#Personally I felt the roasts were a bit mid
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btw for those that missed the roasting of tubbo his friends basically called him a horny party animal with zero consideration for the time of day who would/has shagged everyone remotely male looking that breathes in his area
#tubbo#Personally I felt the roasts were a bit mid#Chat could have done better#But no one else in chat was saying that#If even an ounce of what was said was accurate 2020 uwu tubbo fans would die of a heart attack#I hope it’s true#It would be funny
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Name: Thexikas
I wanted to make him look scary with half of his face ruined by Orin, but I couldn't replicate the look in bg3's character creator. So here is my little sketch instead.
Nickname: The Thrice-sworn/The Dark Urge
He swore his oath three times, each for a different purpose. (Details at the back)
Gender: Male
Star Sign: Aries
Height: 190cm(ish)
Orientation: Panromantic
Race: Tiefling
Romancing: Gale
Despite their rather rocky start (the distrust was mutual), Gale won him over with his cooking. After that, they were always there for each other, with Thexikas hunting any magical artefacts that Gale could consume and Gale watching over him when the tiefling was deep in the urge's throes.
Fave fruit: Anything sweet, such as bananas and dragon fruits. He may not show it, but Thexikas has a huge sweet tooth.
Fave season: Mid-summer
He is a tiefling, so he is accustomed to high temperature environment, and for some inexplicable reason he really likes those violent thunder storms with lightning flashes and heavy rain.
Fave flower: Thexikas knew little about flowers, but he did have a preference for roses, especially the red ones. The colour reminded him of blood.
After his memory returned, he was still drawn to roses, but he felt very guilty about it.
Fave scent: Roasted meat, because he liked good food. It was hard to come by during the days when he lived in Bhaal's temple.
After he moved to Waterdeep, the scent of old book/alchemical mixtures became his favourite- because it reminded him of home.
Coffee, tea or hot chocolate: Hot chocolate because it is sweet.
Average sleep hours: Eight, but when he was on the road he slept much less than that. Most of the time he would stand guard for his companions.
Dogs or cats: Both!
Thexikas is a bit afraid of Tara, because he knows her fireball is capable of penetrating all his fiendish resistance. (Besides, Tara gave him the shovel talk.)
Dream trip: While he was amnesiac, he wanted to visit Avernus- or any realms belonging to the infernal. He wished to see the source of his fiendish blood, for Thexikas mistakenly thought the urge to kill is due to some sort of a devil's curse. If he could unravel the mystery, perhaps he could either master it or be rid of it.
Amount of blankets: It is either none(summer) or 10(winter), there is no in between.
Random fact(s):
He had been an oath of conquest paladin during his Chosen days, spreading the cult of murder in his father's name. After losing his memory, Thexikas experienced vague flashes of him wielding immense power. Angered by the loss, he took up the oath of vengeance to kill whoever took that power. However, the taste of justice was bittersweet. It was after his sister's death that the tenets of vengeance lost their appeal.
He broke his oath by sparing Viconia Devir. Jaheira told him about the story of the last Bhaalspawn who spurned divinity to be with his lover- a former Sharran drow. Unfortunately, even with all his intellect and arcane might, the Bhaalspawn still lost his life to protect his beloved from assassins. Thexikas intuited that Viconia was the woman whom his predecessor fell for, although the drow seemed not to remember Gorion's Ward anymore. Moved by the tale, he decided to free her again in honour of his predecessor. (Yeah, I am unhappy about how bg3 handles Viconia's arc, so here's my little headcanon as a remedy)
Inspired by the life of the last Bhaalspawn, Thexikas broke his chains. He was no longer his father's pawn, nor was he a blood-crazed madman who killed for vengeance. Now he could truly live, with the one person he swore an oath of devotion for.
Alternative Ending: Fearful of his love life sharing the same trend as the last Bhaalspawn, he made Gale a god. In this way he would not die- at least not in a mortal sense. Then Thexikas went back to the root and became an oath of conquest paladin again, because it was what he good at. Many would know him as Ambition's hound, conquering new domains in his god's name.
tagged by @galedekarios!
