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bill-y · 4 years ago

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INURE

Peeta Mellark x Reader

[ We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family. ]

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part four: Click here, rooroorara shooty shooty vang vang

Part five: You're right here, silly!

Part six: Click here, war criminal of 1878!

Wattpad acc: L0calxDumbass

The moment the anthem finished, we were taken into custody. It's not as if we were cuffed or anything; a group of Peacekeepers simply marched us through the front door of the Justice Building.

Each year, at least one of the tributes tries to escape; I've never seen one successfully do so.

Once inside, they put me in a room. It's the most prosperous place I've been to. With a thick carpet in the ground and a weird couch made of fabric, I've never seen before.

It was a strange texture, almost like the weird fuzzy stuff in deer's antlers. My father called them velvet; was this the same thing? If so, that's a bit gross.

Despite this, I still caressed the couch; it was oddly comforting. Almost like you're patting a nearly hairless kitten. It switched from smooth to rough each time I ran my hands through it.

Then I remembered that we only had an hour to say goodbye to our loved ones before leaving for the Capitol. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in. I didn't want to cry at all; the cameras were trained on me. I'm sure the Capitol would eat my tears up.

The first people who came in were my mother and my brother. Kunal let out a sob as he ran towards me, practically throwing himself onto me. I hugged him, staying silent as he buried his face into my neck, afraid that if he let go, I would disappear.

But I needed to break it one way or another. "Mother," I called, my voice detached. Her green eyes met mine, her lips quivering. I gulped down my spit, taking another deep breath in. "Do you. . . Have any idea on how you'll support yourselves. . ?" I asked.

Her eyes landed on the thick, red carpet. "Not as of now," she answered grimly, "But Katniss' mother offered me some work at the apothecary,"

My arms around my brother tightened. Maybe Gale and Katniss could bring them some of the game as well, though I wouldn't count on it. Why would they help us when they have other things to worry about? It's not as if I could teach Nal how to hunt either. The boy's frightened by his own shadow.

All he's good for right now for picking flowers as much as I love him. A sigh escaped my lips, my chest falling slowly as the reality sunk in.

"Well, you must think of something," I told her, my brows furrowing. "I'm not going to come back; I won't be able to support you and—"

"No!" she barked, "No! You will come back, Y/n." she proclaimed, her eyes shaking. She clenched her, fists, "Swear that you will."

Bitterness rose within me. "Tell that to the Capitol, mother," I said coolly. "If I die, then I—." My words were cut short by the sobbing of my brother.

He sniffled, pulling away from my now wet neck. "You'll win, won't you?" he croaked, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his reaping clothes.

I felt my heart stop; what was I supposed to say to him? "No, Nal. I will surely die, don't count on it," a lump formed in my throat.

My eyes landed on my mother, who gave a stern look. It told me to lie, if not for her sake, then for my brother's. With shaky hands, I held my brother's shoulders. "I'll make it out; then we can— gather some flowers in Victor's village, yes?"

Nal nodded, hugging me once more. I took a deep breath before I started explaining what they should do. With mother possibly getting a job at the apothecary, perhaps they have a chance to survive, after all. Though I'm not sure, that's such a pleasant thought with the fact that I will die.

Soon enough, a Peacekeeper was at the door, telling them their time was up. I gave Nal a hard squeeze before pushing him off. My mother nodded at me; her strawberry blonde hair bounced as she did so. "I love you both,"

The words were stuck in my throat; I couldn't say them. Maybe it was because of my strained relationship with my mother or because I hated the fact that I had just given my brother a false sense of hope. I simply watched as they walked away, hand in hand.

Nal's watery blue eyes looked back at me one last time, a look of sadness. He knew I was lying. I sounded unconvinced when I told him. My posture slumped; I felt horrible. Our maker is siis merely, I suppose.

The next visitor was unexpected; Peeta's father, the baker. My gut churned; I was off to kill his son soon. Why has he come to visit me? Perhaps he has come to beg me not to kill his son? Not that I could either way, Peeta was stronger than me: it was clear as day.

He handed me a small piece of parchment. It was filled with warm cookies. A delicacy. He must've visited his son; after all, why would he just me cookies? I was about to die anyway; why feed a dead man?

I let out a huge breath, "How was the squirrel?" my voice pierced through the thick silence. He shrugged, "Alright," he answered. Then another wave of silence hit us. I sniffed awkwardly, the scent of fresh bread entering my lungs.

I couldn't think of anything to say. What was I supposed to do? ApoloApologisebe, but I never really liked apoloapologisingee no need to. If I'm sorry, then I'll show it. We sat in awkward silence before the Peacekeepers told him his time was up. He stood up, clearing his throat.

"I'll keep an eye on the little boy, make sure he's eating," He stated before leaving. I felt the pressure lift from my chest. They may not like me much, but Nal was practically an angel to them. An angel born in a family of rebels, I'm guessing, is their thoughts.

The next guest then entered. Madge. Her expression wasn't weepy nor evasive, nor did she wear that bright smile she always had when she was around me. It looked urgent. She walked straight to me, the urgency in her tone quite surprising, "They let you wear one thing from your district in the arena. One thing to remind you of home, will you wear this?" she holds out a circular gold pin that was on her dress earlier.

My brows furrowed, "Your pin?' I said. Does she really to die wearing rich-people-things? That hasn't even crossed my mind. . .

"I'll put it on your tunic, alright?" She said, not waiting for my answer as she leaned in and fixed the bird on my chest. "Promise me you'll wear it to the arena, Y/n. Promise me," She took my hand, her thumbs rubbing the back of my own.

Compared to Peeta's, hers was cold yet soft, almost as if she was nervous, worried. But why would she? I barely talk to her; she's the one who always strikes a conversation. All I do is nod and disagree at certain times.

She leaned closer to my face; I gave her an uncertain smile, pulling away. "Thank you, Madge," I muttered. She nodded, letting go of my hands. "Please, stay safe," her voice trembled as she rushed out of the room. I was left standing there, confused. What was that? Why did she visit me despite my rudeness earlier?

Next was Gale and Katniss. I didn't hesitate to hug both of them before pulling away with a sigh. "Hey, you'll be fine," Gale reassured, patting my shoulder. I stayed silent, only nodding. Katniss gave me a pity smile, "I'm sure it would be fairly easy to get knives, Y/n."

A sigh left my mouth, "I know— I just— Don't want to—" I stammered, making a stabbing motion with my hand. Gale gave me a pitied look, "It's just like hunting, Y/n. You're the best hunter we know," he said.

"They're not animals. They think; they're armed." I reasoned, my voice trembling. Why did I have to feel these emotions now? Maybe reality has finally settled in, the truth that I'll never see any of these faces again. On the off chance that I do, I'm sure they'll view me differently, a cold-blooded murderer.

"What's the difference, reale said grimly. Those words echoed in my head as they went away with the Peacekeepers. What is the difference? We're all just feral dogs forced to fight or cocks pit against each other.

I took a deep breath as I got called to ride a wagon to the train station. It was a relatively short ride. We never really had the luxury of these; we always had to travel by foot.

I silently thanked myself for not crying; there were insect-like cameras trained onto my face. Thankfully, I knew how to act, to bite my tongue. If I hadn't, I'd probably be screaming profanities. My eyes glanced onto the television screen; I look bored. Which, I surprisingly was.

It was as if my spirit left me already.

Peeta Mellark, on the other hand, had obviously been crying. However, he didn't even try to hide it, which was quite odd. Was this his strategy? To appear weak and vulnerable to assure the other tributes that he was no threat? This worked for a girl from district 7. Johanna Mason.

She seemed frightened, a cowardly fool that no one bothered about her until only a handful left. She then killed them all, with no problem whatsoever. I remember watching this game, quite shocked. She sold her act to me, but then again, maybe I'm just oblivious.

This worked for her because she looked frail, weak. Peeta applying this strategy was quite odd. Not only did he not look soft, but he was also jacked. He just looked like a big doofus. All those years having bread to eat and hauling trays made him physically capable.

Annoyance rose through me when we had to stand by the train's entrance while cameras gobbled out images up. I was sure I no longer looked bored but rather pissed. It wasn't like I was about to put on a pretty smile for them. These jester-dressed-worms should know how I feel.

Finally, we boarded, and the train began to move at once. The speed took my breath away. It was going faster than I could ever think of. The scenery around us just blurred—a mix of the neutral colour palette that made up District 12.

We were taught about coal in school. Some basic maths and reading before it circled back to coal again. Our district was used for coal mining, even hundreds of years ago.

Then there are the weekly lectures about the history of Panem, which never fails to annoy me. It's all blather about how we owe the Capitol because of the rebellion and whatnot.

I knew they're hiding something; we couldn't have lost that easily. I always think about this whenever I'm up in the trees, daydreaming, which is why I'm always the last one to arrive at the hill.

The tribute train was much fancier than the room at the Justice building. We were given our own rooms, a dressing area and private bathroom with cold and hot running water. We've never really had hot water readily available at home; we had to boil it.

Though I can't say, I like it, with all that effort I just end up not liking the bath. I much prefer the cold, flowing current of a river.

There are drawers filled with fine clothes, and Effie Trinket told me to do anything I want, wear anything I want, everything is at my disposal. Just be ready for supper in an hour. I peel off my father’s tunic and take a cold shower. I’ve never had a shower before. It’s like being in the rain, inky much tamer. I dress in a dark green shirt and pants, trying my hair to the usual, small pa

At the last minute, I remember Madge’s little gold pin. For the first time, I get a good look at it. It’s as if someone fashioned a small golden bird and then attached a ring around it. The bird is connected to the ring only by its wingtips. I suddenly recognise it—a Mockingjay.

Funny little birds, my favourite creature in the forests, that's for sure. These were a slap to the Capitol's face. They genetically altered animals as weapons. Muttations as we call them, or Mutts for short. One particular kind was a bird they labelled Jabberjay, able to memorise and repeat whole human conversations.

Homing birds, exclusively male that were released into regions where the Capitol’s enemies were known to be hiding. After the birds gathered words, they’d fly back to centres to be recorded. It took people a while to realise what was going on in the districts, how private conversations were being transmitted. Then, of course, the rebels fed the Capitol endless lies, and the joke was on it. So the centres were shut down, and the birds were abandoned to die off in the wild.

But they didn't die; instead, they mated with the female mocking birds and produced this weird species that can replicate both bird whistles and human melodies. They've lost the ability to enunciated words but could still mimic a range of human vocal cords.

My father used to sing them a lot. I guess he passed that habit down to me. Whenever I'm not doing anything, I find myself singing to the hummingbirds, who surprisingly listen and replicate my Father's song. It was a simple melody, made of 10 notes at least.

It warmed by heart, especially at times where I miss him. I smiled, fastening the pin to my shirt, the dark green as its background.

Effie came to collect me. I followed her through a narrow, rocking corridor into a dining room. There's a table where all the dishes are highly breakable. There waiting for us was Peeta Mellark, the chair beside him empty.

"Where's Haymitch?" Asked Effie Trinket brightly.

"Last time I saw him he said he was going to take a nap," said Peeta. "Well, it’s been an exhausting day," said Effie Trinket. I think she’s relieved by Haymitch’s absence, and who can blame her?

Food came in courses. Though I barely touched the carrot soup, the chocolate cake, lamb chops nor the mashed potatoes. I wasn't going to eat this, not from the Capitol.

My jaw clenched as Effie told me to eat up, smiling brightly at me. I gave her a pained smile, slowly taking a bite of the lamb on my plate before swallowing it roughly.

A swirl of guilt formed in my stomach, was I eating really this luxurious food whilst Nal and mother struggle? I sighed, digging my nails into my palms.

Peeta looked at me oddly as he stuffed his face, he nudged my side and nodded towards the food. I simply shook my head, pushing the plate away.

Effie put her lips together at my stubbornness. She was muttering something about having no manners.

We go to another compartment to watch the recap of the reapings across Panem. They try to stagger them throughout the day so a person could conceivably watch the whole thing live, but only people in the Capitol could really do that since none of them has to attend reapings themselves.

One by one, we see the other reapings, the names called, the volunteers stepping forward or, more often, not. We examine the faces of the kids who will be in our competition. A few stand out in my mind.

A monstrous boy who lunges forward to volunteer from District 2. A fox-faced girl with sleek red hair from District 5. A boy with a crippled foot from District 10. And most hauntingly, a twelve-year-old girl from District 11. She has dark brown skin and eyes, but other than that, she’s very like Nal in size and demeanour. Only when she mounts the stage and task for volunteers, all you can hear is the wind whistling through the decrepit buildings around her. There’s no one willing to take her place.

Last of all, District twelve. It showed Nal getting called and me volunteering. The commentators weren't sure about what to say regarding the silence. I only smirked at this, crossing my legs in amusement. Just in time, Haymitch fell from the stage, earning a comical groan from the commentators.

Peeta silently took his place on the stage; we shook hands and then just cut to the anthem.

Effie Trinket is disgruntled about the state her wig was in. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behaviour."

Unexpectedly, Peeta laughed. "He was drunk." He said. "He's drunk every year."

"Everyday," I added, finally breaking my silence streak with a smirk. Effie makes it sound kike Haymitch just had rough manners that could easily be dealt with.

"Yes," She hissed "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death!"

Just then, Haymitch staggers into the compartment. "I miss supper?" he slurred. Then he vomits all over the expensive carpet and falls in a mess.

"So laugh away!" said Effie Trinket. And so I did, I barked out mocking laughter as she hopped in her pointy shoes around the pool of vomit and fled the room.

Word count: 2974

Tags:

@nin3s

#hunger games x reader #hunger games #hunger games x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #peeta mellark x male reader #peeta mellark x reader #peetamellark #x male reader #gale #male x male reader

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leviskokoro · 4 years ago

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Beloved Master :: Chapter Two

desc :: in which rook shares his findings

word count :: 1332

notes :: i wanted to practice how i wrote in the perspective of different characters because my comfort zone is usually just writing in mari’s pov. i’d really really like feedback on how i wrote rook, vil, and crowley in this.

au belongs to :: @twstedforyou

Rook didn’t have to look up to figure out who was behind him. Those light rhythmic footsteps, the strawberry vanilla scent, and the breathing pattern belonged to none other than his favorite angel. A smile pulled at his lips and greeted her, turning his gaze to her for a better look at her form. He had been in the middle of fixing up the materials that he used for the Science Club when she approached him.

“Petit ange, how wonderful to see you here,” he spoke with a lilt. His hunter green irises scanned her figure, analysing every curve and dip. Her body was more tense as usual, her eyebrows were furrowed in worry, and her lips were pulled in a tight line. It only took him about a second to figure out what her concerns were.

“I see that Monsieur Heart has been on your mind lately. He must be a lucky man to have a lovely woman worrying for him.” His mirthful smile never left his face as he finished up cleaning up the materials in the lab.

Mari’s cheeks dusted a faint red and she averted her gaze. “I take it that you already know he’s been acting weird, correct?” She asked, trying to ignore his comment.

The hunter nodded, remembering how he observed her conversation with the Heartslabyul first year. His keen eye noticed that he seemed to be a different person. Parts of his personality were there, yet this one seemed a lot more mature than the one he was familiar with. His footsteps were a lot lighter than his usual. Plus, his scent wasn’t the one he usually had. He smelled like… a fox.

“Do you happen to know the reason why?” She tilted her head to the side. “Your eyes can see far more than mine do. I figured that you might’ve noticed something.”

He shook his head, blond hair swaying in the motion. “Your words flatter me, petit ange. But unfortunately, I do not know the reason.”

A frown pulled her lips downward and she looked down. “Ah, that’s a shame.”

But Rook placed a finger below her chin and lifted it so that their emerald and andalusite gazes would meet. “Don’t worry your gorgeous head, ma colombe. I’ll observe Monsieur Heart more closely to find the reason for your concerns.”

Mari opened her mouth to reply, a delighted glint in her eyes. But thenㅡ

The door opened, he heard two pairs of distinct footsteps, as well as new scents entering the mix. They belonged to the two first-years that always hung around Mari.

“Oi, Mari! You promised you’d play cards with us after club meeting,” Ace told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her form closer to his. His voice had a needy undertone to it. It was clear to the hunter that the orange-haired junior didn’t want her around him with how he glanced at him, the protective glint in his ruby eyes was clear as day.

“I… did?” Her mouth was agape when she looked at him. Then, she frowned. “Crap, I’m sorry. I must’ve forgotten.”

Ace sighed. “Sheesh, again? You’re lucky you have me looking out for you.”

