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mint-yooxgi · 2 years ago

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{24} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 7,479

Warnings: Intense/Extreme Violence: descriptions of past mental and physical torture, past verbal abuse, past physical abuse, Mental Illness: depression, anxiety, Extreme Blood and Gore, Slut Shaming, the guys really take no liberties with Miyeon, heavy angst. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: It’s a little shorter than the usual chapters, but I like where I ended it, so I hope you all too. Next chapter will contain all the repercussions of the trauma and events that have taken place, so you’re all in for a wild ride. Please heed the warnings, the guys are extremely violence towards Miyeon in this chapter, and it’s describes in detail. Also, Kuroo will be back next chapter, I promise! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty - Part Twenty-One - Part Twenty-Two - Twenty-Three - Mini Masterlist

The moment the eight of them return to the lobby, they can immediately tell that something is wrong. Not only did they just go on some wild goose chase for the past two hours following leads that only led to dead ends, but not once did they see sight nor hear any sounds of Miyeon, Dimitri, or Malik.

To say they are frustrated would be an understatement.

That’s when they all inhale sharply. Your scent is the strongest it’s ever been throughout the foyer, and the house is quiet. Too quiet.

They spot the blood. The drops of red drip almost delicately in a trail across the floor, smeared in some places as if there had been a struggle the entire time.

Panic seizes every single one of them, especially when they all take deep breaths only to scent someone they had been desperately hunting this entire evening.

A weak mewl comes from the hallway leading to your room. A sound which has all of their spines straightening. Fear flashes across their faces as they all share a look between each other.

Thirty seconds.

Thirty seconds is all it takes until they hear the most heart wrenching, gut twisting scream pierce the air. A deafening shriek filled with nothing but terror, pain, and desperation.

Their blood runs cold.

Never have any of them moved as fast as they did then, instantly appearing inside the dance studio to see the chill inducing sight before them.

Blood covers a good portion of the floor, one of the mirrors shattered along the wall. Glass litters the ground, a pool of bloody vomit resting beside the debris. Though, that’s not the worst part.

The worst part is the chair that they see placed directly in the centre of the room. Your beaten and bloody figure is tied to it as Miyeon stands over you, a wicked smile on her face. Your whole body is limp, head tilted forward as fresh cuts line your entire figure, or at least, what they can see of your back.

Mingi nearly collapses to his knees right then and there, along with both San and Wooyoung. Each male is utterly stunned, nothing but raw, hot fury coursing through their veins as they take in this heartbreaking sight before them.

“I was wondering when you would be joining us,” Miyeon smirks, not even bothering to look at any of them.

They only allow themselves one second to process their emotions before they’re moving.

Before she even has the chance to glance upwards, Miyeon is thrown off of you. Eight earth shattering roars reverberate around the entire room, shaking the entire house and causing more glass to fall from the tarnished mirror.

Furious, terrified, and thirsting for blood doesn’t even begin to describe how all of them are feeling right now. However, what each male does know, is that they are absolutely horrified by what has occurred to you inside your very own home. Miyeon is most certainly not leaving here alive. Hell, she’s lucky to even still be breathing as the entire wrath of the Eight Kings comes crashing down upon her.

The sound of another mirror shattering fills the room as Miyeon is pinned to the wall. A gasp escapes her as her eyes go wide, coughing up blood as she’s held captive by a hand tearing straight through her gut.

Never have any of them seen Yeosang move so fast. The anger radiating off of him is unlike anything before: his eyes as black as night, and soul calling for Miyeon to be shredded apart for ever daring to touch you. There is a darkness to him that even he has never experienced before as his whole body shakes, claws extending within Miyeon’s body as he tears through her gut. Slowly, his features begin to shift, unable to control the way his teeth elongate into fangs, or how his pitch black eyes sink into his skull as his ears sharpen into points.

On one side of her, twisting her arm in an unnatural angle as the bones continue to snap, rests Hongjoong. A snarl pulls at his features, eyes pure black as nothing but low growls escape him with every breath.

Seonghwa mirrors him perfectly on the opposite side, claws sinking into her flesh as he twists her arm in another unnatural angle. Not even the satisfying pop of her shoulders dislocating serves to offer them any sense of relief for the moment, needing to tear her apart limb from limb, and then absolutely incinerate the remains for ever laying a hand on you.

“You wanted my attention so bad, and now you’re going to take everything I give you.” Yeosang snarls, twisting his hand inside her gut and hearing as she whimpers in response. “I’ll make you regret ever laying a single finger on My Queen.” His glare is deadly, sharp. A look so full of disgusted hatred, and unquestionably unforgiving. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish you’d never met me before in your life.”

The way they can feel Miyeon attempt to reach out to continue shredding through your mind has them seeing red.

Immediately, both Jongho and Mingi are spearing her mind viciously, trapping her within the confines of her own head. The way she cries out in pain form their intrusion isn’t enough. It will never be enough. Not after what she’s done to you.

The whole while this is occurring, Yunho, Wooyoung, and San all rush over to you. This time, when San reaches your front, he cannot prevent himself from falling to his knees at the sight that greets him. An image that has tears springing to both his and Wooyoung’s eyes instantly.

Your head still leans forward, unsupported by your neck as blood drips down almost every free inch of your body. Your left ankle is swollen, along with your right wrist. A dagger slices clean through your left hand, blade embedded in the arm of the chair as it pins you in place. Another, familiar pommel sticks out of your right thigh.

Though, that’s not the worst of it.

Each male saw the four punctures on your back as they rushed over to you, imitating the wounds you received from those arrows all those weeks ago. Wooden splinters and glass shards litter your entire body, concentrated the most along the skin of your back and arms.

Blood trickles from your mouth, face beaten and swollen as blood drips from all of your cuts and scrapes. Your neck is littered with incisions. Punctures line either side of your throat, a clear indication of where nails have sunk into your flesh and drawn blood.

A larger, much deeper slash rests along your upper chest, along with the entire length of your left arm, trailing from your shoulder all the way to your wrist. Though, the largest cut seems to be one that starts from the right side of your lower stomach and trails upwards over the centre of your chest before just missing your bra which hangs on by literal threads, only to continue for a short slash just above it.

San’s entire body begins to shake, his eyes bleeding black as he zeroes in on the mark carved into the skin of your chest in the ancient tongue. From the way he can hear Wooyoung’s breathing deepen beside him, he knows his brother isn’t fairing any better.

There, sitting upon your chest, bleeding red with your blood, rests the most vile word known to them imaginable. No direct translation of such a word can ever be found in any book, but the meaning and intent is clear. Even the closest translations aren’t nearly as bad as the meaning behind such a word, for it encompasses all and none at the same time.

Vile, worthless slut. Undesirable. Unloveable.

Taking a deep breath, San steadies his nerves.

“Baby?” His voice comes out much weaker than he wants, but there’s no way for him to control the emotions swimming through him at this very second. “Baby, can you hear me?”

Your eyes are glazed over, nearly rolling into the back of your head as you groan. You barely manage to raise your chin, but each male can tell it’s only subconscious at this point. You’re almost too far gone.

“Kill me,” your voice is the weakest it’s ever been as the whole room goes silent, each male’s heart stopping for a brief moment as your words wash over them. “Just kill me.”

More tears gather in San’s eyes, falling freely down his face as his heart squeezes painfully in his chest. He can sense Wooyoung shaking beside him, Yunho fairing no better as San spares a glance upwards to see the male standing directly behind you. The elder male’s hands are frozen in the air, halfway in placing them onto the sides of your head as he was about to attempt to free your mind from Miyeon’s hold.

The sound of Miyeon’s maniacal laughter fills the room, more blood spilling from her lips.

“I broke her!” Nothing but unfiltered glee resonates within her voice as she turns her head in your direction. “I finally broke her!” She cackles once more, coughing in the next moment as Yeosang tears his hand from her gut only to shove it into her right lung next. “Have fun with your useless doll.”

In the blink of an eye, Wooyoung has stood back to his feet. His entire body trembles as he begins to walk over to Miyeon still being pinned to the mirror. Slowly, his claws extend, chest heaving as nothing but pure hatred floods his veins.

Furious doesn’t even begin to describe how Wooyoung is feeling. Not only did Miyeon have the audacity to invade their home, but she dared lay her filthy hands on you. His precious Angel is beaten and bloody, lost in the recesses of your own mind because of her. Not to mention she’s been torturing you in his dance studio. A place that was all his own. A place that he hadn’t even gotten the chance to share with you yet, and now, your first memory of the room where one of his oldest and deepest passions comes to life will forever be tainted by her.

The sound of hissing meets each one of their ears, poison beginning to drip onto the floor as it seeps from his claws. Not just any poison. Wooyoung’s most deadly poison that he’s ever had the pleasure of creating.

Yeosang barely manages to tear himself away from Miyeon as Wooyoung steps in front of her. A wicked smile is on the younger’s lips, eyes crazed as he meets her gaze.

A pause. Silence.

A dull thunk resounds around the room as Wooyoung instantly has his hand around her throat, shoving her harshly into the broken mirror behind her. His claws pierce her flesh, the poison burning her skin on contact as she screams from the pain.

Wooyoung’s chest heaves, eyes long since having bled black as he watches deep purple veins begin to appear along Miyeon’s skin as the poison takes hold. He tightens his grip.

“You dare touch My Angel?” His voice is low: ominous and threatening. “You’re lucky to even be alive right now, Mimi.”

The way he hisses out her old nickname has a shiver of fear rushing down her spine. Already, the effects of the poison are taking hold, the blood spilling from her beginning to turn black as it burns her from the inside out. Slowly.

“When we’re done with you, there will be nothing left.” Wooyoung snarls, hearing his brothers growl their agreement from around him.

Backing away, Wooyoung makes sure to leave his claws embedded in her skin as he shreds into her throat. Not enough to kill her just yet, but enough to leave deep gouges in his wake.

Just as Wooyoung steps away, Yeosang is back to take his place. Another hole is ripped into Miyeon as he shoves his hand into her stomach. In the blink of an eye, he’s tossing her onto the floor behind him, right between Mingi and Jongho, who stand waiting with weapons in both of their hands.

Instantly, Mingi is crushing Miyeon’s hand beneath his foot, a blade being shoved through her one shoulder as he pins her down. A position Seonghwa is quick to mirror on her opposite side as he shoves a blade of his own into her other shoulder while crushing her wrist beneath his one foot.

Miyeon’s legs kick helplessly out below her, soon being pinned down by both Hongjoong and Yeosang as each male steps on her knees. A satisfying crunch can be heard as they do so, wicked grins pulling at all of their faces all the while.

By her feet, Jongho now stands. An axe rests over his shoulder as he stares down at her with nothing but pure malice in his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he tightens his grip on the handle.

All the while, two males continue to do their utmost to help you in whatever ways they can for the moment.

As soon as Wooyoung had began to walk over to Miyeon, San had went to reach for the dagger embedded in your one hand.

“San,” Yunho warns, a worried look being sent his way. “If you so much as touch that dagger while she’s in this state, her mind could be lost forever.”

Pain is such a fickle thing.

“Then hurry up and do something about it!” He retorts, panic and worry clear on his features as he continues to kneel in front of you for the moment.

Without wasting another second, Yunho’s hands gently place themselves onto the sides of your head, fingers pressing into your temples. His eyes close, beginning to delve into the deepest recesses of your mind, and what he finds waiting for him has tears immediately springing to his eyes.

Never before has Yunho seen your mindscape this dark. The barren wasteland laid out before him is the worst he’s ever seen it, scraps of dull memories torn asunder littering various areas around him. Not even on that day that you broke down in front of all of them was your mind this bad. Hell, if it weren’t for the scattered memories, or the faint sobbing he can hear in the distance, he’d swear he was looking through the mind of someone who had died.

A hissing voice spewing the harshest insults inside of your mind draws his attention.

Delving deeper, Yunho’s breath hitches in his throat. His eyes shift restlessly beneath his lids as he searches for you everywhere within your own mind. Still, that voice echoes shamelessly, spitting venom at you with every chance it gets.

The worst part is, you believe it. Whatever Miyeon did to you, she purposely made that voice return, and now, you believe it once more.

Darker and darker it becomes, Yunho noticing false memories being embedded into your consciousness the deeper he goes. False memories of the eight of them berating you, and gazing upon you with the most vile looks of contempt he’s ever seen. Looks of which he knows would never dare cross any of their features when gazing upon you.

The only problem is, he cannot remove them quite yet. Not while you’re still trapped within the confines of your own mind. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and he most certainly cannot risk losing you. He would never forgive himself if he did.

Frantically, he searches for you. Yet, despite everywhere he looks, he cannot seem to find you. Your sobs continue to echo louder and louder, that voice a throbbing shout now as it surrounds him from every angle.

He can tell that you’re slipping, and fast.

With everything that he is, and with all that he has, Yunho latches onto your mind. Just as he did on that day you came back pierced by arrows, he tethers your mind to his. This time, though, he sends soothing thoughts down the mental link, coaxing you to give him something, anything, as to a hint on where he can find you within your own mind.

“Come on, Petal,” he mumbles, eyes still fluttering every which way beneath his lids. “Come back to me. To us.”

It’s as if you’ve heard his every plea, even if only subconsciously.

Only once has Yunho ever had the privilege to glance your soul. Whether you were aware that you had been showing him or not, he’s still not entirely sure. However, what he does know, is that your life-force is the most vibrant, brilliant, and absolutely magnificent thing he has ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes upon. Besides you, of course. The fact that it’s apart of you only makes it that much more special.

The faintest glimmer of your soul begins to shine through, flickering beside him as he continues to traverse your mindscape. In fact, it startles him so much that he falters in his step for a moment as he watches that little orb take shape in front of his very eyes.

He swallows thickly, rushing after it the moment that it darts away from him. It’s almost as if it’s telling him to hurry, for you don’t have much time left before you fully succumb to the darkness of your own mind.

In the distant, a figure curled in on themselves begins to appear, a shadow towering over them. The figure trembles like a leaf in the wind, shivering as the shadow berates them, kicking them and beating them in every way imaginable. Desperately, the figure covers their ears with their hands, as if to attempt to block out the shadow in any way that they can to no avail.

Yunho’s heart aches as he knows that that figure is you.

Briefly, that little orb pauses just above your shaking form on the ground, as if to say ��look here!’. Then, once it deems Yunho has seen what it’s wanted to show him, the little orb is slowly sinking to the ground before being reabsorbed by you.

You don’t even notice.

Reaching out, Yunho gently caresses you mind with his own.

The entirety of your mindscape rumbles, and that shadow over you seems to pause it’s movements momentarily. You, on the other hand, freeze in your spot. Slowly but surely, you begin to raise your head.

Petal, Yunho’s soft voice calls out to you, his heart aching as he steps in closer. Petal, please. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’re here now. I’m right here.

Lies! The shadow hisses, it’s voice sounding like a mixture of your own degrading thoughts and Miyeon’s harsh tone. You couldn’t even save yourself, so you had to conjure up an image of a man who doesn’t even love you to save the day. After all, who could ever love you?

That’s not true, Petal. He attempts to keep his voice steady; even. You know that’s not true.

Yunho goes to take another step in closer, only for him to hit an invisible barrier of some sort. Desperately, his hands press against the mental block, doing whatever he can to reach out to you for the moment.

See? See? He doesn’t even want to get anywhere near a vile creature such as yourself! He can’t. He’s too disgusted by you to try. The shadow spits, cackling maniacally in the next moment as you curl back in on yourself.

No, Petal. Don’t listen to a word she says. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Yunho pleas for you to listen to him. To look at him. Please, Petal. You’re not alone. I’m here now. Please, just let me in.

The barrier falters slightly for a moment, so Yunho is quick to continue.

With everything that I am, I am so in love with you. Please, you know that I am. More than anything. I will never leave you. I’m right here. Softly, he calls your name, and he watches you lift your head to meet his gaze. The barrier begins to fade. You are My Muse. My Petal. My Queen.

He hears your breath hitch, and he knows he’s not the only one.

That shadow begins to fade.

You are safe. We’re here now, and I swear on my life I will let nothing harm you again. Yunho breathes, eyes flitting everywhere over your figure as you slowly begin to sit up. You are more than worthy. You always have been, and you always will be.

He watches you begin to stand, the shadow screaming beside you as your body begins to glow faintly, getting stronger and stronger with each passing moment.

You are loved. Fuck- are you ever loved. Yunho finally breaks through the barrier, rushing over to you and pulling you into his arms. By me. By all of Your Kings. By your family. By your friends, and so many more.

You came back for me. A sob tears from your throat as you bury your face into his shoulder, arms clinging onto him for dear life as you absolutely shine in his arms.

I promised you that I would never let you suffer these thoughts alone. I’m right here, and I always will be. He squeezes you tighter in his hold, pulling away only briefly to stare deeply in your eyes. Now, let’s get you home.

The shadow has completely dissipated by now, a lightness returning to your mind as he begins to lead you through your mindscape and back out again. Yunho even goes so far as to hold your hand in his, guiding you gently as he rids your mind of all of these negative and false thoughts.

Every fake memory Miyeon has implemented inside of your mind, he burns, allowing you to recognize the invalidity of each as you pass them by. A fact which is made all the more easier when you begin to point them out to him along the way, muttering about how you just knew that they couldn’t be true. Not when you have your other memories of how they’ve always made you feel.

