Yoongi handed her.

“They are already in town. The telegraph is just a confirmation that it will happen tomorrow.” Her distress and panic were understandable; she had believed she had more time than a few hours.

“And you didn’t think of telling me first?!” she raised her voice even higher. That she was in distress and panic was very understandable. Y/N thought she had more time than a few hours.

“No, because you were finally letting me in—” said he, downing the contents of his glass in one go.

“You knew this would happen for a month, and you would have had more time to prepare yourself if running away fifteen hundred times a day wouldn’t be on your mind,” he fired back, raising his voice at her, and immediately asserting dominance.

"I'm getting very tired of this. One step forward and ten million miles back, damn it!" he cursed, slamming the glass down on his desk in frustration. The tension in the room was palpable, and Y/N felt her heart sinking as she realized that her hopes of a slower pace for their relationship had been shattered.

“I have a very easy solution to that—” she said, raising herself to stand up to him.

“—Let me go,” she emphasized every single word, her frustration boiling over, and momentarily forgetting about her deal with Namjoon.

Her emotions were running high, and she went to pull the ring off to prove her point, but he forcefully grabbed her right hand, stopping her in her tracks. Anger filled his eyes as he crossed his other hand, grabbed her by the back of her neck, and crashed his lips onto hers, pressing their bodies against the nearest wall. He didn't give her a chance to catch her breath as he passionately bruised her lips.

He let go of her hand once he was sure she wouldn't resist. With his now free hand, he lifted her leg, wrapping it around his waist, squeezing her ass cheek, making her yelp and by that creating an opening to slip his tongue into her mouth. Y/N had no idea how long their intimate encounter lasted, but she could feel her head spinning from the lack of oxygen. Just as she managed to stop his other hand from slipping under her dress, aiming for her pulsing heat, he parted from her, both of them breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away,” he apologised, his eyes fixed on her now swollen lips. Y/N was taken aback, her head still spinning, and she couldn't think straight. He had such a powerful effect on her, and this aspect of life was entirely new to her, having been kept away from such experiences.

"I wish, —" he started, nibbling at her lower lip while he continued to speak, "—you would acknowledge my love for you." Yoongi kissed her again, not giving her a chance to recover or speak up, moaning softly into her lips.

"We are too close. I will never give you up.” he declared, wiping her tears away gently.

“I can’t have you running though—” he leaned into lavish attention on her neck, placing butterfly kisses up to her jaw and stopping at her lips again—

"I'll overlook this lapse of senses if you keep up this good behaviour, my love, but the next time you disobey me, I won't only discipline you; someone will lose their head.”

She trembled against him, feeling lost, scared, and vulnerable. Her breath hitched as she tried to speak up. Yoongi was beyond himself for getting her into this state where she didn’t dare to oppose his words and stopped fighting him. If she won’t let him in willingly, he will force her to open up to him.

“I told you to not take that ring off your finger ever again.” She remembers the words he uttered to her in the garden where he proposed to her. That she agreed still feels surreal to her. Running got her nowhere, but she still had a selfish feeling inside her that he was bluffing and wouldn’t dare to seriously hurt anybody.

“Now be a good girl and apologise for disobeying me.” He tightened his grip at her waist, finally staring right into her teary eyes. Y/N felt lost, scared and vulnerable. Her lips were trembling, and her breath hitched again once she opened her mouth to speak.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby, just say it.” He cooed, lifting his hand to caress her cheek gently.

“I-I am sorry,” she finally sobbed. If there was one thing the scarred boy excelled at, it was getting his way. He smiled at her, pleased with her response.

He smiled at her. “That’s more like it, baby.”

Y/N longed to curl up in her small apartment, where she resided while studying at college. She desperately wished she could turn back time.

“I have something for you,” he said suddenly, looking for any sign of curiosity from her. Yoongi stepped away to his desk, leaving her pressed against the wall, hesitant to move an inch. He opened one of his drawers and pulled out an envelope. Y/N couldn't make out the handwriting, but her eyes widened as she recognised it.

“Your aunt entrusted me with this letter when we came to the conclusion that you should be mine one day,” he said, holding the envelope in his hands. Y/N desperately wished that the answer and a solution to her fears would be contained in that envelope. She was mulling over the platform of this match-making her aunt orchestrated.

Wang Xiaoqing very much upheld the meaning of her name in the time she lived. Blessed with intelligence. And she was a fearless mafia wife who brought pride to her late husband. There are other intriguing things about Y/N’s beloved auntie. Xiaoqing is by far the only member in her large family tree that married for love. Y/N admired her aunt and, perhaps, seeing that it was possible to marry for love, made her blindly believe she could also have the freedom to choose her partner.

She dreamt of a little house in the woods, not far from a lake or a small town. Growing some goods in the garden, by night sitting near the fireplace, the love of her life holding her. She would work in a nearby hospital, or study overseas to become a doctor were all part of her fever dream. She knew it was unlikely to come true, given her family's ties to the syndicate.

But she could least dream about it. For a moment, when she was on the ferry to Jeju Island, she thought she would make it. Y/N knew the risk she was taking once she entrusted her well-being to Chan-yeol. She knew his role was insignificant and not a threat to any syndicate and it wouldn’t certainly attract Yakuza, but she was also aware that he could have been the only one to send her to the far land. She believed that God chose this path for her instead of being an arm jewel to some Yakuza brute.

Reality snapped her back from her swirling thoughts as he put the envelope back in the drawer.

“W-what are you doing?” she asked, taking a step forward.

“I will give it to you—” he promised “and tell you everything you want to know—” locking the drawer with a key.

“—After you’ll walk the aisle to me, without any of your misfits,” he finished his sentence.

"To strengthen your cooperation for tomorrow, I'm having your cousin and her husband at gunpoint during the ceremony," he added, making her scream in protest.

"I won't do anything stupid," she pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Just let them be, please. They have little son, Yoongi.”

“I know, that’s why they are the perfect bargain to make you obedient. If this doesn't work, you still have other family members—," Y/N couldn't bear it any longer; she closed the distance between them, standing just inches away from him.

“If you would love me—” she started but before she could finish, he grabbed her waist and pulled her even closer, pressing his body against hers. She could feel his torso and lower body. He bowed down next to her ear.

“I’ll stop this necessary coercion when you’ll learn your place, my love.”

Yoongi loved making her squirm and overwhelm her. He was basking in the effect he had on her. The fact that she will be his wife in less than twelve hours was a source of satisfaction for him.

“You were my woman for a long time now, and you will be my woman till death do us apart.”

I N T E R L O G U E

“—And you’re certain that the man is on his way to Seoul.” The leader inquired of his trusted friend and partner, seated in the quiet confines of his home office.

“Yes,” Hoseok affirmed with a nod.

"Is there any additional information that I need to be aware of?” Yoongi's voice carried a hint of tension, his teeth gritted in anger.

"As of now, there's nothing more to report," the younger male replied, keeping the conversation concise.

“Do you want me to eliminate him?” Hoseok offered, waiting for his leader's command.

“Not just yet, I was hoping to have the pleasure myself.”

to be continued

author’s note: so here we are at chapter IV!! ♥ Thank you all so much for for sticking around chummers ♥ They kissed and much moreee!!! We'll see what we'll happen next. I hereby promise to post the chapter sooner than the end of Semptember, or I hope so xD Tho I have some wips to write and if I'll finish some then I'll post something new too ♥

Massive shout-out to Bex, the queen @chaoticpuff17, for beta another chapter!

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not an expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @beautifulcloudfestival - @chaoticpuff17 - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss @secfir @btspurplesky @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin

[wordswithaven]

Aberration or rarity?

there is a beehive in my chest,

a fluttery of letters, words and phrases in my head,

drums repeating the sentence to be said,

but my mouth won’t obey.

...

im a silent observer to the world,

it moves around me,

i can see it,

i can touch it,

i can hear it,

i can smell it,

i can perceive it,

but do others see me?

am i a ghost?

a figment of their imagination? or mine?

...

im in a vacuum

i could scream

i could whisper

the void pulling away the air is all the same

...

or

...

perhaps i am the vacuum,

harbourer of unspoken thoughts,

treasurer of secrets,

archive of observations,

...

my mask is in the closet,

i am fragile, exposed,

unsafe,

in danger or dangerous,

maybe both.

...

no one can read me:

i seem numb, a corpse, a ghost

but i am alive, so alive

i am buzzing,

my inner world more vivid, more complex, more real than this one can ever hope to be.

...

incongruent, distorted, a quintessential contradiction

i am an enigma in this world

my mind holds many mysteries and secrets of theirs,

memories of a visitor, a silent observer, hidden in plain sight, forgotten at times

but perhaps the greatest mystery is not the ones i remember but the one I am.

...

maybe i am

a shell

a mask

a wisp of smoke

a ghost

an alien

a danger to be eradicated

a square that still needs to be made a circle.

...

maybe, maybe not,

perhaps instead i am

a constellation

a marvel

a rarity

a sparkle

a light

a whalien of hertz 52

beautiful just like them.

...

if they are the milky way then i am NGC 1519,

simply orbiting around them,

at first thought to be close,

now calculated to be further than thought,

but still here i am

i continue orbiting,

observing,

and now I guess,

being observed too,

not many people know about dwarf galaxies but we exist,

and we will continue to exist for as long as gravity holds true,

not even dark energy can pull us away so why should you?

...

i am still a child,

a child who cannot speak,

sometimes I can,

sometimes I can’t,

right now the latter is true.

...

i will keep growing,

and soon i will be an adult,

the neurons in my brain will still be connected the same way,

firing energy the same way,

my code, my synapses, my pathways they’re different from yours,

i am more powerful in ways,

weaker in others.

...

but i am still whole,

whether i can utter words or not,

whether i need routine or not,

whether i can read your body language or not,

whether i express emotions or not,

whether i stim or not,

...

i am a whole person,

and i am different,

and i belong in this world just as much as you.

[notsafeforwisps]

1- Werehogs. 2- any release date on those stories

And I should have a short drabble+sketch combo coming out today or tomorrow! Very sorry for the wait on this response, and on the fics! I've had no time and energy to edit shit recently, urgh.

Also, another reason I've been lagging behind is because, like, I know how indulgent all of my works are and I never feel like I have a good read on what people want from me here. All of my fic ideas are feedism related (because I suck) and I don't know how interested people are in that kind of repetition. If y'all have other drabble ideas that could be knocked out in under 10k words or know a good nsfw drabble prompt list (or doodle prompt list, because ik all my doodles are super repetitive too :') ) let me know.

[smilesrobotlover]

Ok no one actually asked for this but I really want to share the first part. I hope that it’ll help me with the other parts idk. The main emphasis is on Wind and Four (mostly Wind.) TW for kidnapping mention and kidnapping

The small group of heroes trekked through the dense forest, snapping twigs they stepped on, moving the branches that hung in their way, and chatting to pass the time. It’s been a while since they’ve seen monsters, so they were getting very bored of the lack of action. It took hours for them to spot anything that wasn’t part of the forest, but they all sighed with relief when they spotted something not forestry and very man-made: a bustling town. People rushed around trying to complete their errands before the sun went down, kids played their ball games, and shopkeepers were getting plenty of business. It was a big town with buildings lined up neatly, making little alleyways. Tucked away near the edge of the town was a beautiful courtyard with a fountain spewing out in the center and several birds bathing in the water. It was a charming, lively place, but the group sensed that something was amiss.

They started asking around if anyone has seen monsters, if they know about the hero of the legends, and so on… but this seemingly carefree place did not know of such things. The old man figured that since there were no monsters to hunt down, they’d relax and then move on with their journey. The group spent their time getting food, looking for supplies, and looking at the fun trinkets at the various shops scattered around town. A large portion of them checked out the bizarre toys on display in one particular shop. The shop owner was a man with light blonde hair, he had a long nose and his small, dark eyes watched the group suspiciously.

“Why is that doll so creepy looking?” Warriors shuddered at the sight of a doll with only eyes and a vague nose, with wisps of hair on its head.

The boys immediately turned to the creepy doll and grew interested in it. Four had the courage to grab it.

“Woah woah, what are you doing?” Warriors asked, backing away with his hands up.

“I’m just looking, I think it’s rather handsome,” he said, holding the doll close to him.

“Well put it back. It might be cursed or something.”

Four stared at the doll silently, and with a mischievous grin, he got closer to Warriors holding the creepy doll up.

“Smith- don’t you dare- get thing away from me!”

Four began chasing the captain around the shop, causing a bit of a mess, while the others looked at more toys. Twilight observed a metallic figure, built with various metals. It looked like it resembled a horse.

“That’s pretty sharp… and unsafe,” he pointed out, poking at it cautiously.

“I think it’s fun! Great for kids! Right Wind?” Wild said sarcastically, receiving a glare from the sailor. The sailor went back to staring at a wall of animal plushies. There were horses, dogs, cats, seagulls, and whales. The seagull caught his eye.

“You guys think I should get this for my sister?” He asked, turning around and holding it up for the others to see. “She loves seagulls, and seagulls love her.”

The others crowded around him, speaking their opinions while Warriors and Four got kicked out for rough housing in the background. Wind bought the seagull plush and they all left the toy shop, ready to regroup and continue with their travels. Wind couldn’t help but love this place. It was so bright and alive. Everyone was anxious to get to places faster, occasionally running into them, people simply sat and chatted on benches or by the edge of the town, it reminded him of Windfall Island in a way. Wind looked around as they met in the center of the courtyard by the fountain, which was surprisingly empty compared to the rest of the town. It added to the uneasiness that Wind felt underneath the bright lives these people led. While they waited, The little group messed around in the water, splashing it at each other, with Sky gushing about the tiny birds. Wind caught eyes with a boy- around 10 at most- wandering around the courtyard alone. He smiled when the boy stared back at him and did a friendly wave. The boy gave a shy wave back.

“Are you boys ready to go?”

Wind looked up and saw Time, Hyrule, and Legend walking towards the other group. Hyrule was quickly shoving potions in his sack and Legend sat down, massaging his legs. The old man crossed his arms and eyed the seagull Wind held.

“Did you get yourself a friend?” He asked.

Wind blushed a little and held the seagull close to his chest. “It’s for my sister. I thought that I’d send it to her in the mail… since… you know… the mail service is surprisingly good across dimensions…”

Time let out a hearty chuckle.

“That is very sweet of you, young sailor. Did anyone else get something?”

Four sat up and crossed his arms with a huff. “I was going to buy a doll, but Warriors wouldn’t let me!”

“Ok, first of all, it was creepy, second of all, you wouldn’t stop shoving it in my face!”

The group laughed at the captain as he argued with Four.

“Alright, let’s get going the-”

Time was interrupted by a woman screaming.

“Joel! What in Din’s name are you doing here alone?”