“We wanted to play in Ramshackle Dorm this time,” Deuce spoke up, his fingers pressed to his chin.

Mari nodded. “That sounds good.” She turned to Rook with a smile. “Sorry to cut this conversation short. I’ll talk to you later.”

Rook returned the gesture, making a dramatic motion with his arms. “I’ll be eagerly awaiting for you, petit ange.”

She giggled and walked off with her friends to her dorm.

The hunter waited in the laboratory for a moment, before smirking.

Time to do field work.

Vil looked at his vice dorm leader with scrutiny. What he heard sounded too outrageous to be true. However, he trusted him to be honest with him, even if that honesty could sometimes be brutal. He remembered the time he just told him “You look fat”. Then he talked about it to Trey, who shared a story about their activity in the Science Club when he told the teacher that the first activity was boring and they ended up getting a much more difficult task, which gave their juniors a bit of trouble.

He sighed. How troublesome. “Make sure to inform the Headmaster about this.” Althoughㅡ it’s not like he’d be of much help, seeing as how he often dumps serious issues regarding the school onto the prefect and the other students.

“Oui, Roi du Poison.” Rook took his hat off, then placed it to his heart. An amused smile on his face. He went off, carrying his bow and arrows. The ones that he often used to send a message.

Vil did not want to get involved in thisㅡ but if what Rook was telling him was correct, then it’s only a matter of time before more of these doppelgangers will arrive. There’s a good chance their own doppelgangers may appear as well. If someone who looked exactly like him were to come to this world, there’s a chance he might ruin his image. He knew he could trust Rook to notice that the doppelganger wasn’t him.

After allㅡ his eyes were more accurate than any scale.

Lilac eyes gazed out the window, watching the night sky. For each star that twinkles, there was a new thought in his head; And each thought was occupied by that girl from another world. She had joined the Movie Appreciation Club as a scriptwriter after Rook had shown him some of her work. While she needed more confidence in herself, she was adapting quite splendidly to the environment of the club.

It’s strangeㅡ Vil didn’t think she’d be the sort that he’d associate himself with. Not really for the reason that she was terrible looking. In fact, she'd be considered quite decent in his eyesㅡ Only needed to remember to do self-care more often. It was more for the mere fact that she was the troublesome sort. She gained quite the reputation for getting into all sorts of trouble ever since she first arrived at Twisted Wonderland, and now this new situation involved her with how the doppelgangers seemed to speak of her, referring to her as their master for some reason.

As a busy man, he’d know better than to be around people that would make things harder for him. But as he came to know her, he realized it wasn’t her fault that these things kept happening to her. The girl just had awful luck, it seemed. He understood how it felt; Being unable to control the wretched fate that befell you.

He sighed, crossing his arms. “You’re just a magnet for trouble, aren’t you?”

Crowley’s concealed eyes scanned the documents on his desk. He’s finally gotten time to investigate more on ways that he could send Mari back home. She’d been bugging him about it for quite a while now, saying things like “I miss my family”. Really, the girl could stand to be more patient. At least he was gracious enough to be looking for her instead of making her do it all on her own.

He looked back down and noticed something interesting. A possible lead, perhaps?

Woosh!

Thunk!

“Eek!” He shrieked when an arrow hit the wooden space on his desk, just above the documents that he held. It felt as though his heart would jump out of his chest. Then, he realized that the arrow had a piece of paper attached to it. Gloved hands took the arrow from the desk and untied the letter from it, unfolding it. Eyes skimmed over the contents of it.

His jaw hit the floor at what he read before promptly picking it back up; he proceeded to grab his phone and call his prefect.

“Hello?”

“Yes, Mari. Where are you? There are these doppelgangers of Trappola and Spade. Be careful wit-”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“... What?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #dire crowley

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queenjunoking · 3 years ago

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Wolf Taming pt 47

CW: Noncon - Petplay - abuse

Eos didn’t say anything after I spoke. She turned around and walked me back out of the barn. Past all the women locked in their stalls. I could see some had checked out and were staring blankly ahead. I could hear some moaning as the machines were attached to their nipples.

One in particular stayed in my mind as I left the barn. A woman who wasn’t nearly as big as the others locked in the stalls. Her eyes were bright and aware. I could see her look at me as I walked by, begging for help. But there wasn’t anything I could do. I didn’t have a key to her contraption. I didn’t even have hands right now.

“I’m glad you decided to cooperate, Callidora.” Eos said as we made our way down the trail. “To be honest, I feel a little bad that I had to do that to get you to work with me, but I think you’ll find being a race horse will suit you perfectly. You might even enjoy it.”

I didn’t believe her for a second. She enjoyed every moment of what she did. But I bit my tongue. I wasn’t sure what was coming now and I didn’t want to get in trouble before finding out.

We finally exited the woods and the farm was busier than it had been. There were more ponies going from place to place. Some were pulling carts, others were working in teams, some were doing sprints on a track she could see in the distance.

“I have high hopes for you, Callidora. I’ve assigned only the best to be your personal handler.” Eos led her back into the barn and they walked up to a gathering of the black coated stablehands. When they noticed Eos they greeted her before scattering. All but one.

The one that remained was a strawberry blond woman. About average height and wirey. Based on what Eos said, this would be my handler. I couldn’t imagine listening to her in any other circumstance. If I didn’t let her do anything there was no way she could physically force me to obey.

She smiled at me as we approached her, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I was a bit surprised. They seemed sad.

“Good morning, Mistress Eos.” She stood up and bowed as we stopped in front of her.

“Good morning, Clarity. Callidora has come to her senses and decided she wants to be a racehorse.” She turned away from Clarity and looked at me. “Jude is in charge of the red coated stable hands. They work with the lesser ponies and newcomers. Clarity is in charge of the black coated stable hands which handle personal training of our best ponies. Not only is she in charge of all the black coated stable hands, she’ll be your personal handler.”

Eos handed the leash over to Clarity. She took it in one hand and with the other she reached up and stroked my face. “I’m glad you want to be a race horse, Callidora. I miss getting to work with ponies.”

I wanted to bite her. I hated her touching me. But all I could think about was what I had seen earlier. How much resistance were they going to tolerate from me before they decided to lock me in the cow barn? Was it one strike and I’m out? No, this would be the dumbest thing I could do right now.

“Well, I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure Clarity has already figured out a training regime for you, Callidora. I expect only the best.” Eos turned and waved, walking back out the way we came.

Once Eos was gone, Clarity held up a bottle of water, another smile on her lips that didn’t reach her eyes. “Would you like something to drink, Callidora?”

“No. Lets just… do whatever it is you want me to do so we can get it over with. Z, Eos, now you. I’m sure you won’t be different from the other members of your secret club.” Clarity laughed softly a bit when I said that and I felt my eyes narrow. “What’s so funny?”

Clarity turned, gave my lead a tug, and started to walk for a door at the other end of the barn. “I’m not a member, Callidora. I’m a slave. As are all the stablehands. Aside from Mistress Eos there are only one or two other members that are typically here, but they’re more for bookkeeping.”

What she was saying didn’t make any sense to her. Everyone here was a slave? Not only the ponies and cows. Not just the lesser stablehands. Even people like Clarity were slaves?

“Why?” It slipped out, I hadn’t even thought of a follow up but I had to say it.

Clarity stopped walking and tilted her head like a confused dog. “I’m not sure I understand. Why what?”

“You’re a slave? But… you’re helping Eos instead of us.” I was trying my best to push through my confusion. If the stablehands were all slaves, why didn’t they help us?

“Oh, Callidora. You’re so new to this world, I can’t blame you for being confused. But those aren’t questions for you to ask. I know what you wanted to ask and the implication of it is something things in your position can get horribly punished for.” I grit my teeth as she reached out and stroked my face again. “Consider this your one free pass, Callidora. There’s no reason for you to go down that line of thought. Just be a happy pony.”

I took a deep breath to calm myself before I tried a different question. “Then why are some of us animals while you get to be in charge?”

Clarity looked thoughtful as she considered my question. “Members decide who is meant to be what. You were meant to be a pony and I wasn’t. The cows you saw were meant to be cows. I have more freedom and am in a higher position of power because I can be trusted.”

I bit down on my tongue hard enough to taste blood. What she was saying was bullshit. They had one of the best athletes in the world in that barn. If she had to be taken, why wasn’t she doing what she was good at? Why wasn’t she out here running? Why would you take one of the best athletes in the world and just lock her away? What was the point?

“What makes you more trustable than any of the other slaves here?” I asked, staring daggers at her.

She laughed softly at my question. “I understand how this world works better than you ever will. Some members, like your previous owner Z, were regular people who obtained membership somehow. Others are born into the Society. My family were Society members, but everyone has to earn their place. When you know about the Society you either become a member or you become a slave. I was born into a Society family. Unfortunately, I didn’t have what it takes so I never obtained membership. Instead I was sold off and became a slave.”

I didn’t know what to say. I was stunned at the implication that people in the Society would just willingly give away their friends and family. Did they not care? Were they that callous? They didn’t just lack empathy for regular people, they were willing to send their own into slavery if they didn’t meet some arbitrary standard. Were there others who flunked out among the ponies and other lesser slaves, or were they all like Clarity and had power over them?

Clarity must have taken my silence to mean I was done with my questions. She turned around, tugged on my lead, and continued walking us to the entrance at the other side of the barn.

The sun felt nice on my skin. I was involuntarily grateful for the feeling. After being trapped in Z’s basement for who knows how long. I didn’t want to be grateful for something like this though, I should be able to feel the sun. It was something that I shouldn’t have to give gratitude to my kidnappers for feeling.

Clarity turned and walked down a dirt path. I could see a line of circular pens not too far away. She walked us past several of them, observing the ponies as she went. Most of the stablehands were shouting things at the ponies in the pens. Some were yelling at them to move faster, others to lift their knees higher. Some were told to keep their backs straight. The handlers were full of demands.

She finally stopped in front of one of the pens. Inside was a woman, only a little bit shorter than I was. She had white hair and blue eyes. All the gear on the ponies I had seen so far was black, but her was white leather with blue accents. The opposite was true for her boots, they were blue with white accents. She glanced at me when I was within her sight. But the blinders soon hid her eyes.

After watching her make a few circles Clarity tapped the stablehand on the shoulder. “I think Frosthoof has had enough of a warm up, Natalie. How about you go have her do a time trial this morning?”

I did what I could to stop myself from sighing. Of course they gave her a name like Frosthoof. I was starting to feel better about the stupid name they gave me if that was the alternative.

The stablehand nodded and pressed a button by the gate. The arm in the pen came to a stop and the woman stood there, waiting to see what happened next. “Sounds good, Clarity. She’s been needing to get new results in.” The stablehand went in and removed the woman from the machine. I could see that cords came off of the arm and attached to points on the shoulders.

I wasn’t sure if I was surprised or not when Natalie attached a lead to the sides of the bit in Frosthoof’s mouth instead of to the front of the harness like mine was. I found myself lucky to not have the bit in right now, but I could only assume I’d be led around like that when it was in.

Natalie left the door open as she led Frosthoof somewhere else. I wanted to see where she was going, but Clarity gave my lead a tug and pulled me into the pen. I watched her fiddle with the machine, getting it prepared for me. Every part of me was begging me to move. The gate was still open, I could try and run away.

Audrey’s image entered my mind as I considered running. That was what awaited me if I tried to run. Locked in a horrible rig, never to move again until my mind finally broke.

I stood still as Clarity grabbed the cords and moved to attach them to my harness. I heard the cords snap around the harness rings on my shoulder. It sounded like another nail in my coffin, I couldn’t run now.

“This is the first step in your training, Callidora.” Clarity vanished behind me. I was facing away from the entrance to the pen and the stupid blinders meant I couldn’t see her. I heard the machine suddenly make a few noises as it came to life, but it didn’t move yet. “Every pony is taught the correct way to walk. You’ll be learning several styles and when you aren’t racing or doing special activities you’ll be walking in one of these styles. A normal walk is off the table for you from now on.”

I bit my tongue again, flinching when my teeth found the sensitive spot from last time. I wasn’t going to ruin this. I was already locked in this thing. I had already suffered humiliation at Z’s hand. This wasn’t going to be any worse than that.

I decided I was going to listen and behave. If this is what I had to do to be a good pony then this is what I’d do. Being good meant I’d get a better room. More accommodations. Better food and I wouldn’t have to deal with Jude or be trained in the same style as the lesser ponies. They wanted me to be a race horse, so that’s what I was going to be.

Being good meant I’d have more energy and resources to dedicate to escaping.

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fullmarvelheart · 4 years ago

Text

Monsters & Pancakes

Pairing: Avengers x Enhanced!OFC

Word Count: 2,462

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and familial loss.

A/N: Welcome to Chapter 3! I hope you all enjoy the story as well as the characters! Image is not my own. All rights go to the original creator. Sorry this took so long to get out! I hope you enjoy reading it!

Series Masterlist

I slowly begin to wake and curl more into the couch. My body feels less heavy than it usually does, more alert. That alone has me feeling uneasy before I realize I'm on my couch... not my bed.

I shoot up in terror knowing fully well that he did something to me, that Loki made me pass out. Though, the fast movement throws me off balance and I end up tumbling to the floor. While pushing myself up with a groan, I hear hurried footsteps rush towards me on the floor.

"What in Odin's name are you doing on the floor?" He chides somewhere behind me.

"What did you do to me?" I sneer while turning towards his voice.

"Just a simple sleeping incantation." He tells me while nonchalantly crossing his arms.

"Why?" I growl while forcing myself to stand. He sighs while rolling his eyes.

"For one, I was brought, somehow, to this place, against my will might I add. So, my trust in you was not and is not very high. Another reason I kept you asleep, after I explored to make sure it was safe, was because it appeared that you needed it." He explains in a very frustrated tone. I take a deep breath.

"I guess we're even then." He looks at me curiously. "Both being kidnapped by the other..." I elaborate.

"Not quite..." He states while I cock an eyebrow. "Your name... I still do not know it."

I sigh while trying to run a hand through my very knotted dirty-blond hair.

"People call me 'Saddie'." I tell him while walking to my room to retrieve my brush.

"You didn't answer my question." He huffs.

"Yes, I did." The retort comes out more bitter than intended but I don't care to change it.

"I asked for your name, not a nickname. I told you my name without the added titles."

"'Of Asgard' isn't an added title?" He groans at the sarcastic remark while I carefully brush the wavy tresses.

"Your name?" He asks again, though annoyed.

I sigh, not wanting to say it out loud.

"No need to tell me, you just did." He chuckles darkly from the hallway.

"What?!" I yell.

"Don't worry, Sadira, I think it's a very unique name." I feel my face grow hot with anger and notice the lightbulbs starting to flicker.

I storm out of my room only to spot him standing frozen in the hallway, staring at the flickering bulbs.

"Do NOT use that name!" He turns around to face me quickly. "And stop reading my DAMN MIND!" I scream.

He holds his hands up in surrender.

"I give you my word, not to do that again." He tells me.

I scoff.

"I don't know if I believe you."

I brush past him and make my way to the kitchen. I haven't eaten since before I left for work, however long ago that was. As the thought of food crosses my mind, my stomach growls painfully and I resist the urge to groan because of it. God, I want something sweet.

As I begin to prep my meal. I see Loki leaning on the doorway, just observing.

"Do you want anything?" I ask, my head deep into the refrigerator.

"Sure." I hear in reply. "As long as you don't poison it." I half-chuckle.

"You never know..."

I begin to pull ingredients together and place them on the counter.

"Why did you teleport into the middle of the street?" I ask while focused on the food in front of me.

"Huh?"

"Well, you suddenly appear on Earth in the very early morning, looking very upset or unnerved for whatever reason, and then appear to want to blend in. Seeing as you're wearing... what do you call it... ah, Midgardian clothes, instead of what looked like a cape when I first saw you. It looks to me like you're on the run." I explain.

"You saw that?"

"I saw everything. The beam that brought you here and everything that followed until you spotted me." I say, while waving a spatula around as I talk.

"But why did you think I was on the run? Maybe you are yourself." My eyes snap up to meet his. "You have nothing personal in here. No pictures of family... friends, no images at all. Not even a plant." He pries while moving closer to me.

"Because I have none."

"What?"

"I have no friends or family." I growl while tightly gripping onto the spatula.

I move my eyes back onto the food I'm preparing in order to prevent the tears in my eyes from spilling. And I try so hard as to push them back.

"Now, are you on the run?" I ask through gritted teeth.