Of course, he’s careful not to overstep or invade any of your own personal memories. No, those are for you to share when you’re ready, or when the time is right. If you choose to share them at all.

Finally, the two of you manage to reach your void, and Yunho nearly collapses at the sight before him. No wonder you couldn’t reach out to them to warn them of what had been going on. Miyeon had literally trapped you within your own mind with no escape.

Taking a deep breath, he destroys the barrier without a second thought. Instantly, that mist begins to roll back in, covering over their strings once more.

Again, Yunho’s heart aches as his eyes scan the cracked and shattered walls of your void, noticing the drained lake with an unfamiliar stone resting at the bottom of it. A stone of which he’s quick to dispose of, summoning it to his hand and crushing it to dust within his palm.

Slowly, the cracks begin to mend, and the lake of your void begins to fill with that all too familiar black water.

Turning to you, he tenderly cups the side of your face with his free hand. Ready?

You nod, your lips pulling upwards softly. Ready.

Without another thought, Yunho pulls you out of your own mind and back to the reality before you just as Mingi stabs Miyeon in her shoulder.

Time works very differently inside one’s own mind.

Blinking groggily, your vision begins to clear. Faintly, you can see someone kneeling before you, tears falling freely down their cheeks. Another blink, and your eyes finally focus in on San kneeling before you, his hands shaking as he holds them in the air halfway between your body and his own.

He’s still wearing your sweater.

“Sannie?” Your voice comes out raw, throat aching from the shrill scream of terror that had escaped you only ten minutes earlier.

“Baby? Oh, thank fuck,” he sobs, reaching for you and cupping your face tenderly in his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

More apologies keep falling from his lips as you notice Wooyoung coming to kneel beside him. Tears of his own line the younger’s eyes, falling freely as he sees your own back in proper focus for the moment. A sense of relief floods their veins. However, they’re not in the clear just yet.

Slowly, San reaches for the dagger embedded in your hand.

“I’m so sorry, Baby,” he keeps his voice low as he notices tears gathering in the corners of your own eyes. “I have to pull this out. I promise I’ll make it quick. I’ll-“

San chokes on his own words, throat tightening as he sees your whole body trembling from the pain.

Instantly, Wooyoung’s hand is on the hilt of the other dagger in your thigh.

“We promise to make it all better.” He swallows his emotions for the moment, tears blurring his vision. “We have to take these out before we can start healing you, but I promise we’ll make all the pain go away.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, nodding as much as you can for the moment as you brace yourself for the removal of the two blades still embedded in your body.

“On the count of three,” San begins. “One.”

“Two,” Wooyoung breathes.

“Three.” The grin on Jongho’s face is downright insane as he brings his axe down over Miyeon’s left ankle, but all you can hear is the dull thunk of the blade sinking into the floor behind you.

Just as they promised, the removal of the blades is quick, but unfortunately, not painless. The sharp sting of the daggers leaving your skin has you squeezing your eyes shut as your tears finally begin to fall silently down your face. Your head is thrown back, and you feel someone place their hands against the side of your temples once more in comfort.

Your eyes fling open, breath catching in your throat momentarily as your whole body tenses. That is, until you see Yunho gazing down at you with nothing but worry shining within his orbs as tears of his own trail down his cheeks.

Softly, he smiles down at you, caressing your features tenderly with his thumbs. A silent reassurance that he’s right here. That’s they’re all right here, even if you cannot see them.

Your whole body aches, and you can feel the threat of unconsciousness lingering over you once more as your body begins to shut down. Breathing becomes increasingly difficult, your lungs screaming in protest with each inhale.

Wooyoung’s soft call of your name is synonymous with San’s frantic call of Seonghwa’s.

Clutching the dagger in his hand, Wooyoung draws your attention to him once more.

“Stay with us, Angel. It’s almost over, I promise.” He keeps his tone low, gentle as he does whatever he can to reassure you for the moment. “I don’t smell anything, but I need to taste your blood to see if there’s any poison in your system. Is that okay with you?”

Your vision begins to blur at the corners, but you find enough energy to nod faintly in confirmation to his question.

Switching the hand that’s holding onto the dagger, Wooyoung is quick to swipe a finger along the flat of the blade. In the next second, he’s dabbing the tip of his finger against his tongue, only tasting the smallest amount possible to check for any poison.

Vaguely, you register that the hand he now has holding onto the dagger is covered in a shiny black substance. You blink, unsure of what it could be.

Both San and Yunho look at Wooyoung expectantly.

“Her blood is clean.” He states, and you hear all three of them breathe a small sigh of relief.

In the next second, you see Seonghwa appear in front of you.

The eldest’s expression falls, his entire body feeling as if he has suddenly been submerged in ice as panic seizes his very soul at seeing you in this state. Painfully, his heart squeezes in his chest.

“Oh, My Divine,” he nearly chokes on a sob, tears lining his vision as he continues to take in your beaten and bloody appearance. “I’m so sorry.”

In no time at all, both Wooyoung and San begin to heal your every wound. One works on the front of your body while the other moves to your back.

It is then that you register that Yunho has stepped away from you for the moment. However, what you fail to see is how the male moves quickly over to Miyeon’s figure still being pinned to the ground by his brothers, taking Seonghwa’s place and pushing the blade deeper into her one dislocated shoulder.

Forcing your eyes to remain open becomes increasingly difficult, head spinning as your breathing begins to come in jagged pants.

“Here, My Divine,” Seonghwa is quick to create a small incision on his wrist, bringing it up to your lips immediately as he sees his blood starting to swell on his skin. “Drink this. You’ll feel much better.”

Even if you wanted to decline, you don’t think you’d have the strength to. Which is why when the eldest offers you his blood to heal you, his opposite hand coming up to help support the back of your head, you start to drink.

Your eyes fall closed, focusing on breathing through your nose for the moment and remaining conscious. The subtle taste of dark chocolate fills your senses, along with a slight tinge of iron that settles onto your tongue the more of Seonghwa’s blood you consume. With every sip, you slowly begin to feel a bit of your strength returning to your body.

After some time, Seonghwa carefully begins to pull his wrist away, moving to brush his hand over your forehead tenderly. His fingers trace the side of your face, healing the scrapes and cuts he can see for the moment. Already, the swelling is beginning to go down.

Another small sigh of relief escapes the three men surrounding you.

The bindings tying your wrists are finally snapped off, the sound once more synonymous with the thunk of Jongho’s axe as he cleaves Miyeon’s right hand from her body.

There is nothing but pure hatred shining in her tear filled gaze as she looks past all of them to see you being coddled by Seonghwa. Blood fills her mouth, and she turns her head to the side to spit it upon the ground. The black substance burns her throat, those purple veins still slowly spreading throughout her body as ice floods her system.

There’s nothing quite like the sting of your body slowly shutting down when you’re a demon. Such a poison was concocted for this very reason, meant only to affect those with demonic blood. A poison which is quick to take hold, but slow in death. One of the many reasons Wooyoung chose such a toxin to invade Miyeon’s body.

Of course, it helps that he and his brothers are all immune.

The blade Mingi has lodged in her shoulder gets twisted harshly, drawing her attention back to the males surrounding her body. Only now, San has come to join them, and he is not too fond of that harsh glare sent in your direction.

“You dare gaze upon Our Queen with such vile hatred in your eyes?” San hisses, voice low and ominous as he summons a spear to his hands. “Learn some respect.”

The tip is jabbed into the socket of Miyeon’s right eye.

A scream tears from her throat, head thrashing and only causing each of her wounds to aggravate even more as her body twitches beneath their hold.

“All of this-“ she pants, gritting her teeth as she struggles to free herself. She should have killed you when she had the chance. “All of this for some stupid, pathetic whore.”

All of their eyes flash, but again, it’s Yeosang who acts first.

Smashing through her teeth, the male tears her tongue from her throat, tossing it across the room in an instant. Leaning in, he makes sure to keep his voice low as his eyes bleed black once more. “Never shall another vile word against My Beloved be spoken by you again.”

For the first time in her entire life, and using the one eye she still has left, she glares at Yeosang. Nothing but betrayal and hatred shines in her gaze as she watches him stand back to his feet, not even sparing another glance in her direction as he begins to walk towards you still sitting in that chair.

A shriek of outrage builds in her throat, blood flowing from her wounds endlessly.

Oh, the perks of keeping their victims alive for as long as they want, making them feel every ounce of pain until all eight of them are satisfied. Finally though, it’s time to finish Miyeon off, once and for all.

Crawling on top of her, Hongjoong is quick to straddle her thighs, pinning her broken body beneath him. A maniacal grin of his own stretches across his lips, eyes blazing wildly as he looks down upon her.

“What’s the matter, Mimi?” He hums, tilting his head mockingly. “Cat got your tongue?”

Another outraged gurgle escapes her throat, beginning to choke on the blood building in her broken mouth.

A dagger appears in his hand, and he makes quick work of slicing her chest open and exposing her ribs.

“Perhaps,“ starting from the bottom, Hongjoong cracks her very first rib, “you should have,” three more ribs with each word spoken, “kept your big,” another, “fat,” another, “mouth,” and another, “shut.”

With each rib he snaps, Miyeon whimpers in pain. Tears leak freely out of her remaining eye as Hongjoong happily breaks open each and every one of her bones to expose her organs. Tearing her left lung out, he’s quick to reveal her beating heart. A frantic organ which pulses erratically as terror consumes her very soul.

An unnerving grin settles onto Hongjoong’s face as he pushes himself up from her body. Briefly, he locks gazes with Yunho, allowing a single memory to flit through the younger male’s mind.

The two of you appear to be in the garden, you resting comfortably with Hongjoong for the moment as you speak.

“There’s a few pointed things I would like to do to her for what she did to him,” a frown pulls at your features as clear venom coats your words. “To what she did to all of you.”

“Oh?” Hongjoong quirks his brow, curiosity shining in his gaze as his heart begins to pound beneath his chest. “Care to share, My Love?”

Your eyes briefly meet his own before drifting to stare intently at the fountain in front of you. You shift slightly in your seat, crossing your one leg over the other as you pull his hand further into your lap.

“I think tearing out her heart after cracking open her ribs one by one for easier access is a good start.”

Yunho inhales sharply in realization, heart pounding within his chest as his eyes flash black.

“Will you do the honours for Our Queen?” Hongjoong meets Yunho’s gaze once more, that sinister grin still tugging at his lips. I know that she’d want it to be you, since she cannot do so herself.

“With pleasure,” Yunho snarls.

His dark gaze locks in on Miyeon’s frantically beating heart as he shifts to kneel beside her, her one eye watching his every move.

“I’m surprised you even have one,” Yunho scoffs, hearing his brothers exhale short puffs of agreement from around him. Allowing his eyes to bleed black, Yunho snarls, “burn in hell.”

In the blink of an eye, Miyeon’s heart is torn right out from her chest.

A moment later, and her soul is shredded from existence.

Standing back to his feet, Yunho drops Miyeon’s heart unceremoniously beside her head. Her expression is frozen in a scream, back arching off of the floor as her one dull eye shines in terror.

Finally, they all release their hold on her body, stepping away from her in the next moment. Without wasting another second, all of them are surrounding you, needing to make sure that you’re okay and most importantly, still breathing.

Blood still covers almost every free inch of your torso, smeared across your face and neck as Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and Yeosang comfort you gently. At least your wounds have all closed by now, the majority of the swelling having gone down thanks to Seonghwa’s blood flowing through your veins.

Your one hand is gently clasped in Yeosang’s own, his thumb rubbing tenderly over the skin as Wooyoung continues to kneel before you. Jongho is quick to join Wooyoung, kneeling beside him and reaching for your other hand. Carefully, he lifts your wrist into his grasp, fingers lightly brushing over your skin as he caresses you. The tears he had so desperately been holding back begin to fall from his eyes as he takes in your bloody state.

A fact of which is mirrored by all of them, though not every man lets them fall for the moment.

“It’s over, Starlight,” Mingi breathes, his tears falling freely down his cheeks as he places a gentle hand onto your shoulder. “You’re safe now.”

“Can you stand?” Hongjoong appears in your vision, shifting beside you as he brushes a comforting hand down the side of your arm.

Weakly, you nod in response.

Slowly, you begin to push yourself forward on the chair, your entire body groaning in protest. Your joints ache, eyes squeeing shut as you hoist yourself onto your feet with the help of all of them.

Their hands are gentle; soft in their hold on you as you sway slightly. Faintly, a blanket is wrapped around your shoulders, and you turn your head just in time to see San now standing beside you as he helps to cover you up for the moment.

You blink in thanks, hands barely having the strength to clasp onto the edges of the blanket in order to wrap it fully around yourself for the moment.

“Is she-“ your voice catches in your throat, strained and raw, “is she-“

“Dead, My Love,” Hongjoong keeps his tone low, soft so as not to overwhelm you for the moment.

“She cannot hurt you anymore,” Yeosang whispers, nothing but the sincerest of promises shining behind his eyes.

“Let me-“ you swallow the dryness of your throat, “I need to see.”

“Please, My Divine,” Seonghwa shoots you a worried glance as he prevents you from turning around with a gentle hand on your back. “It is a sight you should never have to see.”

“Please,” a weak plea, as you attempt to turn once more, “I need to.”

It’s then that each male realizes just why you so desperately need to see Miyeon’s corpse. It’s not that you don’t trust that they killed her. It’s for your own confirmation, your own reassurance that she cannot hurt you anymore.

Slowly, and with all of them helping you, you turn to face what once was Miyeon’s body.

The inhale you take is small, albeit sharp as you gaze upon her ruined corpse. Her broken ribs stick into the air at odd angles, body contorted in pain as you spot a bloody lump right beside her head.

Instantly, your shoulders are relaxing, a sigh of relief escaping you as your whole body seemingly deflates. Tears gather in the corners of your eyes as you finally feel a sense of comfort and safety wrap itself around you like the blanket you so desperately cling to that rests upon your shoulders.

Finally, you no longer have to be brave.

Nodding faintly, you go to take a step to exit the room, only for your legs to falter beneath you. Immediately, they’re all surrounding you, and you find yourself collapsing into the nearest male’s arms.

Seonghwa holds you close to his chest, feeling the way your whole body trembles in his grasp as vicious sobs wrack your entire form. Tears fall freely down your face as you cling to him for dear life, allowing yourself to feel all your emotions that you so desperately kept at bay the whole time you were with Miyeon.

That’s when they notice, your void is down.

Every single one of your thoughts slams into them, your emotions washing over them as their hearts squeeze painfully in their chests. Each male cannot prevent the way tears now flow freely from their own eyes as they surround you on all sides. Slowly, a gentle hand is pressed onto your form by all of them, letting you know that they’re right here, and that they’re not going anywhere any time soon.

They will protect you with their lives, even if it’s the last thing that they ever do.

Your next words absolutely shatter their hearts.

“She made me believe you weren’t coming back,” you sob, grip tightening its hold on Seonghwa’s shirt desperately. “I thought-“ you choke on your breath, eyes squeezing shut, “I was so scared.”

San is the next to embrace you, pressing himself against your back as the eldest pulls you in closer to his chest.

“We’re right here, Baby,” he whispers, voice catching the slightest bit as he is overcome by his own emotions. “I promise it’s all over now.”

More violent sobs wrack your fragile form.

“We won’t let anything else hurt you,” Yunho is the next to surround you, caressing your mind softly with his own and offering you any and all comfort that he can for the moment.

The pain filled wails you release torment them in every way imaginable, nothing but regret and self-loathing filling each male as they watch you fall apart right before their very eyes. If they had just stopped to think for one second, or if one of them had stayed back with you, none of this would have happened. Miyeon wouldn’t have been able to touch you, and you wouldn’t be hanging on to the last bits of your waning sanity as you absolutely break down for the moment.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Jongho promises, being the next one to surround you.

“She can’t hurt you anymore,” Wooyoung’s voice is low, attaching himself to the pile of males embracing you.

“You’re safe now,” Yeosang whispers, eyes shining with unshed tears as he clings onto that ever growing circle of his brothers around you. “I promise.”

“Tell us what you need, Starlight,” Mingi adds himself to the pile, speaking softly. “Tell us what you need, and we’ll do everything in our power to provide it for you.”

Hesitantly, Hongjoong stands off to the side. He cannot help but blame himself for everything that’s happened. It was his responsibility to make sure they could protect you. It was his fault their wards couldn’t keep Miyeon out. He allowed her to slip right through the cracks, torturing you inside your own home. The fact that they had no idea what was going on for two hours has his chest heaving, a crushing feeling filling his lungs with every breath.

The worst part? Miyeon used his own damn dagger to torture you with.

Tears fall freely down his face as Hongjoong is overcome by his own emotions. It’s as if he was the very one who inflicted such brutal torture on you. He might as well have been, given how badly he’s screwed up.

It’s your own voice that manages to pull him out of his own thoughts.

“All of you,” you breathe, a tremble to your voice as you squeeze them tighter. “I need all of you.”

Whatever thoughts that had been swimming through Hongjoong’s mind vanish in an instant as he nearly collapses onto the pile of his brothers embracing you from every angle. His sobs echo alongside your own, the others fairing no better as they offer you whatever comfort they can for the moment.

Your entire body relaxes, sobs beginning to quiet down for the moment as you bask in the feeling of Your Kings surrounding you from every side. Each of them holds on to your mind just as tenderly as they embrace you from every angle.

Finally, you are safe. Finally, you can relax. They will watch over you as you rest, protecting you with everything that they are. You just know that they will. Nothing will ever harm you again. Not while they are around.