The little boy Wind saw earlier spun around and looked at his mother with guilt.

“S-sorry I was just playing…” He stuttered, but the woman waved his excuse away and grabbed his hand.

“You know you’re not supposed to be near the fountain by yourself! You’re lucky it’s still daytime, otherwise you would���ve been taken like the other kids!”

The group watched as the woman dragged the boy away. She turned back for a moment to glare at the mysterious group of travelers, before leaving the courtyard. The group looked at each other in confusion.

“What was that about?” Sky finally said. “What did that lady mean by ‘taken like the other kids?’”

“I dunno,” Twilight stood up and looked at the fountain in concern, “I feel like we should move away from the fountain…”

The group shuffled away from the beautiful yet somehow dangerous fountain and did a group huddle.

“I guess my instinct was right,” Time started, “have you boys sensed something weird going on in this town?”

“Yeah,” Hyrule jumped in, “It’s like a normal town but�� I don’t know… everyone seemed like they were on edge…”

Wind nodded as they were talking, so they noticed it too. The strange anxiety everyone seemed to struggle with in this place. What was going on?

Sky petted the little bird that flew on his shoulders and frowned. “She mentioned other kids, you think there’s some… fountain monster kidnapping them? Is that why no one is ever by the fountain?”

“It’s a good theory, but we’ll never know unless we ask these people about it,” Legend said.

“Yes, and there’s one person who can give us the most information,” Four waved his finger around, everyone understanding who they needed to talk to. “The mayor.”

—----------------------------------------------

The group of 9 took up a lot of room in the mayor’s waiting room. A poor resident stared at the strange group as discreetly as possible, trying to focus on the book he was reading. Occasionally Warriors would look over at the nervous man and give him a casual nod, making the man more nervous about them. Finally, the mayor came out of his office and was shocked at the large group taking up the space in his waiting room.

“Oh my,” he started, fixing his wrinkled clothes. He looked at a piece of parchment, “which one of you is… Link?”

Everyone in the group raised their hands and shuffled into the mayor’s office. The mayor shook his head and closed the door behind him. He was a tall, middle aged man with brown hair kept close to his head and a goatee on his chin. He wore nicer clothes than everyone else in the town, yet he fit in well. He had kind eyes, but underneath was noticeable distress.

“Well then,” the mayor started, “Link…”

The boys looked around and Sky volunteered himself. The mayor nodded at him and sat down at his desk.

“You wanted to meet with me?” He asked, pulling out a pen and paper.

“Uh, yes… We’re visiting and… well… we were curious about the fountain in the courtyard?” Sky asked.

The mayor stared at them with no expression, as if he hesitated to explain. “The fountain was one of the first things built in this town. My great-great-great grandfather saw to it that it was built and also helped build this place. The different markings were inspired by the intricate designs of the zora, it is even said that the zora helped build it. Lake Hylia feeds it water, and the kids enjoy playing in that water. It’s what makes the courtyard a lovely place.”

Sky nodded, “Yes, it is a very lovely fountain and this is a very lovely town.”

“Thank you.”

“But… if the kids love playing in the water, then why are they not allowed near it?”

The mayor looked away, tapping his pen against his desk. He finally said, “I’m afraid it is none of your concern. Why should I trust a bunch of outsiders?”

The group was taken aback at the sudden distrust and hostility from this seemingly kind man.

“Uh, sorry, sir, but we can help with whatever you need. Whatever you’re struggling with, we can help you,” Sky gestured to the group and turned back to the mayor, “we’re fighters, and we are very skilled when dealing with monsters or bad people in general. We just noticed that something was wrong, and we want to help.”

The mayor stared at Sky with narrow eyes, then his eyes traveled to the rest of the group. His expression flickered with confusion when he saw young Wind, but he didn’t say anything.

“You do look like a tough bunch…” he muttered, stroking his goatee. He tapped his desk again and let out a sigh. “Alright, I suppose… if you can help us… that would be wonderful. You see… there have been kidnappings happening near that fountain. It started with my own two children, my son and daughter. Me and my wife tucked them into bed like we always do, and we assumed that they were asleep. Except… they left their beds and went outside at night. One of the shopkeepers saw them chasing after something, I don’t know what, and she saw them run to the fountain. She went over to get them but something knocked her out, and my children… were gone…” The mayor paused, clearly distressed from the loss of his children. He took a deep breath and kept going. “A couple of nights later, a couple noticed their child walking to the fountain, they said music was playing. As soon as he was by the fountain, shadows snatched him away, and since then, everyone’s children have been disappearing. Concerned parents lock their doors and make sure that their kids do not leave… but somehow, they are lured out… it’s been happening for three weeks… we don’t know what to do about it.” The mayor took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. He looked up at the group of heroes with pleading eyes. “Please, if you can save our children and stop these strange kidnappings, I will be very grateful.”

Sky nodded without hesitation and so did the others. “We’ll gladly help,” he said.

The mayor smiled a little and bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank you. You all can stay at the inn if you want, we won’t charge you, consider it payment for getting our children back.”

The group nodded, and soon left the mayor's office.

“Well,” Wild started, “what do we do?”

Everyone shrugged, they were concerned with the information they received. Twilight was reminded of when the Ordon children were kidnapped, the distressed face of the mayor reminded him too much of the distressed faces of the villagers. Warriors silently watched a group of children play with a ball protectively, ready to attack in case something were to snatch them. Wind, however, was angry. Who could do such a thing to children? What was there to gain from this? He thought of the poor, helpless kids missing their parents in a cage, and he shook his head furiously.

“We have to find them!” He cried, gaining attention from the others. “We should look around by the fountain and see if there’s a hidden tunnel or something.”

“Good idea sailor,” Warriors said, and immediately walked over to the fountain. The group followed and began searching for a clue. They tried pushing the fountain in all directions, Hyrule and Wild both searched inside the water for a trap door or switch, they nudged at every detail and looked around the courtyard, hoping to find something. But they couldn’t find a hint as to where the missing children could be.

Time and Twilight left to question the townspeople, but they couldn’t give them any ideas. It was always night when the children were kidnapped, and the kidnappers were always wearing dark clothing, so it was hard to see anything when it happened. When Time and Twilight returned, the group sat at the fountain in defeat. The sun was beginning to set, and everyone was rushing to get home safely.

“There’s nothing around here,” Legend stated, “I don’t think we’re gonna find any clues in the courtyard…”

“We might have to search around town,” Hyrule said solemnly.

Wind shot up and glared at them. “We can’t do that, that’ll take too long. We have to find the kids as soon as possible!”

Time stood up and placed a hand on Wind’s shoulder. “We are just as concerned as you are. But we’re not getting anywhere with this. We’ll rest up and look around town tomorrow,” he noticed the look on Wind’s face and quickly added, “we’ll do it early in the morning.”

The group all stood up and begrudgingly began to move to the inn in defeat. They were tired and very hungry, so they didn’t protest at the idea of sleep. They needed rest if they wanted to be strong enough to save the missing children anyways. But Wind was not having it. He couldn’t just eat and rest when there were kids missing from home. Kids who were probably terrified and needing a hero to save them. Just like Aryll…

He rushed over and stopped right in front of Time. He had an idea that he’s been pondering, and he was more than willing to do it to save the kids.

“I have an idea on how to find the kids… but you won’t like it,” Wind began sharing his idea, “Children are getting kidnapped right? Well- Well I’m technically a child right? So if I let myself get taken, then I can find the missing kids and save them! That way we won’t have to waste time looking for them.”

The group stared at Wind for a while. Finally, Warriors spoke up.

“Are you sure about that?”

Wind looked at him and crossed his arms defensively. Warriors immediately threw his hands up to calm the sailor.

“Look, it’s a great idea, but we don’t know who or what is kidnapping these children. You think we should at least wait and get an idea for what’s causing these problems?”

Wind looked down and shook his head. “I’ll be fine… Besides, nobody could ever get a good look at the kidnappers.” He looked over to Time, “please, let me do this… I can save these children.”

Time stared at him for a moment, his face expressionless.

“Even if I said no, you’ll still go and follow through with your plan, yes?”

Wind’s eyes went big as if he was just caught sneaking some of Grandma’s cookies. Time smiled at his reaction and patted his back.

“I know you’ll be able to rescue these children, young one. I will let you do this.” Wind smiled wide at Time’s confidence in him, but Time raised his hand before he could say anything. “However, I am not letting you do this alone. Smith, you’re going with him.”

Four let out a small chuckle and stepped out by Wind. “I knew you were going to pick me,” he laughed. Time observed the two heroes in front of him, ready to go into the unknown to save the kids.

“Alright then, you two can leave tonight… stash your swords away so you look defenseless… and watch each other’s backs. If it’s the shadow, you’ll be in danger,” Time rested his hands on both of their little shoulders, “but I know that you’ll be ok. You’re both tough and strong fighters… I’ll give you boys 4 days to save these kids. If you don’t return, the rest of us will come and help you, alrightt?”

Wind and Four nodded. Wind was determined to save these children, no matter what.

—--------------------------------------------------

Wind and Four cautiously walked around the empty town. It was midnight, and the only souls awake were a couple of stray cats darting away at the sound of the two little heroes approaching. The town at night was the exact opposite to the town at day. Daytime was exciting, lively, while night time was dark, gloomy, and scary. They hadn’t said anything, and Wind was truthfully nervous. He didn’t know what he’d be facing. If shadow creatures were kidnapping these children, then he didn’t know how he would fight them. Were they similar to the shadow they’ve been fighting previously? Or were they similar to phantoms? Wind didn’t want to get into trouble and have the group come and rescue him, that would just be embarrassing, then they’ll never treat him like a mature hero. Sure, he wasn’t super mature. He was still only 13 years old, but he’s seen horrific things and defeated Ganondorf. They weren’t ever condescending, and they treated him like a mighty hero, but Wind was still afraid that they’d treat him more like a child if he couldn’t do this. He looked over to Four who seemed calm about everything. Wind bit his lip and scratched the back of his head.

“Uh… sorry to drag you into this,” he said, breaking the silence.

Four looked over at him and smiled. “Don’t worry about it, it’ll be an adventure, right? Besides, we’re saving children, it’s the right thing to do.”

Wind smiled back at him and they traveled to the courtyard. It was a pretty spooky place at night, especially with the dangers of what lurked about. They waited for a moment, staring at the fountain, the water silently lapping against the sides.

“Maybe… if we started… playing around?” Wind suggested. Surely they wouldn’t look suspicious, right?

Four gave Wind a look and shook his head, “I’m not gonna start acting like a child.”

Wind shrugged and sat down by the fountain, resting his head in his hands. It was silent, and waiting for kidnappers was almost unbearable. Wind just wanted to get snatched so he could save the children. Four was growing ansty as well.

“Come oooooooooon… something come and kidnap uuuuuuuuus…” He muttered underneath his breath as he looked around. Wind smirked a little but continued to sit and wait. He ran his hands through the water, the cool liquid sending a shiver up his spine. The fountain was turned off, so there was just a pool of water resting in it. It made the night more silent. He continued to play in the water until he saw something bright reflect off of it. He looked over his shoulder to find something on the ground near one of the alleyways. He stood up and walked over to it. It was probably a trap…

Four eyed the shiny object curiously and followed Wind to look at it closer. The object on the ground was a green rupee, which reflected the moonlight brilliantly. Wind furrowed his eyebrows and looked at it closer. He never knew that rupees were so reflective. He looked up into the alleyway only to see two hands grab at him. He yelped as he was pulled harshly into someone’s strong arms. His first reaction was to fight back. He tried punching and slapping his captor, but quickly remembered that he needed to get taken. Ugh. Having to sit and do nothing was terrible! He stopped fighting back as his captor ran through the alleyways, the person being silent as they ran. He looked up to see Four running after him.

“Sailor!” He called out to him, trying not to get separated. He nearly caught up until something hit him hard in the head, knocking him out.

“Oh no!” Wind gasped, Four’s crumpled body in the darkness was the last thing he saw before a bag was thrown over his head, and he was carried away into the unknown.

[piecksz]

animeverse where eren is still in his cell and hange+others have an idea of bringing ina girl to fuc to 'loosen him up' so he can give info,hange has studies n research to back this up they bring you dressed scantily to go be his whore he knows why ur there n hates u so hes mean and ignores ur advances eventually he hate fucks u w his anger being directed at u from his situation choking xtreme degrading just being rough in general MEAN SERIOUS EREN NO FLUFF OR LOVE

catalyst

eren yeager x reader

warnings: nsfw, roughness, mentions of breeding, degredation, choking, explicit language

a/n: this is my first prompt request n i was vvvv nervous so pls go easy on me ok ok i hope i did your vision justice

“As romantic as this reunion is, it’s not a date, we need answers.” Levi’s words were austere, ricocheting off the passage walls as the three of you traveled deeper below ground. “He’s still a shitty-ass teenager. Hopefully isolation has made him desperate enough for female contact.”

You said nothing, and instead your eyes looked around fretfully. The chamber was inhospitable, forged from naked rock adorned with smoldering torches. Your minimal attire was inapt in its frigid ambience, so you walked clung to yourself, arms wrapped around your bare shoulders to retain as much body heat as you possibly could.

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” Levi questioned Hange, keeping his attention forward. He maneuvered through the sharp turns of the labyrinth, which gave you the impression he’d had many experiences down in the cells with his comrades.

Hange released a tremulous sigh. “It doesn’t matter. We’re out of options.” Their nervous tone had them looking over their shoulder, reassuring you with a placid smile. The gesture was thoughtful, considering it had felt like you’d been a third party to their strategic and undivided conversation, but it did nothing to soothe your hesitancy.

Levi and Hange had tracked you down and invited you to meet with them, urgently explaining that they needed your help with debriefing Eren after his insubordination and his blitz on Marley. He’d refused to disclose any further information about his conduct to anyone in the military, not even Mikasa and Armin, his closest confidants. So Hange suggested bringing in someone unbiased, someone not in the military to ruse more details out of Eren.

You were their prime choice after hearing how you and Eren had met when the Anti-Marleyan volunteers had arrived on Paradis. You’d been one of the several civilian volunteers that had helped with affairs and military proceedings at the port. There you’d met Eren and quickly forged a friendship, although Eren’s friends could have sworn there was more between you two than you would have liked to admit.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to their proposal. Perhaps it was your readiness to help the military in their righteous endeavors, or maybe it was for a different reason. Perhaps you were driven by your own selfishness. You wanted to see Eren again, even under the strange circumstances.

Eren’s cell was at the end of the corridor. Once Hange let out an abrupt “we’re here” your lips carried an eager smile, but your expression quickly faltered once you stepped forward and caught a glimpse of him in his cell. Even with the arrival of visitors, Eren kept his head forward while he sat on his bed, one arm balanced on his knee.