"In a sense... Yes. Are they actively looking for me? No. No harm will come to you because of it."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in at his explanation.

"Who are you hiding from?" He asks, carefully.

"Too many people to list." I chuckle darkly as I put the mixture into a pan. "Mainly HYDRA though. Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't been able to completely rid the world of them." I grumble.

"Ugh, S.H.I.E.L.D." He grunts with such distaste.

"I take it you've encountered them." I state while looking at him from the corner of my eye.

He hums in acknowledgement while I flip the item in the pan.

"Well I haven't, but I'm grateful for them nonetheless. If it wasn't for S.H.I.E.L.D, HYRDA would still have me. And I don't want to imagine the horrors that would come from that."

I begin to plate what I had prepared before washing and cutting up some strawberries.

"What is your favorite fruit?" I ask faintly.

"What?"

"Do you have a favorite fruit?" I ask again, though slightly annoyed.

"No, none that I know from Midgard." He says, very confused.

I hum while taking a can of whipped cream from the fridge.

After stacking two pancakes, I drizzle the cut strawberries on top before adding a spiral of whipped cream and a drizzle of maple syrup. I pass the finished plate to him along with a fork and knife before doing the same to my plate. I walk to the fridge and put all the ingredients away, but not before spraying some of the cream into my mouth.

I look back at Loki and notice he wears a disgusted expression.

"What? My house, my rules. And besides, it's for good luck." I defend while stabbing my fork into a piece of a pancake.

He scoffs but says nothing. I shake my head and continue eating. My thoughts begin to wander to all the events that occurred today, when I gasp.

Loki gives me a strange look as I run over to the living room and turn the TV on the first news station I find. The Q-Ship is still being played all over each network with the headlines reading "Attack on New York City". Various "experts" talk and give their predictions of what it means or what's going to happen. I scowl at the stupidity of those so-called "experts". The really have NO idea what the hell is going on.

Tony Stark's face shows up on the screen as the title reads "Missing". I hope that he's still alive, still in the fight. I know we'll need him. I mean, they'll need him.

Hpmh "we'll"...?

I am NOT getting involved in this anymore.

The image then changes to Cull Obsidian and Ebony Maw giving their oh-so nauseating "rejoice because of our presence" speech. I growl at their faces immediately causing the TV and the lights to begin to flicker.

"You know the Black Order." It's not a question but a statement. I turn to face Loki who has an uncertain look on his face.

I sigh, but say nothing to confirm or deny before looking back at the TV. What's the point? The answer is already known.

"Saddie... How do you know them?" He says inching closer to me. I can feel the spike of his heart-rate, I can feel his fear as if it was my own. Though, some of it is my own fear too.

"I guess that's who you're running from." I half-heartedly say with a chuckle. Though, I'm not even sure I'm correct.

"How do you know Thanos?" He asks slowly, cautiously, scared of a reaction. My reaction.

And he should be, because at the mention of his name, I begin to shake uncontrollably.

"Please... Please, don't. You don't want to know." I croak, shutting my eyes from the new tears in my eyes pushing to be set free.

Before either of us can do anything, the screen changes to "Possible Alien Attack in Scotland".

"Now why the hell would they go to Scotland?" I ponder out-loud with tears still rimming my eyes.

My eyes widen in slight fear before I pivot to face Loki.

"When was the last time you faced the Black Order?" I question quickly, harshly brushing off the lone tear that fell.

He flinches from my sudden actions, but remains silent.

"You're running from Thanos and his children. What happened to cause you to run?" I push because I need to know. If this is what I think it is, I'm not safe anymore, no one is.

Still there is silence...

"Tell me!" I scream at him.

His face scrunches briefly before he sighs.

"The day I arrived on Midgard. Ragnarok happened to my realm, Asgard. Me and my brother, Thor, we escaped with our people. Then Thanos arrived, he wanted the Tesseract. Inside was one of the six Infinity Stones. They're-"

"I know what they are. But did you just give one of the stones to him?! Why would you even consider that?!" It can't be the same Thor as... No, no it's just a similar name. Focus Saddie!

"I didn't! Not at first! He already had one! He had the Power Stone, and he had my brother! And he was torturing him for the stone! You have no idea what that's like. To bargain for the life of someone you care about!" His words send a dagger to my heart and I feel the burn of tears in my eyes again.

"I have every idea what that is like! That is why I have no family left!" I scream, the lights start flickering again.

Silence envelops the room again except for our raging breaths slowly calming down from our shouting.

"Balance... That's what he calls it. Where there is an entire population, Thanos will leave half. Two planets in a system, one remains untouched. Two siblings..." I trail off and only one tear rolls down my cheek. "You were the sibling that should have died... weren't you?" My voice soft with sadness and understanding.

He says nothing, he doesn't need to.

"You need to tell your brother you're alive." I say choking back a sob.

"What? I can not simply do that! You have no ide-"

"STOP SAYING THAT! I lost my twin sister because of that monster!" I scream. "I am in your brother's shoes. I mourn the loss of my sister everyday! I blame myself! He needs to know, he needs to know you're still alive!" The tears have been rolling in uncontrollable waves down my face before I inhale a deep breath and exhale, slowly willing myself to calm down.

"There are more Infinity Stones on Earth... That is the only possible explanation for his presence here." I reason while the tears slow.

I kneel down and extend my palm on the ground. Reaching my power outward, I let myself connect to the Earth. It's over-powering and extremely painful to do because of my limited practice, but I persist.

"What are you-"

I let myself slip into the feel of the world, the magnitude of power it possesses, but I feel it. One form of power that exists above all else on this planet. The only Infinity Stone on Earth. I gasp, call back my abilities, and fall backwards. The power surges, then every electric source in my house flickers to black. I sit in the dark silence as I still can feel the stone somewhere in New York, somewhere close by. The power goes back on and I turn to a stunned Loki.

Tapping into the city's power supply, I try to recharge my energy as quickly as I can before sitting up, and pushing past the annoying man in my living room.

"Where are you going?" He calls out as I throw the door open to my room.

"There's an Infinity Stone still on Earth. Either the Black Order, or Thanos will be there. I'm going." I tell him as I drag a chest from under my bed.

"What?! Are you mad?!"

"Possibly..." I mutter to him as I throw the lid open.

Possibly? Try undeniably!

Yeah, I'm so not getting involved in this... dammit.

Inside the chest various knives, daggers, and even my bo-staff lie waiting to be used. Most of the metals are specifically designed for me by the Mad Titan himself. Smiling to myself at the comfort my weapons bring, I use my power to throw Loki out of the room and shut the door. After locking it, I begin to change, but not into one of the garbs I wore while my sister was still alive.

Instead, I slip on the suit HYDRA had made for me before I escaped. It's a navy catsuit that almost resembles Black Widow's own one. I zip it up to my neck then pull on black lace-up boots and my black fingerless gloves. I arm myself to the teeth with several small knives, four daggers (the two largest, from my time with HYDRA, rest on my thighs), and the bo-staff that extends into my favorite duel-bladed weapon.

Sealing the chest back up and returning it under my bed, I unlock and open the door to which Loki stumbles in. Apparently, leaning on the door was smart. A very, very, smart idea indeed.

He scoffs at my thoughts when he regains his composure. Though, I recall telling him not to read my mind anymore, I have more important things to do than to yell at him. Instead, I settle for an eye roll.

Looking me up and down as I place my long hair into a high ponytail, his mouth hangs open as he stares. I ignore the goosebumps that erupt under his gaze. Wow, do I need more male interaction or what? Mentally chastising myself, I clear my throat, bringing his attention back to me, or to my eyes.

"Please don't do anything destructive while I'm gone." I practically beg before teleporting away.

Chapter 4

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my-miraculous-headcanons · 6 years ago

Note

Hey, can I have some of Adrien’s flirts from your #MarryThatGirl thing? It’s so good and I need more!!

Sure thing! Let’s start with something small. After all, Marinette will never be able to function again if she’s bombarded all at once, right? Haha.

Marinette wasn’t sure what, exactly, was going on today, but she definitely knew that something was up.

The day had started off like usual for her. And as usual, she had accidentally slept in and showed up to class 10 minutes late. Which would normally be no big deal, because Mme. Bustier would roll her eyes and send her to her seat, and Alya would then give her a short summary about what she missed, maybe with some added school gossip.

Strangely, however, Alya had said nothing when Marinette had taken her seat. In fact, the reporter was furiously scrolling through her phone, hidden under the desk, deleting videos!

Well, maybe that’s not too strange? After all, maybe Alya decided she should empty up some space on her phone in case for the next akuma battles?

… No, it’s definitely unusual. Alya always makes sure she has storage space in her phone before she even leaves home. Which means that this time, she’s expecting to video a lot more than an akuma battle. So the question is what?

As Mme. Bustier turns her back to the class to write something on the board, Marinette leans sideways into Alya’s space, not too far so she could seem casual. She gently prods her friend’s leg with a finger.

“Alya?”

She hums in response, not taking her eyes off her phone.

“What are you doing?”

Finally, she lifts her head up, glancing at the teacher’s back. She flashes Marinette a rather mischievous grin, which immediately sets the pigtailed girl on edge. Yeah, something is definitely up.

“Well,” Alya whispers. “A lot of things have been happening. For one, I found an interesting little sketchbook this morning kicked under the locker room benches.”

OH NO.

The forbidden sketchbook!!! Oh, for the love of Miraculous, she had been looking for that everywhere yesterday! She even tried to sneak back into the school after-hours to look for it, with no such luck. (Ironic, really. Aren’t ladybugs supposed to be lucky?)

Alya’s only ever seen bits and pieces of what’s inside, Marinette having been too embarrassed to ever show the full extent of her… more mushy fantasies. If Alya had taken a glance at its contents, she’s fairly sure she would die of humiliation at the spot.

If the reporter doesn’t tease her to death first, that is.

At the very least, however, no one else had apparently found it. If Alya, her best friend, looking through the book would kill her, imagine what would happen if Adrien had seen it? She’d spontaneously combust, taking the whole school down with her.

“I, gah,” Marinette silently splutters, cheeks quickly taking on a strawberry hue. Unfortunately, she’s not as quiet as she hoped, as both Mme. Bustier and Adrien glance back over their shoulders in her direction. Quickly, she sits up straight, faking attentiveness.

While the teacher drops it, Adrien’s gaze lingers longer. His eyebrows furrow in concern, but as he glances at Alya, his concern seems to melt away, and he smiles sweetly at her before turning back to the lesson. And damn, if that didn’t make her insides melt.

The conversation between the two friends completely dissolves as they both wait until class is over. As soon as the bell rings, and everyone is distracted with packing their backpacks, Alya stealthily shoves the precious forbidden sketchbook into Marinette’s arms, who promptly stuffs it into her bag, making shifty eyes at her surroundings.

Just as Marinette is about to turn and interrogate Alya about what she saw, Adrien completely encompasses her vision. He’s turned around in his seat, leaning heavily on her desk, grinning widely. She’s momentarily stunned by the brilliance that shines out of his expression.

Ladybugs fill her stomach. His happiness usually does that to her.

“Hey, Marinette,” he says, apparently deciding to completely ignore both Alya and Nino in favor of her. Seriously, her! “You’re looking a little pink today.”

Something in his expression shifts, but she’s too blinded already to pinpoint where the difference is. And also mortified that he’s apparently noticed her blushing.

“It really is your color. You should wear it more often.”

…

Marinette.exe has stopped working.

He’s— is he talking about her clothes? Or… No, he can’t be, but what if…

Was he talking about her blush?

Her heart exponentially speeds up, eyes widening and staring straight into his evergreen ones. He stares right back, even as he stands up and hoists his bag onto his shoulder. Slowly, he blinks, then turns away, making his way out the door, casually joining Nino as if he didn’t just—just…

Just what? What the hell just happened?!

She snaps back into reality at the feeling of Alya patting her shoulder. The classroom is empty.

“Come on, girl, we need to get to our next class, remember?”

Dazed, Marinette can only nod as she’s led— practically dragged, really— to their next class.

She doesn’t notice the way Alya smirks down at her phone screen as they walk, featuring a preview image of Adrien leaning into Marinette’s space at her desk.

She doesn’t notice Alya emailing the video to a certain blond.

#Maximilian Speaks #Miraculous Ladybug #ML #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Alya Césaire #Alya Cesaire #Adrienette #Adrinette #Nino Lahiffe #Marry That Girl #Maximilian's Writing #answered

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anti-pasto · 4 years ago

Note

for the 200 ask thingy, i actually dare you to do all of them. :D

delgaskarthalexhere we go, anon:

200: My crush’s name is: I don’t have one right now, I don’t get them often (if I ever had a crush at all)

199: I was born in: 2003

198: I am really: A 2005 emo kid x a 2008 scene kid x a 2014 tumblr fangirl x Kyle himself

197: My cellphone company is: Apple

194: My ring size is: Honestly? No idea. Propose to me with a sword.

193: My height is: Somewhere between 5′7″ and 5′8″

192: I am allergic to: Nothing I’m aware of

191: My 1st car was: 94 Station Wagon, by request

190: My 1st job was: being this funny is a full-time gig

189: Last book you read: Bone Gap by Laura Ruby

188: My bed is: “made”

187: My pet: I have a cat, I love her very much and I will show her to you if you dm me a cursed image

186: My best friend: We don’t use “best friend” for personal reasons, but they’ve been with me since I was 5 so, my one and only Bro

185: My favorite shampoo is: anything with “silky smooth” or “strawberries” on the bottle. i’m not that picky anymore.

184: Xbox or ps3: xbox or ps4 xbox

183: Piggy banks are: really useful

182: In my pockets: wallet, keys, phone, earbuds, black pen/pencil, earplugs, mini flashlight

181: On my calendar: i’m meeting a friend for smoothies tomorrow

180: Marriage is: something we shouldn’t push so much onto people. it’s a declaration of love, not an end-all fix-all to your life. i can’t ever see myself getting married but who knows!

179: Spongebob can: continue to be a relevant meme

178: My mom: i mean. we function. i can’t really complain about my family at large but i am defiantly looking forward to living literally as far away from them as i can.

177: The last three songs I bought were? psh, you think i pay for music? (folie a deux, lake effect kid, believers never die volume two) (those are albums but its okay)

176: Last YouTube video watched: I watched Markiplier play Uno

175: How many cousins do you have? 11? 12? I lost count

174: Do you have any siblings? I have a brother

173: Are your parents divorced? Nope!

172: Are you taller than your mom? Yes, I have been for a while

171: Do you play an instrument? dude HECK yeah! i vibe on piano, guitar, ukulele, clarinet, and im a drum major

170: What did you do yesterday? I went on a drive by myself.

[ I Believe In ]

169: Love at first sight: Nope.

168: Luck: Yes, but luck is something that can be engineered

167: Fate: To an extent

166: Yourself: I’d say overall, yeah. I still have doubts tho

165: Aliens: Mmmmmm yeah

164: Heaven: Yes

163: Hell: Yes

162: God: Yeup

161: Horoscopes: without an ounce of truth, they would have died a long time ago

160: Soul mates: the greeks had seven words for love. i think we have multiple soul mates to fit each of those categories. there are definitely people we’re just meant to vibe with

159: Ghosts: i want to say yes but i really dont know

158: Gay Marriage: yes. its 2020. grow up.

157: War: in theory? no. war is kinda messed up. in reality? not everyone is going to be down to nice diplomatic conflict resolution, and not everyone is just gonna leave people *countries* they don’t like alone, so...

156: Orbs: ??? energies are real

155: Magic: vibes are real

[ This or That ]

154: Hugs or Kisses: hugs

153: Drunk or High: i am a child of jesus

152: Phone or Online: online

151: Red heads or Black haired: irdc but black hair bc i am Emo

150: Blondes or Brunettes: blonde?? ig?? easier to dye

149: Hot or cold: hot weather + cold rooms

148: Summer or winter: summer

147: Autumn or Spring: autum (screw spring)

146: Chocolate or vanilla: vanilla

145: Night or Day: night

144: Oranges or Apples: oranges (better to share with homies)

143: Curly or Straight hair: i dont care but curly

142: McDonalds or Burger King: mcdonald give iced coffee

141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: dark chocolate

140: Mac or PC: pc for vidgya gaemes

139: Flip flops or high heals: ...converse. please. i cant walk properly in either of those

138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: sweet and poor

137: Coke or Pepsi: pepsi

136: Hillary or Obama: this is kinda outdated but obama

135: Burried or cremated: cremated i aint watch spn for nothin

134: Singing or Dancing: singing. at least that gets better with practice

133: Coach or Chanel: chanel (thank u mr frank ocean and also the neighborhood)

132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: whomst

131: Small town or Big city: big city and if you say small town you’ve never lived in a small town

130: Wal-Mart or Target: target

129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: who tf is this

128: Manicure or Pedicure: idk dude probably pedicure i don’t like people touching my hands and i use them for too much to get my nails done

127: East Coast or West Coast: hnngggggggg west coast has more to do but east coast has better beaches and

126: Your Birthday or Christmas: birthday

125: Chocolate or Flowers: chocolate bc then i can give u some

124: Disney or Six Flags: ive only been to disney so disney (though i AM a HARDCORE rollercoaster stan so it wouldnt take much for me to say six flags)

123: Yankees or Red Sox: what

[ Here’s What I Think About ]

122: War: unfortunately sometimes necessary but not as a first resort i went over this already

121: George Bush: is that the shoe guy?