Closing your eyes, you feel yourself slowly succumb to the darkness once more.

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miniwrites1 · 2 years ago

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In the Shadow of Azkaban - Dark! Sebastian Sallow

Requested!

Word Count - 1.2k

Themes - Angst

(Warnings will be added as the story progresses)

As a potions master, you were used to having to find your own ingredients, whether it be a trip to the Forbidden Forest or simply stopping by J Pippin’s Potions; it was a hazard of the role that you’d taken when agreeing to teach potions at Hogwarts, being invited back by Headmaster Black.

You’d made a name for yourself rather quickly in the wizarding world, producing a curse-reducing potion to aid those who had suffered at the hands of dark wizards, extending their lives and reducing their pain. It had been a breakthrough, with many people telling you it was impossible. But being undeterred, you pursued it. The media coverage you’d had after the breakthrough had been intense; the Daily Prophet had contacted you daily, standing outside your home and sending letters until you’d finally relented into giving them a quote to run on the front page.

“(Y/N), what made you want to create a cure for pain?” A journalist asked, magic quill and parchment ready to scribble down your every word. You paused for a moment to think.

“After seeing a close friend be killed by a curse, I knew I needed to do something. She was in agony every day up until her death. It is unfair to allow those cursed to suffer for the rest of their lives.” You responded calmly, trying to keep your composure; you could feel your nose tingle slightly and a small lump forming in your throat, a sign that you were heading towards tears. You had remembered Anne, Sebastian’s sister, who had passed away not long before you had finished testing the potion. You’d sent her letters about your discoveries, ensuring to keep in contact with her throughout the journey of your potion craft. She seemed excited at the thought of a potion designed specifically for someone like her; however she’d never had the chance to use it.

You remembered visiting her a few days before she’d passed, using the floo network to get to Feldcroft. You’d appeared outside the front of her home covered in soot, yet she’d invited you inside anyway, glad to see a friendly face and embracing you in a hug as soon as she saw you. You could tell she was in pain, which only made you fight harder to find a solution.

Days later, you received an owl to your home informing you of her death; it was devastating to you. After everything that had happened with Sebastian and the death of her uncle, you’d know that she was struggling, but it added a new layer of pain she couldn’t stand any longer; she’d battled for six long years until she’d finally passed away.

And now you were the potions master at Hogwarts, spending your days teaching children to brew potions that could heal or kill other people. Somehow you’d still found time to continue your research, a potion that could ease a curse was one thing, but a potion that could cure a curse was a whole other thing entirely.

As your students arrived at your classroom, you looked at their faces, smiling and happy mostly, remembering that feeling of walking into your first potions lesson with Sebastian at your side. It was a mere memory now; Sebastian was locked away in Azkaban, unseen and unheard, with only the Deatheaters for company. Thinking back, you felt a small amount of shame in turning him in, having him expelled and sent to Azkaban for killing his uncle, but at the time, it felt like the right thing to do. He needed to know that what he had done was unforgivable in the eyes of many and that the dark arts were not something to be meddled with.

Sighing softly, you stood up from your desk at the front of the room and sharply wrote your name on the board, causing all the students to focus their eyes forward; the sound of chalk grating across the board was enough to catch anyone’s attention, let alone first years. “Good morning class; I’m Professor (Y/L/N).”

Sebastian’s POV

Sebastian flipped through the Daily Prophet lazily as he sat on the floor in his cell, a small number of articles grabbing his attention, mainly those about spells and dark wizards. He sighed to himself; he’d been locked in Azkaban for seven years from the age of sixteen until twenty-three, having to beg for scraps of food from other inmates during his one hour of freedom from his solitary cell.

He was classed as almost reformed, showing that he’d paid his debts to society for what he’d done, but he would always be branded as a murderer.

“One more year.” He mumbled to himself as he made another mark on the wall of his cell. He’d been counting down the days until his freedom, waiting for the day he could finally feel a fresh breeze and the grass under his feet. That day couldn’t come soon enough. He felt his heart rate pick up as he thought of everything he’d do once he was free. The first would be to find Anne; he wanted to ensure she was still alive, even from a distance, as he doubted she would see him. He couldn’t blame her, not after everything that had happened.

The second would be to find (Y/N), the one who had sentenced him to a life of pain and sorrow. He blamed you for everything that had happened to him, swearing to himself that he would hunt you down until his last dying breath to make you pay for what you’d done to him.

Anger flared through his veins, a visceral sense of wanting to hurt you taking over. He wanted, no needed to make you pay for everything. He would stop at nothing to get to you; even if you were in the world’s most guarded, secretive place, he would find you. Flipping over the copy of the Daily Prophet he was holding, he noticed the headline.

“Troll slaying Witch discovers a pain-reducing potion.”

He glanced down at the photo below the headline, anger coursing more furiously than ever when he saw your face beaming at the camera, pride in your accomplishments shining through. He wanted to tear the paper in half, seeing that you’d made something of yourself flipped a switch inside of his mind. He didn’t just want to make you pay; he wanted to make you suffer in the most painful ways possible. He wanted to rip everything away from you, just as you had done to him.

His eyes floated to the sub heading.

"Professor (Y/L/N) dedicates the breakthrough to Anne Sallow - Passed 17th November 1896."

Sebastian closed his eyes, feeling tears brimming at the corners, throwing the paper across the room. He'd never had the chance to say goodbye, never had the chance to save her. Through his sadness emerged an unwavering feeling of anger.

You knew how much Anne had meant to him, Ominis had too. Why had neither of you contacted him? His anger only grew more as he thought.

In his mind he began to piece together a plan of how to get to you once he was free. He knew it would be a mammoth task to try and get near you again; however his Slytherin genes weren’t just for show; slowly he’d find a way to you, break you down bit by bit and ruin you in the worst possible way.

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow oneshot #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow imagine #hogwarts legacy reader insert #hogwarts legacy imagine

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emma-o-yt · 8 months ago

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Do Erehisus and Eremikas even like Historia and Mikasa

Reformatted from reddit.

I think that Eremika (Eren × Mikasa) is an okay ship. I appreciate what Isayama was trying to do but the execution was less than pleasurable.

The whole point is that despite being in love with each other, Eren and Mikasa cannot be together. Their goals, their characters simply contradict.

Eren is focused on moving forward, he can't appreciate what was beside him (Mikasa). He can't even think that Mikasa would ever leave him until 139. Settling down, a domestic homelife is unappealing.

Mikasa is controlled by fear, after losing her family twice (first by the kidnappers then the fall of Shiganshina) which is what causes her obsession with Eren. Despite her strength, all she wants is a quiet life. Her arc is about overcoming fear, she kills Eren but keeps him alive with her memories. She gives birth to new life with Jean, starting a new eternal family.

But fuck that shit!

The slutshaming of Mikasa

Mikasa has been shamed by die hard Eremika shippers for "spreading her legs" and daring to find a new man after Eren. All those themes, character arcs, non of it matters to these misogynists.

Some of them have even gone on to lie and say that Mikasa is wearing a purity ring and not a wedding ring, because a woman is sinful if she's not a virgin.

The denial that she got married to most likely Jean is insane too. Armin is not that tall and the anime even adds a blurry scene of him in the credits. The hubby is not blonde either, I eyedropped his hair and it's green due to the lighting. Looks like dirty blonde hair mixed with green to me.

They also do the whole Jojo fan thing of creating fake interviews, no Isayama did not confirm that the man is Armin or she is single.

They want her to remain obsessed with Eren for eternity and grieving.

They do not like Mikasa, they just like their ship.

Eren and the aryan waifu

I have a strong dislike for Erehisu (Eren × Historia) due to redditors.

The biggest reason is that it's pure fantasy. The themes, characters, everything was made up. The largest example of mass delusion in modern day history.

They project themselves unto Eren, the chad that after destroying all his enemies returns home an settles down with his aryan wife and child.

Historia can't have any importance except for giving birth to Eren's kid. Ymir is presented as a predator for tempting Historia into lesbianism, Eren fucking her is the cure.

It only seems like they "like" Historia because they despise Mikasa. Mikasa is Asian instead of white, and she will be punished for her love for Eren by being cucked and dying by his hand.

All these fantasises of Historia hating Mikasa, calling her a slave. Historia who in canon jokingly teased Mikasa for her crush on Eren and shipped the two would never.

It is once again pure misogyny.

They can't even keep consistent with supposed themes. They say Eren is doing a full rumbling to keep his child from war yet they say that Eren will restart the rumbling through touching his child, thereby involving her unwillingly with war.

They do not like Eren or Historia, just Erehisu.

Outro

I mean some Eremikas and Erehisus of course, if it doesn't apply to you, I'm not talking about you.

#anti eremika #anti erehisu #anti eren #aot critical #eren x mikasa #eren x historia #attack on titan #anti shipper

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peachymilkandcream · 6 days ago

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Payment|Part 5|Mafia Levi x Evelyn

WARNINGS: noncon/dubcon, big age difference, kidnapping, slavery, violence, power imbalance, implied somnophilia, forced pregnancies, mind breaking, yandere behaviour, yandere themes, forced exhibitionism, sexual coercion, blackmail, etc.

===============================================

Over the course of a few days Evelyn saw little of her captor. Apparently his recent run in with Kenny had annoyed him to a point where he needed space. She had fucked up in getting the attention of another man. One who, according to Levi, didn't understand what was Levi's and what was free game.

"He's your uncle and you don't trust him?" She had foolishly asked.

"Of course not. He's still pissy that I was the one who brought our family notoriety and not him. He's the oldest member and yet I brought us out of the slums. He'd do anything to put me in my place so to speak."

The idea of what that would entail sent shivers down her spine.

"Good. You should be scared. It seems you have the habit of attracting the attention of some of the most dangerous men in the country."

Evelyn huddled under the covers, still watching Levi pack his briefcase. "Then are you sure it's a good idea to be gone today-?"

"No but I have no choice. One of my new clients won't buy unless they meet me in person. Some people have trust issues."

She bit back a remark about how she wouldn't trust Levi either, but that would lead to consequences.

"Just stay put in here and you should be fine. Don't cause me any problems."

Without so much as a backwards glance he leaves, resigning her to a day of staying by herself in this penthouse. With nothing to do but wait around until he came back. Rich people could be such assholes.

==============================================

As the long and boring day wore on, Evelyn just needed to get out. Lying in bed all day was doing nothing for her brain activity. She at least needed to walk around the apartment and hopefully do something to entertain her until Levi came back. Surely there was no harm in that.

Right?

While exploring, she took note of what kind of a person Levi was. The type to only have one room entirely decorated, one where he clearly met with his "influential people", as he called them. Probably to look like he was a man of the arts who had taste, and not some back alley thug who delighted in tormenting others.

It took a while. but she thought she had explored it all. Noting how the front door was of course locked and couldn't even be budged with all of her might and the help of a chair battering ram.

On her final try to get it open it was caught in mid air.

Evelyn spun and looked into the wrinkled face of the man from the party.

"Now what are you doing trying to escape the runt?"

Fear gripped her instantly, the way in which Levi spoke of Kenny sending shivers down her spine. Was any of it true? If it was, Levi wasn't here to protect her.

"Nothing to say huh. Shame. You're a pretty thing, it's too bad you're roped in with that shorty. Probably doesn't even give you a good time."

As he stepped forward, Evelyn inched back. Until her back hit the door.

"I feel sorry for you, I really do. Which is why I'm going to help you."

A chunk of fear fell away, replacing it with hope. "Really?"

"Of course I am. I can't very well allow a young lady like yourself to go her whole life pleasing such an irritable boy."

Tears of gratitude started to well up in her eyes. "Thank you so much- You don't understand how much this means to me."

He smirked. "Oh I think I do little lady."

With a sudden motion he grabs her arm, throwing her to the carpeted floor.

Evelyn tries to overcome the shock and begins to stand, stopping as the chair she had been previously using to make her escape is brought down her back. The broken wooden pole then used to pierce her leg's flesh, making her scream in agony as she felt the body on top of her.

Hurt and in a vulnerable position Evelyn still tries to fight back the roaming and bold hands grasping at whatever was in reach. The long shirt of Levi's pushed away as he teased her most sensitive spots.

"I wonder just how many vile things Levi's done to you. Just stop fighting and I'll let this one be enjoyable for you."

That doesn't stop her, she continues to fight as his long fingers pierce her core, trying to coat a reaction out of her. Words she had learned were useless in these situations, men like Kenny, like Levi, couldn't be reasoned or bargained with. Better to use your strength to fight back.

The firmness pressing into her rear sends her into more of a desperate fit. Sure, like Levi he was probably getting off to the struggle, but the alternative was to lie down and take it. And that, she would never do. No matter what happens, at least she can live with herself later and know she tried. She tried her best.

Just as she thinks is all over for her the door bursts open, and a gunshot rings out in the air.

At first she thought it was her, finally meeting a cruel end. That Kenny was going to get his final revenge by killing her the moment Levi stepped back in the door. But no, it was Kenny who screamed and rolled off of her, clutching his shoulder as blood oozed out of it.

Evelyn looked back up to Levi, a pissed and raging mess shooting daggers at his uncle as the two guards who Levi had brought with him held Kenny in place.

"You disgusting sack of shit. You'll pay for this. Pay for touching her. What kind of coward goes after another man's woman when he isn't around?"

Kenny smirks, still holding his wound. "I told you to keep an eye on your songbird Levi. Seems you still can't listen to me."

"Yeah." He nods to the men holding his uncle. "Take this filth out of here. He's making everything dirty."

"You're really going to kick out your own flesh and blood runt?"

"My conscience is clear. From now on, you'll no longer be associated with the Ackerman family. But because you're flesh and blood, I won't kill you this time. Simply because my mother would be pissed."

Kenny scoffs. "Kuchel really coming in to save me huh. I promise you runt, this won't be the last you see of me."

"I don't doubt it. But until then, take him out of my sight men. I can't bare to look at him any longer."

As he's dragged away part of Evelyn's unease settles. At the very least one of her problems was taken care of.

So why then did it feel like something terrible was on the horizon?

#break me slowly #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi x oc #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #payment

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rebelliousstories · 2 years ago

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Safe In Your Arms

Relationship: David Loki x Reader

Fandom: Prisoners

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Dark Themes, Crimes Against Children, Anxiety, Strong Language

Word Count: 2,100

Masterlist: Here

Jake Gyllenhaal & Co. Masterlist: Here

Summary: Loki hasn’t been home in days; no problem.

Letting out a deep sigh, a man sat at his desk and ran his hands through his hair harshly. His tattoos looked dull against his skin form lack of sleep, nutrition, and well, sunlight. He let his phone ring for the 3rd time that hour; the hour that he was suppose to be home. In all honesty, he was suppose to be home several hours ago but this current case was hitting him hard. Child cases were always the roughest for him. They reminded him of the past he tried so hard to be better than.

“Loki!” Another sigh. David looked up to see his captain walking closer to him with that stupid look on his face.

“We got that suspect in custody. Picked up for a traffic violation, can ya believe it? Anyways, he’s all yours. Room two.” This was just what he needed when his body was screaming for rest. The interrogation was cold, but it helped keep both detective and suspect awake through the grueling process. Two hours had gone by and nothing. He was getting absolutely nothing from the guy. The frustration had long since creeped in; all he wanted was a confession. Loki knew the man was guilty. There were too many eyewitnesses that placed this man with the kids, too many stories from the children they were able to get released. He was about as guilty as anyone could get, but without the lab results coming back or a confession, the man would walk.

“What’d you do to those boys, Steve?” Loki had moved to crowding the man in the corner. He never touched him, but he made sure to stay in his bubble. Steve didn’t look the detective in the eyes as he cowered in the corner of the interrogation room. All through the questioning, Steve had maintained that he did nothing, but Loki knew different. Growing up in the way that he did; it gave him a unique perspective on types of people. The horrors of the boys home he grew up in left scars that he would never be rid of, but they helped in these situations.

“I didn’t do anything. You got the wrong guy. I only cared for those boys; I didn’t do anything wrong.” The man cried as he shook in the corner. He cowered away from Loki, trying to keep as much distance between the two as possible. David’s eyes blinked rapidly, and he let out a deep sigh. He stepped away, and watched as Steve visibly relaxed. His hands stopped shaking, his body too. Steve’s eyes darted quickly around the room and over Loki’s figure, like a scared, cornered animal. He made a mad rush for Loki and both of them fell to the floor. Grappling, and trying to get dominance, the men were caught in a power struggle. David finally managed to get his hands up to where he could grab Steve’s shoulders. He brought his knee up and connected to his gut. The assailant groaned in pain and fell to the floor, while Loki moved around and got his cuffs on the man.

“Wrong move, asshole.” Loki hauled the man up and shoved him down in the seat while the door to the room opened. Two uniformed police officers moved in to help subdue the man, and get him properly detained. Steve started to laugh as the chain was attached to the cuffs, and the bar on the table, which caused David to stop before his hand reached the handle of the door. Confused, the detective turned back to look at the man.

“What?” Steve continued to laugh to himself. Loki moved closer and placed his hands on the tabletop.

“What the fuck’s so funny?” Slowly, Steve laughter dwindled down. He took just a moment to collect himself before he leaned forward and spoke quietly. So quietly, that Loki was doubting if he said anything at all.