“Nice of you guys to pay me another visit. I’m starting to think you just miss me.” Eren’s voice was deep. So much deeper than you remembered. How long had it been? You couldn’t do the math.

“You know you’re our favorite problem child.” Levi responded humorlessly. He stepped aside for Hange to slip the key in the lock, and with one turn the door was swung open. “Don’t look so agitated. We brought you a gift.”

You made no efforts to step out from behind Hange and Levi, but Eren could see you clearly enough. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but maybe it was foolish of you to envision Eren slipping out of his troubled temper the moment you two saw each other again. Realistically, it never would have been that easy. Eren’s face remained hard, if anything it looked like seeing you made him even angrier.

Hange’s hand found its way onto your shoulder, supportive, but reminding you of the reason why you were there.

You shuffled forward, heels loud against the granite cobblestone. Darkness swallowed you as you crept in further, and you flinched at the sound of the heavy door being shut and secured behind you. Looking over your shoulder, your heart began racing at the sight of solid metal bars separating you from the outside.

“Let’s give them some space,” Levi suggested, stepping back from the cell.

Hange’s mouth opened to protest, but they were discouraged by Levi’s strong grip on their ear.

“We’ll be waiting outside if you need us, Y/N.” Levi announced through Hange’s squalls of pain. He gave you a comforting nod before his eyes drifted to Eren, and his expression toughened again. “Don’t try anything. Screams echo down here.” He paused and then turned on his heel to leave, tugging Hange’s ear before releasing it from his hold.

You watched nervously as the two of them disappeared behind the wall.

Hange’s voice was heard again further down the hall. “That hurt a lot, you know.”

It was the last remark you heard from the pair before you heard the door to the corridor close, and then worry flooded your system like it was on an intravenous drip. The Eren you were convinced you were meeting was replaced by someone you weren’t sure you knew, and suddenly you felt unsafe being alone with him, but you held an obligation to Levi, Hange, and the rest of the military that needed the information they expected you to gather.

You walked slowly, feigning a gentle smile to masquerade as though you were happy. It hurt to know that it was something you had to fake. You sat at the edge of Eren’s bed and took note as he made no efforts to shift away. That had to have been a positive sign.

“You look different,” you chuckled. “I like it.” The weak blaze from the burning torches casted a menacing shadow onto Eren’s stolid face. In the half light of the cell he appeared much older. You reached a hand out to brush away the loose wisps of hair that decorated his face, but your movement was stopped by Eren’s unyielding grip around your wrist.

You jumped, surprised at his roughness.

“Do you honestly think you can outsmart me?” His words were bitter.

You looked at Eren with wide, stunned eyes before blinking quickly and trying to laugh off your clear fright.

“What are you talking about?” You brought your unrestrained hand to his jawline, fingers tracing the shape of his face until your touch met the broad span of his chest, and then you felt gutsy enough to slip your fingers under the fabric of his shirt. “You’ve been down here too long. Not everyone’s your enemy, Eren.”

Your fingers wandered far enough until they met the defined curve of his collarbone and the robust muscle of his chest, but the moment was fleeting, interrupted by the jolt of Eren shoving you backwards. You fell off the bed and teetered, momentarily losing your balance.

“It’s pitiful that you’re letting them use you as a pawn.” Eren’s words were sharp, but venom in his words were bearable compared to the resentment behind his eyes.

He knew. He was smart, you should have known he would catch on. You created distance between yourself and Eren.

“What? They’re not using me as a pawn.” Your voice was unsteady. “I promise Eren, I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you can help me understand if you just—”

“Then why are you here?” Eren rose from his bed to begin closing the distance you created, and your body began to quiver with dread.

You continued inching backwards until your tailbone collided with the edge of the cell’s sink, and you latched onto it with a sweaty grip.

“I’d rather be a pawn than be driven to do terrible things out of my own free will!” You had no choice but to admit what he already knew, and in seconds Eren’s hands were strung tightly around your wrists while he trapped your body against the sink.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly, blinking back tears. You searched for something past his eyes, just a modicum of vulnerability to at least let you know there was a person behind the Eren you were speaking to, but the once fiery hues of green and blue in his irises were now frosted to an unremarkable grey. If it was true that eyes were the window to the soul, Eren was truly void.

“Please let go.” You pleaded and writhed in his grip. “Eren, seriously let go. You’re hurting me.”

“I don’t expect someone like you to understand.” Eren’s face showed nothing but malevolence.

“Someone like me?”

Eren pushed you back further into the sink until you bit back a shrill cry. “Someone that’s never had to make any sacrifices.”

Tear after tear did nothing to ease Eren’s painful hold, and as obvious as it was that he was hurting you, he remained unconcerned.

“Who are you?” You shook your head. “This isn’t the Eren I know.”

“Then your first mistake was thinking that you ever knew me.”

Eren’s words were somber, but he moved swiftly, and in seconds he tore you from the sink and had you pinned up against the wall, it’s jagged surface digging uncomfortably into your cheek. His mouth hovered by your ear, and when he spoke his breath fanned over the side of your face.

“Scream and I’ll break you.”

So you said nothing as Eren’s knee slid in between your legs, parting them far enough so that he could press his thigh to your cunt. His hands retired from holding your arms behind your back, and they traveled to your ass, riding up the fabric of your dress until it was on full display.

“This is nice.” His voice was condescending as tugged on your dress's short hem. “They did a good job at making you look—,” Eren delivered a sharp spank to the exposed skin then he ran his hand over the area searing with pain, “—like a whore.”

You took your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle a wail as Eren’s palm collided with your backside. He slipped a wicked finger under the thin material of your underwear and dipped his touch down between your thighs to stroke your folds through the cloth.

“Why are you shaking?” Eren used his free hand and slid it around your neck, gently at first, but you knew he wasn’t averse to tightening his grasp. “I thought this was all part of your plan.”

It had been, but your tremors weren’t the result of fear alone. You were scared out of your wits knowing that Eren had no reservations about harming you, and the thought shouldn’t have been as enticing as it was, but the combination of not knowing how he would choose to have his way with you had you feeling hot.

Your words were muffled through sobs, and your dazed mind didn’t make things easier, so all you could do was nod, which solicited a dry scoff from Eren. He hooked his finger around the fabric of your underwear and tugged it aside forcefully before parting your folds.

You released a feeble moan, and you could feel your knees buckling. If it weren’t for his tight grip, you were certain you would have collapsed. “Eren…”

“You’re wet already,” he said scornfully. Two fingers rubbed your clit mercilessly before slipping down to tease your entrance. “Acting scared meanwhile the whole time you were fucking dripping at the thought of me touching you like this. I don’t have to tell you how pathetic that is.”

Your breathing grew more labored at the anticipation of Eren’s long fingers entering you, pumping in and out of your hole while he ridiculed you for how desperately you tightened around his fingers, but you inhaled sharply when his touch disappeared.

Instead you felt Eren wipe your arousal on the inside of your thigh, and you had no time to question his behavior. A pitiful cry of surprise left your mouth as he grabbed the back of your neck, forcibly pulling you off the wall before throwing you in the direction of his bed.

“Move,” he commanded.

You staggered, looking back at him in alarm, but observed his directive without sacrificing any more time. Once you reached his bed, Eren followed closely behind, waiting until your back met the mattress to cage you in under his intimidating frame, and it then became clear that he held no other resolve than to use you for his own satisfaction. He disregarded your discernable ache and began unbuttoning his pants, pushing them down along with his briefs in one haste motion.

Eren’s large cock was already half-thickened with beads of precum glistening at its crown. He brought his palm to his mouth and spat in it before grabbing himself in the large curve of his hand to pump his length in preparation. He ran his tip up and down your folds, taking pleasure in the way you squirmed every time it prodded your tender clit, and then without warning he drove his cock into you, kindling a fervid cry that rose from the pit of your stomach and tore through your throat.

The sound echoed off the walls of the concrete box before ebbing into silence. Eren’s eyebrows creased in irritation while he looked down at you, and you suddenly harked back to his threat. You threw a quivering hand over your mouth, and shook your head, spluttering out a fragmented apology.

“I—Eren—I—I’m sorry…”

Yet he took no heed, and he began thrusting in and out of you, rocking back just to slam his hips into yours, over and over again until an uncomfortable pain grew from deep inside you and diffused over the span of your pelvis. All you could do was swallow your wails while your palm did it’s best efforts to smother your pleas. Fat tears ran down your cheeks and soaked into the sheets; your agony was hard to hide.

“Stop crying,” Eren barked through grunts. He pressed his hand to the hollow of your neck, fingers digging into your fleeting pulse. “You said yourself you have no problem being used.”

Sweaty fingers clutched his forearm, and you struggled against his dominance, breaths growing more and more shallow in an effort to conserve the air you were quickly losing.

He grabbed your wrists and held them together, pinning them to the mattress above your head with one hand.

“Maybe I should put a baby in you, then you’ll understand why what I’m doing is our last resort.”

Eren arched an eyebrow, but when you said nothing and only looked at him with glossy eyes a disdainful laugh slipped past his lips. He continued fucking himself deep into you, watching the way your body lurched with his movement, and then you felt his cock pulsate inside you.

It served as wordless notice that Eren was close, especially since he made no efforts to warn you. His eyes shut tightly, jaw hung slack while his groans intensified, and then he was cumming inside you, his hot seed flooding your walls as he claimed you.

You wound your eyes shut too, dark mascara-tainted tears staining your cheeks while you felt Eren thrusting through his high, making sure he had jettisoned every drop of his cum into you before he pulled himself out and wiped the creamy, white liquid that glazed his cock on the inside of your thigh.

“And when you report back, why don’t you tell them—” As if it were nothing he eased his weight off of you, taking a seat on the bed beside your shuddering body while he tucked himself back into his pants. “‘I let him fuck me pregnant because I’m a whore.’”

[imagine-loki]

Can you Keep A Secret

TITLE: Can you keep it a secret?  CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 3 of 4

AUTHOR: ValarieRavenhearst2 ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine working with Loki in some way but you keep your distance because you have a massive crush on him and you tend to always embarrass yourself. Alas you find yourself in need of his help as you need his magic and he’s the only one for the job.

  All the incubators in the lab make it feel like a sauna today, with so many new species needing direct heat, we’ve had to give them their own room. All my specimens look healthy and well after yesterdays’ sampling and I record their status on my iPad. After working by myself for half an hour I make the easy decision to take my jumper off before I start to sweat. As I start to wiggle out of it by easing it over my head, my shirt begins to rise with it and I make that awkward wiggle to try and magically make my shirt fall down without putting my arms back down. Whilst in the midst of my struggle I can hear the keypad being used to unlock the lab door and instinctively I throw myself to my knees to hide as my shirt has risen over my bra. Instant regret. I quickly correct myself on the ground as I hear Dr Banner and another botanist talking idly. The side of my abdomen stings viciously in warning as the material of my shirt goes back over it. I quickly flip it up again to inspect a small scratch now etched over my ribs, ending just under my bra. I hiss quietly in annoyance at my own stupidity as I stand calmly to inspect what I could have scratched myself on.   Dr Banner greets me in surprise, obviously questioning what I am doing on the ground.

“Good morning.” I give them both a greeting smile, “I just dropped my jumper.” I wave it at them as proof and they go back to their conversation whilst I look at the plant specimens in front of me. This odd, black looking orchidaceous plant looks awfully ominous with its long bristly thorns of an olive green hue. It must have been the culprit as none of its neighbours have any type of protruding bristles. With a slight panic spiking in my veins I try to examine it’s ID card but it’s information is mostly blank as it hasn’t begun rigours testing yet. Shit! What if it’s poisonous. Surely it would be in a covered incubator if it was known to be poisonous and over in lab 2 with the others.  I try not to act concerned as I question if the other two know anything about it and the other botanist, Swanson? I think. Says that the whole table is due for testing today by his team. I just nod in acknowledgment and calmly exit the lab. I mean, I feel okay, right? I don’t feel faint and or woozy.  I canter off to the bathroom after throwing my jumper over my chair; I quickly raise my shirt again in the mirror to get a better look. It’s not that bad … I suppose. The thin red slice is only about six centimetres long and it doesn’t look like there’s anything caught in the wound. Honestly, what an idiot. I can’t believe I was so reckless. If bloody Branson found out he’d have my head and he’d carry on for eternity how right he was about me. Oh the ridicule! He’d have me on desk duty till he dies. No one can know! I’m breaking every safety protocol we have but if I am to die from it so be it. I’d rather die quietly than admit my fault to that grumpy old git. After a quick rendezvous with the first-aid box I should be fine. I’ll just have to spy on the other team later to see if they come with anything concerning on the evil looking sucker. Ugh! I can’t believe I just did that.   As I exit the bathroom mumbling curses at myself, adjusting my skin tight black turtleneck, a wisp of black enters my peripheral and I know that the god of mischief has returned to the floor. His eyes find me as I cross the open bullpen to my desk and I let go of the hem of my shirt and make an effort to make the concern vanish from my face. Draped in a navy Asgardian attire, he is what my high school best friend would call a snack. I briefly notice accents of gold and olive lining the leather but I am quick to advert my eyes and look busy. I suppose he would be a nice distraction from the sting in my side but I needn’t the extra embarrassment on top of my slightly spiked anxiety. I can hear Branson’s old decrepit voice engaging with that sultry sirens call as they wander by my desk but I make myself continue typing on my computer as if my life depends on it. As soon as he’s passed me I can smell his cologne lingering to tease me. Do Asgardians even wear cologne or is that just him? I shake my head, determined not to let my thoughts distract me.   As I continue to work at my desk for the day, every time I stretch and move around I check on the other team working in the lab and notice that pointy little sucker is still out in the open so my panic levels have been low and every time I go to the bathroom I check my side; gently peeling off the large non stick plaster to inspect the fading mark. The redness has reduced so much that I have to strain myself to notice the mark.   I steal glances with the God of Mischief throughout the day as he wanders from station to station. I smile politely whenever our eyes meet and always breakaway first to continue working, which I notice earns me a sly grin after the fifth time. See, I knew that tricky bugger was up to something. I just know he purposefully loves to get under my skin. But I am not giving him the satisfaction of watching me blush today. Two can play at that game. Danny surprises me at lunch by bringing me a latte and childish teasing. He sits on the edge of my desk and immediately notices Loki working in the adjacent Lab in clear view of my desk. Trying to be noticeably subtle he continuously taps my shoulder whilst cooing in excitement like a giddy school girl. I shush him and punch him hard in the leg whilst acting like his antics haven’t phased me. I’ve been doing an amazing job of ignoring his presence all morning, he is not going to trick me into actively swooning now.

“Oh he looking.” Danny murmurs whilst turning his head away, tapping my shoulder again.

“Shut up!” I mutter back as I briefly glare at him in warning before retuning my attention to my computer screen.