120: Gay Marriage: be gay. do crime. kiss wife. or husband. or partner. basically, hell yeah

119: The presidential election: america need 2 b single and focus on herself

118: Abortion: pro-choice and that choice should be made by the one carrying the baby

117: MySpace: tumblr’s dad

116: Reality TV: don’t talk to about abt this

115: Parents: disgusting. go to therapy.

114: Back stabbers: if you’re gonna stab me in the back, pull my lungs through my ribcage bc that’s what my ancestor’s ghosts are gonna do to you (thanks great (x a few times) grandma viking ily thanks for the hair:) )

113: Ebay: good for merch and selling books

112: Facebook: zuck my dick, data-theif

111: Work: i like doing work? like- i enjoy completing tasks and seeing my hard work pay off? it’s not that bad?

110: My Neighbors: old. boring. want me to babysit for free.

109: Gas Prices: i cant really complain rn they’re kinda low and im a little broke so

108: Designer Clothes: i vibe to them, honestly

107: College: not for everyone but definitely for me

106: Sports: marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport marching band is a sport but only technically speaking though you can make fair comparisons to sports such as cheer, and gymnastics where the idea is to put on a show and receive a score in the form of competition.

105: My family: disgusting

104: The future: the future doesn’t exist

[ Last time I ]

103: Hugged someone: god, don’t ask me this

102: Last time you ate: uhhh like 9 hours ago? it was dinner and i had pizza

101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: three or four weeks ago by best bro came to visit and we vibed

100: Cried in front of someone: i finished twist and shout at school at the end of a very bad week. it was only a few tears but that’s as close as i get to crying

99: Went to a movie theater: whenever the last star wars movie came out

98: Took a vacation: last year i went to dc over summer break to see the Smithsonian, it was a lot of fun. i was supposed to go to altanta and florida this year but that didn’t happen for reasons

97: Swam in a pool: last week

96: Changed a diaper: never

95: Got my nails done: never

94: Went to a wedding: its been at least 6 years dude

93: Broke a bone: never, somehow

92: Got a peircing: nope

91: Broke the law: technically, yesterday. 55 is too slow

90: Texted: just now

[ MISC ]

89: Who makes you laugh the most: the person in my snap named “junior”

88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: my cat

87: The last movie I saw: probably into the spiderverse

86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: things going back to normal. or somewhat normal. i need school to have a schedule bc i absolutely cannot force myself to function without outside influence

85: The thing im not looking forward to: ironically, school in the fall. the way we’re going back is going to wreck me more than lockdown already has

84: People call me: i only ft one of my bros and they know who tf they are if you ask to ft you’re getting fuckin blocked mate i dont do that shit video calls are for WORK and SCHOOL thats IT. but ppl call me by my nickname irl, i go by screech on here.

83: The most difficult thing to do is: listen to my parent’s political opinions? live in a small town? force myself to be productive without a physical influence and reminder? put up with that one dude?

82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: nope

81: My zodiac sign is: scoprio/leo/gemini

80: The first person i talked to today was: the potential bassist for our potential band?

79: First time you had a crush: uhh im still not sure if it was a crush but i wanted them to myself and they wanted (and got) someone better. we were just friends so it doesn’t really matter

78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: the person on snap named “the great oracle”

77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: yesterday, it was my brother

76: Right now I am talking to: in order of snap names, “vibin ~[^.^]~”, “russian umbrella”, and “mom” (not really)

75: What are you going to do when you grow up: hopefully, a job that makes me happy

74: I have/will get a job: as soon as i know what’s going on with school. but like as an adult? wherever will hire me and pay my fairly. being a barista would be fun, but at a local place (not in my current town)

73: Tomorrow: ???? time for bad poetry: tomorrow i will see my friend/ admist this lasting chaos/ we will be each other’s solitude/ while sharing fruity drinks/ and when we both come home/ a smile we will bring

72: Today: idk what this means so more poetry: today i will be sleep deprived as always/ i will think of them and weep/ but no tears will fall from my eyes/ for i know there is a reason/ we went our own way

71: Next Summer: i fr dont know whats goin on so: next summer i will be/ as happy as can be/ because i will be in pain no longer/ the earth is sure to heal/ and i will heal with her/ so i can enjoy/ the heatwave of next summer

70: Next Weekend: next weekend i will spend/ my days wasting away/ maybe ill finish hannibal/ again/ not that serial killers make the dopamine stay/ i will not see my friends/ or talk to my family/ i will seldom eat/ and live off coffee/ this has been my life/ all quarintine/ god someone please help me

69: I have these pets: i have four cats, three chickens, and a dog

68: The worst sound in the world: my dad and grandpa talking

67: The person that makes me cry the most is: Them

66: People that make you happy: snap name time: the great oracle, junior, vibin ~[^.^]~, russian umbrella, mom, hero, booby-king 48, go to bed, son, pooper trooper, mac&cheese, plain egg biscuit, apple pie

65: Last time I cried: i dont cry bitch (last week over officals that cant make up they gottdamned mindes)

64: My friends are: my family and i would die for each and all of them

63: My computer is: an old hp but it play gaemes real good so it okie

62: My School: is trash but the band pops off

61: My Car: old, fast, clean

60: I lose all respect for people who: are my dad

59: The movie I cried at was: i cried over big hero six

58: Your hair color is: blonde

57: TV shows you watch: supernatural, good omens, hannibal, parks and rec

56: Favorite web site: this hellsite or youtube

55: Your dream vacation: out of the country with beautiful beaches, amazing food, and my best friend

54: The worst pain I was ever in was: the time i split the back of my head open, the time i split my chin open, and the time my then best friend said they didn’t want to talk to me anymore. i’ll let you guess which one hurt the most and which one i think about every fucking day

53: How do you like your steak cooked: medium or medium well.

52: My room is: clean and a reflection of myself, or so i’ve been told

51: My favorite celebrity is: i do not engage in celebrity worship. ill follow them and reblog gifs/interviews but i dont really have a favorite. the less i know abt them the better.

50: Where would you like to be: my own apartment in nyc

49: Do you want children: FUCK THEM KIDS BRO

48: Ever been in love: i dont know if it was love. i dont know if it was a crush. what i do know id that i was attached and they didn’t feel the same, and why would they?

47: Who’s your best friend: we dont really use best friend bc but “the great oracle” “junior” and “vibin ~[^.^]~”

46: More guy friends or girl friends: its 50/50

45: One thing that makes you feel great is: goin fast, the beach, playin video games

44: One person that you wish you could see right now: them

43: Do you have a 5 year plan: go to college, earn degree

42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: commit arson

41: Have you pre-named your children: FUCK. THEM. KIDS. BRO.

40: Last person I got mad at: they do not understand that they do not know everything about something they’re not even involved in yet

39: I would like to move to: new zealand

38: I wish I was a professional: artist? musican? youtuber? who knows

[ My Favorites ]

37: Candy: nerds

36: Vehicle: 1970 mustang gt

35: President: jfk only bc his assassination is the only good thing abt american history the rest of it is fucked up and shouldn’t have happened. also jfk’s song in assassians the musical goes hard

34: State visited: california

33: Cellphone provider: verizon? apple? idfk

32: Athlete: what is sport

31: Actor: i don't watch shows or movies

30: Actress: i do not consume media

29: Singer: alex gaskarth or alexander deleon

28: Band: fall out boy

27: Clothing store: hot topic (i will not apologize)

26: Grocery store: okay harris teeter fucks but lidil’s has aloe vera juice and target at 9 pm energy so idk man

25: TV show: supernatural...

24: Movie: big hero 6

23: Website: tumblr or youtube

22: Animal: snow leopard

21: Theme park: busch gardens bc roller coaster go fast

20: Holiday: christmas

19: Sport to watch: snowboarding bc its like skateboarding but on snow

18: Sport to play: anything with havy footwork (marching band is a sport)

17: Magazine: i do not condume media

16: Book: the ranger’s apprentice series as a whole makes up my all-time one favorite book

15: Day of the week: friday bc its game day baybey

14: Beach: cocoa beach in florida but also i have so much left to experience

13: Concert attended: i havent been to any notable gigs but i was supposed to go to hella mega

12: Thing to cook: pancakes

11: Food: pizza or shushi

10: Restaurant: chiplote

9: Radio station: i like my local rock station and my local edm/top 40 station

8: Yankee candle scent: anything smoky or vanilla idc

7: Perfume: chanel no. 5 if i even wear it

6: Flower: Hydrangea

5: Color: orange

4: Talk show host: cecil palmer

3: Comedian: john maulaney

2: Dog breed: yes

1: Did you answer all these truthfully? ;)

That was a trip. But it was fun, please do things like this more often. Also, I don’t consume media by choice. I’m not sheltered I just can’t be bothered, and I have enough going on. That being said I will now be sleeping. Thanks again, Anon, I hope you have fun reading this :D

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caffeinated-chaos-bean · 4 years ago

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Blog Update!!

Helloooooooooo!!!

Amidst all the fire and choking smoke, I have been doing some changes to the blog!

For those using the desktop version of tumblr, I have added paged for each character that is featured on this blog so far. I do plan to add two more on in the future, but it’s almost 9pm here in California and I do work at 7am lol, so no more working on the blog for tonight.

Also for desktop users, I’ve changed the theme entirely from what it used to be. I unfortunately cannot change the post background color, and as such it is in striking white. However, despite this, hopefully new pictures posted in the future will no longer be super duper teeny tiny in the permalinks. I had the same theme as @strawberry-metal and so I had the same permalink issue as she did. Hopefully this is going to be fixed as we move forward.

There alsom for both desktop and mobile users, a new header image. Its an older piece of mine when I was still using my old, old version of Alice (the blonde). The other girls are Naomi, Kazeko, and Shanna. Kikumi is in the center.

I also added a music bar with a new playlist and look to give you all something to listen to when browsing and sending in your asks. It’s mainly Sailor Moon music.

I also have links up top for you desktop users that will send you to my two other blogs as well as my youtube channel.

And a side note regarding why Kikumi has TWO pages listed for you to read: One is for her CANON story, while the other (titled JJBA: Kikumi) is for the alternate universe version of her.

I hope that you all have a wonderful night!!

#blog updates #admin post #mun speaks #mun #admin #mun post #huge update amidst fires

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maxmcyfield · 4 years ago

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Fans freak out over Tristan Falkenrath’s super cute Instagram stories of MINZY! ( + Comeback Speculation? )

by Sarah Lou / August 15, 2020 1:09PM @officialbubblegumb-tch

Lovebirds alert! Fans of everyone’s favorite rockband, Permafrost, went ham over a number of Instagram stories posted by the frontman, Tristan Falkenrath yesterday. In particular, three that featured bandmate and girlfriend, Minji Farell.

The first one, posted in the morning, showed the back of Minji’s head picking out snacks with the second one posted not too long after that, with her pushing the cart full of things in what can be assumed to be the carpark. (A grocery date, how cute!) The last one came in the evening, the guitarist looking off into the distance in a lowlit romantic setting.

One fan on Twitter, @/temporaryburning, noted: “gUYS THEY’RE SO DOMESTIC OH MY GOD HOW SOFT ARE THESE PICTURES 😭🥺” with the images attached, gaining over 80,000 likes.

Another fan, @/rockyjmsns, gained a hefty 10,000 retweets when they jokingly tweeted: “ok this isn’t fair when are we getting the levi & dinesh date pictures @/permafrost wHEN!!”

One other tweet that became popular was from @/wheremonochadsbeen who said: “i can’t decide who i wanna be more: tristan, in love and getting to see his gf pick up stroop waffles, or minji, picking up the stroop waffles and also in love”

Since Tristan’s famously emotional acceptance speech at the GRAMMY’s where he announced their rumored relationship to be true, their fans have been adamantly supportive of the couple with every little breadcrumb they get of them.

While not particularly open with their displays of affection (and unsurprisingly so), there have been glimpses of the sweet couple especially on social media, whether it be their own accounts or family & friend’s ones.

The last time an uproar like this sparked was sparked was when fans noticed the couple cuddled up on a couch in the background of a couple of Instagram stories from band mates Levi Zapata and Dinesh Malik while in the studio in March, and then before that, a rare birthday post for Tristan’s 29th birthday on Minzy’s account in February.

It was said by sources in July that they had been living together for at least a couple of months, Tristan reportedly moving in to Minzy’s home, but keen observers noted that Tristan seemed to have stuck around in the MNZY residence as early as late 2019.

This all only served to strengthen the #MinTan ship movement within and outside the fandom.

HOWEVER, that’s not the only cause of the uproar from Permafrost fans when these pictures went up!

The recent hair switch up from Minzy’s classic black to strawberry blonde have many speculating profusely that the band’s comeback may be closer than it was ever before!

While they didn’t have much else to go off of, it can be noted that changing up hairstyles is a big indicator for a new era of music for any artists.

Nothing has been confirmed from the band or the label despite Dinesh Malik joining the band officially as their drummer late in 2019, but fans are desperately waiting for a new record since their last one - Darker Now - was released 5 years ago in 2015.

Unfortunately, according to Levi Zapata when asked by paparazzi in June about a new album, all he replied with was “I have no idea what you’re talking about”.

#anom #minji #o:tristan #minji x tristan #otp:and then we happened #mine*

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saltpepperbeard · 6 years ago

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Not Her ~An Everlark One-Shot~

A/N: Hello everyone! *hUNGER GAMES INTENSIFIES* am I right? I’m so happy for the Re-Read that’s taking place, because not only is it getting me furiously posting about THG again, but it brought back my quite dead writing motivation! I was reading chapter two, had a, “Okay but what must have this person been experiencing” kind of thought, followed by the instant urge to write it. So here we thankfully are lol!

I’m probably a tad rusty, but I really did want to write a different take on the Reaping Day. I’ve always wondered what things would be like from a certain someone’s point of view after all! So with that being said, I hope you all like it!

And with further adoooooooo...

Not Her

It’s the day everyone in this District dreads again.

The one where families are torn apart for a sick spectator sport. The one where children are torn crying from their mothers, knowing what horrible fate awaits them. The one where loved ones are officially lost to the Capitol.

Reaping Day.

I clench and unclench my jaw, silently filing in after all the other boys my age. The tension in the air is high, as usual. We’re not a District to valiantly offer volunteers, or boast our Tributes’ strengths. We’re a group of reluctant individuals, with many being fearful, silently praying that their name, or their loved one’s name, isn’t the one to be called.

I’m in the latter half of that group. My name being plucked from the large, glass bowl wouldn’t trigger any tears, from me or my family for that matter. There’s a slight sinking in my stomach as I imagine it, yes, but ultimately it wouldn’t hurt as much as others. My family would get on. The District would get on. And maybe it’d be a sick way to spare me from my current way of life.

I’m more concerned about my brother, concerned about Rye. I wouldn’t want to see him on that stage, awaiting pain, awaiting death. I wouldn’t want to see anyone I love subjected to that. Having to helplessly watch as someone close to me suffers has to be one of my worst fears.

A heavy breath rolls out of my mouth, my attention zoning out as the typical string of events unfolds. The mayor talks about the past of Panem, the history of the Games, and the reasons we should be thankful for them. It makes me sick to my stomach, the notion of being appreciative of murder, appreciative of suffering, appreciative of torture. So naturally, my attention goes elsewhere.

It doesn’t really come back until our District’s sole-surviving Victor, or our District’s Infamous Drunk rather, makes his grand entrance on stage. I let out a sigh as he leaves a path of chaos in his wake, but I cannot deny the slight ache in my chest. That insanity could be someone’s fate today. Or worse, far worse.