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𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ... 2/3
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 . it’s the day after what happened with eddie and it’s time to face the music--you just hope steve can find it in himself to forgive you
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 . one / three
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 .18+ situations, oral sex (male receiving), hand jobs, minimal dirty talk
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . i want to thank everyone for the support on the first part of this! i’d also like to apologize for the lackluster smut in this one--it was my first time writing male receiving oral so it’s a bit rusty (and short). i’ve finally decided this will officially be three parts, with the last one being a bit longer so it might take me more time than parts one or two. remember to like, comment and reblog if you enjoy reading! do not repost/claim as your own please
𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀���� 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐘 been a mistake to grab breakfast with Eddie before heading over to Steve’s the morning after everything had transpired between you two. However, with the taste of diner pancakes on your tongue and the feel of Eddie’s lips still on yours, you walked up the familiar stone steps to the front door and rang the bell. Your heart slammed against your breastbone, so hard and fast you swear you could hear it but really it was just the blood rushing in your ears.
You had been standing in that exact spot over a year ago, the exact same sense of panic settling in the cradle of your chest cavity as you again waited for the door to open; that time it had been Steve’s mother however that had opened the door. It had been your first time meeting her and Steve’s dad over a nice dinner of roasted duck, Steve’s hand on your thigh under the kitchen table as he helpfully guided you through the dry conversation. They hadn’t been impressed with you–Steve’s parents–to them you were just another mark against their son; but they had played the perfect hosts before walking you to the door at the end of the night–the same night in which Steve snuck you back inside and fucked you on the same table you’d forced down the dry duck earlier.
That encounter now seemed like a far away memory, a foggy experience that felt like it belonged to a different person–someone you no longer were. You loved Steve; you had loved him then and you still loved him now as you waited for him to open that door, but nothing ever stayed the same. Gone were the days of your relationship where you both could pretend that nothing was wrong and there wasn’t the ghost of his relationship with Nancy hanging overhead, or the growing tension of whatever there was between you and Eddie.
Now you were just clinging to the remnants of what was left and hoping there was something salvageable there.
After a few moments of increasing panic and talking yourself out of just running away, the door slowly opened and there was Steve on the other side. His eyes were closed in mid yawn as he rubbed the sleep out of them and sniffed, blinking the tiredness away you saw him finally focus on you and he smiled. It was an all too familiar smile that had the last of your restraint holding on for dear life so you didn’t spill your guts right there all over the nice patio. That embarrassment would only serve to provide the neighbors with an interesting show to report back to Steve’s parents when they called for updates on their son and whether he’d managed to burn down the house yet.
“Hey there,” he hummed, bringing your attention back to the present.
“Hi,” you croaked out, swallowing. You could feel the muscles of your throat tensing as your eyes itched with the urge to cry, but you managed to hold it in as you put on a convincing smile. “Did I wake you up?”
You asked as he reached out and grabbed your shaking hand, not commenting on it he pulled you into the house. The only light in the space was what streamed through the dust ladened curtains Steve’s mom would send off to be cleaned upon her return, or maybe she would just buy all new ones and be done with it. The house lights were off and as you walked into the living room you could see the remnants of Steve and Robin’s movie night–sleeping bags, half eaten bowl of stale popcorn, crumpled bags of half eaten chips, and crushed soda cans.
“Uh….” Steve yawned, shaking his head. “Yeah, but it’s fine. Robin was over here for a while and I had to drive her home so I didn’t get to bed until pretty late. It’s not like I have work though so I can probably catch a nap later.”
The movie store had been one casualty of the Upside Down reeking havoc on this side of the dimension and as far as rebuilding Hawkins went it was low on the priority list. Thankfully, Steve’s parents were well off and hadn’t written their son completely off yet, but you knew Steve hated depending on them; their kindness always came with a price.
Not for the first time, you wondered how much they had offered him if he broke up with you.
“So what brings you over?” Steve asked, plopping back down on the couch. “We didn’t have a date did we?”
At first he laughs it off like a joke and you smile, but then he stills and frowns looking at you:
“Did we?”
“No,” you snort and shake your head, sitting down by his bare feet–he wore a white t-shirt and plaid pajama pants. “I just wanted to see you.”
“Did you now?” Steve smirked, sitting up slowly he looked you in the eye and then his gaze flicked to your lips and he leaned in for a kiss.
You resisted the urge to back away, wanting selfishly to have that kiss just in case it ended up being your last. Closing your eyes, you felt him press against you, his hands finding their home on your hips as your lips met. Your back pressed against the arm of the sofa as Steve shifted his weight to hover over you, your knees knocking together as his legs settled on either side of you. Smiling, you pressed soft kisses to his lips, hands coming up to frame his face. You could feel the tickle of his disheveled hair on the backs of your hands as he deepened the kiss.