“Girl he’s definitely checking you out.” He rearranges himself as he opts for standing behind me and leaning over me like he’s studying what I’m doing.

“I’m going to kill you.” I swivel in my chair so that I’m facing away from the Lab. “You’re such a trouble maker.” I hiss and jokingly shove him so not to make a big scene. “Don’t you have work of your own to do?” I question as I make an excuse to walk out of sight by taking my drink bottle to fill it up. Danny follows, chuckling evilly to himself.

“Yeah but this is more fun.” I threaten to throw water on him. “But seriously, he’s definitely watching you.” I could feel it! But I ain’t playing into Danny’s game.

“Yeah right,” I scoff as I begin back to my desk with Danny in tow, “what for? A good laugh if I stumble?” I take my seat but swivel so I’m facing Danny and away from Loki.

“Well no ‘cause I don’t think he’s ever laughed when you’ve embarrassed yourself.” Danny leans against the empty desk adjacent to mine and I gasp at him with forced hurtfulness.

“Are you saying I’m not funny?” I question mockingly and his face grimaces fiercely as he shrugs in agreement.

“Well, either he’s attracted to you or just pities you.” He deduces with his great sleuthing skills. “Which would you prefer?” I scowl so hard at him that he might burst into flames yet his shiteating grin is till carved into his face. I don’t answer, not diving into this ridiculous conversation (not to mention unsafe when he’s so close). With a steady, yet annoyed breath, I exhale loudly before turning back to my computer and turn my concentration up to a hundred and ten percent to block out Loki’s alluring figure in my peripherals.

“I have work to do and if you’ve only come to tease me you can piss off.” I purse my lips together in my best passive resting bitch face before flipping him off. Honestly what an arse – breaking basic friend 101 rules. Don’t joke about the crush in front of the crush.

“So touchy today.” He laughs and kisses me on the cheek before stepping around my desk before I can clock him one. “I’ll see you later.” He teases before leaving and I can feel myself being watched and it is so tempting to look to where that burning urge is coming from but I just know if I make eye contact I’ll blush several noticeable shades. I’ll remain strong, purely out of spite.   I finish all my paper work earlier than expected and manage to send off all my reports just has mid afternoon rolls around. Spite is a good focuser. As I’m scanning through my emails to see if I need to reply to any I get a page from Clint to say that he’s on his way up to check out his new arrow heads. I beam excitedly in remembrance, jumping up from my desk and heading over to Lab 2, where I had been storing them in the cool room at the back of the lab. I had been experimenting and developing  new knockout gasses and combustibles and I thought adapting them to Clint’s arrow heads would be a more challenging task then the standard grenades. Thus far the little project has been a success, they just haven’t had any field time yet.   I notice Loki watching me through his lashes as I swipe into the lab and punch in the code. We’ve already exchanged pleasantries for the day so there’s no need for me to make any form of acknowledgment as I enter. As I enter through the double doors he straightens himself, most likely in expectance that I had entered to speak with him since it’s only he and another botanist in the Lab. But I just walk straight through without a glance which gives me such a surge of power, knowing how  much confusion I was causing him even though his poker face is exceptional. After punching in the security code on the fridge I gently pull out the draw with the arrow tips and remove the tray, taking it with me. I have to make eye contact on my way back since focusing straight ahead would be too obvious and the key is subtlety here if I want to be one up on his intimidating behaviour. My lips curve pleasantly at him but I don’t say anything as I head back to the door. Clint is already at my desk and is glancing around for me. He waves happily when he sees me and opens the door for me so I don’t have to.

“Hey,” he smiles at me and I pass him the tray, “you sure these work?” He questions mockingly.

“Have I ever failed you before?” I coyly quirk my brows in rebuke.

“Want to test them with me?” He nods his head at the door for me to follow him and I do with a skip in my step. I did archery as a child but I got nothing on him. I take my time to relish in the fact that Loki hasn’t taken his eyes off me as I exit through the corridor and I even dare a cheeky, subtly seductive glance over my shoulder just to make sure. Oh it feels good to be bad .. no wonder he loves it.

[symphonicmetal101]

Citizens of the Devildom HCs

Ok, so this isn't my normal kind of post, this is kind of a world building thing, but I think its kinda cool and is the only thing I have motivation to write- so hopefully y'all like this, I have a part two brewing in my head, and it might actually get typed out-

Anyways, I think its about time we delve into what the "citizens of the Devildom" entails-

Firstly, I believe they would be split into three main categories-

Spirit

Humanoid

Monster/non-humanoid

Below the cut is me breaking each category down farther and a bunch of stuff I came up with, hcs of how I think this works- enjoy!

Spirits

- Wisps- these are fragmented bits of souls, usually of lower ranking beings, or cursed beings. Some have enough consciousness to lead people wayward in their travels through the woods or into the outer rings of hell, thanks to legends and myths leading people to believe that they would lead them to knowledge or fortune.

- Ghosts- these guys gain more power the longer they remain this way, however they also have a closer connection with their body the more recently theyve passed. This means returning their soul to their body only works if they were an extremely powerful being, or if there happens to be an extremely powerful being nearby to assist- they go through different stages once their connection with their body is completely severed, which can vary depending on how willing they were to pass.**** Stage 1, they cannot interact in any way with the living. Stage 2, only necromancers and those who actively seek them out can interact with them for short, unsteady chunks of time. (This is like..the absolute last chance they have to maybe return to their body.) They can move small objects, like keys or figurines, but it can be exhausting. Stage 3, they can interact with more living world things, and mess with animals a bit. Stage 4, they can show themselves to the living for short amounts of time if they wish to, or remain invisible. They can possess objects. Stage 5, they can switch between being seen or not, as well as now curse objects if they were a magic weilder before they died. Stage 6, They have full control of their powers, and can possess humans. As their power grows, they will be able to possess more powerful beings, the hardest to do being an angel.

Ghosts only exist because they

1. Dont realize theyve passed on

2. Have unfinished business, and have a need/want to finish it on their own, or they have someone they need to communicate with.

3. They want to be a ghost-

**** in some cases, a ghost is aware they have passed on, but refuses to accept it. They do not meet any of the three things listed above- these ghosts are still grow in power, but are extremely unstable and unsafe for others in the Devildom, not to mention humans. They are exiled to the outer rings of hell until they change, or in rare cases, make it to the human realm.

- Shadow People- they don't quite fit anywhere else- these are often confused for stage 4 ghosts, however they are different. They flow freely between the human realm and the Devildom. They fade into the shadows, and follow people. As they grow more powerful, they can manipulate other shadows of objects. They cannot speak, but between shadow people, they can communicate through touch, but to other people, there is perhaps a type of energy they feel, but they cannot touch or speak. There are very very few shadow people that can materalize into something physical, though when they can, they can be extremely dangerous, or completely harmless and just curious- best to just not piss any of them off.

Humanoid

- Vampires- Canonically, dont think these guys exist if they had an event about it, but whatever. These have your typical vampiric powers, which I'll sum up with shape-shifting, heightened senses, hypnosis, super strength/speed, immortality, and of course though not designated as a "power", fangs. Their diet in the Devildom are compareable to human diets, blood being more of a dessert food, and when eaten/drunk, usually from a common Devildom livestock animal.

- Succubi/Incubi- again, same sort of thing as vampires- ya know the powers they got, I wont get into it if you dont, bc this is not the right kinda blog to go into that.😂

- Witches/Warlocks

ok so heres where we break this down again.

First there are witch-born and witch-learned folks, witch-born being exponentially more powerful than those who just learn witchcraft, though anybody can.

After that we have Elemental, Potion and Spell-based, Healing, Sin-Directed, and Great Witches, which know a fair amount of each magic type, and have mastered two types.

Elemental witches, as the name suggests, study the elements and usually try to specialize in one element, and then branch out. The four basic elements, (air, fire, water, earth), are gateways into learning other kinds of magic, such as earth- metal, or air- poison, etc.

Potion and Spell-Based witches, again, the name suggests, create potions and spells. Many witches do these as a source of income. This kind of ties into Sin-Directed witches, who usually find one of the sins most appealing, then focus their magic and learning to create spells/potions that relate to that sin, however Sin-Directed witches are usually the offspring of a demon and a witch and can usual make people feel a bit o the sin they study just by touching them.

So if there is a Sloth witch, their potions and spells relate to a full nights rest, to relaxation, etc.

Healing witches are on the brink of Devildoms society, almost outcasts as their magic is one learned from angels, but takes the most control and power, thus are respected nonetheless. Do I have a potential Romeo and Juliet story to go with this? Possibly

Demons

- Ok, again gotta split this up into

Demon born vs Fallen angel

As well as Elemental vs Sin

Demon born- they are inherently more aggressive. Early years are a pain....young demons likely being the most difficult children in devildom to raise.

Fallen angel- depends whether they wantwd to fall or not this isnt important rn-

Sin demons- the result of either accidental offspring from the brothers, or years of dedicated servuce to any one brother allowing their sin to slowly corrupt and invade the family line.

Elemental demons- like elemental witches.

Included under the humanoid category would be other beings like merfolk, as well as necromancers.

Demons are also ranked from nobility down to imps.

Monster

There are way too many to get into for this, but there is no way everyone is humanoid in the Devildom- thus allowing hell to be a home for goblins, trolls, gorgons, monsters without names, SCPs/other cryptids- literally, everything. If yall want me to get more into it, then let me know- I think I might be able too-

[horrorkingdom]

Creepypasta

Barter

Marjorie had been lingering outside the nondescript metal door for nearly two hours, appearing to study the door and the faded sign above it. The Deli, it read in dusty script. Her coat was wrapped as tightly around her as the fraying fabric allowed, but still the winter air dug through it. The cold was not enough, however, to drive her out of the elements and through the door. Once or twice she approached it, hand shaking as it neared the handle, only to draw back at the last second as if the handle were a snake.

It should have been easier to enter the door the longer she waited, but it seemed to only grow immeasurably more difficult. It did not help that in her entire time waiting no one had entered or left the building. Had someone sallied up, opened the door, and safely entered into a cloud of inviting warmth, it may have lured her in. Similarly, the safe exit of any sort of person would have given her the assurance that one could brave whatever lay beyond. But the road was empty, and the door sat unmoving.

A particularly sharp gust of wind whistled down the abandoned alley, tugging at her coat and sending her tangled hair into a maelstrom. Her eyes watered at the cold, and she inched closer to the wall, hoping it would afford some protection. It was silly, she chided herself, spending all this time out in the elements. This was what had to be done. She was out of options, and her only hope lay beyond that door.

Yet Marjorie wondered if perhaps it was better to be hopeless than pay whatever price this hope would cost.

The streetlight flickered on overhead. Soon it would be dark, and then she would have to make a decision or risk staying on the unsafe streets at night. Being here in the middle of the day was dangerous enough—she would not be caught outside after dark.

That was the final shove she needed to overcome her inertia. With sudden resolve, she gripped the door handle. It flew open in her hands almost reflexively, for which she was glad. The metal was bitterly cold, seeming almost to burn her with its chill. Had the door not stood open, she would have again released it and likely vanished back to her home.

Inside was a nondescript, concrete hallway. A lonely yellow light filled the inside, leading to another door. This door was made of a dark wood and had a heavy brass knocker affixed to the middle. Marjorie’s steps echoed in the concrete chamber, coming to a sudden stop when the metal door groaned to a loud close. The weak, evening light was now gone, leaving her alone with only the single bulb. She had not realized how comforting it was to have that little bit of the outside world with her. With the door closed, even the distant sounds of traffic were cut-off.

Panic wrapped its claws around her throat. She felt her chest tighten with its serpentine grip; her heart thundered against her ribs. In that moment, instincts took over and she reverted to her most primitive response. Flee.

The echoes of her steps were a maddening flurry around her as she sprinted the fifteen feet back to the metal door. Her hands scrambled for purchase on the handle, only to find nothing but smooth metal. No handle on this side. The thunder of thousands of years of evolution continued to push her towards flight, and her fingers clawed around the metal door frame, hoping to find some crevice to pry open the door. Only there was again nothing. In the dim light afforded by the bulb, she could not make out a single seam. It was almost as if the door had sealed as soon as she entered. Her breaths now came in ragged gasps that did little to help her or calm her. Instead, the world seemed to swim before her. A mocking door, concrete walls. It was almost as if the walls were inching closer, activated on some cruel timer to pin her here forever.

All that she could hear was the flood of blood pulsing through her veins, the rapid fluttering of her heart frantically trying to escape, and the jarring sound of air ripping from her lungs before being shoved back inside. The walls acted as an echo chamber, reflecting her own terrified symphony back at her.

Deep breaths, she reminded herself. Just like those nights spent in the closet, deep breaths. She had to slow herself down if she was going to survive this. Slowing her breathing to a measured pace was akin to stopping a car with no brakes. She felt her lungs fight against the control, trying to maintain their breakneck pace despite her insistence. Overtime, however, she won out. The breaths were shaky, but calm, and her heart took its cue to return to its typical state of frenzy. The walls returned to their assigned places and stopped their dizzying journey.

Carefully, Marjorie ran her hands along the wall where the door stood, confirming that there was no seam that she could grip. It was a well-constructed door; there was not even a glimmer of dying afternoon light slipping through the bottom. If she could not back out now, she must go forward.

The hallway was not long, but she felt like a member of a funeral procession as she somberly made her way towards the door. Up close, she could see twisting, abstract shapes carved all over the door. They meant nothing to her, but she felt her breaths begin to hiccup again in her chest. Deep breaths, she repeated her only mantra.

Her hand was shaking as she placed it on the brass knocker. Unlike the door handle, this one was pleasantly warm to the touch. Inviting, almost. With a groan of rusted metal, she lifted it and rapped it quickly against the door. One, two, three. The door began to swing smoothly on its hinges after the third knock, opening onto a room filled with the murmur of quieted voices and wisps of strange smelling smoke. She stepped gingerly inside, feeling immediately out of place.

There were tables and booths scattered around the room. Marjorie did her best not to make eye contact or even look at them, keeping her eyes trained to the worn wood floor. She heard a few snickers, saw a couple hands point her out from their shadowy seats. Even as the large frames filled her periphery, she walked steadfastly towards the counter at the far end of the room.

Everyone in the room recognized immediately how out of place she was. While they were each bedecked in protective charms and talismans—some hanging from their necks, others etched into the scar tissue of their bodies—all she had was the flimsy barrier of her coat, still pulled tight around her against the now suffocating heat of the small room. She waked gingerly across the creaking floorboards, barely daring to breathe. They grinned and watched.