Another interesting character, Effie Trinket, attempts to hurry things along, continuing to try and make this some kind of grand spectacle. It’s ladies first as usual, and despite not really having anyone close to me per say, I find that I’m holding my breath.

When the name is uttered, I’m relieved for a split second, and then utterly devastated in the next.

“Primrose Everdeen.”

My throat locks up, with my entire body to follow. I almost feel a bit woozy, my head spinning at the image of a small, frail, blonde girl reluctantly emerging from the crowd.

I know her. Almost too well for never really formally meeting her. I can see her passing by our Bakery in the morning, completely carefree and casting light as she goes. I can see the way her gaze sparkles as she eyes the displays in the window, eagerly running up to get a better look. And I can see her turning around, excitedly pointing at the various cookies and cakes to the person who’s always with her...

“Prim!”

As unfortunate as it is to say, I should be familiar with that shrill, desperate cry. The sound of a person getting their family member torn away from them at the Reaping, a haunting, eerie noise that’s something of normalcy every year.

But it’s from her. She’s in pain. Her sister is going to the Arena. And I can’t protect them, can’t comfort her.

I can feel myself shaking, small beads of sweat forming atop my skin. I don’t even know her. I don’t know either of them. But at the same time, I feel like I do. I’ve seen them both for so long. My heart has followed the one for as long as I know, which means I’m naturally protective of the other as well.

It’s almost like I can feel her anguish, like my little sister is up there.

Mentally, I wrap my arms around her, holding her as tightly and warmly as I can manage. Even if I really could, I know there wouldn’t be enough love in the world to comfort her in this. But God, would I try. I’d want nothing more than to try and keep her lifted out of the darkness the Capitol tries so desperately to inflict upon us.

“Prim!”

Tears spring into my eyes, my heart clenching something terrible. I watch as she emerges from the crowd as well, darting after her sister. I wish I could be there alongside of her too, offering all the support and help I could possibly muster. But I can’t. I’m always doomed to watch from the sidelines, doomed to watch as things unfold.

And unfold they do.

“I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”

Everything stops. My world completely stops.

My heart stutters to a grinding halt. A noise of anguish poised on my tongue gets jammed in my throat. The tears I had been fighting against have no choice but to fall.

No. Not her.

It’s my nightmare. My absolute worst nightmare come to life. I always knew there was a very small possibility of this happening, a very grim chance of this unfurling before my very eyes. But nothing could have actually prepared me for it happening. No matter how many times I see them per night, the bad dreams are nothing compared to reality.

The light goes dark, and sounds go muffled. I can see some slight, desperate movement near the stage, and hear a scuffle of activity, but I can hardly pay attention. I can hardly focus on anything other than trying not to collapse right here and now, to collapse completely in on myself.

I don’t know her. I never got to know her. I didn’t get to tell her how beautiful I think she is, how her eyes remind me of a strong, captivating summer storm. I didn’t get to tell her how I want to protect her and her family for the rest of my days, to ensure they never have to go hungry ever again.

I never got to tell her how much I utterly adore her, how much I love her to the ends of the Earth.

And when she goes on stage, when she utters her name, the reminder makes a shaky, sobbing-like breath croak from my lungs.

Katniss Everdeen.

Not her. Not her. Not her.

Somewhere in the middle of my woes, I can faintly hear Effie Trinket trying to get our solemn District excited, trying to get our District to roar with thunderous applause.

But in true fashion, much to my utmost relief and yet utter dread, they don’t. Everyone remains ghostly silent, before kissing three fingers and raising them high into the sky. It’s a gesture of complete admiration, but also a way of saying goodbye.

I can’t bring myself to do it. Because no matter how much I utterly adore her, I cannot bring myself to say goodbye. Especially without giving the slightest “hello.”

I simply hang my head, fiercely wiping the tears away, clenching both my eyes and jaw. I wish I could reveal my gaze and be free from this, be in a completely different world where I’m waking up to light, waking up to her.

But I’m not. The awful world I’m in continues on.

I can hear the loud clicking of Effie’s heels as she walks from one side of the stage to the other. I wipe the last of my tears away, sighing harshly and attempting to get myself under some semblance of control. I just hope whoever gets reaped can work together with Katniss, and protect her with his life.

The odds must be somewhat in my favor, albeit in a messed up, twisted kind of way.

Because the name that’s called, the paper that’s raised into the air, sends me through a torrent of feeling.

My first emotion, by complete instinct, is shock, my head jolting upwards and my mouth hanging agape. I can feel everyone who’s in close proximity staring at me, their faces either wearing sorrow or some kind of weird relief. And after I’ve recovered from the initial blow, the initial realization that I’m going to the Hunger Games, the thoughts that follow are what give me the strength to walk towards the stage.

Katniss.

I’m going to be with Katniss in the arena.

Not getting to know her doesn’t seem as devastating anymore. Because now I’ll get to die knowing I protected her, knowing I gave absolutely everything to keep her alive. And that’s all I could possibly want. To make sure I gave my all in ensuring her safety.

Maybe she doesn’t need me. Maybe she can get by just fine on her own. I’ve heard about the way she shoots, heard her way of fighting is silent and elegant. It’d be just one other person who wouldn’t be affected by my presence or lack of thereof; my family certainly isn’t.

But that won’t stop me from trying. That won’t stop me from giving myself to her like I’ve tried to all these years. I am hers and no one else’s. My life is insignificant next to hers.

I finally mount the stage, and in seeing her so close, in getting to properly look at her, it locks my sole purpose in these Games completely into place.

I move to stand parallel to her. Before I do though, I give myself a brief opportunity to look at her. To really look at her. To look at her how I would every day if I was blessed enough to actually be with her.

Her beauty absolutely takes my breath away. It always has. Though her face is hard, completely taut with emotion, she’s gorgeous. Her hair looks softer than the dandelion puffs dotting the District. Her eyes look shinier than the sun dancing off the lake’s surface. Her lips look plumper than the strawberries growing in the forest.

I don’t think I could ever capture such beauty in one of my paintings, or ever truly put it into words. She’s utterly exquisite.

I don’t stare, being quick to tear my gaze away and look straight ahead, out into the crowd. Now really is not the time to dote on her anyway. I can’t afford to get anymore attached than I am now. Now is the time to start planning how I’m going to keep her alive.

As the mayor talks more about the Games, my mind is aflame with possibilities, with different scenarios. I think of how I can keep others away from her, how I can potentially side with her, how I can guard her from anyone who might come near...

My thoughts are cut short by Effie yet again, though this time she actually says something significant to me for once.

“Alright you two, shake hands!”

My head turns towards Katniss as hers turns towards mine, our eyes meeting and locking for the first time in...years. Her gaze is just as mesmerizing as it was the first time I held it, just as captivating. And just like last time, I silently tell her I’m going to protect her. I silently tell her that I will take a beating for her. I silently tell her that I love her.

And to prove it, to seal the deal, I put all the warmth I can manage into our handshake, squeezing her hand tenderly with the figurative promise of never letting go.

The odds may not be fully in my favor during the Games, but hopefully now the opposite can be said for her.

And once we turn to be beckoned into the building behind us, away from our District, my life is hers.

#Everlark #Everlark fanfiction #Peeta Mellark #Katniss Everdeen #thg #Peeta's POV #also i don't think this fits the toastedthg tag but hey the re-read iS INDEED WHAT SPARKED THIS lol #Because I was reading the reaping and was like #'Lord what must have Peeta felt when Katniss voluntee-......WAIT'#Love me a good opportunity for some angst and yearning lmao #MY AESTHETIC IF YOU ASK ME #A GOOD TIME #Also Peeta's POV is a Good Time in general #Mr. Angsty Eloquent Loving Boi #lmao just when you guys thought 'hmmm jodi's really out here posting a ton of thg'#LMAO BET HERE'S A FANFIC ON TOP OF MY META AND EDITS #WE OUT HERE

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ginny-chase-shadeslayer · 5 years ago

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Sleeping at Last - Saturn

I think it was a few months ago in calc class when I first came up with this, but it’s the corona house arrest that’s finally making me post it.

Stay safe everyone, and have some more Percy angst.

Find it on FanFiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13517771/1/Sleeping-at-Last

“I’d give anything to hear, you say it one more time, that the universe was made, just to be seen by my eyes”

________________________________________________________________

He couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, the darkness reminded him of that pit and the pain of having to live through it. Sometimes Annabeth’s presence next to him helped, but tonight, she wasn’t with him. The sad truth was that as much as they helped each other heal their wounds, they also reminded each other of what they had been through. For the better part of eight days now, Percy was faced with the heartbreaking pain of choosing between seeing her and either being comforted or being triggered into a panic attack.

As much as he loved her, it hurt to be around her. He was being unfair he knew, expecting her to be the same as before, when he himself was only a shell of a man. But watching Annabeth shiver or snip and snarl at everything, only pushed him deeper still.

The argument that had resulted from that was vicious, and had left more than just the participants shaken.

Sitting up after an unsuccessful attempt at sleeping, he got out of bed and reached for Riptide. The weight of his loyal blade grounded him, pulling him towards the arenas.

…

THWACK!

There rolled the head, cleanly sliced off from the body.

Another strike. There were the disemboweled guts of a straw man.

It wasn’t enough. No matter how much he stabbed and slashed, it never helped abate the darkness. Riptide would cut through the clouds for a second, a shining streak of bronze. But then they would gather back faster than before.

It wasn’t long until Percy was panting, harder than he should have been. Taking shorter breaths than he should have been.

He tried blinking back the images. But the arena began to transform. He attacked a dummy viciously, face screwing up in determination, trying to fight back, but in vain.

Akhlys was laughing. Annabeth was crying his name. Bob was yelling for him, while Damasen tried to pull his sword out of the dragon’s mouth.

And Percy? He was on the floor. Staring at them from behind an impenetrable curtain. It took him some time to realize he was under water. He was looking at them from the bottom of a lake. He pounded the surface, trying desperately to break free. Even under water, he could taste the sulphurous air on his tongue as it burned his mouth, along with something more metallic. Every breath he took his poisoned his lungs, as if the water itself had turned into acid.

He heard Akhlys whispering as if she were next to him, “You killed me using your father’s powers. Here. See if they protect you now.”

His lungs began to fill. He was drowning. No, he couldn’t drown, he was the son of Poseidon. He choked and sputtered. But that only made it worse.

In front of him, Annabeth had gone blind again, and was desperately trying to call out to him through horrible coughing fits. She had her back turned to Damasen, and through his fading view, Percy saw Damasen yank his sword out from the Dragon and raise it against Annabeth.

Percy fought like a demon against the water then. He tried to control his breathing, but the water wouldn’t let go of him. He had to get to Annabeth. He had to. He swung his sword left and right, trying to fight the element that had protected him all his life. His eyes streamed, and he cried his voice hoarse. He swung his sword with all his might against the water –

CLANG!

His sword hit metal. But he couldn’t see where it came from.

The scene in front of him stilled. Annabeth had her face away from him, and Damasen still had his sword raised, so he hadn’t stabbed her yet.

A low voice from somewhere near him said, “Percy, snap out of it. It’s not real”

Slowly, the mist from his eyes cleared, and he realized he was on his haunches. His throat was raw. Riptide was still gripped under his white knuckles, as if the blade could cure his visions.

“Get up.” She ordered him. She didn’t hold out a hand, so Percy braced himself against the ground and heaved himself to a standing position. He regarded her cautiously, still trying to figure out if she was real or not.

“Do you still have the energy to fight? Because we need those dummies for practice tomorrow.”

Percy was weak, he needed a good night’s rest. His face still stung under the tear tracks. He wiped his nose, and glimpsed a streak of red on the blue of his shirt.

He nodded.

Clarisse raised her sword and swung at him.

Percy parried the strike, and his senses sharpened. He experimentally stabbed at her stomach. She easily dodged that, and returned with a blow of her own.

Slowly, they picked up the pace. Percy went from autopilot to actually focusing on the fight. He noticed that in the time he had been missing, Clarisse had gotten better at the sword. Or he had gotten worse.

He also noticed that Clarisse wasn’t really trying to fight him exactly. It was more like…leading him somewhere. He saw some mistakes in his technique that she could have taken advantage of, but she still let him move to the next position without taking the chance. Almost as if she were listening to him, to what his sword had to say, to what his tired body had to say. He had never heard of swordplay that was meant to be caring, and least of all, he didn’t expect Clarisse to know it.

He let his body go, slowly, but surely. Getting into the flow of their blades. They picked up the pace further, but that only calmed him more. This was sword fighting, it was something he knew. He was in control. In that moment, he was a blur of bronze, pouring his frustrations out into his weapon.

And Clarisse let him. In that moment, he had never felt so rested.

But when the deadly dance took him towards the armoury, a draught of wind transported the smell of gun powder, and with it, Sulphur. His eyes darted to the torchlight bouncing off her sword, flickering against the beams and columns, creating shadows that hadn’t been there a second before.

This time, there was nothing he could do. His mental shields had been down, and he had been too focused on Clarisse to notice the signs. The visions were brutal, as they were every time he thought he had finally evaded them.

He crumpled.

…

He found himself near the stairs of the arena, sitting up with his back propped against a pillar. He didn’t remember what he had seen this time, and he definitely didn’t remember losing consciousness.

“It’s going to take some time”

He was surprised to see Clarisse still there. She was sitting on the stairs next to him.

“What?”

“Your blackouts, your hallucinations. It’s going to take some time to get better.”

He stayed silent. Not ready to talk yet. Not ready to accept that he was not getting better, despite Chiron’s healing and Grover’s magic.

As if reading his mind, “Chiron’s ambrosia only works temporarily, and only on the physical pain you feel. Unfortunately, the Greeks either never thought about healing the head, or they never lived long enough to experience PTSD.”

“How do you know so much about this?” he asked, curious.

He had never expected Clarisse of all people to be sympathetic to trauma, especially not like the one he was experiencing. But if he was being honest with himself, he was grateful for her presence. Her familiar scowl surprisingly reminded him of life before Tartarus, and it comforted him. And he didn’t think he was ready to be alone just yet.

Clarisse just sighed. “Ares is the god of war, right? You want to go conquer a land, fight a battle, you make sacrifices to Ares and hope he favors you enough to let you win. At least that’s only how the Greek civilization chose to see Ares, and it stuck.”

She paused.

“But over the years, Ares has come to represent all battles, all wars.”

She looked at him knowingly, “including internal ones.”

They were quiet after that, watching the sun rise over the Long Island Sound. ‘It makes sense’, thought Percy. Although he berated himself for letting his guard down, he had to admit that dueling with her had felt good. Better than he had felt in a long time.

Finally, he asked, “that sword fighting technique, where’d you learn that?”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t have to learn anything, punk. I’m a daughter of Ares, sword fighting techniques are instinct to me.”

He smiled lightly and conceded. Understood.

The dew on the strawberry fields glittered in the morning light. The Apollo cabin, naturally the first to wake up, began to stir, while the dryads in the forest softly greeted the earliest songbirds. Watching the life below him, he felt like he should have had some poetic internal dialogue about permanence and the transience of life. Or at least some epiphany prompted by the sun’s rays through the clouds.

But in that moment, he simply reveled in the fact that there were beautiful things still left in the world, outside his head. Like the tugging of his heart at the sight of a familiar blonde head that emerged from the cabins below, and the warmth of a friendship, reaching out from the person seated next to him.

________________________________________________________________

“How rare and beautiful it is, that we exist”

The title of this fic is from the song Saturn, by artist Sleeping at Last. They’re amazing you guys should go check it out if you haven’t already!

Also, I haven’t personally dealt with PTSD, but I know that different people deal with / experience it in different ways. Nothing I’ve written here is meant to be harmful in any way.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo fanfiction #percy jackson fanfiction #percy #clarisse #annabeth #this is only my second post don't kill me #sleeping at last #saturn #fanfiction

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yellowcanna · 5 years ago

Text

Two Sides, Same Coin

Summary: Since the beginning of Quirks, Yokohama has announced independence from Japan and closed itself from the rest of the world.

To this day and age, no one knows what lies within the city of Yokohama—or that was what the public was made to believe. In reality, Yokohama has long fallen into the control of the world’s largest criminal organization known as the Port Mafia.

Follow Class 1-A as their principal organized a field trip to Yokohama! In their short trip there, they must change their perspectives and learn exactly what it means to be justice and what it means to be villains.

Rating: T

Genre: Crossover, hint of shounen-ai (boy love)

Pairing: Contains mild Soukoku (Dazai x Chuuya) and Shin Soukoku (Akutagawa x Atsushi) if you squint

Author: Canna / Yellow Canna

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CHAPTER 8

LOOMING DARKNESS (DAY 1: SUNDAY)

“…Is he alive?”