“You. Big, bad, Detective David Loki. Rising up and leaving that boys home. Huntington, right? Shame it closed down. Those boys were so cared for. Just like these boys are,” Steve leaned even closer, and stood up to be eye level with Loki, “you won’t make it stick. I’ll walk out of here without any charges and you’ll obsess over this case. Those boys love me, and they won’t speak out against anyone at the home. They know what will happen.” With that, the man sat down and smiled. He stared Loki down, while his mind tried to wrap itself around the situation. Loki mirrored Steve and got close to his face to where they shared the same breath.

“I will make this stick. Those boys are terrified of you; that’s not love. And you know what, I’ll put you away on child charges which will be great for you in prison. And once I’ve gotten you, I’ll get everyone else that allowed that to happen in the boys home. I will make sure that happens.” David turned and left the room swiftly, ignoring Steve’s calls of his name. The whole ordeal made his head swim and not in the way that he liked. Everything was too much; too bright, too loud, too smelly, too itchy. His steps to his desk may have looked confident, but inside he was crumbling down.

He held his head in his hands and took deep breaths, trying so desperately not to fly off the handle. The noise around him muddled into pure white noise, and his eyes slipped shut. Saliva started to pool in his mouth as his heart dropped. He could feel himself get sick and want to throw up, but he pushed it down. If he could just make it through this day, this case; he could reward himself with a night in with his wife. That would be lovely. But what if she was planning on leaving him because of his work schedule? He was never home, but he tried to make it home in time for dinner. It didn’t always work but every dinner he missed, would just be a chance at asking it up to her. She truly had that patience of a saint but was it enough. Thoughts ran wild in his head, as he tuned out the outside world.

“Dave? David? Honey, are you alright?” A hand waved in front of his vision. Startling himself back into his chair, he slowly calmed down. She was here. His darling wife. In her hands were several bags that each had smells galore coming from them. Blinking a few times, Loki stood up abruptly from his desk and grabbed on of the bags out of her hands, and grabbed her wrist to lead her through the station. She never questioned where he was leading her, trusting him to make the decisions he needed to. David led his wife into an empty conference room and dumped the food on the table. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into him, immediately putting his nose in her neck. The strain hurt beyond belief, but the comfort trumped the pain in his neck.

Breathe in, hold, breathe out. The routine that he had developed over the last few decades, now had the added component of being in his wife’s arms. Her hands came up and stroked through his dark hair gently. Careful not to tug, she stood on her tiptoes to make it easier for her husband to decompress. She tried to follow his breathing, which helped keep her calm.

“Rough case?” She felt him nod into her neck. Mrs. Loki realized early on that if David was this worked up, it was best to ask him yes or no questions as forming words would lead to a complete breakdown.

“Can you eat a little something please? That will help the sick feeling in your stomach right now.” David nodded again, knowing that his wife had witnessed this before and knew the signs. She led him over to the chairs nearby and gently dropped him in one, before placing herself in one right next to his. His hands stayed on her while she dished out the meal she had prepared for the both of them. David’s eyes were unfocused but he tried to keep them on her. His head like it was floating upside down. Swimming in the negative emotions that were there, and repressed memories that had resurfaced after years of trying to keep them buried.

“Here, honey. Small bites, okay? Think you can do small bites?” The fork was transferred to his hand after she cut up the meat in the box. As David got pulled back to reality, his wife tried to keep him eating and listening. She even went as far as to take over when his fork slipped from his unclenched hand, and feed him small bites of meat and rice. Slowly but surely, David was finally able to make out his wife’s face and voice clearly. When she noticed the switch, her smile softened as her heart swelled.

“Hey, honey. You okay now?” David nodded and went to go eat more food, but noticed that it was all gone. They must have finished their meals while he was zoned out.

“Thank you for this. Just a… rough case. A really fucking rough case.” He muttered quietly, looking down at his hands. He grabbed hers as well and toyed with the wedding ring he had put there years ago. The little ‘DL’ on her finger was barely visible with the bands blocking the view.

“No need to thank me. No matter what it is, I’ll be there for you. And I know that whatever case your on, no matter how hard, you’ll solve it. You’ll take on the full weight of the case, not accept practically anyone��s help, and you won’t come home for days on end because you’ll sleep in one of the cells so you’re close in case you’re needed. And then you’ll come home once you’ve solved it, and we’re going to have a nice dinner where you tell me about how you knew it was the right person all along. Then, we’ll go to bed in each others arms. When we wake up the next morning, we’ll do the cycle all over again.” David looked into her eyes as she concluded her mini speech. It may not have been the most inspirational and uplifting, but to him, it meant the world. His face cracked into a rare, genuine smile as he leaned in closer to his wife. Pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, it quickly turned into a full lip lock as the couple reached up to grab the other’s face.

“Thank you.” Loki whispered as he pulled away. He was a man of few, emotional words, but he always believed that actions spoke louder than words could ever. His lover just patted his cheek and pulled away, starting to stow away the boxes that held their lunches and drinks.

“Of course, honey. It’s what I’m here for. Now, do you need anything else before you get back to your case, detective Loki?” She said, teasingly. Her hands were suddenly free from the bags as David walked closer and grabbed her hips.

“Maybe one more kiss?” His question was near silent, just like his partners answer. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she guided his head towards hers. The instant their lips touched again, David felt his body relax, and the tension leave.

Soon, she had to leave, as work called both of them away from each other. While David sat at his desk, his mind wandered. This case was going to be hard on him; that was certain. Child cases were hard on anyone, but he had to keep trying. No one helped him when he was their age. No one came to his rescue except his own self. But if he could help these boys be better than him, that would be a win in his books. David’s personal phone buzzed on the table in front of him.

There’s going to be meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and veggies for dinner tonight if you come home. Love you <3

It was difficult to curb the smile that threatened to overtake his face. He only allowed a small smile to peak through before returning his face to neutral. Maybe he should go home and sleep in his own bed tonight. It might help to give him a fresh set of eyes. Yeah, that was what he needed. To fall asleep in the arms of his wife, where he was safe.

#rebelliousstories #writing #david loki imagine #david loki #david loki x reader #prisoners 2013 #prisoners fanfiction #prisoners #prisoners imagine #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal

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thevegandarkelf · 24 days ago

Text

Finding Myself, Finding You: Chapter Twenty-Nine

Masterlist

AO3 link

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist <3 (18+ only, MDNI)

Story is 18+ for mature content/themes, minors do not interact please

TW/CWs for this story--implied/referenced past rape, canonical violence, non-canonical violence, blood, gore, referenced past suicide, swearing, surgery, excessive drinking, nightmares, panic attacks, mention of scars, vomiting, amputation, medical procedures, non-con medical procedures, referenced past medical torture, referenced past drugging, attempted sexual assault, panic attacks, mental health struggles, referenced sibling death, referenced parent death, PTSD

Each chapter will have its own TW/CWs listed

This story, Lydia Vector, her family, her bestie, and Jake (c) me, TheVeganDarkElf

TWD & its characters (c) AMC & Robert Kirkman, the writer of the comic series

TW/CWs for this chapter--swearing, mention of panic attacks, discussion of suicide

Word count: 3.5k

The nights were starting to get chilly, so Daryl grabbed my blanket off my bed and brought it downstairs. He cozied back up to me and draped it across our laps, snaking his arm back around me. He held me close while I drank my tea, making sure I was warm both inside and out. He tilted my head gently in his direction and planted another kiss on the side of my face, his facial hair lightly scratching my cheek. Ever since I gave Daryl permission to be more touchy, but particularly within the last few days, he’d been showering my head and face with kisses. It was like he couldn’t stop himself, like he couldn’t keep himself off of me. Dare I say my little Georgia peach was a bit…clingy in private. And I was eating that shit up.

What the hell did I ever do to deserve this man?

“Sorry ‘bout that again,” Daryl apologized, “really was just a slip-up.”

“I know, it’s ok.” I took another sip of my tea, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. “I just don’t think I can go by Lydia again. Which honestly feels shitty.”

I thought I’d gotten all of my feelings out, but they continued to spill out of me against my will like word vomit. “I’ve had to grieve myself in a way. Grieve who I was before it happened. I miss her.” Daryl caught a tear as it ran down my cheek and wiped it away.

“Fuck, sorry,” I sighed, wiping tears off my other cheek with my sleeve, “I thought I was done crying.”

“Can cry as much as ya need,” Daryl reassured.

I set the now half-empty mug on the coffee table and leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “I swallowed all of this shit for a year. I thought if I ignored it, started going by my last name, didn’t think or talk about it, I could pretend like it never happened. I could move on. I could feel normal.”

I squeezed my eyes shut to try to prevent more tears from escaping and covered my face with my hands in shame. “I just wanna feel normal again. I can’t sleep, I can’t shower without having a panic attack, I can’t even look at myself. What the hell am I supposed to do?” I sobbed into my hands, some of my tears slipping around my hands and trickling into my ears. I did my best to stifle the sounds of my sobs as, frankly, I’d grown tired of hearing myself cry.

“Vec? Can ya look at me?” he asked. I rubbed my eyes with my fists and turned my head to him, resting it on the back of the couch. Despite rubbing my eyes, they quickly filled with tears again, clouding my visual of the beautiful man in front of me. He held my face with his hand, stroking my cheek and jawline with his thumb as he talked.

“Just ‘cause that happened don’t mean ya ain’t normal. Nothin’ ya did to deserve it, and it ain’t your fault. I’ll tell ya that as much as ya need to hear it.” He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, catching a tear as he did. “I know ya been strugglin’ a lot lately, but ya got this. And I’m here to help. Ain’t saying I got all the answers, but I ain’t gonna let ya try to figure it out all by yaself.”

I ask again, what the hell did I ever do to deserve this man?

“I’d say you’re gonna make me cry, but I already am,” I said. I locked my eyes with his. Though my vision was still cloudy, I knew he was doing that thing with his eyes again, looking deep into mine, past all the tears and the trauma and the bullshit. No human had ever made me feel so seen, safe, and cared for. “You’re incredible, Daryl. I don’t know what else to say.”

“For someone who talks a lot, surprisin’ to see ya speechless,” he teased, pulling a tiny smile from me.

I did have words. But those words were I love you, and to me, this wasn’t the most appropriate context to say them for the first time. I was saving them for the right occasion.

“Fuck, my whole body hurts,” I groaned, stretching my arms over my head, “I feel like I got hit by a bus.”

“I can help with that,” Daryl offered, practically stumbling over his words before backtracking slightly, “I mean, only if ya want.” I snickered a little at his enthusiasm.

“If you could just get my shoulders, that would be amazing,” I requested. I turned sideways on the couch, and Daryl moved his legs to allow me to sit in between them. I took my ponytail over my shoulder and held it up to ensure it would be out of the way.

The way Daryl worked at my shoulders was heavenly. The man knew what he was doing with his hands, that’s for sure.

Only Daryl was somehow able to work with such vigor and tenderness at the same time, massaging my pain away in the most gentle manner. I closed my eyes and let out a series of soft, satisfied hums as the knots in my muscles melted away with ease. He’d never given me a massage before, but it was like he was already attuned to my sore body and knew exactly what I needed. He worked at my shoulders before moving to the back of my neck. The work-worn, calloused skin of his hands, carved from days upon days of manual labor, felt euphoric against mine. He got the knots out of my neck and moved his hands up into my hair, massaging my scalp, a favorite of mine.

That level of affection, care, safety, and adoration, combined with my vulnerable emotional state, sent me into a fit of sobs once again.

I buried my face in my hands, catching the tears on my sleeves as they came cascading down. My eyes were warm under my fingers from how much crying I’d done throughout the day. The poor things couldn’t seem to catch a break.

“Hey, you’re ok,” Daryl reassured, snaking his fingers out of my hair and wrapping his arms around me, pulling me snugly against him and resting his head on my shoulder. The soothing blanket of warmth that emanated from him quickly cocooned me, adding another layer to the safety and comfort I was feeling.

“These are happy tears, I promise,” I explained through choked sobs, “or relieved tears, I guess. I was…just thinking is all.”

“Thinkin’ ‘bout what?” he asked. I slipped out of his embrace just enough to turn around, still nestled between his legs, but facing him instead. My vision was no longer cloudy with tears, and I got to lay my eyes on the now crystal-clear, gorgeous human being before me. I took his face in my hands, stroking his high cheekbones with my thumbs. Another elvish feature of his, I suppose.

“How good you are to me. How safe you make me feel. How comfortable I am around you,” I elaborated, gently pulling his head forward to give him a kiss on his cute little button nose, “I can keep going if you want.”

He didn’t say anything, but simply nodded. His skin began to get warm under my hands, indicating he was on the verge of blushing, and that signature tiny smile crept its way across his lips. “How you make me feel appreciated, seen, adored, happy. Also thinking about how it feels kind of good to have finally gotten that off my chest. And about how sorry I still am for blowing up on you.”

“Ya can stop apologizin’ now. It’s alright, promise,” he assured, taking my hands off of his face and holding them in his, “feels good to know I make ya feel safe, happy, all that. ‘S all I want for ya.” He stroked my fingers with his. “Feelin’ any better, sunshine?”

“A little, maybe,” I replied, covering my mouth to stifle a rather obnoxious yawn.

“Should get ya to sleep,” he suggested, “rest’ll do ya some good.”

“I don’t…I don’t wanna sleep,” I said, yawning again. It was as if even uttering the word ‘sleep’ was making me tired. I dropped my voice to a soft whisper and twiddled my thumbs around each other. “I don’t wanna see his face.” Daryl offered an empathetic look before dropping his gaze for a moment, followed by a sigh.

“Then let’s just get ya comfortable,” he said. I nodded and picked my mug of tea back up, gulping down the rest of it. I didn’t want any of Daryl’s hard work to go to waste. A bit of tea escaped the bottom of the mug and dripped down my chin, which I quickly wiped away with my sleeve.

“Thank you for this, by the way,” I said, setting the mug back down on the coffee table, “I don’t know what you did, but it tastes better when you make it.”

“’s how I feel when ya make dinner,” he replied.

Glad to know both of us were incorporating love into what we made, and both of us were noticing.

I slipped out from between Daryl’s legs, giving him room to stand. He took the blanket off my legs and draped it around my back, taking my disheveled ponytail and moving it out of the way. The blanket flowed behind me like a cape as I followed Daryl up the stairs, stopping outside my bedroom door.

“Daryl, can you stay with me?” I asked, tugging gently on his sleeve, “I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

“Never thoughta leavin’ for a second,” he replied, planting a kiss on my forehead, “c’mon.”

I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a bit of a pep in my step as I walked around to the far side of my bed. Daryl crawled in on the other side, scooting back until his back was flush with the headboard. I laid my blanket over top and slid under the covers, rolling onto my side to face Daryl and pulling the covers up to my chin.

“Could you lay down with me?” I requested, pulling the covers up to my nose in anticipation of him saying no.

He moved under the covers without hesitation, like he wanted to and was just waiting for me to give the green light to do so. I kept the covers pulled up to my nose, smiling like an idiot underneath and averting my eyes to prevent myself from turning more red than I’m sure I already was. He laid on his side, propping his head up with one hand and reaching out to me with the other.

“Why ya gettin’ all bashful?” he asked, tucking some of my hair behind my ear. He was doing that thing again where he took extra time draping it around my ear, like he didn’t want to take his hand off of me.

Because there’s a handsome man in my bed next to me, I thought.

I answered his question with another question. “Hey Daryl?”

“Yeah?”

I blushed heavily and pulled the covers up over my face. “…nevermind.”

“Nah, c’mon. What is it?” I poked my eyes out over the edge of the covers.

“Can…umm…would it be alright…if we cuddled?” I asked sheepishly, twirling my thumbs together under the sheets and averting my eyes, “I’m a big cuddler. If you don’t want to, of course, that’s more than ok.”

Daryl hardly missed a beat before he responded. “Get over here.” My face lit up, and I scooted over to him. I rested my head on his chest, pressed my body as close to his as possible, and placed an arm over his stomach. He put an arm around me, resting his hand on my lower back and taking my hand in his other one. The flutters in my stomach kicked into high gear as I draped my leg over his.

I’d been yearning for this moment for ages.

“Is your arm gonna be alright?” I asked.

“Probably fall asleep at some point, but it’s worth it. Long as you’re comfortable,” he said as he adjusted the blankets to make sure we were both covered. Daryl always had a warmth that emanated from him, it was one of my favorite things about him. But now, he was more warm than ever, and there was something different about it. It was like his feelings for me were radiating off of his body.

“Oh, I’m very comfy,” I reassured, nuzzling my head further into his chest, “are you?”

“Hell yeah. Shoulda done this sooner.” He wrapped his arm around me tighter, like he was afraid I would slip away. But I certainly wasn’t going anywhere. It filled me with the warm fuzzies knowing he was enjoying the moment just as much as I was.

“Damn right we should’ve,” I agreed. I could slightly make out the faint beating of his heart. The rise and fall of his chest under my head combined with the soft lub-dub sound was damn near the sweetest lullaby I’d ever heard. “I can hear your heartbeat. It sounds nice.”

“Glad ya think so, Buttercup,” Daryl replied.

“Buttercup?” I kinked my head up to look at him and giggled softly. “That’s a new one.”

“Ya don’t like it?”

“No, I do. It’s cute. Gotta add that one to the roster.”

“If it gets ya gigglin’ like that again, I’ll call ya whatever ya want.”

I smiled softly before dropping my gaze, hesitant to ask the question I’d been wondering so much about and potentially ruin such a perfect moment. “Hey Daryl? I might regret asking this, but…what happened with Jake after I left?”