Marjorie approached the counter and lifted her eyes to see the attendant slouched on a stool behind the domed glass structure. Halfway to his face, her eyes froze on the contents of the display case. She assumed the rotted lumps inside had once been some sort of meat, though they were now covered in flies and maggots. Pooled, congealed blood covered the bottom surface, even seeping out and down to the floor. She followed the trail to see the red-stained, warped wood along the floor boards. Mouth agape and eyes wide, she was certain she saw a few eyeballs and fingers mixed in amongst the decay, but she tried to put it out of her mind.

“Want to try a sample?” came the mocking, gravelly voice of the attendant as he pulled open the door to the case. Immediately, a wave of putrescence poured out and enveloped Marjorie. She did her best to escape it, stumbling backwards and tripping over a warped floorboard. There was a low chuckle from those gathered around her, growing more and more quickly into a round of bawdy laughter.

She gagged, her stomach trying to force up the breakfast and lunch she had not eaten. It burned her eyes, starting them watering again. Her stomach having only been successful in ejecting a small amount of water she had nervously sipped at outside, her lungs took to coughing. Anything to get that stench away from her and out of her body.

There was the sound of a lock snapping into place as the attendant continued to laugh. She studied him briefly from her place on the floor behind watery eyes. He was filthy, covered in a layer of grime that made it impossible to tell his age. A tangled mess of dirt and wispy hair sat atop his head, falling into his beady eyes as he rocked back and forth with laughter at her predicament. His hands—stained and caked with muck—gripped the counter as long, yellowed nails scraped across the glass in time to his chuckling.

Marjorie did her best to pull herself together, rising from the floor and straightening her clothes as if that would restore her dignity. The smell had faded, now only a slight whiff of decay rather than the malodorous assault. That or her nose could no longer register the scent having burned out that sense for good. She threw her head back, eyes meeting the dark, glassy eyes of the man behind the counter.

“I’m here to speak with the owner,” she said in what she hoped was a confident voice. It did not help that it trembled and broke as she spoke. But at her words, a begrudging silence spread through the room.

The attendant snorted, a thick mucusy sound. For a moment she was afraid he was preparing to spit on her. Instead, he jerked one dirty finger to a paper ticket dispenser. “Take a number, then.”

With that, the attention on her seemed to fade. The low, grumble of conversation returned and she heard chairs scraping across the wood as the denizen’s returned to their intrigue. She walked over and gripped the dusty piece of paper delicately, as if afraid it might crumble to dust in her fingers. Perhaps this was another trick. Instead, the machine groaned and dispensed with a tiny slip. Number 43. She looked around for some sign that told her where she was. She had not seen anyone enter or leave today, so perhaps the line was long. But there was no such indicator.

“Excuse me,” she cautiously questioned the attendant, “how do I know what number is up?”

One eye turned to face her, the other stared out over the bar. “Take a seat and you’ll be called.” His eye flicked back to whatever it was between the counter and door that so raptly held his attention.

Marjorie gingerly picked her way over to an unoccupied table, acutely aware that her back was exposed to whatever kind of people liked to congregate in a place like this. She was certain that she could feel each individual eye raking over her back, sense spider-like appendages trace up and down her spine. Her hands were balled into knots, resting bloodlessly on her lap.

The minutes trickled by, marked only by the rise and fall of bawdy laughter. Marjorie kept her eyes focused on the table in front of her, trying to pick out patterns and shapes in the wooden surface. Trying to keep her mind from wandering too far from the task at hand. Somehow she knew that she could snap if forced to take in the reality of where she was and what she was doing. Instead, she focused on the next step. Meeting the owner and making her request.

The crack of a metal mug slamming onto the wooden table brought her eyes up, open wide like an animal caught in a snare. A woman stood across from her, tall and broad-shouldered. She had one bright green eye that studied Marjorie up and down. In place of her other eyes was a nasty incision, weeping a slight bit of pus, that bulged with dark stitches. Without being invited, the woman settled into the seat across from Marjorie.

“Me oh my, you don’t belong here, pretty thing,” she said in a hushed tone. Her eye was hungry. Marjorie sat silent as the woman studied her with a slight smile on her dry, swollen lips. “No, you aren’t meant to be here at all. What brings a little bird like you into a place like this?”

Marjorie focused her eyes back on the table. There was nothing she could say here that would keep her safe, and she knew that. She just needed to meet with the owner and make her request.

“A quiet one. Not going to sing for Lucy, eh? Come now, tell me what you need and I can help you get out of this place.” Marjorie’s silence prevailed. “We both know this is not a safe place for the likes of you. I’ve got a soft-spot for women, knowing how hard it is to be among this rabble myself. Just let me help you, dearie.”

Almost unbidden, Marjorie’s eyes lifted from the table and met the woman’s unnatural green one. It was beautiful, truly, even if it was nested within a hideous face. The green reminded Marjorie of the view from her bedroom window as a child on Easter morning. There was a small tree that grew just outside that always seemed to be absolutely covered in new leafs that shone with that bright, spring green. That was the color of the eyes. And it shone and sparkled like sunlight reflecting off water.

“There now, I’m sure we can work something out. I just know I can help you with whatever you need.” Lucy’s voice was a soft singsong, not the harsh growl of a dedicated chain smoker like before. “I even make sure my prices are fair, especially for a fair young thing like yourself.” Marjorie felt a hand on her knee, gently stroking. “Them pretty eyes of yours—they look like they’ve seen a world of heartache, eh? I could take care of those for you. You’d like that, yes?”

Eye fixated, Marjorie felt her head begin to bob slightly. To not see the horrors she had in her time, well, that would be nice.

“I see you like the idea,” Lucy’s face cracked open into a wide grin. “I thought you might. I’m good as seeing what people really need from me. I just need you to say it. Say you’ll give me those awful eyes of yours, and I’ll make sure you never have to see something so terrible again.”

Marjorie’s mouth opened, the very words on her lips, when a strong hand settled onto her shoulder. It smelled of leather and blood and gripped her shoulder hard enough to break the trance.

“Not going to let you have all the fun, Ol’ Luce. It’s not every day we get something so lovely in this dingy place.”

Marjorie felt dizzy and confused, as if time were moving at double again its normal pace. Her mind was slow in catching up to what was happening—what had almost happened—leaving her feeling as if she were lagging behind the rest of the world. Now Lucy was standing, measuring up to a formidable height, with anger in that lone green eye.

“I’ll not have you meddling, Thomas. She and I were nearly to a deal.”

“A deal you tricked her into, no less. Where’s the fun in that? Just weave your little spell, and she’ll say whatever you want. You’ve gone soft, Luce. I need to make you work for it.” His voice was soft, but firm. It seemed to cut through the background din like a razor, until it was the only thing she could hear. As Marjorie’s mind caught up with what had just nearly happened, she felt her heart begin to race. And then there was the hand on her shoulder, the firm grip beginning to hurt with its intensity.

The man bent over her shoulder, smiling. A long, black beard tickled against the skin of her neck, and she could smell the whiskey on his breath. “I’m afraid we have not been introduced, and I’ve already gone and saved your life. It’s a bad habit, I admit. My name is Thomas.” He extended his other hand towards her, the one on her shoulder growing tighter as she refused to shake. “Oh, we must be polite in an uncivil place as this, yes? What’s your name?”

Marjorie whimpered at the pain in her shoulder but fixed her eyes back on the table. She had to talk to the owner. She had to make her request.

“Back off and let her be, Thomas. I saw her; I made the first move. There’ll be others for you,” barked Lucy’s voice.

“Yes, but you didn’t close on the sale, now did you?” His eyes flicked away from Marjorie for just a moment, fixing Lucy with a cold gaze before returning with more warmth to Marjorie’s face. “You’ll find I’m much more direct. No need for silly games.” The hand moved smoothly from her shoulder, along the back of her neck. Suddenly, his fingers were wrapped through her hair, yanking her head back and exposing her throat. She felt something cold and sharp there, and barely dare to breathe. His smiling face leaned over hers, “How many years would you give me to keep this pretty little neck of yours attached?”

Marjorie heard a short laugh to her right, saw a slender man standing to the side. He stood just within her periphery, far enough back that she could only make out the vague shape of him. “Thomas, do be careful. There is plenty of her to go around if we just act with a little tact. I bet you could make some even better deals if you thought this through.”

“Oh no, you aren’t going to trip me up with that again. You swindled me out of everything last time.”

“You are right, it was a bit of a dirty trick. But surely you and Luce could work out some sort of a deal. You don’t need her eyes after all.”

Marjorie noticed the shadow of Luce appeared to turn and nod towards the man to the side, and she heard a very soft chuckle from him.

Thomas’ hands gripped her hair even more tightly. “You’re just mad that I got to her first, and this time I’m cutting you out!”

“Well, fine, but I fear it’s not just me you’ll be fighting against, Tom. A lot of us would like a piece of her.”

Thomas leaned back down by her ear, his words coming in a whispered frenzy. “Well, dear, looks like they’ll be taking you piece by piece. What do you say then? Give Ol’ Thomas whatever years you’ve got left? At least they’ll go to some sort of use, yeah?”

Marjorie heard grumbling in the room, the sound of chairs scraping along the wood, and a chorus of various metals meeting metal. There was a new tension in the uncomfortably warm room, a weight that pressed down all around her.

“Come on, times ticking, do we have a deal? You look like an altruistic soul. Help me out.” Footsteps coming close, a few short barks of anger. The intensity increased in his voice and he shook her head sharply. “They’ll cut out your tongue soon, so you best tell me now!”

Marjorie felt tears falling down her cheeks, a steady stream now pouring from her eyes. She had to speak to the owner. She had to make her request. Only she was not so sure she’d even get that chance.

Someone grabbed Thomas and the knife nicked her, drawing a thin line of blood far less lethal than it could have been. Marjorie dove under the table, trying to evade the arms that grabbed at her. There was the smell of blood in the room, and all the inhabitants had been suitably whipped into a frenzy. She was the lone fish drifting amongst the sharks.

A mug struck her temple, thick hands gripped and tugged at her arms, leaving angry red bruises that began to darken almost instantly. The rough floor scraped along her knees and arms as she crawled, filling her skin with tiny needling splinters. As she scrambled, kicked, and bit at any appendage that came her way, she noticed the tempo of the fray beginning to increase. No longer was she the main prize, but the fighters had turned on one another, vying for the chance to claim this lovely reward. They knew, of course, that she had nowhere to run. Finally, she found a corner to hide in, burying her head in her arms and trying to drown out the sound of the chaos around here. She needed to speak to the owner.

After what felt like hours of combat, the sounds of an opening door cut through the din. A sudden silence filled the room, minus the groaning of the incapacitated, and Marjorie began to sob. This was it. A victor had been named, and she was now the trophy to be parceled as he or she saw fit. She could not even lift her eyes to see which of the horrors in the room she would be left with.

However, something else broke the silence. “Number 43?” asked the calm voice of a young girl. Marjorie dared to barely lift her head, seeing the tiny figure standing in a doorway that had not existed moments before.

“Number 43?”

She scrambled to her feet, holding aloft the ticket she had somehow held onto during the fray. None of the remaining combatants—the war had obviously not been won quite yet—dared to touch her as she walked forward, towards the child in the doorway. Still, she shuddered and spooked as they milled about in the shadows. The girl motioned into the bright rectangle cut into the formerly intact wall, and Marjorie walked forward.

The door closed behind her, a parlor trick she was now used to. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust from the gloom of the waiting room to the warm light of this new area. It was a well-furnished office, completed with a large wooden desk and an assortment of alluring leather chairs. The scent of cedar mixed with the smell of the crackling fireplace in a way that reminded Marjorie of weekend trips to her grandad’s cabin. Silently, the young girl stepped against the wall behind Marjorie, next to what had been the doorway, but now was nothing more than another section of oak paneling.

The man behind the desk did not look up at first. He was busy tallying and writing in a thick ledger, seemingly uninterested in the bruised and bloody woman before him. After a few moments, he looked up with a friendly smile and closed the book firmly.

“Marjorie, pleasure to meet you finally. I see you got the traditional welcome from our guests? And not a one of them was able to make a deal with you! You must be made of some tough stuff.”

She nodded mutely, uncertain now of how to proceed. He simply smiled at her and gave her the time she needed to study him. His teeth were bright white—the only clean thing she had seen since entering the deli. His eyes were as dark as his teeth were white, but they appeared to be friendly. As he waited for her to speak, he knitted his fingers together in front of him, rolling his shoulder to straighten out the drape of his crisp suit coat. Every bit of him seemed to be polished and neat—a stark contrast to the room before.

“Are you the Devil?” she finally managed to squeak out, eyes wide.

He laughed, throwing his head back and letting the sound ripple around the room. It was a friendly, amused sound that put her at ease. “Oh no, nothing so boring as that.”

“But you can give people whatever they want.”

He composed himself, that same broad smile still on his face. “Well, of course I can. But there is much more to this world than your simple understanding of gods and devils. Don’t worry, Marjorie, this is no deal with the Devil. But do tell me, what is it you want?”

“I—I came here to—“ The words would not come. She had thought and thought about how she would tell her story, how she would describe the years of abuse, threats, and evil. She considered taking off her coat and showing him the pale yellow stains of old bruises, but they were now marred by fresh ones from the fray. She felt for the death certificate in her pocket, the name of her first son written on it. And now the words would not come.

He watched patiently, no hint of irritation at her pause. When she began to sob, he offered her the handkerchief from his front pocket.

“He told everyone I was drunk. That was how I fell down the stairs. That was why Mikey died.” The tears were coming more in earnest now, and she dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief. “They all looked at me like a terrible mother, that I would be drinking while pregnant. They blamed me—if I had been sober, I wouldn’t have fallen and Mikey would have at least had a chance. No one believed me.”

“I don’t bring people back from the dead, Marjorie. Even I don’t meddle in things like that,” his voice was soft, almost as if moved by her tearful story.

She took that moment to compose herself, sniffing and wiping away the tears. “I know. That’s not why I’m here. I want you to kill my husband.” The words were out, blunt and dirty, before she realized what she was saying. This was not how the discussion was supposed to have gone.

His face brightened. “Oh, is that all you need? Well, that should be a relatively easy matter”

“You don’t understand. He’s a monster. It won’t be easy to kill him, but you have to. You have to kill him, because he’s a very bad person.”

“Marjorie, I don’t care who he is. He could be Hitler or the Pope reincarnate. All I care about is that you want him dead. And I can make that happen, no matter how ‘monstrous’ he might be.” He reached over and pulled an ornate ink pen from his desk. “I will need some details, like his name, address, distinguishing physical features. Also, would you like proof of death?”

Marjorie’s stomach churned at the thought of what she was doing. It was the only way, though. He had to pay for his crimes, and no one else was willing to do it. “No, I won’t need that. Everyone says you follow through on your deals.”

“Word of mouth is certainly the best advertisement for services such as mine,” he smiled that disarming smile again.