The group gathered around the man lying within the spider lilies. None of them has any idea what in the world had happened. When the man dropped down from the tree and hung there, they were all too stunned by the sight to even think let alone move.

Then, after swaying around for a bit, the branch probably couldn’t handle the excess weight anymore and snapped, sending the man crashing into the bed of flowers with the branch falling over his head, creating a sickening crack.

It was this that snapped the kids out of their shock and instantly moved in to help.

Sato and Kirishima removed the branch from the man while the rest of them frantically loosened the white rope which turned out to be bandages wrapped on the man’s neck.

The man was surprisingly handsome. The phrase tall, dark and handsome fit this man's appearance perfectly. However, his appearance wasn't what caught all of their attentions. What caught their attention was the bandages wrapped around his exposed arms and neck…as well as the single, silvery handcuff locked around his right wrist.

“Hey…he couldn’t be a criminal, could he?” Hagakure spoke out everyone's thoughts.

“There’s no way…right?” Sato mumbled unsurely. After all, who else but a criminal would go around with a handcuff?

“It could be cosplay though.” Sero pointed out.

Midoriya had a hand to his mouth, brows furrowed in deep concentration as he stared at the handcuff, then to the bandages possibly covering the man’s entire body. His green eyes flew wide as he looked over to the broken branch, then back to the man.

Those injuries…

The way he had dropped from the branch…

The way his bandages held him up…

And most importantly, that handcuff.

Suddenly, everything linked together in his brain as he imagined a vivid image of what had happened.

“Midoriya-chan, did you think of something?” Asui asked, a finger to her lips as she tilted her head curiously.

“It’s possible…that he’s trying to commit suicide.” Midoriya said seriously.

“S-suicide?!” Yaoyorozu gasped with her hands to her mouth.

“No shit, did you just think of that now?” Bakugou sneered.

“Why do you think that?” Kirishima asked. “His bandages could have just gotten tangled up.”

“But why would he be here?”

He put together a story of a criminal on the run, having no choice but to commit suicide in this isolated place…

"We should contact the police," Iida said as he pulled out his flip phone.

It was at that moment when the man sat up.

It was as if time had stopped for Class 1-A. They stared in shock at the man that had just so casually sat up, blinking those chocolate brown eyes as he stared back at the kids.

Just as the man parted his lips, the green-haired teen was already in his face, shouting, “Killing yourself is bad!”

“…Eh?” The brown-haired man stared at the boy blankly. Unfortunately, no one paid any attention to his expression, as the rest of the kids crowded around the man.

“Yeah, killing yourself is bad, dude!”

“You can talk to us, sir!”

“Tell us what’s wrong! I’m sure we can figure it out together!”

“You shouldn’t treat your life so lightly!”

The man blinked once…twice…and then, he laughed.

“I’m afraid there might be some misunderstand here.” The man chuckled as he pointed up at the branches stretched over their heads. “I was having lunch up there when I slipped, got my bandage caught in the branch and fell off.”

“I-is that so?” Midoriya was completely flushed in red from the embarrassment of misunderstanding the situation. He was so certain the man had been trying to kill himself…

“Fucking nerd.” Bakugou—who had been watching them as if they were idiots from the sideline—sneered. He turned to the man, eyes narrowed in suspicion and snapped in a rude tone, “Why the fuck were you having lunch in a tree with those scrawny limbs?”

It was the blond’s way of questioning why the man had climbed a tree when he clearly doesn’t have the physical ability to do so. Bakugou was suspecting the truth behind the man’s words, along with the man himself.

The man smiled and looked at Bakugou from the corner of his eyes. The brunet pulled one of his knees up, resting his elbow on top while his chin in the palm of his hand. His action made everyone shift their eyes to the handcuff dangling on his wrist. The cuff was bathed in the light of the setting sun, reflecting the crimson hue in a strange, eerie glint.

“Well, I was enjoying a good meal made by my ever-loving wife! But then I couldn’t help but overheard that little lady’s story. It gave me such a fright that I lost my balance and fell off!”

“Eeeeh?!” Ashido gapped, pointing to herself. “It’s my fault?!”

“Dude, you almost committed murder.” Kaminari teased the flustered girl.

Bakugou narrowed his eyes, obviously not pleased to have his question bypassed just like that. He opened his mouth, about to snap at the man when Kirishima interrupted him, causing the vein on his head to throb even harder.

“But you spat out blood!”

The man blinked, obviously confused. He wiped a hand over his lips and looked down at the red stain on his fingertips.

“Aaaah~ this is the tomato juice I was drinking!”

“Tomato juice?!”

The kids stared at the red stain. It really did look like blood…

“It’s disgusting, you should try it.” The man said merrily, causing more than half of them to stare at the man, wondering if they’ve heard wrong.

If it’s disgusting, why should they try it?

“Why the hell would we want to try that?!” Bakugou roared.

“It’s good for hair growth.” The man replied, looking back up at Bakugou. “Your temper reminds me of my wife—and you don’t look like you’ll grow tall either. If you keep this up you’ll start going bald after entering your twenties. Best to rack up vitamins while you still—”

It was at that moment when it happened.

All they saw was a blur of red flashing by their sight before their eardrums were assaulted by the loud, explosive sound. It was like the cracking sound of thunder—like something moving at a super high speed—tearing through the air.

And then…

Boink

A gust of wind was suddenly blasted into their faces, forcing the kids to shut their eyes as crimson petals and leaves danced wildly in the air.

When the sudden wind died down, they opened their eyes and the first thing they saw was the strange man—face planted an inch within the dirt with his butt sticking out of the flowers. Right next to mop of messy brown hair was something cylinder slowly rolling away.

Asui—being the closest person—bent down and picked it up.

“Gero?” She turned the object around in her hand blinked before holding it up so that her classmates could see.

“A…can?” Midoriya frowned in confusion.

It wasn’t just any can. On the tall can, there was the image of a juicy red tomato printed on it. At the bottom corner of the can was a dent.

They all stared at the can, then to the man still kissing the dirt.

“What was that just now?” Yaoyorozu asked uncertainly.

They all looked around to each other, but none of them had any answers.

It had all happened way too fast, and none of them had their eyes open enough to see anything. From what they felt and heard, the only explanation was this can—but that itself already made no sense! If this can was traveling at that kind of speed, it wouldn't just leave a dent. Shouldn’t the entire thing would be flattened from the force?

A couple of the students were looking up the tree, but they didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Ah…that’s where it went.” A large, slender hand reached out, taking the can from Asui.

“Are…are you alright?” Iida asked as they stared at the man who was rubbing the back of his head as he slowly got up.

“Yep.” The man replied as if he didn’t find the situation the slightest bit weird. His long, nimble fingers spun the can around as he looked back up at the kids with a Cheshire cat smile. “So, what brings you kids here?”

“Oh, we’re just looking around and—” Uraraka responded, but was cut off by the man holding up a hand to her.

“No,” the brunet corrected, “I meant, what brings you to Yokohama?”

A deathly silence filled the place. The U.A students stared at the man with wide eyes for three full seconds before panic seeped in.

“H-how did you know?!” Hagakure was close to tears. Three hours and they've already been exposed twice! She couldn’t begin to imagine what would happen if Aizawa was to find out!

“Well, for one thing, that young lady’s scarf is still down.” The man pointed at Ashido whose scarf indeed was down. Due to her wiping the strawberry jam off her lips, she had also wiped off some foundations, revealing the pink skin underneath.

Ashido hurriedly pulled up her scarf, but it was already meaningless by this point.

“And this place is closed to the public. Although there’s no sign, everyone in Yokohama knows they can’t enter this place.” The man added, causing the kids to stiffened.

“S-sorry, we didn’t mean to trespass. Can you not tell anyone about this?” Yaoyorozu pleaded.

“We’re not suspicious people! We’re just here on a tour!” Uraraka quickly added.

“Sure.” The man shrugged. “As long as you keep the fact that you’ve met me here a secret as well.”

“Why’s that?” Kirishima asked in confusion.

“As I've said, this place is closed to the public. It’ll be bad if I’m found here.”

“So you’re trespassing as well!” Bakugou accused.

“Never said I wasn’t.” The man hummed lightheartedly. "My workplace is nearby and this place got a good view. Though I am saddened to hear how such a romantic place has been turned into a horror story."

“Romantic?” Jiro looked around the red maples and flowers.

“May I ask what is this place?” Yaoyorozu was unable to contain her curiosity. After all, no matter what age, women will always be weak to the word romantic.

“Yes! Can you please tell us?” Hagakure pleaded.

“There’s no name yet, but this place was built four years ago.” The man began as he stood up, brushing the petals and leaves off his suits as he does so. He walked through the group of kids—all of them parting ways for him—and stood at the shore, bathed in the fiery light.

“The owner remodeled this place to propose to the person he loves. He planted the lilies and maples and proposed exactly at this time—when the sea and the sky are dyed in the colour of blood. He said…”

“Will you walk down this bloody path with me to and through the gate of hell?”

The kids all felt that strange chill from before returning, silently creeping up their spines and wrapped around their necks, making the air suddenly harder to breathe.

“And then…?” Uraraka asked hesitantly.

By now, all the girls' curiosity of the so-called romance died away, realizing that this was very different than what they've imagined.

The man slowly turned. With the crimson light shining behind him, he was covered in shadows.

The chill the kids were feeling suddenly turned into full out fear as their heart rates spiked. However, none of them could move. They just stared at the man, whose eyes were the only thing they were able to see. Those eyes were gleaming, reflecting the red around them—looking very much like the eyes of a devil.

“Of course…” The man stepped forward and all at once the kids held their breaths.

“His lover accepted his proposal and they got happily married!” The man suddenly burst out cheerfully, jumping right into their faces as the shadows peeled off him, revealing a gigantic smile on his lips.

“…HUH?” The students stared blankly at the man.

At the back of the group, Mineta tilted backward. His eyes were rolled into the back of his head as he tumbled into the flowers. Unfortunately, no one had noticed him, as all of them were too busy staring at the man.

“I-is that…a joke?” Aoyama stammered with a hand clenching his chest. He nearly had a heart attack!

“Of course not.” The man held up his right arm and showed them the handcuff on his wrist. "As proof of their love, they handcuffed each other, so that they will always be tied. Even in death, their sins will continue to bind them together.”

A moment of silence passed by as the kids stared at the man’s handcuff.

“Wait...that’s what that handcuff is?!” Iida gapped in realization before letting out a long breath of relief. Thank goodness the man wasn’t some criminal on the run.

“Did you think it was anything else?” The man tilted his head in a curious gesture.

“Ah, no, it’s just in Japan—I mean back at our home, we don't use uh, handcuffs," Ojiro explained awkwardly. In fact, it wasn’t just Japan…there’s probably nowhere else in the world that would propose with handcuffs…

“Though I think it’s romantic!” Hagakure swooned, earning surprised and weird looks from her classmates.

“After that, a myth began in Yokohama.” The man hummed. “They say that if you proposed when the sky and the sky are at the reddest, your love will receive blessings from Port Mafia.”

“Port Mafia?” Tokoyami gasped.

“What does Port Mafia got anything to do with this?” Sato asked.

“Hmm? Did I not tell you?” The man blinked innocently. “The one who made this place and proposed is the current boss of the Port Mafia.”

“EEEEEEEEEH?!”

The last bit of sunlight has vanished into the sea. The sky was gradually turning purple as the crimson that once bathed this land began to fade into the coming darkness.

“Now then, I believe it’s time for you kids to get going.” The brunet waved his hand. “If you’re gone for too long, your guardian will be worried.”

As if on cue, the ringing sound of phone echoed into the air.

At first, none of the kids reacted, as it’s wasn’t a ringtone any of them were familiar with. But then they remembered the temporary phones they were given and immediately started frantically pulling them out.

In the end, it turned out the ringing was from Midoriya’s phone.

“Hello?” Midoriya put the phone on speaker as everyone gathered around him. The man just stood there, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched them quietly.

“WHERE DID YOU GUYS GO?!” A panicky voice none of them had ever heard of before shouted through the speaker. “Give me your location! I’m coming right now!”

“E-eh?! Uh…” Midoriya panicked as he looked around, finding nothing that could possibly indicate their current location. Then, Midoriya’s eyes got drawn to the tall stranger. He was smiling at him and mouthing a string of words.

Midoriya wasn’t supposed to understand. He knew nothing about lip-reading, but he understood the man perfectly. His lips moved in such clear and simplistic ways that Midoriya could almost hear him whispering the words into his ears. He shivered at the weird feeling but quickly relayed the address he has gotten.

With a sharp click, the person on the other side hung up.

“...What do you guys think that’s about?” Kirishima asked as he looked around his companions.

“They couldn’t have found out…could they?” Mineta—who was woken up by the phone call—shivered at the thought of the teachers finding out what happened early today.

“Either way, we should get going," Shouji suggested. The rest of the students nodded before remembering the strange man who was still standing there, watching them with a light smile on his lips.

“Although it wasn’t my intention, I did cause you some trouble. I apologize for that. I do hope you’ll enjoy our city during your stay.” And then, the man held his long index finger to his thin lips. “Remember not to tell anyone you’ve met me here, or I’ll be in huge trouble.”

“O-of course!” Yaoyorozu bowed. “Thank you for keeping our secret as well!”

“Just make sure to wrap yourselves up properly next time. You never know who might be watching.”

“Yes! Thank you so much!” Ashido along with the rest of the class thanked the man. They hurriedly left, afraid that if they waste any more time whoever was on the phone would call back to yell at them again.

Chocolate brown eyes trailed after the kids, watching them until they vanished into the shadows of the forest.

As the night began to set in, scarlet lanterns that were hidden within the maple trees began to light up one by one, illuminating the man’s surroundings and once more bathing the field in crimson light.

The leaves of the Japanese maples turned transparent from the light, revealing the silhouette of a person sitting high up on the branch.

“Da-za-iiii!” A low and husky voice growled from behind the curtain of red, stretching out the name of the brunet who gazed up the tree with a sly smile.

“Yes, Chuu-yaaa~?” The man sang back, stretching out the other’s name just as long.

“The fuck’s with that shitty story?!” The figure snapped, shadows moving behind the leaves yet despite his movements, the branch he perched on didn’t shake by the slightest bit.

“My dear, how could you say that about our love proposals?!” Dazai gasped with one hand to his heart while his handcuffed hand stretched towards the figure.

The tree shook this time. Within a whirlwind of leaves, a man dressed in all black dropped down, landing gracefully within the flowers as his wavy pumpkin orange locks fluttered in the air.

“Love proposal?” The man snorted. “Since when did bringing me to this damn place without any explanation, handcuffed me, ordering me never to take it off and to cross the Styx River with your shitty ass became a love proposal?!”

“Oh?” Amusement swirled within Dazai’s brown eyes as he stared at his companion. “But according to my memory, Chuuya agreed to it, didn’t you? You said you’ll spend the rest of your life with me~!”

“Like hell I did! I said I’ll—!” Chuuya cut himself off, pink hue slowly dusting over his cheeks as he finally realized just what the other man was trying to gull him into saying.

"Yes?" Dazai was meaning dangerously close to Chuuya. “What was it you’ve said again, Chuu-yaaa?”

Scarlet burst across the shorter man’s face, but it wasn’t red from embarrassment. He was red from anger as the veins beneath his forehead throbbed.

Dazai chuckled as he gracefully leaped back—just in time to avoid a slender leg coming at him in a roundhouse kick. Then he raised a hand, catching the tomato can that came hurling at him once more, except this time it lacked the speed and power it had before.

And then—Dazai was swept off his legs.

He fell into the flowers, his back hitting painfully against the hard ground and was pinned down by the weight of another person. He smirked, not even the slightest bit surprised as he stared at the petite man sitting on top of him, looking down at him with a dead serious look.

“…You promised you wouldn’t do it again.”

“Hm?” Dazai tilted his head. Burnt umber eyes stared into those bright blue eyes that seemed to glow in the night sky. There was a mixture of bitterness and anger swirling within them like a storm—well, mostly anger.

“That.” Chuuya spat. “Your idiotic suicides!”

“But Chuuya!” Dazai countered innocently. “You’re the one who kicked me off the tree!”

“I wouldn’t have kicked you in the first place if you just behave like an adult!” Chuuya roared. He grabbed Dazai by the collar and with just a single hand, he jerked the brunet up so that they were face to face. “You made me kick you! Right after you tied your bandage onto a fucking branch in my blind spot!”