Daryl licked his lips like he was deep in thought, like he was debating whether to tell me now or suggest we wait until morning and he’d share then. He opted for the former. “He’s gone. Left him alone for a while after ya left and…he drank the antiseptic ya left behind.” My eyes grew wide like they were going to bug out of my skull. Of all the directions I could’ve predicted Jake’s fate going, that wasn’t one of them. “Guess he figured he’d be better off dead than not bein’ able to run from a hoard o’ walkers.”

“Well, he certainly got his just desserts, didn’t he?” I commented, “honestly, I'm glad it worked out that way.” I breathed a sigh of relief, and my chest ached as it came out, like I’d been holding it in all day. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Maybe not in the fashion that it did, but he’s gone, and he can’t hurt anyone. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Sorry ‘gain ‘bout what he said,” Daryl said, “ya should’nt’ve had to deal with him. Feel guilty for not tryin’ harder to talk ya out of it.” His fingers drew little shapes on my lower back, and this time, I knew I felt a heart shape being drawn.

“You don’t have anything to feel guilty over,” I reassured. I briefly leaned my face into my arm to stifle a yawn. “I wanted to do it. I don’t think there was any talking me out of it.”

Despite my mind not wanting sleep, my body was demanding it. Daryl’s chest rising and falling under my head and rocking it gently, the soft sound of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his body enveloping me were all making it difficult to stay awake. After the day I had, I knew rest was ultimately what I needed, and wrapped up in bed with Daryl, I knew I would be safe.

I angled my head to look back up at him. He was already looking down at me, that signature tiny smile of his spread across his lips. He looked particularly angelic at this angle, the light of the moon coming in through the window highlighting his more prominent features. I hadn’t even confessed that I was in love with him, and it was like I was falling in love all over again.

“Could get used to this,” he practically cooed. He let go of my hand, only for a moment, to comb it through my hair and down my face, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb before taking my hand in his again.

“Me too,” I agreed, my cheeks aching from the giant smile that was spread across them.

As I lulled off into dreamland, Daryl kissed the top of my head and whispered something into my hair with that sweet accent of his. And I had the best night of sleep I’d had in almost 2 years.

When I woke in the morning, I was on my side, this time facing the wall opposite the door. Daryl was cozied up tight, spooning me, his arm draped across my waist. His face was buried in my hair, and his breathing caused some stray hairs to tickle the back of my neck with each exhale. I didn’t recall ever rolling around in the middle of the night, but I was delighted to have ended up in the position I was in, regardless of how it happened.

I laid there awake for some time, staring out the window, as I dared not wake my little Georgia peach from his beauty sleep. Not like he needed any though. His soft snoring tickled my ear, and it was one of the sweetest sounds I’d ever heard. Eventually, though, my bladder demanded I get out of bed. I tried to shift myself away slowly, but once I got a couple of inches away, Daryl’s arm pulled me back snugly against his body. I giggled a little and tried to move again, but his arm kept me in place. I turned my head so I could see his face over my shoulder. He appeared to still be asleep.

“Daryl, I have to pee,” I whispered. He didn’t say anything or open his eyes, but his death grip around my waist loosened enough to let me slip out of bed. He rolled onto his back as I got up.

I stopped for a moment and admired him, watching the covers rise and fall with his chest. His adorable sleeping face, bedhead unkempt and messy, his soft and almost melodic snoring…he was beautiful first thing in the morning.

After I came back from the bathroom, Daryl was sat up in bed, his back against the headboard. At some point in the night, he had taken his shirt off, and I got to lay my eyes on the gorgeous sight that was shirtless Daryl. I’d only seen Daryl shirtless one other time when I stitched up his back. I knew he was insecure about his scars, so I never pressed the issue. To me, he had nothing to be insecure about. The man was sculpted like a god, and he had the cutest patch of chest hairs. I quickly and repeatedly swallowed the saliva collecting in my mouth to keep myself from drooling.

I must’ve been ovulating or something.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he greeted. His deep morning voice put a smile on my face. I wanted to wake up like this every day for the rest of my life.

“Mornin’ to you too,” I replied, walking back over to my side of the bed, “did I sleep through the night?”

“Almost. Ya’s stirrin’ at one point, so I woke ya. Quickly fell back asleep after that,” he explained. I crawled back into bed and scooted over to him, laying my legs across his lap.

“I don’t remember waking up. Thank you for doing that,” I said. A small, flirty smirk crossed my lips. “Y’know what that means, right?”

Daryl brushed his hair out of his eyes and took my hand in his, playing with my fingers. “Do share.”

“We’ll have to sleep like this from now on,” I enlightened, my cheeks turning a baby pink, “y’know, to make sure I don’t fall out of bed sobbing anymore.”

“Right,” he agreed, “can’t have that happenin’ no more.” He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me up into his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him on the forehead. I could feel the pink on my face changing to red.

“You’re leaving today, right?” I recollected, a hint of sadness in my voice, “another hunting excursion?”

“Don’t gotta leave for a while yet,” he elaborated. He took my face in his hand and brought it close to his, planting a kiss on the lower part of my cheek, dangerously close to my mouth. “Got some time to cuddle still. If ya want, that is.”

“Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

Taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley

Divider found on Google via searching for stock images

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jo-harrington · 1 year ago

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Blurb Game: Chupacabra

Ok I'm gonna be real here and let everyone know that I sent this to myself through questionable means (aka I asked a friend to do it, they didn't even know I had this Tumblr. Hi babe. Welcome to my shame.) BECAUSE BECAUSE @rosewaterandivy and I were chatting and they said they missed the deadline for blurbs and I said no what kind of monster do you want them to talk about or fuck about.

AND THE RESPONSE WAS "you can't fuck about the Chupacabra" and I took that as a personal challenge.

Little lengthy and TAKING SOME LIBERTIES WITH THE TIMING OF THINGS...but please enjoy.

Warnings/Themes: Smut, Oral (m receiving), edging, unprotected P in V, Eddie gets a little rough

This blurb immediately follows the scene from Heaven in June 1984.

Find other Hymns of Heaven here.

And find the Master List for As Above, So Below here.

June 1984

You were giggling.

Which, typically, would have made Eddie's heart soar. He loved getting to make you smile and laugh. It was the highpoint of his day, his year, his life.

But it was a hard not to take it a little personally when your girlfriend is giggling while being face to face with your cock.

It wasn't entirely unexpected outcome after a day of intimate moments at Lover's Lake. There were snacks and beers, swimming in the lake and then cuddling in your underwear in the back of his van once you were dry enough because neither of you could be troubled with bathing suits.

You kissed each others skin, let your fingers tangle and play together, and shared your deepest thoughts, which led to talks about the future. Which was ironic because the day itself was meant as a way for Eddie to forget that his future was sort of at a standstill.

It was easy for Eddie to get caught up in self loathing...but you chased it away by demonstrating your love for him. You listened and offered advice, entertained his fantasies, and helped him make plans that seemingly defied fate.

Plans together, a future together. A promise of love.

And you branded it onto his skin with your lips.

It started with his fingers first. Those deft musicians fingers that you grabbed with a laugh to ground him because he talked with his hands as emotions got higher and he became more excited. You pecked along the length of them and then his palm, and then as he started promising to dedicate an entire album to you, you sucked two of his fingers into your mouth.

Eddie's brain short-circuited as he felt the warm wetness and the suction, and his body began to get...other ideas.

"Uh...I, uh...w-what are you doing, angel?" he stuttered.

"Where'd that nickname come from?"

The distaste was evident in your voice, but when you turned your face up to look at him, there was a heat in your eyes. You lifted yourself from where you rested against him--head on his shoulder, leg tangled with his--and shifted so you could straddle him. Your hips settled on his for a moment before you bucked against him, causing his breath to hitch and his cock to stiffen.

"Maybe you should just stick to sweetheart." You teased and rocked against him again, underwear the only barrier between you. "Is this ok...do you wanna...?"

Eddie nodded eagerly and you leaned forward to share sweet kisses, over and over. He closed his eyes and basked in the affection, the way you ran your thumb over the swell of his cheekbone and pushed his bangs back from his forehead.

The heat between you was easy to forget when you simply indulged in the softness.

Until you started your journey south.

Down his jaw to his throat where you licked and nipped, your sharp little teeth causing little sparks along his nerves. Eddie could imagine if you were to bite down hard enough you would be able to feast on his blood like a vampire would, and he would let you if you wanted.

You could take his life, if you wanted, and he would thank you.

You sucked, what he was sure would be, an impressive bruise on his collarbone, and then paid special attention to the spot right over his heart.

He wondered if you could tell how hard it was beating in his chest, how it was so close to bursting, how close he was to bursting.

"I-I think I'm gonna...I mean, I w-wanna get another tattoo there, I think," he blurted, trying to distract himself so he could last a little longer.

He usually...had a little more stamina but this was sudden and unexpected, and although the lake was pretty much void of people besides the two of you, the realization that you were in his van, where people might find you added to the thrill. He needed to fill the silence that was otherwise taken up by the wet sounds of your mouth, the rustling of your panties against his boxers, and the shrill cries of the cicadas just outside the van doors.

You hummed and continued your worship.

Down.

You licked down the plane of his abdomen, blew against the wet trail you left behind, and he shivered. Your sly fingers peeled away his boxers and revealed your prize; had he not reached up to rub his hands over his face, he would have seen the way you licked your lips, ready to devour him.

"Well I already have the spider," he reasoned. "I don't know...something else could be cool."

And down.

Pleasure shot through him as you attended to his cock, as you worked the foreskin back and swirled your tongue around the head, as you spat on him and your saliva mixed with his precum.

He whimpered when you took his length rapidly with no hesitation and then immediately retreated.

You were no angel, you were a demon. A succubus. A vixen.

"Eddie the Head would be cool. N-not just...cuz of my name. R-remember when I showed you my drawings? Maybe not him specifically...a demon head?"

And down.

You used your hands and lips together, grazed your teeth against him just so every so often that made him breath heavier and see stars.

"And I-I was watching Tales from the Darkside really late the other night, remember after I called you? And they had this thing. It looked really cool."

You hummed around him and he groaned.

"I think it was a...Chupacabra."

And it was then that you pulled away, and stared up the length of his body, and giggled.

Giggled.

He pulled his hands away from his eyes and stared at you incredulously, the ache of an impending explosion ripe enough to pick, as you grinned and scrunched your nose in the cute way he loved.

"What's so funny sweetheart?" he choked out.

You bit your lip and rested your chin on his hip, face close enough to his dick that had him go...a little bit cross-eyed especially considering that you looked as sweet as could be after you'd been...doing what you were doing.

“Did you know that Chupacabra means ‘Goat Sucker?’” you suddenly asked, your tone entirely too casual.

“…what?”

Eddie was confused to say the least.

"There was this...well...it was in Puerto Rico and there was this Satanic Cult that people blamed for some livestock being killed and drained of their blood," you explained casually and you began to stroke him lazily but deliberately. Your hand went back and forth and squeezed, back and forth and twisted on the head of his cock.

Eddie's eyes closed involuntarily and his head tilted back as he groaned.

"Well it wasn't them, but people got paranoid...as people do...and then they thought they saw a creature sucking the blood of their animals. Sheep and goats." He could feel your breath on him again and he opened his eyes as he felt you get closer to his shaft.

"I'm not...good at Spanish but that's the literal translation. Cabras...goats."

You batted your lashes at him and smirked.

"Chupar...to suck."

And you attached your mouth to a prominent vein on his cock and sucked just the slightest bit that had him choking on air.

He twitched beneath you, teetering over the precipice, but you backed away and let out a honk of laughter.

"Ugh, baby you think this is funny?" he groaned. "You like to see me suffer like this?"

"I'm your girlfriend, I never want you to suffer," you said, sincerely.

"Lies, you're doing it right now," Eddie scoffed.

"I'm just making sure you get the most out of the experience. Don't tell me you don't like it. I can stop if you're really not enjoying it."

Well two could play at that game.

Eddie heaved himself upright and grabbed you by the waist before you could pull away. He pulled you up and settled you on your back beside him, one hand immediately went to your chin as you squealed and giggled. His long fingers dug into your cheeks the slightest bit, and his index finger rubbed back and forth against the plushness of your lips until you opened them and licked against the callused pad.

"Stop? Oh the only thing that needs to stop is that silver tongue of yours," he hissed at you. "Distracting me, weaving all of these stories, playing up this innocent act."

"I am innocent." You spoke breathlessly, lips mashed against his fingers.

"Oh no baby," he chuckled darkly. "You're a bad girl. Do you think you deserve nice things now? Hmm?"

"I made you feel good," you muttered.

"You did." He leaned closer. "You made me feel very good."

"Then I do deserve nice things."

"Uh huh."

"Can I have them?"

"What's the magic word angel?" Your nose scrunched and he smirked. "Starts with a P."

"Penis," you said with a devious pout.

"Nooooo." He singsonged.

Eddie moved to straddle you now, to work your panties down your legs; you kicked them off eagerly, opened yourself up to him. He could see you glistening for him, dripping with want. He liked to see that; he knew what you liked, knew you liked to play. He knew that giving him pleasure brought you pleasure too, but you still liked to take something in return. And now he would give and take too.

He nestled himself in the cradle of your thighs and nudged your center with his length, his breath caught slightly at the feeling. He knew he wouldn't last very long but he couldn't let you get away with your games.

If you didn't offer mercy to him, he wouldn't offer mercy to you either.

"So," he began, voice rumbling as he laid his body atop yours, his nose nuzzling against your cheek. He held your chin in place with one hand and reached down to position himself with the other, to rub along your folds, to collect the slickness there. "Let's see if you can remember that magic word. What did you say before? Chupar? To suck?"

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, until he reached the crook of your neck, then he let you have his wrath.

He pulled your flesh into his mouth, sucked hard enough for a hickey that he could be proud of and that you would need to fasten an extra button on your work polo to hide.

Or would you show it off proudly too? Confidently say, when surely no one else in the world wanted to, that you belonged to Eddie Munson.

He used his teeth then, nibbled at the abused spot until he had you whining and writhing beneath him.

"What do you say?" he finally asked again.

"P-please."

"You want this?"

"Yeah."

"You want my cock in your pussy, you want me to make you cum?"

"Yes. Eddie."

"Yes master," he rumbled in your ear.

"You're pushing it," you whined.

He pushed into you, deep, until he couldn't anymore. Your walls fluttered around him and he felt warm and welcome and complete.

He knew he wouldn't last long so he got to work, happily; his hips snapped into you again, over and over, and he played with your sweet spot with more mastery than he had ever achieved with his guitar. The noises you made the most beautiful song he had ever heard.

He, unfortunately, reached the peak of pleasure first; he stuttered and shook as he filled you. If he could just endlessly pour himself into you he would, you greedily accepted all of him. He kept driving into you, despite his rapidly softening, overstimulated cock, and kept playing you until you could follow him into oblivion.

Your hands fisted into his hair when you arrived with him, and you mashed your lips against his to prevent your needy little whines from escaping the solace of the van. You poured yourself into him to, in a different way, but Eddie consumed it nonetheless.

It was like Manna.

#Eddie Munson x reader #aasb #hymns of heaven #Eddie Munson smut #as above so below

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saimota-week-archive · 2 years ago

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saimota week 2023 is real babey

boy howdy! this is late and i know it’s late and i am sorry. no graphic to show for myself either. i (mod tox) am just doing a real waddle of shame onto here to give you these prompts.

but hello!! salutations! happy 2023-- saimota week will be running again this year from march 19th through march 25th, so please get excited with me!

here are the prompts:

day one (march 19): shadow / sunlight / intensity day two (march 20): heart / body / intellect day three (march 21): wisterias / evening / sanctuary day four (march 22): fight / resolution / tears day five (march 23): lucid / nightmare / terminal day six (march 24): support / growth / reciprocity day seven (march 25): pre-canon / post-canon / free space

as always, be sure to tag all entries with [ # saimota week 2023 ] and [ # saimota week ] and also make sure that you @ MENTION THIS BLOG so that i can reblog all of your entries. if you post something and the blog doesn’t reblog it within a day, feel free to message me @toxicpineapple and i’ll make sure to get on that for you.

i’ll be putting guidelines + relevant details below the cut. stay tuned for reblogs and annoying countdown posts as the week draws closer, and we’ll look forward to seeing your entries once again!

1. late entries will be accepted and boosted with no end deadline! please feel free to keep posting content with these prompts and for this event long after it has ended, we will happily continue to boost anything that you put out after the fact. additionally, the prompts are guidelines, but their use is not mandatory. you are welcome to interpret the prompts as you’d like, and even disregard the prompts altogether if that suits you best.

2. works featuring saimota in a polyamorous relationship with other characters (for example, romantic training trio, amasaimota, akasaimota, etc) will ABSOLUTELY be accepted! obviously this week is for appreciating the romantic relationship between shuichi and kaito, but it’s okay if the other partners get the same amount of screen time! furthermore, background characters and relationships will also be allowed.

3. works featuring shuichi and kaito in a queer platonic relationship will be permitted. however, as this is a romantic ship week at its heart, please refrain from posting content about their friendship or about them as best friends. it’s okay though if the themes in your works are subtle or not overtly romantic.