“Um, well, his name is David Bergen and his address is 1394 Windhaven Rd, Apt 1722. It’s in Topeka.” He continued writing and nodding. “He’s about six foot tall, a big bulky guy. Blond hair, brown eyes. He has some sort of tribal tattoo on the back of his neck, one of a skull on his right bicep. Is that enough?”

“Oh, that’s lovely. A wonderful description. I’ll dispatch someone right away,” he said, nodding to the small girl. Marjorie heard the door swing open behind her, then close quietly. “But, now that your terms are set, let us discuss what I shall get in return. A few rules. I don’t trade in souls—it is simply too much of a hassle to deal with, and the return is rather poor. I also don’t accept first born children,” at this, he nodded his head towards the spot the girl had been moment before. “I’ve done it once, but I’ve found children are not particularly useful.” There was a sudden cruel glint to his smile, “Besides, someone has already taken yours.”

Marjorie was silent, her fingers worrying over the hem of her jacket as if that would provide some solace in this moment. Her heart was pounding again, and she wondered if perhaps she was going to suffocate here in this office. The scents and furnishing that had seemed so lavish now felt oppressive. “But I can give you anything else, right?”

He paused to consider her comments. “I reserve the right to refuse any substandard trade. I won’t, for instance, take your pocket lint.” He chuckled appreciatively at his own joke. “But I accept most fair trades.” His demeanor turned more serious, perhaps even taking on a sinister air. He leaned forward over the desk, shadows growing across his face as he did so. “Think carefully now about what you’ll give me for this. Whatever you decide, you will think it is something you would never want back no matter how long you live. But once it’s gone, you’ll find you cannot live without it. You’ll yearn for it. You’ll do anything to replace it. You’ll take it. But it will never be enough, will always be shrouded in the filth of something borrowed. So make a wise choice, but know there is no wisdom that will save you. What will you give me?”

She thought long and hard, but she had spent days thinking about it already. She was almost certain she had thought of something that in no way could harm her, no matter what. In fact, she reminded herself, it would be a relief. She would be strong and brave then, not the timid girl that had entered. “My pain,” she finally answered.

He smiled eagerly, a response that made her suddenly uncertain. “Oh, yes, we have a deal! Pain is one of my favorites. And don’t come back here saying I didn’t warn you.” With that he clamped her hand in his and shook once. Marjorie felt as his grip began as an excruciating vice, then dwindled until she could barely even notice it. The aches and pains of her various cuts and bruises also dimmed before disappearing altogether.

As promised, with it gone, she also felt that absence acutely. It was a kind of nostalgia now, a prickling sense of something missing and a longing to return. This wasn’t so bad, she thought. Uncomfortable, certainly, but it must have been the right choice.

He still smiled. “You think it’s going to be easy. But that’s just the first taste. Give it time.”

“But,” there was a crackle in her voice. Sacrificing pain did not remove fear. “I can take away others’ pain now, right?”

His eyes simmered with glee, as if her altruism was a delicious appetizer. “Of course, my dear. And you most certainly will. Again and again, you’ll valiantly step in and take every ache from their bodies, dry the tears from their eyes. And someday that won’t be enough. You’ll hunger for more. So you’ll give them a little pain, only to take it away. Until that isn’t enough either. I told you, it will never be enough. You can try to drown yourself in the pain and agony of millions and never be satisfied.” His grin finally split into a restrained laugh, and he quickly reassembled his face into a look of mild amusement. The excitement glimmered in his eyes.

Lost in his eyes, in the long future stretching before her, in the half-perceived glimpse of the monster she would become, Marjorie barely noticed as the room faded from around her. The last thing to disappear were his eyes, and she blinked. She felt dazed, as if waking from a dream, as she stood the sidewalk and in the light of early dawn. Impossibly, she was standing in front of a nondescript brick building on the other side of town.

“Remember,” she heard his voice on the breeze, “the Deli is always open. I’m guessing you’ll have a table all your own soon enough.”

Credit: Katherine C

[inspirationdivine]

When A Stranger Calls || Chloe and Orobas

Timing: Yesterday Parties: Chloe, one of Lydia’s human hostages, and @eldonash Summary: After fulfilling his promise, Orobas sees an opportunity. Warnings: stalking tw, drug manipulation (vampiric compelling, leanan sidhe kiss),  reference to domestic abuse tw, vomit (brief)

Remmy was staying at a friend’s, which meant that in the night air, Chloe could walk in the garden for a little. Stretch her legs, exercise, and feel the fresh air in her lungs. She knew there was a pixie nest as one side of the garden, so she stayed well away from that, instead sitting down near the end of Lydia’s garden, by the bushes marking the edge of the perimeter. 

Orobas was a ridiculously patient person. Months now he had been bound with Lydia, and to the immortal, it really wasn’t any time at all. But this was causing a rift between him and his master, and with the Elder always in his mind, it was an impossible thing to ignore anymore. He had watched this garden for months either through his own eyes, or the trusted eyes of his blood dolls. It seemed probability was flipping tonight in his favor. He appeared behind the woman, wisps of fog that reformed and draped his arms over her shoulders and hand pressed into her mouth to muffle a scream. “Shh, be quiet or I will break your neck,” Orobas muttered near her ear, he slowly removed his hand to allow her to speak. “Do you live in this house?”

The appearance was sharp, pinning Chloe in place in the space of a breath. At first, foolishly, she thought it was Lydia, who liked to sneak up on them, but rarely grabbed them. When he spoke, Chloe froze, her heart beginning to pound as a rash spread up her legs. You won’t ever let anyone know you were here, will you? Without  even intending it, she’d broken a promise, her stomach turning sharply. Her eyes flicked to the house, but she couldn’t see Lydia, who would be able to keep her safe. “I can’t tell you that,” she breathed softly, her voice trembling. 

“Can’t?” Orobas plucked that word out with a curious tilt to his cheek, following her gaze towards the home. Even without directly saying it, her body language was speaking loudly. “I know this is scary--” he was so close, but barely any breath marked the back of her neck as he spoke. “The idea of betraying someone might bring you great discomfort.” Orobas couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like to be a human in a Fae’s care. His own dolls could seem fine in public, but were quite obedient things to their master. If that was the case, this would take special wording. “Have you been alone at home?” he asked, desiring to know how many people could be in there. 

“Can’t,” Chloe confirmed. Shifting in his grip slightly. She wasn’t trying to pull away, or even see him, but his arm pinning her in place was uncomfortable, his lips so close to her ears. He didn’t understand. The idea of betraying Lydia, even slightly, wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was unthinkable. When Sammy had thought he’d brought a pitchfork wielding mob to Lydia’s home via Ariana, he’d been sick for days with terror and grief. Lydia was Chloe’s everything, no matter how much she hated it when Lydia hadn’t fed on her for a while. She swallowed, raising a single hand to his arm. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Can’t again,” Orobas chuckled, lips just brushing skin. The uncomfortable shift kept him aware of the time passing. Getting caught and spoiling his plans wasn’t on his agenda tonight. She had the answers he wanted. It was just how to get them that was the obstacle, and how soon he wanted this all to end. “Hm. Fine. I was asking nicely, dear.” He moved around the chair, squatted down to be eye level with her, one hand pressed onto her thigh. If anyone were to gaze over, it would mock a romantic private conversation. Ever beautiful he was in the moonlight, the grip on her face wasn’t as kind as the illusion painted. He cupped her jaw and his stare seemed to pierce into her consciousness exposing something far from human before her. His words held power, compulsion wrapped around each syllable like they were the sweetest sentences on human ears. “You have always wanted to have someone over the house. Just to look around, completely innocent, your intentions are never bad, aren’t they?” He smiled, though distorted, it could be seen as hovering on the edge of gentleness. “All that you can’t say can be unsaid, but you don’t mind me coming inside. You’ll even leave the back door open for me. All you need to do is nod for me.”

Chloe flinched away from his touch, unable to hide the disgust on her features even if she couldn’t do much else. He was beautiful, undeniably so, but Chloe had learned by now that beautiful things could also be monsters. Maybe that was why she didn’t struggle, or didn’t run. She didn’t want to make a scene, to upset Lydia. She didn’t want Lydia to know just how disappointed she ought to be. Her legs began to itch so much they hurt, like a dozen ant bites all over her shin. None of that matter, though, when she looked properly into those red-tinted eyes. “I’ve always wanted someone over at the house,” she agreed, her mouth drying up. 

It had been 5 days and 4 hours since Lydia had last fed on Chloe. She never let it go past nine, otherwise their devotion waned too much. It was always strongest the first couple days after - Lydia said it was sickening to feel that so strongly. Chloe might have normally agreed, but as she stared into this man’s eyes, listened to the soothing lilt of his voice, she wished she had something stronger to hold on to. Something that was stronger than this. Maybe if she’d been stronger too, but Lydia had spent the last four years cracking into her head, breaking her spirit to make her easier to manipulate. Chloe forgave her, over and over, but this man was right. She wasn’t doing anyone wrong. She just wanted a guest, she didn’t mind him coming over. It would be nice. You won’t ever do anything to make me unsafe, will you? “You can come inside,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’ll even leave the back door open for you.” Chloe twisted away from him abruptly, as she wretched up her dinner. 

Orobas' entire body shivered, and he barely suppressed a groan of pleasure from the verbal invitation. Such a beautiful, delicate, and powerful thing it was. Not always easy like this, Lydia must have really done a number on her mentally to have such a weak constitution-- as she wretched up her stomach and looked ill. “Hm,” he squeezed her leg as she finished, remaining still in her presence. “Don’t be so upset, maybe this will save you. Maybe when this is all over, I’ll take you somewhere else to live.” He laughed cruelly then, a low chuckle that was disjointed and haunting. “It would make this place seem like a fairytale.” Orobas squeezed her legs tightly, enough to blossom bruises and force one last compulsion on her. “You have been here alone and got sick from dinner, you really don’t feel well.” He let go, standing up fully, and smoothing down his suit jacket, and pulled on the sleeves to straighten it out. “Sleep for a few days might do you some good, you think. Run along.” 

[sour-heart-treats]

A backstory drabble for Blueberry Pie perhaps?

A curious soul wandering through the City of Wizards was an expected sight around such an area. In fact, it was common for children around this time of year to wind up in such an extravagant place, taken for a day or less to explore under the watchful eye of the moon and her protective gaze whilst kids would take in the sights of a time long past. When grand wizards with power beyond one's imagination ruled over the vast expanse of the Cookie Kingdom with the knights as their loyal allies...

Though when it comes to children remaining behind, there were very few instances of such. Even rarer was the moon becoming unseen as night fell over the city... Keeping a young child in the dark when all of her classmates have left her behind.

Blueberry Pie, or as her classmates called her 'Bluebs', was never one to stray or break the rules. Clutching her history book in her dainty hands, it would come as a shock to her that she had been left behind by her class. Every call that she made to her teacher, her classmates, her friends... Nothing but the cold wind would blow in response. Without a star in the sky to light the way, without a sight of the moon, it was dreadfully dark. For Bluebs, it was terrifying. She whimpered, looking all around and desperately trying to find someone else... Anyone else... So that she wouldn't be alone in her endeavors to get home. Sure, she typically spent her time alone, but this was different!

Trembling steps upon the pavement that so many souls had walked on before her, the child kept searching. Though she couldn't find a singular soul to speak to, there was a type of sparkle- like that of a star- that flickered before her. Blinking, Blueberry then placed her efforts into following the mysterious light. She had heard of Will O' Wisps, but this was certainly different... And it wasn't as if she had anywhere else she could go for the time being. May as well follow the only source of light she had.

Following such a mysterious source was strange, it was comforting all the same for the small soul. Stuttered steps became smooth as she approached a large library of sorts- an archive- and opened the doors that protected the place with ease. It was then that the sparkles shined bright, spreading light that Bluebs had to cover her eyes for. One hand still on the book and the other over her eyes. She hoped she wouldn't need glasses after this- the stigma behind those would certainly lead to her getting bullied... There was a bit of a wince from the child over how blinding it had been, but once she opened her eyes and placed her grip back over her history book...

That book dropped to the floor, the fantastical sight freezing Blueb's senses in the most wondrous sense imaginable. "Miss..." Her voice spoke softly, the awe in her voice clearer than how her sight now was. "Miss... M-Moonlight?!" Indeed, before the child stood the deity of the moon herself, Moonlight. Her Majesty gave a gentle bow, smiling down at the child in awe with soothing warmth. "The very same as you and your class have read, dear..."

There was a squeal from the child as she scrambled to get herself together. Was her shirt buttoned correctly? Was her headband on right? Were her shoes tied? Aaaah, this was such an honor! "Calm yourself, child." The moon stated quietly, getting the child to pause and look up at the deity with a minor look of embarrassment. "M-my apologies, Miss Moon...!" She'd sputter, only getting a soft chuckle in response. "I understand. No need for apologies. Though... I do require something of you, child." There was a gaze of sparkling curiosity from the child, one that Moonlight couldn't help but feel just the smallest pang of guilt for creating such hope.

"You see, young one... These towering shelves require a protector... The Wizards of old have renounced their oath, and their spawn are receiving their dues..." Bluebs barely understood, but her fascination kept her attention hooked. "These archives are now unsafe due to the Wizards forsaking their promises to me, and I require a new protector. And it is with you, another one of their kin, that I wish to keep this place protected due to its sacred nature and countless tomes of magical and historical information..."

"S-so, you're going to make me a librarian?" Moonlight was taken aback by the question, though answered accordingly. "Ah... Yes, but I am sure you would prefer being called something more akin to the Archive's Overseer, wouldn't you?" There was an eager nod, one that her majesty found endearing. "Well then, Archive's Overseer... Do you accept your role as a protector over this very place? Relinquish all that you have, atone for the ancestors, and dedicate yourself to a special portion of my dear home, the City of Wizards?"

"I... Of course! I'm- I'm honored!" Blueb laughed with an overwhelming sense of joy. Aiding a legendary? Being somewhere so close to the moon and in a place full of so much wondrous information? This was a dream come true! But- ow, yes the pinch test wouldn't fail here- this was entirely true! "I thank you, Miss Moonlight, for such an opportunity! I will do my best for you!"

[hannah-deactivated20220725]

Happy Sulky Sunday! What things make your oc(s) feel unsafe or insecure? Do they have any coping mechanisms?

To Nash, he never feels unsafe so-to-speak but insecure is easy, just take Rory away. Like be someone that actually pulls him away and Nash will immediately be upset and insecure about it. But he won’t show it. He’ll just watch you very closely and keep an eye on you until Rory returns and lets him know what happened.

Franc is basically always just a confused mess. Tell him anything to make that worse, and he’d immediately become immensely confused and self-conscious.