“Which means it wasn’t suicide!” Dazai chirped merrily.

The sounds of veins snapping could be heard from the shorter man.

Thinking quickly, Dazai did the only thing that could save him from the incoming pain. He leaned forward, closing the last bit of gap between them as his lips captured a pair of softer ones. While his lover was frozen in the state of shock, Dazai wrapped his arms around the redhead’s small and lithe frame. With a flip, he rolled them around, their lips never detaching as Chuuya sprawled beneath him.

The kiss lasted for a full minute before Dazai had to reluctantly pull away.

“Besides,” The brunet licked his lips, marveling the way the redhead’s lips glistened in the warm lighting. “I know Chuuya would save me. Didn’t you break that branch for me?”

“I rather not be put under suspicion of murdering you on top of all these shits you’ve started.” Chuuya huffed, turning his head away and refusing to keep looking at that irritating smug face.

“So?” He spoke with full sarcasm, “What the fuck was that about?”

“Of course it was to teach those kids a lesson.” Dazai huffed. “I spent months planning this romantic theme for my proposal and to hear them using it as a horror story saddens me greatly!”

“Like hell anyone would find this creepy place romantic!” Chuuya rolled his eyes, clearly not believing a word that comes out of the other’s mouth.

“Oh? Then perhaps I could change your mind…” Dazai was already reaching for those delectable lips when…

“Ahem~”

“Ugh!” Dazai crumbled into the spider lilies. His body was curled up like a shrimp in boiling water with arms clutching over his stomach where he had been mercilessly punched.

Chuuya was instantly on his feet, petals fluttering off him in his haste as he bowed to the tall woman slowly walking out from the crimson maple trees as if she was on an evening stroll. She carried a crimson parasol over her head, protecting her from the fluttering leaves of the forest.

“Ane-san!” Chuuya greeted respectfully.

“My, my~ I do hope I am not interrupting.” The woman said, bringing her pink kimono sleeve up to her lips. She was seemingly hiding her smile, but her sleeve was just low enough for the two men to see the corner of her curved lips.

“As an executive, it is part of my duty to make sure our boss’s image does not get tarnished in the hearts of our men, so I decided to come first and make sure you’re…” Her ruby red eyes looked over the brunet up and down. “Presentable.”

"But of course," Dazai said through gritted teeth while maintaining a smile matching the woman's. “Chuuya.”

Chuuya reached into his pocket, pulling out a roll of bandage as he began unwrapping the messy old bandages from Dazai’s neck and replacing them with new ones. The woman watched the two’s interactions, the mocking smile on her lips turning genuine as she turned her attention elsewhere.

Specifically—the ruined flower field.

Due to Dazai’s idiocy and the appearances of twenty kids walking around, a lot of the spider lilies were crushed

“Such a pity for these flowers to wilt like this.” The woman lamented. “They would make a very nice bouquet.”

“Take as much as you like, Kouyou-san.” Dazai waved his hand dismissively.

“Well…since the boss so generously offered, who am I to reject?” Kouyou reached down and pick up a beautiful spider lily that had its stem bent. “I’m sure Boss wouldn’t mind me taking a detour for tomorrow’s mission, would you?”

“Of course not.” Dazai stood up once Chuuya fixed his bandage in place.

Chuuya held a hand towards the maple tree he had been hiding within when the kids were present. From within the crimson leaves, a black coat and a long maroon scarf came flying out, shrouded by crimson light as they flew into the man’s outstretched hand.

Dazai didn’t move as he allowed Chuuya to put the black jacket over his shoulders and the long scarf around his neck. Just as the shorter man was about to put away the bandages, a slender hand touched his, stopping his movement.

“Kouyou-san, what are your thoughts on those kids?” Dazai asked as he took the bandages from Chuuya.

The elegant woman smiled, not the slightest bit ashamed in knowing she had been caught peeking. After all, it was also part of her duty to watch over her young boss.

“Not worth mentioning.” Kouyou’s words were harsh, yet her voice was still light and airy as if she was discussing the weather.

The sound of footsteps came from all directions around them. One by one, men and women emerged from the shadows. Most of them were all dressed in black suits with sunglasses hiding their faces. They all knelt and dipped their heads low, bowing respectfully to the brown-haired man standing at the center.

Kouyou grinned as a dangerous glint flickered across her sharp eyes. “Even to the very end, those children have no idea that their lives had been spared.”

That’s right, the moment those Heroes-in-training got close to Dazai, a noose had been wrapped around each of their necks. All they needed was a signal and those children’s life would have ended as quickly as a snap of a finger.

“Chuuya?” Dazai turned his gaze to Chuuya who had assumed his business attitude—standing dutifully by his side with his hands folded behind his back.

“I’m with Ane-san," Chuuya responded. “If those were my subordinates, I would have given each of them three shots.”

The kids had high awareness, but that was the extent of it. None of them were able to figure out the truth behind everything.

Despite what Dazai said, Chuuya knew why the brunet had hung himself.

As those kids stood within the flowers, their senses were alerting them of danger. They were able to sense the danger they were in, but they were too unfamiliar with the sense of death hanging over their heads, so they weren’t able to pinpoint exactly what their body was alerting their brains of.

This was all due to their lack of experience and the peaceful lives they’ve undoubtedly led.

Dazai’s dramatic entrance shattered that. He drew all of their attention onto himself, making them dismiss the uneasy feeling they’ve had ever since arriving. Even if they felt anything off after that, those suspicions would all be directed at Dazai, not their surroundings.

And that was all built upon Dazai giving them a chance.

When that pale-haired boy questioned Dazai on his lie, Dazai used the most obvious way possible to change the topic. There was a handful within the group that noticed, but none of them pointed that out—not even the boy that questioned it.

“It goes to show the levels of Heroes and Villains these days.” Dazai hummed.

Chuuya snorted quietly. There were so many things he wanted to retort about his Boss, but he couldn’t do that with all these people present. Kouyou was right. As executives, they had to at the very least protect the image of their boss—though Chuuya liked to argue that their boss's image was tarnished years ago.

“Chuuya.” Upon being called again, Chuuya looked up and was shocked by what he was seeing. “Help me out here. It’s a bit hard to do this without a mirror.”

“…I thought you should be used to it by now.” Chuuya muttered, eyes unable to leave the man’s face as he drank in that nostalgic sight. He slowly reached his hands up, the situation still feeling surreal to him as he helped fixed the bandages in place.

Even Kouyou’s eyes rounded as she stared at Dazai.

“If the former boss was to see you now…he would be very pleased.” She whispered gently in a nostalgic tone.

Right there, standing at the very center, was a brown-haired man dressed in nothing but black with bandages wrapped around his left eye—concealing half of his face. This was no longer the Dazai they’ve familiarized themselves with for the past couple of years.

This was the old Dazai—the Dazai before the battle with Mimic.

This was the Demon Prodigy of Port Mafia—the other half of Double Black.

Chuuya stepped back after he finished tying the knot. The face that was now in front of him perfectly overlapped with the one in his childhood memories.

Dazai gave the orange-haired man a light smile before his expression completely changed. Warmth seeped away from those soft brown eyes, taking a darker, colder glint that will make anyone who looked into them shiver in fright.

“Now then.”

At the change of his tone, the two executives got down to their knees. Chuuya took off his hat, placing it against his chest while Kouyou had retracted her parasol and laid it by her side.

Their free time was over.

Now, it was time for them to get to work.

“Tachihara, what are the statuses of our guests?” Dazai looked towards a young man with spikey auburn hair and a bandage over the bridge of his nose.

The man was one of the few within the group to not wear the standard black suits, but a green jacket with fur around the collar and a white v-neck shirt with black borders underneath.

“They have settled within Block 03, just as you predicted, Boss.” The young man responded. “The Black Lizard is on standby for your orders.”

“Send out three men to tail each member. If they show signs of trying to shake you off, let them. In two days, they will be contacting us—right when Hirotsu-san returns from his vacation, I believe?”

“Yes, Boss.” Tachihara nodded.

Dazai didn’t look at Tachihara anymore. He gazed up at the full moon shining brightly within the night sky. A gentle breeze flew by, causing the crimson leaves to rustle as the lanterns within swayed lightly.

This short moment of peacefulness was shattered by the next words that came out of Dazai’s mouth.

“Release Q.”

All mafia members that had been within Port Mafia long enough or had at least heard the rumours stiffened in alarm. Even Kouyou—given her years of experience—twitched ever so slightly at hearing the name.

The only one completely unaffected was Chuuya. The man continued to kneel by his boss’s side, head dipped low as with his bangs falling over his face, hiding his expression from the rest of the world.

“Will that be wise?” Kouyou questioned, lifting her head just enough for her eyes to meet with Dazai’s. “He is still being punished for escaping his confinement during the Guild’s attack.”

"I believe he has learned his lesson," Dazai smirked. “A proper caretaker has already been arranged.”

“Then as you command, I will release him.” Kouyou lowered her head once more, easily accepting her boss’s decision.

Dazai turned, coat whirling around him like a dark cape as he walked off with Chuuya and Kouyou close behind him.

“Let’s go, we have a long night ahead of us.”

“YES, BOSS!”

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

It had taken a while for Class 1-A to leave the forest.

In the beginning, the darkness made it hard to navigate, especially when none of them familiar with their surroundings. However, halfway through, lights suddenly appeared within the trees, chasing away the darkness and allowing them to see properly. When they looked through the leaves, they found that those were red lanterns hung on the branches. The red coating on the lanterns was the same colour as the maple leaves. That was why none of them had noticed during the day.

The lanterns lid up their paths little by little. Drawn by the gorgeous lights, their feet had unintentionally slowed as they admired the scenery.

By the time they’ve made it out into the street, the sky was completely dark. They waited there, watching cars passing by until they heard a voice in the distance.

“You guys!”

They all turned to see a boy running over to them. He looked only a couple years older than them with butterscotch coloured hair, a v-neck shirt and a red sweater tied around his waist.

“I was looking everywhere for you guys!” The boy nearly shouted in panic, then looked towards the entrance to the forest as if it would turn into a monster at any moment and devour him. “Please don’t tell me you went in there!”

“W-we uh…” Uraraka stuttered, not sure how to explain.

“Who are you?” Iida asked, but the other person wasn’t listening at all as he pulled out his phone to check the time.

“It’s already seven! Coming on, we need to head back to the Agency or we’ll never hear the end of it!”

Hearing the word Agency, Class 1-A finally realized that this person must have been the caller—meaning he was also someone from the Armed Detective Agency. Although none of them had any idea what had happened, they followed the boy around the city, arriving back in the Agency in half an hour.

“YOU MORONS!” Kunikida all but exploded in their faces the moment they made it back into the office.

If that wasn’t bad enough, Aizawa was standing right next to the blond, glaring at them with those gleaming red eyes with his hair fluttering in the air.

“After I specifically told you not to use your Quirks, you used it and even attacked an Ability user!”

“Hiie! H-how did he know?!” Mineta cried, jumping into Kaminari’s arms as the two boys quivered.

“Not even going to make excuses huh?” Aizawa said darkly. “You kids got guts.”

“W-wait, please hear us out, sensei!” Kirishima shouted, but Kunikida cut them off as he opened up his notebook.

“Minoru Mineta, peeked under a girl’s skirt at 2:43pm. The lady, Lucy Maud Montgomery then trapped him within her Ability. Not only did you guys not properly talked to her to defuse the situation or call one of us, Bakugou Katsuki even taunted her to activate her Ability despite not having any clear understanding of her powers. Then within her dimension, just because you didn’t think you were being watched, you all activated your Quirks against one lady.”

“H-how?!” Ashido spluttered.

“Allow me to introduce.” Kunihida snapped his notebook shut as the young man from before walked over to the blond. “This is Junichirou Tanizaki. He has been tasked with watching over you during your time outside.”

“Hello.” The boy, Junichirou Tanizaki, greeted meekly.

“Watching over us?” Midoriya was digging into his memories, trying to recall anything but nothing came to his mind.

“Since when?” Iida gasped, also having no idea how none of them noticed.

“Since the beginning.” Kunikida replied.

“Then…don’t tell me you were in Lucy’s dimension as well?” Kirishima gasped.

“I was.” Tanizaki nodded.

“Impossible! We didn’t see you at all!” Bakugou shouted.

“Tanizaki.” Kunikida looked over to Tanizaki who nodded.

Then, right in front of their eyes, Tanizaki changed. Within a mass of green pixels, the young man disappeared. In his place was a large built man in his forties dressed in standard bus driver uniforms.

Toshinori and Aizawa immediately recognized this man. It took a while for the kids, but one by one they began to recalled who that was.

“Aren’t you…the bus driver?!” Ashido gapped in shock.

“That’s right! You were…wait…what’s going on?” Kirishima furiously scratched his head.

“An illusion?” Midoriya blinked when something drifted by his eyes. He thought it was a large piece of dust, but when he looked around, he realized that it was suddenly snowing.

No, this wasn’t snow. These were light particles coming down from the green aurora that came out of nowhere and shrouded them.

“What is this?” Uraraka stretched out her hand and watched her fingers going through the green light. She couldn’t feel anything. There was no warmth or coldness coming from the light. It was as if it wasn’t even real.

“This is my Ability, Light Snow.” The bus driver replied. In another mass of green pixels, Tanizaki transformed back to himself. “I used my Ability to hide within you guys before you got transported into the other dimension.”

“Tanizaki’s Ability allows him to create illusions." Kunikida explained, vein still throbbing in his head. “That was how he’s been tailing you without any of you noticing. If Lucy Maud Montgomery had more battle experiences, she may have noticed she took one extra person in, but she didn’t. Since Tanizaki can slip in without anyone noticing, it won’t be surprising if someone from the Port Mafia had done the same.”

“T-then—” Aoyama became extremely pale.

“Were we found out?” Todoroki asked, voice calm and steady compared to most of his classmates.

That was apparently the wrong thing to ask, as Kunikida looked even more irritated—if that was even possible. The blond-haired man pulled out a letter from his pocket. It was a very wrinkled letter—as if someone had crushed it repeatedly within his palm.

They watched as Kunikida pulled out the letter from within the white envelope, eyebrow twitching as he began to read the content to them.

“Dear Armed Detective Agency,

It has come to my attention that the students of U.A High School have violated our agreement with regards to the usage of Quirks. On behave of their principal, and the fact that their actions did not impact Yokohama specifically, I will overlook it.

I suppose I am partly to blame in thinking that the elites within the Armed Detective Agency would be able to properly monitor them. I do hope you’ll be more adequate in the future.

Sincerely,

Port Mafia.”

The sounds of knuckles crackling were the only warning they got as the next couple minutes, Kunikida went berserk. It was like the last thread of his sanity had snapped. He fisted two ends of the letter, tearing it in half before he proceeded to shred them into tiny pieces within his hands before rolling them into a ball and slamming it into the trash can so hard that the papers just ended up flying back out.

“All of you go to the meeting room, NOW!” He ordered as some of the tiny pieces of paper landed within his hair.

None of them dared to speak. They quietly shuffled towards the room with Tanizaki kindly leading the way. After they went in, Tanizaki closed the door and came back over to where the two U.A teachers and Kunikida waited.

“Tanizaki. It’s not like you to lose some kids.” Kunikida said. Despite shoulder so much calmer, his hands were still busy tearing apart the envelope that had come with the letter. “What happened?”

Aizawa and All Might were curious as well.

They may not understand the boy’s skills, but just from his Ability, they could tell first hand just how good this illusion was. If a normal person can stalk a group of twenty kids walking down the street, it made no sense that a professional would fail at something so simple.

The uncertain look on Tanizaki’s face turned serious as he retold the event from his perspective.

“I was following them after they parted with that former Guild member. Just when I was crossing the street, a car ran through the red light and came right at me. By the time I dodged and look back, the kids were gone.”

Kunikida clicked his teeth as irritation returned at full speed.

“Is it the Port Mafia?” Despite asking, Toshinori was already one hundred percent certain of his guess. After all, this kind of diversion was too deliberate. They weren't even trying to hide it! On top of that, there was also the timing of the letter…no matter how he thought about it, it could only be the Port Mafia.

“Where did you find them?” Kunikida then questioned his co-worker.

“…They were standing in front of the gate to that forest.” Tanizaki mumbled, clapping his hands over his ears just in time to block out his superior’s scream.

“WHAT?!”

“What is wrong with this forest?” Aizawa frowned. Just by the two’s reactions, it can’t be anything good.