4. the unauthorised use, reproduction, or replication of the works of other creators during this week will not be tolerated. this includes but is not limited to plagiarism of fanfiction, tracing, uncredited edits, edits with credit but without permission, parodies of other existing fanworks, et cetera. it’s okay to draw fanart from saimota fics you like unless the author is uncomfortable with it, but it’s not okay to take another person’s hard work and use it for your own clout and if we see you reposting uncredited art we will BLOCK. (”i found it on pinterest” or “the source is right here” are not replacements for sources AND permission.)

5. be respectful towards all other entries and participants in the challenge. if someone who is participating in the week is also hating on your entries we encourage you to let us know and they will be blocked as well. we’re all here to have fun, there’s no need to cause drama.

6. nsfw content will not be accepted for this week. however, if you are a person who has posted nsfw content in the past, you are still allowed to participate in the week even from the blog which has posted such content. please do not use your nsfw account to participate if you have one, though.

7. aus and crossovers are absolutely accepted and encouraged.

8. trans headcanons of any kind, including transfem headcanons, will be accepted. cis genderbends however will not. we do not seek to place judgment on anybody who creates that content, it’s just not the kind of thing we want to see for our event. we invite you to create it on your own time.

that’s all i’ve got! thank you for tuning in, and once again, we look forward to seeing your entries come march! thank you loves! <3

#saimota #momosai #momota kaito #saihara shuichi #shuichi saihara #kaito momota #kaito momota x shuichi saihara #shuichi saihara x kaito momota #momota kaito x saihara shuichi #saihara shuichi x momota kaito #kaito x shuichi #shuichi x kaito #momota x saihara #saihara x momota #saimota week #saimota week 2023 #saimomo

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jeonggukookies · 1 year ago

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better || eight

summary: you finally talk to jimin at the charity ball

word count: 1859

genre: bestfriend!jimin, college!au, bestfriends to lovers!au - fluff/angst

For the first time in years, Christmas was something you were looking forward to, and everyone was surprised to see you participating in the off-key caroling of Christmas songs with everyone. Normally, you would watch everyone decorate the tree as you sneak into the kitchen, eating the Christmas theme cookies, leaving none for Santa.

It was the first Christmas you would have with your father and Taehyung’s family ever since the passing of your mother. Though, your father still wanted to honor your mother, by hosting a charity ball on Christmas Eve, inviting everyone to spread Christmas cheer to each other.

People were free to donate gifts that would be given to the children at the orphanage and hospitals, and there was money being raised through some local performances which included Hobi’s dancing, Joon’s rapping, Yoongi’s piano solo, Jeongguk’s boxing, Taehyung’s stand up comedy and more. Jin helped the caterers by baking the peppermint cookies and some truffles. You had invited all their friends and families, bringing everyone you knew.

“Are you not doing anything?" Jin asked, standing next to up as you went to the bar to order some water. Unlike everyone else who was wearing a regular suit, Jin was wearing a black tuxedo with a bowtie that had candy canes on it. “Are we going to see you sing?”

“God no.” You laughed, grabbing the water from the counter. “If I did, we would not make any money for the kids.”

“I keep telling her that it is a shame that we do not get to hear her vocals tonight,” Taehyung joked, coming next to you. Your cousin was wearing a white suit with a glass of white wine in left his hand, trying to relax his nerves before his performance. His hair was slick back, looking like his father.

“Hey,” Tiffany greeted with a fake smile, not letting her mouth snap into a straight light. “I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news, but did you guys invite Jimin?”

The smile on your face quickly faded, thinking you would have more time before you would have to see your best friend again.

“My parents might have because they obviously don’t know..” Taehyung’s voice trailed off.

“It’s okay,” you assured him, shrugging. “This is my first Christmas with my dad, and I am not going to let him or my feelings ruin that.”

“Well, how are you feeling?” Tiffany asked, a concerned look all over her face.

There were two words to describe everything happening all at once: confusing and overwhelming.

For a couple weeks, you had been basically grieving over the loss of your best friend, thinking he did not love you back, and that this whole relationship was one-sided. You gave yourself the time and distance from Jimin just so you weren’t reminded how he rested his head on yours when he wrapped his arms around you.

But after Jimin’s confession, there had been no time to process everything. It was the anniversary of your mother’s passing, and you were starting to rebuild a relationship with your father. You were distracted, and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t want to be alone in your thoughts, thinking about what you should do about the situation. “Fine.”

“You’re fine?” Taehyung’s eyebrow quirked up. He knows that you don’t show emotions besides the times you had grieved over your mother. But honestly, your cousin knew that if you severed your friendship with Jimin, it would be as big of a loss. “That’s it?”

You wanted to be fine.

It should not be a problem that you and your best friend have feelings for each other. The story could simply end happily ever after at that point. But you couldn’t understand how the boy that watched your mom’s favorite movie with you every year, lied about his feelings. How could he lie to you, knowing how much pain it caused? Why couldn’t he just pick you from the beginning? Did you really go through his mind when he chose someone else? Why now?

“Stop overthinking, you’re breaking your own heart,” Taehyung reminded you quietly, not letting anyone around you hear his comment. Even now at a complicated time, he was protecting your ego and taking care of you while being unbiased, and you were sure he did the same to Jimin. “Let’s get ready before the show starts.”

_____________

“Since it is running a little late, we are going to have Yoongi perform his sonatas. In the meantime, as we wrap up, we will be doing the gift exchange. Hopefully, you all drew and made your customized Christmas cards because those are important.” Your father laughs into the microphone as the audience gape at his announcement. “You all were given a number in the beginning, and you must find your missing match to exchange gifts and cards.”

“What number are you?” Tiffany asked, holding the number 57 in her right hand. In the background, you can hear Yoongi take a deep breath before starting, playing softly. “I hope it is not some loser like Jimin.”

“Tiffany!” You scolded, holding back a laugh. “You got to admit it that was funny,” Jin said causing Tiffany to nod her head in agreement. “I think Y/N’s Dad made sure our gifts and cards were going to be exchanged for the kids.”

“Where did you hear that?” Taehyung asked with a questionable look on his face, slightly raising one brow over the other. He looked down at his homemade card. It was a folded red paper with the front page having drawn an elf with green scribbly colored clothes with a text bubble with ‘Ho Ho Ho.’ Next to the elf, there was a poorly drawn old man which you assumed to be Santa, and the question, ‘Who are you calling a Ho?’ is above Santa’s red cap in a blue text bubble.

“You cannot give that to a kid.” You laughed and held up your simple white card to him that had a string of red and green Christmas ornaments with the text ‘Let’s hang at Christmas!’

“I think it will be fine,” he stated with a small look of worry on his face. “I have the number 5.”

“I have the number 7,” Jin and Hobi said simultaneously, then exchanging looks of excitement.

The two friends quickly exchanged boxes and cards, excited to see what had been inside the gift.

“Tae!” Taehyung’s younger sister screamed across the room loudly, letting everyone know who she was looking for. “Can you and Unnie look at the family group chat?!”

Looking over your shoulder, you see Taehyung pulling out his phone from the right back pocket of his pants. He unlocked his phone, clicking on his latest text notification.

[mom]: text us your number

[dad]: 7

“Oh you have the same number as my dad,” Tae mentioned to Tiffany. “They’re in the back somewhere.”

[brother]: 95

[sister]: 23

Your cousin texted your numbers to your family members. Right away, your aunt sent a reply.

[mom]: oh y/n, jimin has the same number as you! he just told us a couple of minutes ago that he was going to find you two!!

“There’s no fucking way, right?” You weren’t sure who Taehyung was asking. “Dude, the world must be against you or something.”

Tiffany flicked Tae’s head, making him wince and look at Tiffany with a confused look. She gave him an angry death glare. With his voice shaking, he said, “You know, Cousin, we can switch numbers.”

“Let’s be real, your mom probably somehow told him that me and him have the same number already.” You sighed. “There’s no use.”

You forced a smile, walking away, wanting to find your father before you had to exchange gifts. With a quick glance at the ballroom, you couldn’t find your father in the crowd of people up and rushing to others, trying to find their gifts. You get on the tip of your heels to get a better look, not wanting to go through the crowd and be accidentally pushed.

Across the room, Jimin was there, holding a white box in his hands, already staring at you with his dark brown eyes. Your heart dropped a bit, wondering how was it possible that the two of you would always find each other in a room full of strangers and chaotic noise.

The music stopped playing, and you could finally hear your cousin calling out your name.

“Wait.” Tiffany abruptly said. You knew they were behind you, but you didn’t dare look back. Without looking, you knew Tiffany was holding Taehyung’s wrist back, already seeing what was happening. “It’s the eye sex conversation talk again.”

Jimin took the first move, taking steps forward to go to you, not taking his eyes off yours. He was looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered when the whole world was on fire. He was looking at you the way he always did, but more intensely.

When he’s finally in front of you, he released a sigh of relief, slightly giggling. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you whispered, not believing what was happening.

“I asked your father for his permission, and now I just really need yours.” He handed the box in front of you. “Open it.”

Taking the lid off, there was a soft fleece blanket, a blanket patterned with the animals from the Lorax. You knew he was waiting for you to look back at him, but you stared down at the box. The words how, why, what, and oh wanted to come out, but no sound came out when you parted your lips.

“When I said ‘just not like that,’ it was first to Taehyung’s mom when we were watching the movie and you were sleeping underneath the blanket,” he explained. “I asked your father to get the same number as you, to show you that I don’t want it to be like that. I want to be with you any day watching your mom’s favorite movie under the soft blankets, reminding you that you aren’t alone and that your mother isn’t forgotten.”

You looked up back at him. Tears were forming in his alluring eyes. You hold back a smile, wanting to laugh at the irony. He was looking at you the same way you looked at him the day he decided not to study abroad.

“Hurting you was the worst thing I did.”

You stood there frozen, wanting to say something, but you knew your words would come out incoherent, barely intelligible.

“You don’t have to say anything.” But Jimin read you like his favorite book, knowing every single line, reciting them out loud, letting the words live in his head rent-free. “I understand the trees.” He paused. “If you had known it was going to be me, would you still have made that card so friend-zoney?”

And there, you wrapped your arms around him, knowing you would never lose him ever again.

Perhaps the heartbreak of losing your mom could not be healed with time, but with the love of your life.

___

a/n: i finally graduated!!!!

#better #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #park jimin scenarios #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin imagine #bts scenarios #jimin scenario #bangtanwriters-net #park jimin

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missielynne · 7 months ago

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CBS Ghosts Review: The Polterguest

This was such a good, weird episode! My gosh, watching Sam try and get dirt on Saul while stalling the guy he was attached to was so painful to watch. Like I fast-forwarded through some of it because it gave me such second-hand embarrassment for her. (And it was kind of a shame since Saul as a character is so fun and I would have loved to just watch his introduction without the distraction from the rest of it, but then we wouldn't have the episode.)

Saul and Alberta had really good chemistry and it was just wonderful to see them talk and reminisce about their shared living time. (I also found the fact that Saul died from being hit in the head by a baseball kind of funny cause that actually happened in 1920 to a guy named Ray Chapman.)

It was so fun to watch Isaac and Nigel plan their wedding! Now, normally (as we will see with my thoughts on Sam and Jay later on) being on board as a couple with stuff like this and compromising is good but I really just want Isaac to have his dinosaur wedding or at the very least get to go down the aisle to the Jurassic Park theme because that is just awesome and fun and not something I would have expected of him at all, compared to whatever stereotypical plan Hetty and Nigel come up with.

I definitely winced a little when Jenkins did the lap dance, not because of the thing itself, but because we all know that Jenkins has openly tried to sabotage Nisaac before, and even on Nigel's side, he has kind of a bad habit of going back to Jenkins as a fallback guy if Isaac is out of sight, out of mind (although hopefully that's done now that Nigel lives in the mansion and he and Isaac are engaged.) I've said it to nonnies and I mean it that if Nancy isn't part of Nisaac's wedding, I will be so bummed. That would be a major missed opportunity not to include, somehow, a person outside Hetty and Isaac who Nigel has managed to form a genuine connection with. Plus the look on Hetty's face during the ceremony would be priceless.

As for Isaac's lap dance, I love that the guy included the dinosaur parts in it AND that Isaac actually seemed to be enjoying himself rather than being disgusted or like, refusing it (which I thought he would based on his reaction to the come-on of George the Horny Puritan.)

The fact that Saul turned out to be clingy and kind of weird surprised me (What is it about Alberta that just attracts complete weirdos?) But it made for an excellent pun/explanation about why he himself was a poltergeist. I really appreciated that.

What I didn't appreciate was Sam insisting that Jay let Saul attach himself to him for god knows how long until things with Saul and Alberta ran their course (if they ever did.) That's not like asking Jay to take a watch off Elias's corpse or dig around Flower's death spot for anything she had on her to bring her back. That's a long lasting thing that will actually affect him?) So for that reason I was glad that Saul was clingy and Alberta wanted to break up with him, cause that took the pressure off Jay.

I know Sam feels the need to help the ghosts live fuller afterlives because she's nice and she loves them and she can, but I really wish she would bring Jay in for times like that so they could come up with a solution as a pair that would benefit everyone (if one is possible. Sometimes they'd just need Jay to say "Sorry we can't do that, suck it up.") Because her strong-arming him and picking the ghosts over him just because he's the nicest guy ever is starting to hurt me and make me not like her. I don't like her treating Jay like the ghosts treat her, taking advantage because he's just too nice. They both love the ghosts and want them in their lives, but they also have non-ghost stuff to consider, like their marriage and business. They can compromise and make it all work and I want to see that happen for real.

Great episode. Definitely will watch on repeat.

#cbs ghosts #cbs ghosts spoilers #missie's ghosts reviews

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panda-writes-kpop · 2 years ago

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Egyptologist! JiU - Oh. My. Ra!

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! Hope you're well. 💖 I'd like to dedicate this to the talented and lovely @dark-night-insomniac 🫶 Thank you for being so supportive of me. I love all of your comments and reblogs! Your writing is stellar as well, and I'm always looking forward to what you write next. 🥹

TW: Mention of dead bodies (brief), JiU is as cheesy as ever <3, supernatural themes, mummies, an animated corpse, slight horror themes(?), loosely based on Moonknight in the Marvel Universe

Summary: Being on a digsite in Egypt with your lover has its ups and downs. The 'up' is that you're near JiU, and the 'down' is that you find out a very unique quirk that JiU has via an attack on your digsite.

♡ Masterlist ♡

"Can you hand me the shovel?"

"Why, you got a body to bury?" You joke before gently handing JiU the shovel.

"No, my love, but we may have a body to uncover here."

"JiU-ah, do you have to call me that in front of our co-workers?" You mutter as you become visibly embarrassed.

"Oh, so you don't want me to call you sweet names?" She looks up from the dig site for a moment as you shake your head.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Good, dearest, because I want to call you every name under the moon and stars as long as you're mine." JiU winks, and you fail to hold back a squeal.

"Ah, you're so embarrassing to be around, JiU!" You huff as she chuckles before turning back to the dig site.

"I could use a hand, Y/N, if you're not too busy being flustered."

"I'm on it!" You call out before grabbing the last shovel and joining JiU in digging.

Although Egypt wasn't your dream destination for a getaway with your lover, you had to make do with what your job required of you. Besides, that's how you and JiU met in the first place.

"Hey, fresh meat, get over here!" Your new boss hollers at you and a much younger, much more idealistic version of yourself run towards them.

"Yes?"

"You're gonna be with her until I figure out what to do with you." The boss points at a woman in the distance before slapping you on the back.

"Are you going to introduce me to-" You look back to see that your boss is already gone. "Okay, I guess I'm on my own for this one."

You take a deep breath, but your nerves fail to settle as you try to navigate toward the woman that was pointed out to you. A million possibilities go through your head, and almost all of them end with her hating your guts until the end of time.

As you carefully approach the dig site, you do your best not to scare the woman as you wave to get her attention. Her pink hair makes her stick out in the best way possible, and the smile she sends your way scares off the nerves and anxieties floating around you.

"Are you the recruit?" She gently asks.

"Yeah, I am."

"I figured. You look like a lost puppy out here."

You look away in shame, which causes JiU to immediately backtrack.

"It's not a bad thing, though! I got lost on my first day. It happens to the best of us, I promise."

Her warm smile returns, and you do your best to muster up one to give back to her.

"Is there anything that I can help with?" You cautiously ask, and JiU pauses for a moment.

"Hmm… Well, for today, you can just stand there and observe what I do throughout the day. Tomorrow, I'll show you the ropes. Does that sound good?"

"I like that plan."

"Y/N, honey, are you going to dig at the same spot all day, or do you want to take a break?"

"Ack, sorry!" You drop the shovel as you realize that you've been daydreaming again.

It's hard not to daydream when your reality seems so unreal.

JiU offers you her hand, and you take it as she leads you away from the dig site.

"Thanks for that, JiU. I spaced out again." You say as she shakes her head.

"You're adorable, you know?"

"Thanks, babe." You mumble as she pulls you into a tent.

You didn't realize that you were sweating until a bead of sweat fell down your face.

I wouldn't expect anything less from this weather or the climate we're in.

You quickly wipe it up before grabbing two water bottles from a nearby cooler. You toss one to JiU, and she blows you a quick kiss before digging in a large bag.

"What did you pack for lunch?" You ask before taking a seat on a lawn chair.

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out!" She teases, and you sigh before relaxing into the chair.

"As long as it isn't burnt, I'm fine."