Rory gets insecure when you start asking about his life before he became a wisp. He doesn’t like talking about it, or the fact that he is a wisp, but he is a lot less... outgoing than Nash on the fact that he hates being one. His coping mechanism is immediately changing the subject and if you won’t, he just shuts down completely and stops talking. He’s already quiet, that’s a good way to completely shut him down.

Thank you for the questions! :D

[wickedsingularity]

Until Next Time [Chapter 13]

Banner by PhoenixAlthor @ TDA

 The hand on my heart clenched painfully. I stiffened and gritted my teeth. My eyes stung and I couldn't breathe. I was there. I had reached the point where it hurt so bad I didn't know how to live for one more second.

 War. We do what we can to find comfort and hope.

Remus Lupin x OC Warnings: Low self-esteem, embarrassment, mention of past injuries, thinking someone was dead, vulnerability, mention of Greyback liking to eat children Words: 2053

Chapter 12 | Masterlist | Chapter 14

Warmth

I thought you were dead.

I'm not sure what woke me. It was still dark around me and for a moment I thought I was home. But then I felt an ache in my body and everything that had happened the previous day came back to me, and with it, an ache in my soul.

My first thought was if my magic had come back or not. I reached for my wand, always keeping it on my bedside table. But it was still on the floor where it had landed when I failed to cast Lumos. My next instinct was to cast a wandless spell to summon it, but I caught myself mid-move. It would be pointless. I pushed the covers off my body and inched towards the edge of the bed, all my limbs sore and tired. I knew that had very little to do with what Remus and I had done, and more to do with the fact that I had drained myself of magic and energy.

I stood on shaky legs, the cold of the floor seeping into my feet and I blinked, trying to see in the darkness. I staggered over to the wall, supported myself with a hand on it and crouched down and felt around for the stick of wood I couldn't live without. Once I closed my hand over it, I imagined I felt the warmth I had felt the day Ollivander handed it to me for the first time, asking me to try it.

Still crouching, I tightened my grip and whispered: "Lumos."

The same feeble wisp of light appeared, barely lighting up the dusty corner of the room, before fading and leaving everything just as dark as before, if not darker.

A sigh slipped from my lips and I toppled over, sliding down the wall, sitting on the cold floor, tears pricking at the back of my eyes.

Had I honestly thought all my magic would be back after a few hours? I was powerful, I knew that. Not the most powerful, but certainly above average. Common sense said it would take a while for that to come back and Madam Pomfrey wanted me out of work for a week.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, blinking away the tears threatening to fall, I told myself; "Patience." Even though I felt very impatient. And useless. And utterly defenceless. How did Muggles handle it?

The cold was starting to make my legs feel numb. I got up on my feet, with a lot of groans and curses, but didn't go back to the bed. Instead, useless wand still in hand, I pulled my nightgown down as far as it would go and slipped out the door and up to a room where I knew I could find warmth.

Remus' door was unlocked. I hadn't even considered how he would react to someone sneaking into his room in the wee hours of the morning, but I realised I should have when the room was suddenly bathed in too bright light and a wand was pointed at me from the bed.

"It's just me," I said croakily, hands above my head, squinting at the brightness. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Remus breathed and the light faded into a soft glow. "Oh, it's okay. I'm still a little on edge since my last stay with the werewolf packs." I padded into the centre of the room, twisting my wand in my hands, suddenly feeling self-conscious. The door slid quietly shut behind me. "What are you doing here?"

I shrugged. "Cold." It felt stupid as I said it. I should have just gone back to bed. There was no reason for me to invade on Remus after having declined his offer the previous night, we didn't have that kind of relationship.

But he moved slightly to the side and lifted the covers. "Come here."

My heart did a funny jump and I felt so silly, so childish and so unlike myself, but my feet pulled me forward and I laid down next to him and he pulled the cover over me, warmth immediately seeping into my bones.

"Afraid I'll hex you?" he joked, nodding towards the wand I still held tightly in my right hand.

"Oh. No. I don't know why I brought it with me. Doesn't work." I hurried to put it on the bedside table.

Remus made a sound, before settling down and laying his arms around me, pulling me close to his naked form, my back against his warm front. "Warmer?"

"Much. Thank you."

We didn't speak for a while. Remus' heat seeped into every fibre of my being as I rested my head on his pillow. This was so unusual for us and so far from what I wanted in my life right now, but the feeling of his arms around my waist, his slow steady breaths against my neck, was having an impact on me. It may not be what I wanted, but it was what I needed. It felt like a knot was trying to unravel in my chest, and I clenched my teeth in an effort to not fall apart in his arms.

"I was so worried," Remus said quietly. I thought he had fallen asleep. "Nymphadora just said you had collapsed and was ice cold. When she brought you in..." He trailed off and I could feel him swallowing behind me. "You had bloody cuts on your face. From the broken window, I suppose. And you looked... dead. I thought you were dead." His voice sounded weak and I had to swallow the knot in my chest.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be. I'm glad you're okay. That you'll be okay."

Silence fell around us again and I glanced at my wand on his bedside table. "I want my magic back."

"How does it feel, being out of magic?"

I took a moment to choose my words. "Restraining. Unsafe. I'm defenceless. I can't even cast Lumos."

"Show me."

I reached for my wand again, a stupid part of my brain thinking that maybe third time was the charm. "Lumos." But it was the same. I dropped it onto the bedside table, wanting to cry.

Remus pulled me even closer if that was possible. "You'll get it back. The evidence was right there. You couldn't have cast anything if it was gone." He buried his face in my hair and whispered. "You'll get it back."

I wish I could be as confident about it as he was. Madam Pomfrey and Albus and everyone said it would come back, and deep down I knew it would, but it was hard to trust that when it was so feeble. But I nodded and told myself again to just be patient.

We fell silent, and I pushed everything from my mind and just let myself revel in the feel of Remus holding me and how toasty warm I felt, how comfortable and safe everything felt right there in this room. But a sound from somewhere in the house made the moment end for me. I wasn't sure exactly what time it was, but someone could be at my room to check on me. And not finding me there, they could start looking and calling for me.

"I should go back to my room," I said quietly.

Remus didn't respond, and I thought maybe he really had fallen asleep this time. I started pulling away from him, but he tightened his arms around me and buried his face in my hair again. I couldn't be sure, but it sounded like he smelled me. But then he nodded and loosened his grip. "I'll go down and cook up some breakfast."

We both slipped out of bed and I padded towards the door, opening it a smidge to see if the coast was clear. Not hearing or seeing anyone, I slipped out and hurried as quietly as I could down the stairs.

I reached the landing and was just about to open the door to my room when Tonks came from the other hallway. "Wotcher," she greeted.

"Tonks! Good morning," I said. I noticed her furrowing her brows, looking me up and down.

"Morning," she said. "What are you doing walking around? Isn't that a bit chilly?"

"I, uh... Yeah, it's cold. Was about to get dressed."

Just that moment, Remus came walking down the stairs, already dressed for the day. "Good morning, Nymphadora."

She glared at him for using that name. "Morning, Remus." Then she frowned and looked at me, then at Remus, and then me again. "I just came to check on you before going to work."

I smiled nervously, if only she had been five seconds slower, or I had been five seconds quicker. "Still shaky and magicless," I said.

"I'm about to make breakfast. Do you girls want any?" Remus said hurriedly, walking past Tonks and me, not looking at us.

"A cup of tea would be lovely, Remus," Tonks said, glancing between myself and Remus again.

"I'll just..." I trailed off, nodded and slipped inside my room.

Embarrassment for the weakness that had made me go to Remus for comfort and for almost getting caught filled me as I slipped into the clothes from the previous day. I really shouldn't have gone up there.

Before going out again, I glanced at the mirror by the door. "Looking tatty, young lady," the mirror tutted at me. My clothes were all wrinkly and a bit dusty, but I was in no condition to cast a freshening charm.

As I came down the stairs to the kitchen, I heard Remus and Tonks chatting.

"It is a long time. Be careful, Remus," Tonks said. "Especially during the full moon."

"Do not worry, Nymphadora." They both looked my way as I entered. "I know them. I am prepared." He was waving his wand over a kettle and it started whistling and steaming immediately. "Tea?"

"Yes, please," I replied, sitting down and helping myself to a piece to toast and butter.

"Nymphadora believes my upcoming mission with the werewolf pack in Wales is too risky," Remus explained as he poured tea into three cups.

"We already know they'll side with... Voldemort, if he decides to recruit them," Tonks explained. "They're under Greyback's influence."

"Which is why I need to be there." Remus handed out the teacups, sat down and helped himself to toast as well. "There are several of them that are not on Greyback's side, but they have nowhere else to go. Some of them are children, Nymphadora."

"Do not call me –" Tonks took a deep breath and collected herself. "I see your point, but I still don't like it."

"Any help we can get for our cause is worth it," I said. "It helps even if they're not on You-Know-Who's side."

Tonks lifted her teacup to her lips but did not drink from it, looking at me over the rim. "Do you think he's taking a too big risk? It's not a secret which side he's on."

"I would lie if I said I wasn't worried," I admitted and frowned slightly. "But we're all taking big risks in this war."

"Nymphadora is especially worried because it was Greyback who..." Remus started and Tonks' eyes snapped to him. He closed his eyes as he continued. "It was Greyback who bit me when I was six." He opened his eyes again but didn't look at any of us.

I stared at him. I hadn't known this.

"And he has a... taste for children."

A chill ran down my spine at those words. I grabbed the steaming teacup and held it tightly in my hands, concentrating on the warmth of it and willing the heat to spread through my body. It didn't. All the warmth he had poured into me while we had been up in bed, gone.

I felt eyes on me and looked up, Tonks was looking at Remus and he was looking at me. "Let's change the subject," Remus suggested.

At that moment, the kitchen door opened and Sirius came shuffling through, dark hair very much in the straight out of bed style. He stopped short, looking at the three of us. "Who died?"

"No one, Sirius," Remus said, the corner of his mouth twitching halfway into a smile. "Tea?"

Chapter 12 | Masterlist | Chapter 14

[notsafeforwisps]

I cannot stop thinking about him...

he is just so soft

[mitcheemarns]

83. “If you want me, come and get me, motherfuckers.” (boeser and pettersson) kinda has a pissed brock defending petey vibe lol

disclaimer: this is a scarlet letter au! because im stupid! and i have no ideas or originality! 

in this universe, people are very homophobic and it is outrightly viewed as a sin. there are no specifics in which there are derogatory terms used. however, there is a confrontational scene where homophobia leads to violence. (the violence is just swearing, but there are no derogatory terms used such as the f word.)

im sorry. but have the scarlet letter au :)

Elias is new to New England. He cannot deny that. The colony is chafing and restrictive, nothing like the wondrous sanctuary that his mother and father once thought it was supposed to be. The climate is harsh, probably not as harsh as Sweden, and the people are stifling. The land and surrounding vegetation are telling of the colony’s future, with its powdery and infertile soil and a multitude of weeds sprung up throughout the area. It will be bleak and miserable. It was nothing like what his parents intended. 

At first, New England seemed to be an adventure worth living to experience. The settlers had convinced his family with bold fantasies of a life away from claustrophobic Europe to a place where a new community was to be made; a new religion, a new society, a new start. His parents had believed it, and so had he. 

The journey there had been rough; the toiling ocean had been an angry god. The waves had crashed upon their ship ceaselessly, ramming upon the oaken wood with the harsh force of a thousand bulls. They had lost a large portion of their people—their, Elias laughs to himself, he cannot believe he thinks he is a part of this colony—, including his parents and his brother. 

Elias was no stranger to death. It seemed to follow him like an evil fiend, one that was ready to take from him everything except his own life. 

But even after his family’s passing, he thinks he would have been able to push on and make a living for himself. Yes, he definitely could have lived in this New England society, if only it were not for the mindset of the people. If only he had not journeyed with this specific group of people. If only…

_________

“This boy! This—this wretched wisp of a sinner! How dare he trample upon our consecrated soil that we have just come to bless with our settlement?” a woman exclaimed haughtily, standing near the makeshift scaffold. Her face was wrinkled in an unattractive manner, the shadows draping across the creases in her skin and creating harsh concavity to her visage. 

“And with another man!” another woman gasped, her eyes filled with anger and fear. 

“Now, now, he wasn’t ever part of our community. Remember, he came to us with his parents from Sweden. We can all discern what type of people are born and bred in those areas.” The woman who made this comment seemed to be wiser, yet her wisdom seemed to strangle its receivers rather than placate and inspire them. 

“The nerve for him not to reveal the identity of the other sinner. He should be thankful that the punishment wasn’t dictated to be harsher,” one of the older women huffed, still managing to maintain an air of dignity about her despite the repulsion she felt.

“Hush, ladies! Are we not women of proper breeding and state? We shouldn’t bow down to the boy’s level and consecrate ourselves. Look! Here he comes!” The young woman who spoke pointed her finger at the prison door, which had been pushed open to make way for the young man. She held her child in her arms as the group of spectators diverted their piercing gaze to the iron door.

The young man walked out with disdain in his footsteps. His gaze was cool and sharp, surveying the rest of the community with ice in his light, blue eyes. He was tall and lanky in a way that introduced a sense of elegance to the people who laid eyes on his figure. It could be seen that he came from a line of high standing, not necessarily in royalty but certainly in human nature. 

“He thinks he’s better than us!” the first woman shrieked again, holding an affronted hand to her chest. 

The young man, having climbed up the stairs to the scaffold just then, turned his long neck and stared into the eyes of the woman who had shrieked the statement aloud. His gaze instilled fear into the woman’s heart; a type of fear that seemed to pierce all the way into the marrow of her bones. She averted his gaze, instead focusing on the black letter S that had been inked into the centre of his chest. 

The young man’s gaze followed the woman’s down to the mark marring his skin. The action seemed to shake the man up, as he clenched his jaw and whipped his head away from the group of women, leaving the first woman to smirk inwardly. 

Elias seemed to have no place in this godforsaken community.

_________

When Elias is rid of the stupid criminal sentence that the community forces him to endure, he moves to a cabin near the sea. It’s a nice, cozy place close enough to hear the waves crashing against the rocky cliffs. Most days, the seagulls cry out and keep Elias company. It’s pretty lonely, but at least it’s a place where he doesn’t have to suffer under the scrutiny of the community.

In Sweden, he had aspired to be an artist, because he was the second child and his family were supportive. But here, in this small, close-minded society, there was no place for frivolous pleasures like art. So, Elias sets out to find a job that maybe he’ll be able to hold for a while so he doesn’t starve and die. 

He ends up working as a carpenter under a man named “Bo”. Bo is his saviour. Bo doesn’t mind Elias’s sin or the letter upon his clavicle or the fact that he slept with a man. Bo helps Elias when he struggles, often sending him home with extra food that would have gone bad if Elias hadn’t taken it or giving him an advancement on his pay because Bo just “felt like it”. Not to mention that Bo lets him paint on the walls, when they work on a religious or decorative building, sometimes instead of calling for another specialized worker.