“There is a small forest around here owned by the current Port Mafia boss.” Kunikida replied seriously as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “No one but the Port Mafias ever goes in there.”

“You don’t mean…” Aizawa and Toshinori felt their hearts skipped a beat.

“Looks like we’ll need some serious talk with the kids.” Toshinori sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

The Port Mafia…what exactly are they planning?

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#soukoku #bnha crossover #bsd #bsd fanfic #bnha fanfic #bsd crossover

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hisgirlwonder · 6 years ago

Text

Innocence Lost (Michael Langdon x Reader)

Length: 3.8K words Warning: Probably quite a bit (abandonment and betrayal, emotional abuse, manipulation, daddy issues, degradation, anal stuff, use of body fluids, etc) Synopsis: In your father’s eyes, you were his and his alone... until you weren’t; until he’d sold you to the Son of Satan for his own survival. Notes: Just a warning that if you are triggered by issues such as family problems, emotional abuse, abusive men in general, etc, that you probably shouldn’t read this. I wanted to try and make something really horrible since I needed a break from fluff so you’ve been warned. I took inspiration from a couple of movies and I hope you enjoy! If you want to read anything else I’ve written, you can find stuff in my masterlist. (ps. I had to make YN look like Vivien for the sake of my story.)

When you look back on everything, you realise a part of you had always known that your father only cared about himself. It all started when you were nine or ten and recall falling asleep to the sound of your parents screaming at each other. Tears rolled off your face and soaked your pillowcase while you held a hand over each of your ears in an effort to drown out the noise. One day your mother had enough, took off to go and get a pack of cigarettes but she never returned. You spent hours sitting by the front door before and after school waiting for her return – it was like this for almost a year.

A naïve belief had planted itself inside your mind as a child that he did his best to love you which was somewhat true… except it wasn’t really. Loving your child should be unconditional and yet for your father it was the exact opposite; with strict conditions. He only loved you in the moments that he didn’t see her.

The disappearing act of your youth changed him forever. It changed you, too, but this is when he began to figuratively sink himself into and under your skin. Looking at you pained him because you were the spitting image of her when they first met all those years ago; head full of long, luscious, strawberry-blonde locks and piercing blue eyes which bore through a man’s soul and found their way into his heart without even trying. His existence became like a sign at a crossroads – stagnant and unable to move and he couldn’t bear to be without you because she had already left. Your father couldn’t let you leave, too.

The name Michael had been mentioned in passing a long time ago when the two of them first met and went into business; that’s all you’d been told; no surprises if he turned out to be as corrupt as your father. The man who helped bring you into this world seemed wholesome on the surface but beneath it all he was a crook; a man who used manipulation, treachery, sometimes even force, to get what he wanted. His Devilish dealings and misdemeanours probably were the reason why when Michael came along you couldn’t jump into his arms fast enough.

Being as oblivious as you were, you gave excuses for the behaviour and never fought back because you were brainwashed into thinking his actions were warranted. Your mother, after all, gave birth to you and it was only fair for you to take over her role in the household which meant dealing with his venomous tongue.

When this new person appeared in your life, seemingly out of nowhere, he lit up your life like a firework on the fourth of July. He was charming, charismatic, and all the things your mother would have warned you about had she still been around - you imagine she would have told you a man is only as good as the company he keeps. You’d already discovered your father was bad news and you were to learn that Michael was too, despite the pretty face.

“Y/N, come here. There’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

You’re called to come outside and meet the visitor your father has invited over. It’s near impossible to contain the excitement you’re feeling because you’ve never had your own visitors so you run as fast as you can to the door. There’s a man standing on the deck who doesn’t look much older than you standing there and hands down he is one of the most beautiful human beings you’ve ever seen.

A hand presses against your lower back, pushing you closer to this unknown person. Introductions from your father are had and you learn that this aesthetically pleasing person standing before you happens to be Michael. In a display of kindness, you hold out a hand for him to shake but he has other plans – taking that same hand in his and placing a kiss on the back of it. Your attempt to greet him is a failure because your vocal chords seem stuck; held down by nerves at the sight of this gorgeous man. Michael can feel the shyness you’re emanating and continues to hold your hand; only now stroking the palm with a couple of fingers.

“Hello, Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. F/N has told me so much about you.”

His voice bewitched you without any effort but your heart-eyes and swooning are cut short by your father interrupting, inviting Michael inside for lemonade. Michael replies with an answer that sounds as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

The three of you walk to the kitchen which is fine until daddy dearest makes a comment in your ear when you’re getting the jug of lemonade from the fridge about how Michael is a good man and how he’s going to take care and look after you. You have no idea what he meant nor did you care because, for the first time in your life, a boy had awoken something inside you.

You sit on the chair closest to Michael after the drinks are poured and are enamoured once again; intoxicated by his presence. Michael proposes a toast, to friendships, meeting you, and for you being as magnificent as described. Your skin began to flush because your father had been the only man allowed to call you that.

Two months have passed and what started off innocently enough has transpired into something else. Michael, of course, has nothing to do with it because he hasn’t touched you besides holding your hand or brushing your hair, but your mind works in other ways. Somehow he’s gotten trapped inside your skull and every thought and dream is about him.

One Friday night, your father decides to leave you alone with Michael. You were nervous but unsuspecting of anything, even when your father nods at Michael before he leaves. You would learn in a few weeks from now that this was more of a signal for him to start the plans the two of them had concocted.

With the two of you in the house all alone, it meant that you could give each other undivided attention without any interruption.

Your legs are draped over Michael as you usually would except instead of resting a hand on your kneecap sweetly he’s travelling up one of your thighs from the inside of your kneecap. You’re biting at your lip as he’s half way up your thigh but unfortunately his fingers don’t move any further, instead, he use them to tuck strands of fallen hair back behind your ear. Michael sweetly questions if you wanted to go to your room and play a game and, of course, you couldn’t say yes fast enough because you were ready for anything after feeling just a miniscule amount of affection.

You sit on your bed, bouncing legs in anticipation for what happens next. It’s only natural for you to feel this way because up until a few weeks ago you were untouched. The curiousity becomes all too much and you ask, “What game are we going to play?”

Michael takes a seat next to you and holds your restless legs still in an attempt to dispel any anxiety. Once you’ve stopped moving nervously, he cups a cheek in his hand and looks at you in a way that you’d never seen before. To any other woman who had been with a man, they’d know the look; he was holding back the growing hunger inside.

“A special game.”

“I like games,” you admit excitedly. You were a grown woman and yet a child all the same – you’d been stuffed into a box by your father and shielded from most if not all things that would break you out of his grip. In the throes of a mental breakdown, he even unenrolled you out of school and hired a tutor he trusted because he didn’t want someone else poisoning your mind or stealing you. He couldn’t lose another woman that he loved most. Once you’d finished school, there was no need for you to work because of the wealth your father had acclaimed - he forced this upon you and would use it if you ever stepped out of line.

“Lay down on the bed for me, will you?” he asks with eyes locked onto yours, fingers stroking at the curve of your jaw. Under his spell, you followed the instruction without a breath of hesitation. Michael slips off his shoes and lays on the bed as well; perched up on one elbow and the other hand strumming along your upper thigh.

“Is this okay?” Michael questions you, making sure you were comfortable with what was going on. It seemed as if the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you in any way. You’re nodding but the truth is you wanted to yell out for more; beg for his hands to roam your body and take every last bit of your innocent; burn holes into your flesh from the intense fires of his want.

Then it happens.

“Would it be okay if I touched you in other places? You can say no if you don’t want me to.”

There he goes. Michael lays out the option to quench your thirst and to sate your desires but he also gives you the option to back out. As if you really had a choice.

“Y-y-yes,” you stutter. With no real understanding of how this works, you just agree and allow him to lead the way. He wastes no time getting in between the thick of your thighs and his fingertips dance over the fabric of your underwear; providing weak stimulation. At first, you jump because these aren’t your hands and you’d never felt anything quite like it before but you just went with it. Michael’s smiling at your reaction because he knows soon he’s going to defile you and turn you into his cock-hungry slut all in a matter of moments.

Two of his fingers push the layer of fabric out of the way and he traverses the slit between your legs. Michael playfully teases how wet you are, how ready you are, and you hide behind your hands. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment could only hide for so long because Michael pulls your hands down; he didn’t want you hiding anything back from him. Michael wanted, and needed, to see the way you reacted to him corrupting your body. His long, ring-adorned fingers glazed with slick travel to meet with your swollen bud, teasing it with his tips, and you feel a different kind of heat run through your veins – no longer embarrassed but set alight.

The events that conspired over that afternoon led you to believe magic was deep-rooted within Michael, embedded in his DNA. There was no other way to describe the power he had over you. What started as fingertips stroking at your bud as if your body was braille led to his plump lips devouring you; tongue lapping up the mess from the multiple orgasms he brought upon your body. After the final orgasm from his mouth, you thought that was it but turns out it was only the beginning.

When you gave him the signal, he slid inside gently and you could swear every thrust of his hips brought you closer to Heaven. You sang out in moans and your good girl image was broken when you began cursing. After the two of you had finished and you were catching your breath, the thought hit and you wondered if without your father would you have ever felt this from a man? The answer was probably no.

In the weeks that followed after the first time, things with Michael had heated up to the point where it could almost burn you alive. Your father pretended as if he didn’t know that Michael was fucking you in the room next door to his but anybody could have heard the noises that came from your mouth and your bedroom furniture.

For the first time in your life, you become needy for something other than your father's love. In your desire for Michael, practically ripping his clothes off when the two of you were alone. He had cast some kind of spell, turning you into someone you didn’t recognise. You became messy and had a sex drive that skyrocketed to the point where you no longer cared; allowing him to pound you into submission over every surface in your house.

One day Michael begins to touch you differently; with less passion, less care, instead just fucking you and not paying any attention to your body whatsoever. It becomes too much and you demand to know what’s changed. His all so sudden denial and strange behaviour you left you standing there in disbelief, hands on hips like a bratty child. You yell at him as he’s walking away, “You’re a liar and you can’t do this, Michael. You’ve gotten under my skin somehow and made me sick with this disease.”

When he realises he’s got you to the point where he wants you, he spins around on his heels and walks towards you. His eyes pierce into you with intent. “You want to feel something, do you?”

You step closer, pushing him back from his chest. “Yeah, but you have other things to do.”

This was the moment he was waiting for; the one to rip you in two and destroy everything you knew.

One of his hands takes you by surprise, colliding with your cheek and you’re left with a stinging that sliced through the skin because of the strength of the hit. You’re rubbing at your skin to soothe the pain and he taunts you, asking if it was enough. You bit back at his smart mouth and told him that wasn’t the kind of feeling you wanted.

“Maybe I don’t want to give you what you want.”

You were like an addict begging to blow your dealer for one more hit, offering your body up for some kind of satisfaction. “Since when did you ever turn me down?”

The push and the pull between the two of you are almost identical to how your parents would fight and that angers you even more. Michael snaps, pushing you back onto the bed; holding your wrists above your head, slender fingers digging into their hollows. He too has also become triggered; the similarities in your hair and eye colour to his mothers set him off.

“We’re going to do something a little different if that’s how you want to play.”

The way he spoke to you left you expecting hands of his to wrap themselves around your throat like you envisioned your own father doing if you disobeyed him but Michael did the opposite; dropping your wrists and leaving the room for a minute.

Michael returns and walks in slow, calculated steps to the end of your bed where you see him attach a pair of the handcuffs to each side of the bed frame. The thought crossed your mind as to where he would have got them but knowing your father, you wouldn’t be surprised if Michael had gone snooping and found them in your father’s drawers. He moves his fingers in a come hither movement and you crawl across the bed to the end but you aren’t close enough for his liking and so he pulls you swiftly to the edge of the bed, only to lock a cuff around each of your wrists.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?”

You could lie and tell him that it wasn’t but it was written all over your face. He smacks at your face again as hard as before, you wince in pain.

“Since you want to feel something so bad I’m going to make you feel more than just my cock inside you.”

Michael undresses, throwing the clothes on the chair near your bed carelessly before getting behind you. He rips off your clothes – your button up sundress ruined from angry hands, leaving buttons strewn over the bed and some minimally attached to the fabric. He tears the lace underwear from your body and throws the ruined item of clothing to the side.

You’re sweltering from the heat of your own lust but the same can’t be said for Michael - because of your likeness to his mother, he’s neck deep in disgust and power. He brings his aching erection to your slit, rubbing the aperture between your legs before forcing himself past your folds and inside. The thick girth filled your tight cunt in full; the ridges of him hitting the entrance in ways that sent shivers down your spine. Michael takes a handful of your hair and pulls you back as he growls, asking you if you knew what you are – obviously joking and saying you’re needing to get laid isn’t the answer because he yanks you back harder.

“You’re a pathetic bitch,” Michael snarls. The grip he has starts to hurt the roots of your hair. You whimper, unable to come back with anything because you were distracted by the discomfort. Michael doesn’t care and yells at you to look at how pathetic you are in the mirror adjacent to your bed, further adding to the degradation. His eyes are fixed on the sight of his hands hooking around your hips, pulling you into him. The handcuffs dig into your skin but you were enrapt with pleasure.

Michael is gentle only for the first few thrusts before picking the speed up and the repeated collision of hip bones on your ass become almost ferocious. The sounds of enjoyment you were making served as gratification for Michael’s inflated ego. You were so lost in focusing on Michael and how he was fucking you in a way you’d never even dreamed of that your orgasm crept up on you. It all comes to a stop when he feels what you’ve done and he scolds you for it. “You came without my permission, did you? I guess you’re just going to have to pay for it.”

You have no idea what’s going on behind you but can feel him exiting your body – he still needs to cum but he needed to make it count after, in his mind, you betrayed him like his mother did. His sick enjoyment from your humiliation reaches another level when he can see the nectar stringing from your pussy to his shaft while he removes himself. The sight of it all over his cock gives him an idea and so he rubs the tip, now covered in a muculent glaze of your own arousal, against your other hole and slides the head inside. He remains still, leaving you unsuspecting of his intent, but it wasn’t long before he gave you his entire length. Michael had trained your ass with many toys since you began having sex and so when he fully enters you, waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He can only handle about five or six thrusts before he’s sent over the edge, emptying his seed into your ass.

“Look at you, fucked with an ass full of my cum. I bet you like being used like a piece of meat, don’t you?”

Michael pulls the weakening erection out of you and wants to take things even further. In his own twisted punishment, he shoves two fingers in your ass to scoop out some of the viscous fluid and forces them into your mouth to make you gag on the remnants of his perversion.

“I want you to hear exactly what I’m saying and shut the fuck up while I’m doing it. Don’t think you can use your smart mouth right now when I have the advantage here. You know why your father introduced me to you, don’t you? It wasn’t out of the kindness of his heart but because he sold you to me for a place in my Outpost.”

You begin to mewl in discomfort as the high begins to wear off. He’s digging his fingertips into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open and making sure you can’t say anything or move at all.

“He let me use you to my own advantage because he knew you look a lot like my mother. You want to know the reason your father and I have bonded so well recently? Because we both have women in our lives who have ruined us. When I said he had to offer me something more than money, he didn’t hesitate in giving me his pure, virgin daughter to destroy. It seems only fair too, don’t you think? Your mother ruined your father and what better way to get her back then to ravage the child she held in her womb. My mother ruined me too. It’s the ultimate betrayal to your God. ”

You’re unable to look anywhere else except straight into the eyes of Michael in the mirror before you. He was devoid of any emotion except hatred; blinded by his own rage of his mother.

"All I ever wanted was love and affection from her, and what did I get? Nothing. She tried to kill me. But now I’ve got you and you’re the next best thing. That sickness you claim to have? You’re not wrong. I have a special kind of power running through my veins which has allowed me to infect you like a parasite; burrowing itself into your organs and attaching it to most vital ones.”

Michael gets up to dress himself then walks around to the front of the bed to undo the cuffs holding you up. You collapse into your bed and rub where the handcuffs had been digging into. He leans on the bed frame, peering down at your still body; laying motionless in a state of shock. “There are a few ways this could play out. I could kill you myself, you could die from the apocalypse, or you can be my slave.”

The reality of his seriousness and your future to come begins to sink in but you don’t move. You lay there on the bed, a ruin of cum, sweat, and fear for what to do. Michael turns around to check himself in the mirror; tidying up his hair, refusing to look at you but he offers his own form of an olive branch, “If you want to play along, your father knows where I am. Otherwise have fun rotting with the rest of the world.”

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