"You think my cooking is that bad?" JiU looks at you with puppy dog eyes, and you feel like you've kicked a puppy when you look into her eyes.

"Of course not, sweetheart. I'm really hungry, and I'm sure that whatever you make is very good and very edible."

JiU smiles before handing you a sandwich.

"You added everything I like… you really are the best, JiU!" You exclaim before taking a big bite of your sandwich.

She giggles before nibbling on her own sandwich.

"What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't make you what you like?"

"Still mine, either way." You say between bites.

"And I thought that I was the cheesy one, Y/N." JiU smiles as you shake your head.

"I think your dad jokes and corny pick-up lines rubbed off on me."

"My pick-up lines are not corny!" JiU defends herself, and you laugh in response.

"You're not going to defend your dad jokes?"

"Because they are an excellent form of comedy!"

"Keep telling yourself that, JiU. I'm sure it'll come true one day." You smirk before finishing your sandwich.

"Hmph!" She turns her nose away from you, and you sigh before standing up.

"I love you, JiU-ah, with all of my heart. I would never do something that would hurt you." You endearingly say before pulling JiU into your arms.

It's her turn to be flustered as you gently tilt her face toward yours with one of your hands.

"See? Isn't that better, darling?" You sweetly laugh as JiU holds onto you for dear life.

"I love you too." She gives you a warm hug, and you melt into her arms.

If only we could stay like this for the rest of time…

You're interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and you hear JiU sigh as you step away from her.

One of your newest recruits ran into the tent with no hesitation at all.

"JiU! Y/N! You have to see this!" They say before waving you towards the exit of the tent.

You eye JiU as she nods at them.

"We should see what's up." JiU turns towards the young recruit. "Lead the way."

Ah, the joys of running a dig site with the woman you love most in the world…

"Come on! It's just this way!" They shout, and you and JiU follow in close pursuit.

"What do you think it is? Did someone get hurt?" You ask with concern, and JiU shudders.

"I hope not. Let's just hope that they found something exciting… you always remember your first dig, right?" She looks at you for affirmation, and you nod.

"Yeah, but you were the one who made that so memorable." You shyly admit as the three of you come to a stop.

"Y/N, you're too sweet for your own good." JiU says before the young digger points at one of the dig sites.

"We found a sarcophagus… but it was open when we fully dug it up!"

"Really? Let me and Y/N take a closer look." JiU says, and you offer them a warm smile.

"Take an early lunch, okay? You've earned it." You watch them run off, and you turn and walk with JiU towards the ancient coffin.

"How old do you think it is?" You ask as you cautiously approach the sarcophagus.

"From a first glance, it has to date back to at least the 3rd dynasty of Egypt."

"That doesn't tell me much." You mutter as JiU pulls on a pair of gloves.

"You want to take a closer look?"

"Not really. These things always gave me the creeps." You shudder as you look up at the sky. "Is it me, or did the sky get darker?"

"It's definitely you." JiU says without skipping a beat.

"Thank you, dear, I really appreciate the comfort and support." You sigh as you rub your arms.

It definitely wasn't this cold before… We were sweating a few moments ago. What is going on?

"I'm going to take a look inside," JiU announces, and you shake your head.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Look how dark it is!" You yell while pointing at the pitch-black sky.

What. The. Fuck.

"Y/N, I think you're-" JiU pauses as she looks up. "Oh my, it really is dark!"

"Thank you for coming back to reality, JiU! It was midday a few minutes ago, and now it's completely dark." You huff as JiU brushes some sand off of her.

"Maybe it's just a bad storm or something-"

"-in Egypt? Are you being serious right now?" You exclaim as her head snaps to you.

"Y/N-"

"No, I'm not losing it."

"Don't turn around." JiU says with a grim look on her face.

You immediately snap your head in that direction, and you scream as JiU shoves you behind her.

The mummy that should be very dead is very not dead and is standing about six feet from where JiU is. It points at the sarcophagus before growling in a low tone at JiU.

"Honey, what is that thing?" You softly mutter.

"Close your eyes." She mumbles.

"What? Why would I-"

"I don't want to blind you with my brightness." Her warm smile is truthful, and in this moment, you have no choice but to trust her.

"I'm trusting you, JiU." You close your eyes, and for good measure, you place a hand over your eyes.

"You're adorable, my love." She says before pressing a kiss to your temple.

You sigh as you hear JiU walk away from you. The mummy growls again, and you heat JiU sigh softly.

"Your master never learns, does he?" JiU scolds the creatures, and you hear its footsteps shuffle towards her.

Master? What is she talking about?

A body drops to the ground, and you cringe at the sound.

"You didn't think I was that weak, did you, sweetheart?"

You immediately uncover your eyes when you hear JiU's sweet voice. You gasp as you absorb her new clothing and hairstyle.

"JiU-ah, your clothes and hair… you look like a goddess!" You exclaim as she shyly chuckles.

"Well, that's kind of the point." She shrugs as you raise an eyebrow at her.

"I think you have some explaining to do."

"How does dinner sound?" JiU suggests.

"Like a plan, darling."

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banzaitaka · 2 years ago

Text

Yandere themes

Hunter x Hunter_Phantom Troupe_Masterlist

Chrollo Lucilfer x gn! reader

Unmoving

The gentle stroking of your hair should’ve let you feel relaxed, content. But the unbelievable words falling from your lover’s lips had you tense and wide eyed. Chrollo had expected this, and yet he was still surprised how unmoving you were. Usually you’d turn to look him in the eyes when the conversation between the two of you gets serious, however this time, he had to lean forwards to be able to see your face from the position on his lap.

He didn’t let that unnerve him, of course you’d be in shock after finding out your boyfriend is the leader of the infamous Phantom Troupe. A group of thieves known and feared far and wide.

So he remained calm, kept running his fingers through your hair in a soothing manner. "I know this is a lot to take in, my love." You swallowed, eyes starting to unfocus as you started to drift off into a state of dissociation.

What else was left to do for your body?

In one single moment it all came together, it all made sense. His protective- and possessiveness (which you merely marked off as abandonment issues), the amount of times he came back home with odd injuries, all the expensive and antique gifts he brought you, all those "classified business trips" he went on…

You felt a hand patting up and down your arm, trying to bring you back and out of the dissociation caused by the immense stress. Slowly, you lifted yourself from Chrollo's lap and started patting down your arms yourself, until you were reconnected with reality (or at least enough to converse).

Chrollo's gaze felt like it was burning holes into the side of your head. It never would’ve struck you as threatening before as his eyes only ever held love and adoration for you. However this time, you didn’t dare to even so much as flinch, as you feared any movement could be your demise.

What used to be a comforting touch became anything but. The image of those very hands being covered in blood, with neither shame nor regret, made your stomach turn. And still, you did not dare to move.

Not even when the man pulled you close and planted kisses on the side of your head, that used to be sweet like sugar, and now felt like a signature to mark you as his.

Who knew what would happen if you did?

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hxh x reader #hxh x gn reader #chrollo lucilfer x reader #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo lucilfer x gn reader #x reader #x gn reader

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devil-doll13 · 1 year ago

Text

Dear Prudence.

Cw: Prudence, the POV/Narrator, is basically a repressed church girl, Carrie lite suffering from catholic guilt™ and she isn't exactly the kindest in her thoughts. Character Death, Physically/Emotionally Abusive Mother, Religious themes/Cult, Implied Drugging, Sex mentions/Fade To Black, Killing/Murder, A Gun Is Shot, Implied Police Brutality/Cops Causing Trouble (they also die), Panic Attack, Vomiting, Feelings of Shame

(If anything else needs to be added, let me know)

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: The Organisation sends an agent to infiltrate and expose a cult led by a man they call ‘Adam.’ The tight-laced Prudence is their first choice; upright, pure and incorruptible.

Or so they believe…

Dividers by firefly-graphics

Prudence claps her hand mirror shut.

She’s sitting in her car. Her windows are down, and a light breeze lifts her hair, ruffles her clothing, wafts over her skin. She takes a deep breath.

She sees herself in the rear view mirror, all beach-blonde, lightly tanned, sunglasses-wearing hippie. Prudence had combed over her appearance with the meticulous eye of a watchmaker, perfecting ‘Leah,’ the wandering soul.

And the way she’s dressed now… Her mother would have some choice words for it, at least. That’s all she can think about; not how much more air she can feel on her skin, or the ease of which she moves, but inherited disgust from a woman long dead. This job was never going to be enjoyable for her. It required her to assume the identity of someone she’d normally sneer at, judge, belittle. Then she’d have to infiltrate the ranks of the hedonists, grit her teeth and bear their hands and eyes and smiles.

But it was all for a good cause. It would be worth it, in the end, to aid The Organisation. She was purging an infestation of sin.

That was what she believed.

She opens the car door and steps out.

The site of the cult is a large, sun-kissed plain. Beyond are mountains, dotted with forests. Great poles stick out of mounds in the soil, adorned with fluttering, multi coloured ribbons and supporting hammocks. Long-haired, bohemian people are draped wantonly over each other, or dancing in rings. A gaggle of children run past her as she walks. Dew from grass caresses her ankles, tickling.

Prudence shivers. It feels so unnatural to have her legs bare. She pushes past a flap and enters the main pavilion. It’s bright and humid like a tropical rainforest, with potted plants and succulents hanging from the canopy. Then she stops.

There was her target.

Right in front of her. Her gun feels hot against her thigh, itchy and painful. He’s sitting cross-legged on a carpet, bent forward in conversation with some other young vagabond. The gaudy tent she’s in feels very small, filled with his unearthly presence.

“... I mean, if this keeps up, they’ll ravage the whole forest. We’re seeing loggers come in every day, and it’s completely destroying the natural environment…”

He’s nodding along to the dull drone of his follower’s speech with a seemingly careless air. She is shocked to see a delicate chain of pink flowers braided into his hair. It’s something she’s going to have to get used to, but most men she knew wouldn’t be caught dead wearing this. With his bright, tie-dyed vestments and dangling gold earrings, he looks boldly flamboyant, like a tropical bird.

“It’ll all be fine, Soren. You’ll see.” Is all he says.

Soren just sighs wearily.

Prudence can’t see her target’s eyes, but when he turns to look at her she is pierced, naked. She’s sweating so badly she feels her floral top stick to her skin. It takes every ounce of willpower she has to smile down at him and make it look half-way natural.

“Hi, I’m Leah,” she recites. “I’ve come here to join with your community?”

“That’s wonderful.” He beckons her forth with a welcoming hand. “Leah. Come, sit with us.”

She already knows his name: Adam. He’s so infamous around this area that he needs no introduction. Prudence almost can’t believe how easily she’s getting close to him, but he doesn’t seem wary of strangers at all. Still, she acts like she expected this.

The bearded man sitting beside him looks less than enthused that she’s interrupting their conversation, but he doesn’t protest when she joins them on the mats. Instead, he scratches his neck and looks back to his leader, continuing:

“Well…Anyway. Some of us are going to start a protest on Monday. I would…” He gave him a pleading look. “...Ask for your approval.”

Adam chuckles, shaking his head.

“But you don’t need my approval, do you? You’re asking for my help.”

Soren grimaces. There’s a thin sheen of sweat beading his forehead. He looks like a little kid who’s come to confess he’d done something wrong.

“It would really be useful to us, I mean… After what happened last time with the cops…” He trails off.

“What happened?” She questions softly.

Help. Prudence immediately latches onto the word. And how could he help? With his abilities? Prudence had leaned forward, listening aptly to their exchange. Now, she sees an opportunity to show an interest in their cause, to blend in. They both turn to look at her. Soren purses his lips.

“It got messy,” he says mournfully. “It wasn’t so much of an intervention as it was a beat down. No one died, but that was about the only mercy of it.”

Prudence gapes. It’s a somewhat genuine reaction, because she’s only known the jolly, toothless side of the police force here.

“Um… Wow. I didn’t know they would be so violent.”

She immediately suspects she’s being lied to, too unwilling to trust the word of a layabout like this.

“Yeah, well it happens a lot more than you might think. If you’re really thinking of joining us, you should consider that.” He regards her, tight-lipped.

“Okay,” she delibrates. Prudence clears her throat, deciding to swing her best foot forward with this. “Well, a little pushback isn’t going to scare me off.”

She looks at Soren directly. He’s still watching her closely, and she squirms underneath the scrutiny. Adam’s eyes are still hidden by his shades, but she can feel his hypnotic gaze on her, too. It seems to render her mind fuzzy somehow.

“When I first heard about you guys, I was a little sceptical, but… You’re trying to make the world a better place, right? I’m here I want because to help. Um, I want to be a part of it, too.”

She clips it off there, and it strikes her just now how hollow and plastic it all sounds.

There’s an awkward, risky silence for a moment.

“How did you hear about us, Leah?” Adam finally asks. He’s staring at her again with that unreadable expression on his face. She shifts.

Everyone knows about you, Prudence grumbles inwardly. The whole virtue committee has been calling for your immediate arrest…

“One of your people.” She tilts her head, pretending to think for a moment. “Sofie, that was her name, I think. She told me about you… About this place.”

“Ah… It’s our people now, sister.” Adam smiles charmingly at her, holding up a finger. Soren sighs again. Prudence can only grin listlessly.

Somehow, it really was that easy.

That night she retired early, huddled in her bedroll. She was sharing a tent with several other people and her skin was crawling and the thought of bugs invading it. Why anyone would willingly choose to live this life, she would never understand.

Lying there, she thinks more about her mission. It was easy to get in the front door, but what she had to do was actually get confirmation that this man was the one they were looking for; that he could indeed conjure plants from thin air and influence the minds of his followers with pheromones.

None of the others would be a real threat to anyone, she decided. Maybe a bad influence, but not actually dangerous. It was only him, and she needed to confirm first if he was her true target. If he wasn’t, she would have to move on.

Prudence sighs, sitting up to wipe sweat from her forehead. Outside, she can still hear the cult members holding a muffled singalong. When she nudges the tent flap aside, it comes louder and clearer. Some nonsense psych rock number.

Sooner or later she would need to participate herself, and she was dreading it. But then again, she might do well to rip the band-aid off now, and clear any suspicion that could be directed at her… Prudence coils her face up, then wipes it over with a doped up smile. As she steps out and takes a gulp of crisp night air, she sees perhaps almost the entire camp is gathered around a huge bonfire. They’re sitting crammed into a communal ring, practically conjoined by the hips and elbows.

When she approaches, she is almost swallowed up by their affectionate caresses. Prudence endures the unfamiliar arms thrown over her shoulders, the hands like spiders in her hair. For Leah, this must be a warm welcome, easy and inviting.

Sofie is there, too, in her olive-green dress, and beckons Prudence lazily towards her. “I knew you’d be here,” she says with a smile, looking half-baked already. “So, wasn’t I right? Isn’t he amazing?” Then she drapes herself over Prudence’s lap.

‘Leah’ slurs an agreement, mostly to keep her quiet, as she refocuses on the man of the hour: Adam is bent over an acoustic guitar, leading the sing-along.

Prudence feels the familiar twinge of unease as the amber light of the fire casts dark, creeping shadows on his face. Once it appeared to her as sly and youthful, but now the lines, the cracks, are shone upon. For some reason, he reminds her starkly of the young preacher in her local church.

No. She tries to shake the notion. He’s a man of God. He can’t be compared to these degenerates.

Prudence joins in reluctantly with a quiet hum, and peers down at Sofie. She is so very different now, compared to the wilful activist she met on the highway. In her glazed over eyes, Prudence can see something like slavish devotion, a sort of hypnotised haze that wasn’t there before. There is no spark left.

This man is a drug, Prudence heart rate spikes. It’s the pheromones. It has to be. She weathers it too, a heavy, distorting fuzz pressing down on her, lathering over her shoulders like melting wax. She has to grit her teeth to bear it, to not give in immediately.

The song ends. And then, just like that, it’s as if her resistance is known and a spotlight is beamed on her; Adam turns to look at her. The entire circle follows suit. At once, all of them snap their heads over in her direction. Prudence begins to sweat.

“Everyone. Let’s welcome the new addition to our happy little family.” His voice is heady and warm. “This is Leah.”

She is congratulated in turns, but Prudence can’t help but shake the feeling that the glassy-eyed crowd had formed into one, single entity.

From then on, Prudence is a well respected member of the community. It frightens her how quickly she becomes comfortable among the hedonists. But aside from the more obvious, glaring differences, it actually isn’t all that much of a departure from her regular life. She still prays, muttering in hushed tones while huddled away in her tent, hoping that she will be forgiven for associating with such degenerates. But if there was a place that God could not reach, it would be this one. There are times she witnesses unblessed things, and turns her eyes quickly away, or learns more of the hippies’ private affairs than she ever hoped to.

No, she does not want to stay here for too long, lest she be corrupted by their lustful madness. It is this foreboding thought which clings to her as she lopes through knee-high grass, far steadier and confident in her wedged sandals than she was before. As she passes by tents and waves greetings towards her enemies, cursing them under her breath.

From today, it will be half a week until Monday rolls around. By then, she anticipates she will find proof of Adam’s guilt. But Prudence is pushed by a sense of urgency; something just seems terribly, terribly wrong about this place. She needs to resolve it now.

With a deep sigh, she approaches the main pavilion and steps inside. Again, she passes by a waterfall of clacking beads, hears the gentle call of wind-chimes, and a strong, blanketing aura of peace washes over her. Adam is once more sitting cross-legged on his mat. But today, he is alone.