Elias thinks he might’ve fallen in love with Bo if he hadn’t met Him.

Elias thinks he might’ve left New England if it wasn’t for Him. Or else, why would he take the shitty ostracizing from the community?

_________

“Come ‘ere fellas, look who we have here,” a man calls out, “the sinner himself. In the flesh.”

Elias groans inwardly and glares, huddling into himself. 

“It’s him, huh? Didn’t your mom teach you to stay clear from unsafe places? Oh, that’s right, you don’t have one anymore,” the second man laughs, his features twisted from the malicious smile on his face. 

Elias grits his teeth and clenches his fists. To a spectator, it only seems that Elias’s glare has become a touch deadlier. “Time for some new jokes. They are not funny.”

The first man has the audacity to laugh, further tormenting Elias. “You wanna go, foreign boy? What a shitty accent, don’t you think?” He nudges his partner. 

“Oh yeah, just hearing it pisses me off.” 

The first man smirks. “Took the words right outta my mouth! Think we gotta dispel our anger somehow, yeah?”

“Fuck yeah,” the second man chuckles darkly. 

They stalk toward Elias with malice, fists balled up and muscles bulging in their arms. Elias backs away, sweat beading from his hairline. He doesn’t want to seem like a coward, but there is no way he can take one of these guys, let alone two. 

There’s a rush of adrenaline in Elias’s veins. He’s about to run.

Another pair of footsteps thud across the soiled ground. The two men turn their heads toward the unknown personage. 

“Brock!” the second man exclaims happily. “Glad you’re here. I thought it was someone else and it scared the shit out of me.”

Brock stops, his eyes surveying the situation. He freezes entirely when his gaze catches sight of Elias, his body still tense and prepared to flee. Brock’s eyes soften just a little before his mask is put on again. 

“Yeah. What are you two doing?” he asks.

“Nothing much, just teaching the sinner a lesson. You wanna join?” the first man laughs. 

A brief flash moves across Brock’s eyes. The two men wouldn’t be able to catch it, but Elias it does. The emotion brings more fear to Elias than the two men do. Elias shakes his head vehemently at Brock, pleading him silently. 

Brock smirks back at Elias, making Elias’s heart thump, before shaking his head slightly to placate him. Don’t worry. It’s time I do this.

“Why are you guys bothering him, though? Pretty fucking dumb if you ask me,” Brock scoffs, crossing his arms. 

The expressions on the two men’s faces change from surprise to confusion to anger. 

“You calling us dumb?” the second man speaks up.

“You better not be starting shit, Boeser. Your dad won’t get you out of trouble all the time, you little bitch,” the first man sneers. 

The muscles in Brock’s arms bulge through his clothing. “You think I need my dad to get me out of trouble? Fucking idiots. If you want me, come and get me, motherfuckers.”

Elias can only watch in horror as the two men swing their fists in Brock’s direction.

[faean]

Adamance of a Dragon

Collaborator: @i-am-here-with-fanfic.

Rating: T+; Mild Language and Some Conflict

Word Length: 2,396

Chapter 8 (1/2)- Show Me Your Will; Prepare Thyself 

         ___

         Soon, my little dragonling…

         I awoke with a start, tossing several pillows as a golden white spear appeared in my left, readied at the empty space before my bed. Realizing I was alone, I heaved a heavy sigh before calming myself, folding my wings behind me as my tail swished about my waist. Slipping out of bed, I began my morning routine.

         Blonde roasted Kona coffee being brewed as I changed from my pajamas into a plain black long sleeve and blue jeans, my moccasins on and jacket draped over my shoulders. Aaron’s favorite breakfast on the stove as I drank straight from the coffee pot and called him downstairs.

         He was… Understandably disheveled. He did not bother to fix his hair, and his uniform was sloppily buttoned. None of my attempts at lightening his mood succeeded, and he remained, for the lack of a more appropriate word, catatonic.

         Sluggishly picking at his food, he merely mumbled ‘time to go’ before trudging to his bag and out the door.

         While I had my suspicions, and was not entirely surprised to learn that All Might is his father, I could not have predicted he would be so…

         Broken.

         Aaron is a strong and caring person, but he refuses to rely on others and rarely opens up about how he is truly feeling. It is why he pushes himself during his practices, and why Aria asks me to keep an eye on him. He has hardly, if ever, been careful about his personal health, although, I must admit I am not much better.

         But merely holding back is not as self-destructive as holding it in.

         ---

         School was not much better. We had to make our way through a massive crowd of reporters and journalists; fortunately, a little magic goes a long way when tampering with electronics. That was not the end to them, of course. During lunch, as I sat with Shouji and Tokoyami, there was an uproar.

         People began scrambling to escape the cafeteria as an emergency bell and warning rang. Rather than be jostled and shoved every which way, I took to the ceiling and spotted Aaron clinging to the wall.

         I glided towards him, and he pointed at the strikingly familiar mob of reporters swarming Aizawa and Present Mic. While obvious to us that they were the cause of the chaos, it took Iida spinning through the air and slamming into the wall above the entrance as he shouted to regain order and calm everyone.

         One good thing came of it, though, as Aaron seemed much more receptive. I do not think he will ever be the same after yesternight, but I do hope he decides his own fate. He has so much potential, and I know he can be so much more than just a figure skater (which is saying a lot, given his numerous accolades and offers).

         The path he chooses is up to him, and I will support him for as long as I can but, for now, I will simply remain at his side until he needs me.

         And until that time comes, I will-

         Prepare thyself, my little dragonling…

         A shiver ran down my spine as I trailed behind Aaron out of the cafeteria. We were making our way back to class before lunch ended, and there was nary another student in the halls, much less a female one with an ethereal voice that echoed in my fucking head.

         It probably was not best to unseal my Anima form. Unlike the splitting migraines caused by my Prudentia form, this one caused something a little more…strenuous, I suppose. It dulls my senses and makes me more susceptible to mind-altering effects, such as hypnosis and invasive telepathy. Fortunately, segmenting my magic like this reduces the damage done to my body.

         Of course, using my Quirk correctly and freely is the best option, but I…

         Let us just say that a time will come when I shall fight at my best and beyond, but until that day, I would prefer not to draw attention to myself. There is a reason my hero suit is an all-encompassing cloak.

         “Faian, can you drop my stuff off at mom’s later tonight? I forgot to bring it with me…” Aaron spoke, bringing me out of my thoughts.

         While he still had a wisp of exhaustion in his voice, he looked better. Answering with a simple nod, I gave him a small kiss on the forehead before bidding ‘farewell’ as we entered our respective classrooms.

         I hope you’re ready.

         As much as I wanted to ignore her voice, she is powerful. If she claims something is going to happen, I must keep attentive. Of course, she cannot be trusted, so it would be wise not to take it to heart.

         Paradoxical, no?

         Looking at the clock in the empty classroom, it read ’12:38’, still twelve minutes before the next period, which is hero training. I was hoping to get some rest, shifting out of my school uniform and pulling a container of saltwater from my bag when a few of my classmates returned. Downing it quickly, as my body requires it to stay physically nourished (much like how a regular person would need to drink plain water, but it also helps with my limited regeneration), I placed the bottle back in my bag as Yaoyorozu and Todoroki took their seats. Shouji and Tokoyami went to the back of the classroom near me and were joined by Asui.

         Tokoyami was the first to speak, asking “So, who did you vote for, Nadal? You didn’t receive any which means you didn’t vote for yourself.”

         “Were you the one vote Iida got? He did say he voted for someone else.” Asui chimed in.

         Nodding, I answered “Indeed. I have no desire to lead, and his suggestion of a democratic vote simply demanded my own. Truthfully, not voting for himself only cemented my support. A good leader realizes their people take precedence, not themselves.”

         “Yes, but, by that logic, you would also make a good leader.” Yaoyorozu claimed.

         Todoroki was quick to add “You appeared calm and rational in the recording All Might showed us yesterday, too. Not to mention you have more experience in hero work. Why else would our teachers trust you as their aid, Faian?”

         While there was some surprise that Todoroki used my first name, I did clarify that I do not use his, and that if any of the four of them wished, they may use it as well. After all, I do enjoy their company, even if it has only been a few days. Although, I did have to help on pronunciation (Fae-in, it means ‘being of/belonging to magic’).

         ---

         “If we’re pointing out the obvious then there’s something I wanna say… about you, actually.” Tsuyu said, her attention on Midoriya.

         I was seated beside Todoroki, who I believe is currently napping. I would do the same, but these classmates of mine sure are entertaining.

         Midoriya become flustered at the comparison to All Might but calmed when everyone began to talk about their own Quirks. I would not be surprised if he had a connection to All Might as personal as Aaron’s, especially if his Quirk is not his own; however, my thoughts were quickly interrupted as Kirishima began making comparisons.

         “Well, if any of our classmates have pro Quirks, it’s Todoroki and Bakugou. Nadal, too.”

         Tsuyu added, “Sure, but Bakugou’s always angry, so he’ll never be that popular. And we haven’t even seen Faian in actual action.”

         That certainly seemed to rile the Iratus Catella. He began to argue, but Kaminari soon pegged him as having an awful personality (his verbiage was a bit… lacking). Naturally, this only spurred him on.

         Fortunately, Aizawa reestablished some semblance of order as he told us we had reached our destination.

         As we stood, gathered in front of the massive structure towering over us, the Space Hero, Thirteen, greeted us. She, or is it he? They?

         Thirteen began to explain that they had created the facility before us ‘to deal with different types of disasters’. It was dubbed the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, USJ for short.

         While I was admiring the sheer volume of the USJ, the conversation between Aizawa and Thirteen definitely caught my attention, more so when my little clover seemed to understand what they had meant by All Might exhausting his power. This is turning out to be quite an interesting week.

         “Listen carefully.” Thirteen began. I’m sure you’re aware that I have a powerful Quirk. It’s called Black Hole. I can use it to suck up anything and turn it into dust.”

         After a few comments from the class (Midoriya) about how they’ve used their Quirk to save people, they continued. “That’s true, but my Quirk could also very easily be used to kill.”

         I take it back; the past twenty-four hours have been exceedingly exciting.

         “Some of you also have powers that can be dangerous. In our superhuman society, all Quirks are certified and stringently regulated so we often overlook how unsafe they can actually be. Please don’t forget that if you lose focus or make the wrong move, your powers can be deadly. Even is you’re trying to do something virtuous, like rescue someone.”

         They were right. While not as obvious in Japan, many other countries, including the States, suffer from a rather disproportionate percentage of villain attacks and Quirk misuse.

         “Thanks to Aizawa’s fitness tests, you have a solid idea of your Quirk’s potential. And because of All Might’s combat training and Nadal’s review, you likely experienced how dangerous your powers can be when used against other people. Carry those lessons over to this class. Today, you’re going to learn how to use your Quirks to save people’s lives.”

         It will be their own that they must save, my little dragonling…

         I tensed and readied myself for what may come as Thirteen continued to give their instruction.

         “You won’t be using your powers to attack enemies or each other, only to help. After all, that’s what being a hero is all about. Ensuring the safety of others. That’s all I have to say. Thank you so much for listening.”

         Many of my classmates gave a cheer before Aizawa began his part of the-

         Show me your will.

         Electricity crackled, and the fountain in the center of the USJ began to sputter before a misty spiral of black and purple spun into existence, warping the area.

         A portal. One that burst into the foreboding shapeless body of a person as villains spilled from its depths.

         “Stay together and don’t move!” Aizawa commanded. “Thirteen. Protect the students! Legend, on me!”

         Confusion spread over the class as Aizawa barked at them to ‘stay back’. I made my way to the front, my hood obscuring the upper half of my face.

         “This is real. Those are villains.”

         Two of the villains spoke, revealing that they infiltrated U.A. and were behind the press storming the campus. My concern only grew as they continued to speak.

         They came for All Might.

         They want Aaron’s father dead, and it appears as if they have prepared for this. If they believe they can face the strongest hero, as well as Eraser Head and Thirteen, then they cannot be trifled with.

         A man with grayish-blue hair was making the threats, and while his childlike demeanor and the numerous hands adorning his body definitely grave credence to his villainous intentions, he made a fatal mistake.

         He underestimated us.

         Admittedly, that would be more reassuring if the alarms were not being blocked and if my classmates would calm themselves.

         “Thirteen, get them outta here. And alert the main campus. Actually, if they’ve got the ability to block our sensors, then they might be jamming our regular communications, too.” Aizawa was on top of things, managing to keep himself and the others collected. “Kaminari, try using your Quirk to contact the school.”

         Midoriya quickly interjected, claiming Aizawa could not face so many villains on his own.

         “You can’t be a pro if you only have one trick. I’ll leave it to you, Thirteen. Legend, make sure no one makes it past the stairs.”

         With his final order, Eraser Head leapt from his position and confronted the assortment of villains. I gave a nod to Thirteen as I sauntered down the stairs. Extending my left to my side, I summoned six rapiers of swirling wind and lighting before launching them at the base of the steps, already blowing back and electrocuting several villains when they embedded themselves in the ground.

         Although, I did not have much to do. Eraser Head was effortlessly making his way through the villains, and I merely sat at the bottom of the steps, my blades preventing whatever villain thought they got passed him and could take on a kid.

         You’re slipping.

         She was right. With my attention on Eraser Head, and his own fixated on his next target, the misty warping villain had gotten past us. I took one of my blades and incapacitated a few villains with their backs turned near me before one countered me and knocked it out my grasp.

         Leaping into the air after and connecting my feet with the hilt, I kicked off it, rocketing back up the stairs as the blade shot back at the villain, piercing through the earth in front of them before letting off a small tempest.

         Summoning a great Zweihänder in my right, I prepared myself to face the villain, but he was much too ready. Creating a swirling dome of mist, he ensnared most of the class and Thirteen, and opened a portal directly in front of me. Unable to slow down or dodge it, I turned to try and see if another would open as my exit point.

         I was sent hurtling into the fountain, destroying it and momentarily losing consciousness from the impact. It was for a moment, but enough to dispel my constructs and undo the seal hiding my natural form.

         Thankfully, my cloak was made specifically to accommodate any transformations (mainly just my natural form; Prudentia and Anima were a later experiment and are not as drastic). Figuring most everyone else was teleported, I deemed it best to aid Eraser Head more directly. I should save my magic and take advantage of my physical prowess.

         ___

I, surprisingly, had a great deal of fun writing this chapter. I cannot wait to share the next part!

Also, for those who celebrate Thanksgiving (being Native American and European, I definitely do), have a wondrous time! For those of you who do not, all the better for getting in those Black Friday lines sooner.

Beta Reader, Editor, and Co-Author- @i-am-here-with-fanfic