“Leah. Good morning,” he cocks his head mischievously up at her. “Up bright and early?”

His brown hair falls down his shoulders in tresses, and with his vibrant green earrings and vestments, he looks rather like an oak tree today.

“Mhm,” she nods. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Tell us, then. What is it?”

“Well,” She starts, then realises somewhat late that he’s cradling something sharp and alien in his arms. “Uh, what’s that?”

“She’s a Venus flytrap,” he says, holding ‘her’ up as proudly as if she was his own child. “Not too big right now, but… Well, you’ll see.”

“Her name is Arabella,” he continues.

Prudence shuffles awkwardly, then decides to mirror his sitting position to avoid lollygagging. No, that wasn’t what she had meant to ask him, she…

“You’ve never seen one before? I’m surprised.”

“No,” she shakes her head before she can stop herself. “I mean, seeing it now, I know what it is, but I was never allowed to- to…”

Adam sets down his plant.

Prudence pales, but his expression remains relaxed and easygoing. Then, words start pouring out of her like the leakage of a drain pipe.

“Only the bible, I only read the King James bible. Wasn’t supposed to read any other… Other books…” Suddenly it feels as if all the breath is stolen from her lungs, like something strange and foreign is expanding inside, bleeding and infesting.

“It’s alright, Leah,” he soothes. “Keep going.”

No, no… An itch in the back of her brain is screaming at her to shut her mouth. Why is she telling him this? Maybe it is the aroma of incense, the powerful, intoxicating scent that’s clouding her mind. Yes, she wants to tell him. Tell him everything...

“But I did,” her mouth is running of its own accord now. “Even though she told me not to. I did, and I got such silly thoughts in my mind…” She shakes her head at the memory. She still feels disgusted with herself. “They had to be corrected, had to be…”

(God’ll make you right, mama snarled into her freshly boxed ear. He’ll fix you even if I can’t.)

“Did she hit you often?”

Prudence stares up at him in abject horror. She still can’t see his eyes behind the shades.

“No, I- I mean,” her voice is as small and quiet as it was back then. “Yes, sometimes, but it was my own stupid fault, I shouldn’t have…”

(I know when you lie, Prudence. He knows when you lie. Lying is a sin, Prudence. Liars will burn for an eternity in hell. Is that what you want, Prudence?)

She clears her throat and realises it’s parched.

“Have a snack, Leah. Here’s some orange juice.” Adam slides his drink over to her. Her hands accept it automatically; she’s obeying him mindlessly now.

“It wasn’t your fault, Leah. You understand that, right? What she did to you was abusive.”

(I do this because I love you. You think anyone else out there would want a defective child like you?)

Prudence is peeling a lemon off his fruit platter. Normally, she recoils at the bitterness of it. But now it tastes like freedom. She doesn’t even realise she’s crying until tears soak her thighs.

“But you don’t need her anymore, Leah. You have us now, Leah. All you need is us, Leah.”

(All you need is him, Prudence. Do you understand me? Rely on God, and he will provide…)

Everything is swimming together in technicolour hues. Adam’s mouth is cracking open like the alluring maw of the Venus flytrap. She can’t resist…

Adam claps his hands together.

She jumps. Her monstrous vision disappears.

“So. What did you come in here to ask me about?”

Oh. What did she… Her memory is so murky it’s like she’s roaming through dirty water. Her senses feel as if they’re clogged up with sewage.

“… Heard that you… Did tarot readings…” Prudence murmurs faintly.

Was that what she wanted?

She can’t remember.

“Ah,” he chortles, and strokes his fluffy beard. “Okay. You wouldn’t be the first. Wait here a second.”

Adam springs up with unexpected vigour and breezes past the beads into a seperate tent. He returns with a deck of vibrantly drawn cards. Prudence focuses on the way his bangles clink together as he shuffles, so light and pleasant, like coins in a tithe box.

So pleasant, like those brief, precious moments when her mother was kind, when she loved her, because she was good and pious and Christian. And if mama’s love bared claws and teeth, how dangerous would another’s be? She had to be kept safe and pure, always watched over by God’s all-seeing eye.

She blinks away tears again.

No. I don’t want to think about my mother anymore.

Adam’s softly worded instructions are passing noiselessly through her ears. All she hears is buzzing, like countless honeybees.

“Leah.”

Prudence flinches.

Adam patiently taps on the floor.

Before her are three cards. On her left, a queenly woman lies upside down and lopsided. In front, a priest. On her right, a hanged man.

“I…” She stutters.

I don’t know what it means.

“It’s not about knowing, Leah,” Adam’s voice echoes inside her mind. “We don’t think in absolutes.”

Yes. we don’t think in absolutes.

“We are kind and tolerant and welcoming.”

Yes, we are kind and tolerant and welcoming.

Her orange juice ripples. It’s now grapefruit purple.

“Now have a drink, Leah.”

Yes, have a drink….

What was in the drink… What was in…

Prudence downs the cup in one, large gulp. It doesn’t burn as it goes down, but it tingles. It doesn’t stop even when she escapes the confines of his tent. She realises she can’t breathe, that her lungs are constricting, tightening like a vice clamped down over her chest, oh no, she claws at her top, oh no stop I need to stop it stop thinking that, and rushes past Soren on her way to a bucket, I’m sick I’m sick I’m sick where she retches and throws up and expels so much filthy, sinful thoughts that it leaves her cold and empty inside.

It feels like an eternity passes as she kneels and stares at her own slimy vomit. She’s trembling, somehow so acutely afraid that her body will collapse altogether. Prudence winces when a hand is placed on her shoulder. It’s cautious and gentle, but right now it feels that all human touch will burn her.

She whirls around. It’s Soren.

“Leah, are you alright?” His voice sounds so far away, as if smothered with a muffler.

“No- I’m, no,” her words spill out, jumbled.

Soren’s bearded face twists in concern. Prudence blinks away tears, but he still looks blurry.

“Hey,” he tries. “Why don’t we get you something to clean you up?” And then he seems like he wants to say more, but stops himself.

Prudence nods, and allows herself to be led.

Her distress didn’t go unnoticed. Everyone she meets offers her water and soft, fruity yoghurts to soothe her throat and wash away the aftertaste. They all cast her sympathetic gazes and stroke her back as she mumbles out censored, ambiguous versions of her story. It’s all so overwhelming. But at the same time, the overwhelming pity is addictive.

For a short time, their eyes are alert and bright. They also share tales bearing resemblances to hers. Sofie finds her and wraps her in a soft, warm hug, one like she’s never experienced before. I had nowhere to go either, she says. But at the end of the world, I found my place here. It is now, swaddled in deep, unconditional compassion that she feels herself sliding down towards the point of no return. What’s worse, she’s letting it happen.

Leah can’t fight it anymore. Yes. They were a family. She just didn’t see it before. They cared. They weren’t going to hurt her.

And just like that, the Venus flytrap snaps shut.

Then, Monday arrives, too fast, too soon.

Leah has been kept so busy, scrubbing and glueing and painting and crying and dancing. Now, the day has come. She feels light as air today, free and unburdened now. Sofie runs over and greets her, hoisting a colourful sign over her shoulder. Leah rushes to bear it with her. It’s a heavy weight, so they’ll carry it together.

Both of them dip through a throng of tents and head over to join the main gathering. The full scale of her family is an awe-inducing sight. It’s a waving sea of long hair, flowing skirts and flashing bandanas. Minus the small children who are left behind, there are perhaps over two hundred people at this rally.

In massive unison. They raise their flags and march into the windswept plains like a holy crusade. Leah allows herself to be coated with dabs and splashes of vibrant colour, so that now they shimmer like a kaleidoscope. These nonconformists, with the same sedated smiles, the same tranquilised eyes.

Flooding over grasslands, Leah finds herself slotted into her appropriate role. She knows that Adam himself is leading their charge at the front.

“Are we going there?” She asks, pointing down towards a strip of the highway teeming with trucks.

“No,” mutters Soren beside her. He’s drenched in sweat, eyes blown wide and feverish. “We’re going to liberate them directly, cops be damned…”

Immediately, she understands.

They arrive, flowing through into the tortured woods and spilling over already decapitated stumps. Adam bids them all to sit and be patient, but Leah can’t wait that long. She’s frenzied like a hungry piranha, desperate for a whiff of blood.

Then it comes. The flashing chrome plate of a lorry bustling in, puffing thick, grey plumes of smoke into the air. But it breaks, growling monstrously in the face of their smiling huddle. A cigar-chomping logger climbs out of the driver’s seat and slams the door, his ruddy face twisted in displeasure.

Adam only grins slyly at him. Leah strains up on her tip-toes to try and see over the crowd. All she can hear are spat accusations of ‘ecoterrorist’ and ‘filthy hippie.’ More trucks are pulling in now, revving menacingly. The collective does not budge.

More loggers disembark. They are cursed at, spat on, belittled, though not attacked. Not yet.

Adam continues to pursue diplomacy. There’s something barbed and violently red-green cradled lovingly in his arms. It’s Arabella.

Leah starts to think that perhaps this isn’t an attempt to be diplomatic at all, and a coil of excitement begins to build in her stomach.

Abruptly, she strikes!

Her maw gapes wide open, pulsing into enormity. The logger doesn’t even have a chance to shriek before Arabella consumes him.

The broken stalemate erupts into chaos. Beneath them, the vegetation springs up and entraps their helpless, screaming prey. Vines spring from the canopy and strangle them, impaling them on razor sharp stems. They bloom into huge, crimson flowers. Arabella feasts ravenously, and grows larger, mightier, dwarfing all of them now. The stragglers fall into a panic and flee for safety, but their vast opposition swells and drowns them under waves of multicoloured banners.

An earthy crack thunders across the scene, and the ground trembles. Leah gapes, enraptured, as the injured forest heals before her eyes. The stumps were regenerating… Healthy, thick bark feasting on the blood and flesh of their killers. Everyone else has stopped, too, craning their heads up to watch as the newborn trees reach far above into the sky.

Adam orchestrates it all with a serene hum. His consciousness buzzes in their heads:

“Let us rejoice, my friends, for it is not my doing alone that performed this miracle, but a manifestation of our will. Our voices. I’d like to thank you all for your contributions. Your faith, your love and your acceptance sustains me.”

Leah’s heart flutters with a rush of gratitude. No. It was all him. It always was. The frightened, repressed woman she was before had shed her skin, remoulding into a serpent. And here was the garden of Eden, the benevolent prize of a God.

That night, she dances wantonly around the bonfire, and it licks high, stoked by the passions of two hundred delirious fanatics.

This is what it is like to be free, she breathes.

“Leah,” calls a familiar voice. She turns around.

Soren’s staring at her, and there’s a glint in his eyes she can’t quite place. The light of the flames casts ghostly shadows on his bearded face.

“I thought you were just putting on an act, to be honest. I didn’t realise you were this committed…” He tells her. His Adam's Apple bobs nervously.

“And now…?” Leah murmurs, and loosens her shawl.

Soren walks up to her and kisses her. Her hands find themselves wound in his hair, tugging. Embracing, they stumble into her tent, and make love.

After that, everything blurs together in one messy, lusty fever. Nothing matters anymore except Adam, except the family, except flowers and trees. Leah’s sunglasses gleam in the light, shaded gold, shaded rose, never bitter or sour. Never ashamed.

One afternoon, the messiah approaches.

“Come. Walk with me,” he commands.

Leah finds herself obeying him without thinking too hard about it. She doesn’t do much thinking these days. She doesn’t have to. She is led to a clearing where the poppies grow tall, where the butterflies flutter, and the air is clear and sweet.

“I’m glad you’ve found happiness with us,” says Adam. His voice is lilting, like birdsong. “You’ve adjusted well. It must’ve been hard for you.”

“No, not at all!” Leah exclaims. She shakes her head. It feels numb, slightly pin-pricked.

He smiles gently at her, but the crinkles around his eyes lie dormant. Leah can’t remember if she’s ever seen them wrinkle before.

“I’m doing really well,” she feels the need to repeat it over and over: “Really, really well.”

Adam reclines on the grass. Leah kneels beside him. He brushes a hand over the greenery, and it bursts forth in blooms of blushing pink and canary yellow, as if desperate for his touch. Then, he does something very unexpected.

He takes off his glasses. Leah sucks in a breath. His eyes are- they’re- no, they’re not, they’re-

For a while, her world is fractured. She stares at him. He looks like a father. Or a Father.

“Prudence.” He finally begins, stroking his beard, looking significantly older than he did before. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing.”

She’s nodding. Of course she does.

“Well… To a certain degree, we all do,” he continues, and sighs, almost painfully. “Believe me when I say I understand what you’re going through.”

For a split second, he seems almost human.

“What I’m…?” But her mind blanks.

Almost. His eyes are twinkling with something that is not mirth or humour.

“Your big decision,” he continues.

She doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“But I know that when the time comes, you’ll make the right choice,” he finishes, and looks away. He puts his glasses back on.

Then he is untouchable once more, far above her. Adam pulls himself up off the ground. A tiny sapling is still clinging to his pant leg.

“I’ll see you around, sister.” He pats her shoulder fondly, drifts away, and leaves her standing there, alone. The birds are quiet, then.

They’re so quiet.

Prudence, he’d called her.

Oh. She feels nauseous.

Abruptly, it all comes flooding back. Her sweet high crashes down into the mud and dirt. Prudence looks down at herself. Her ears are ringing. She’s so filthy.

The mist clears, if only for a moment. She sees the gardens full of sin, now. Venomous green, jaundice yellow, blood red. Even the sky is turning a violent, bubbling purple. It’s choked with poison, intoxicating and deadly. It is false, hollow, lies.

Prudence breaks into a sprint towards the road, anywhere away from here. Soon, the vibrant meadow gives way to grimy asphalt.

It’s all real. All corporate, grossly neat design.

Now, the dream is over, but the sickeningly pleasant haze is still buzzing around her mind like a swarm of bees, threatening to submerge her again.

She forgot. How could she? Foolish, godless girl.

Prudence stumbles, feverish, across the grassy bank along the highway. Almost limping, she falls against a roadside phone booth. She pulls it open, hands slippery with sweat. There’s a small paper lodged in her knuckles; her only salvation. She needs to seek help now, or this fog will never lift.

Her hands are trembling as she punches out the sequence scrawled on the slip. Once she calls this number, it’ll all be over.

She only needs to wait a moment before the dial tone fizzles out into static. The person on the other end is waiting. Prudence swallows. Her throat is dry.

“Apricot.” She says in a shrill, choked voice.

She slams the phone back with a metallic clang.

The day passes, and she does not sleep.

Now, It’s too late to turn back.

Beside her, her partner is smirking. He’s never appeared so cruel to her until now. There’s something hard and cold in his eyes.

Flanking them is a row of cops and police cars, armed with shotguns and revolvers gleaming in the light. They’ve come on her signal, and now they have her target surrounded.

Adam is standing in front of her, defenceless. The tip of her pistol meets the centre of his forehead. He smiles at her, so infuriatingly serene.

“Sister…” He’s saying in his soft voice.

Prudence’s lungs feel tiny, constricting in her chest like she’s being strangled by a boa. Hot tears prick her eyes. She loves him.

“I have to… I have to do this…” She mutters feverishly.

All is still. Her finger twitches, ready.

“Yes. You know what you have to do, don’t you?” He coos at her. “You’ve always known.”

She always has. Prudence pulls the trigger.

Her bullet hits her partner straight in the eye.

The world explodes with light. White hot pain shoots through her ribs, and she’s falling, and her body is sprawled on the ground. Everything is spinning.

Someone is shouting, but she can barely hear it above the din of gunfire. In her blurry vision, she watches as a police car is swallowed whole by gigantic vines and cops are melded screaming into the fertile metal. She feels herself grinning, ecstatic, laughing madly.

She did it. She did it. She made the right choice.

Adam is standing above her, bathed in sunlight, his arms outstretched, shining like a beacon. In her eyes, he is the source of all life, and life overwhelms all.

Then, everything is quiet, except for the soft crunch of feet on grass, coming closer.

She is aware of gentle hands cupping her face, cradling her in a blooming flower bed. She tilts her eyes upwards to see the glowing face of Adam.

“Prudence.”

He’s saying her real name, murmuring softly. She barely hears it over the ringing in her ears. Everything is numb and fuzzy, like her body is wrapped in gauze. She’s tired, so tired. She wants to fall asleep in his arms like an exhausted child.

She knows she’s dying.

“Now you’ll become a part of me.”

He hushes her when she tries to speak. Something wet and cold is rushing out of her, emptying her body. But he brushes over her eyelids, and tiny daisies push out of her mouth. Her lungs are filled with mushrooms. Ivy is winding up her legs and into her skin. Nothing else matters now. He’s looking down at her like a benevolent God.

She feels a sense of completion, like her life has meaning. Her death will have meaning.

Leah smiles. She closes her eyes.

Dear Prudence

See the sunny skies

The wind is low, the birds will sing

That you are part of everything

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @soupbabe, @bluecoolr-main, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @solmints-messyocdiary, @flower-crowned-lady, @probably-a-plant-thing, @myers-meadow)

#I shouldn’t be allowed to write fics this long wtf 💀#someone take google docs away from me #so sorry if your name is Prudence or Leah. I chose the latter randomly #half of this gushed outta me like a waterfall #so uh enjoy I guess??#possible period piece (60s/70s)#Adam #Bill Sage #slasher oc #horror oc #fic #oc #my writing

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