Neither one of you wanted to stop at just kissing, you knew that, but you also knew that it wouldn’t be fair to go further without telling Steve what had happened. Still, even as Steve groaned and shifted, moving his hands to the bottom of your shirt to pull it up, you did nothing to stop him. Instead, you lifted your arms to help him pull off your shirt. The warm pads of his fingers press into the bare skin of your back as you go back to kissing, your own hands finding purchase in his hair.
“God,” Steve sighed, his kisses moving to the length of your jaw. “I love you….”
Your body froze when you heard those words, eyes now glued to the ceiling as Steve continued to mouth at the skin of your neck. Those three words circled around in your head as you felt your grip on his hair loosen and the tears fill your eyes. You knew you had to tell him, and you had to tell him now before anything else happened, but you also knew that this could be the last time you got to be with him like this–hold him like this. Not only that, but this could be the last time you got to tell him that you loved him too and have him believe you.
“I love you too,” you found yourself whispering, lips brushing against the skin above his ear, your tears falling down your face and onto his. You felt the moment Steve stilled, his mouth pulling away from your neck, breath cold as it blew over the saliva on your skin. He stayed like that for a moment, elbows digging gently into the tops of your shoulders as he held himself up. Those few moments of silence felt like an eternity as you both just just lay there for a moment in each other’s arms.
“Did I do something wrong?” Steve finally asked, pulling back to look at your tear stained face. “Are you hurt?”
You looked at the frown on his lips, it wasn’t one of anger but of concern and that just broke your heart even more. Steve cared about you–he loved you–and though you didn’t regret what had happened with Eddie for one second, you hated that it had come from your own insecurities about Steve’s feelings for you. He may hold some residual love for his ex, but there was still a place for you there too–at least for now.
“We need to talk,” you found yourself saying, reaching up to wipe away your tears.
“Ah shit,” Steve groaned, sitting up and pulling you with him. “Sounds serious….”
Flushing, you shifted away to give him some space, locating your shirt so you could hug it to your chest. You couldn’t meet his eyes as you thought of how to form the right words to say or of some way to soften the blow of your infidelity, though the likelihood of that possibility was slim if not nonexistent.
“You can tell me,” he spoke softly–you could see him playing with the tie of his pants nervously from the corner of your eyes, “even if it’s….bad, you can well me.”
His words of comfort did little to settle the pit eating away at your insides, the knot in your stomach only seemed to pull tighter–cutting off the circulation to the rest of your body as you took a shaky breath in and out. It really was now or never because you knew if you chickened out you’d probably never admit to what you did and even though it hurt to think about the outcome Steve had a right to know.
“I did something,” you forced out, closing your eyes to steady yourself, “and it was….bad.”
Bad–a mirror of Steve’s words; bad didn’t even begin to describe what you had done.
“And I don’t know where it leaves us,” you continued, “but you have a right to know.”
You looked up at him to see that he was listening, brow furrowed and thumb teasing his bottom lip as he looked at you. He gestured for you to continue and crossed his arms, shifting his body so he was angled towards you, shoulder resting against the back of the couch. You nodded and took another breath.
“Eddie and I….” You started but that didn’t sound right. “Last night, I was smoking with Eddie in his room and….”
You trailed off as you saw Steve shake his head, thumb coming up to worry his bottom lip once more. Already he knew where this was going, you could see that, but you still found yourself needing to say it.
“We didn’t sleep together,” you explained, “but something did happen between us last night.”
The silence didn’t last long between you before Steve was letting out a big breath and getting up from the couch. At first you thought he might just walk out of the room and leave, but instead you watched as he paced from one end to the other, running his hands through his hair. Your gaze followed him as he stopped on the other side of the coffee table, foot tapping the ground as he put his hands on his hips.
“Steve-”
“What exactly did you two do?” He shook his head, eyes on the floor instead of you.
“What?” You licked your lips.
“If you didn’t sleep together,” he gritted out, eyes shooting up to lock with yours, “then what happened?”
“Steve, do you really want to-” You started.
“Just tell me,” he cut you off again. “Just tell me what happened.”
You hesitated but one look at his pained face and you sighed, knowing you had no choice but to tell him.
“We kissed,” you started off, “and he touched me-”
“Where?” Steve interjected. “Where did he touch you?”
“Does it really matter?” You frowned. You knew he was upset but what good would it do to know all the dirty details?
“I asked, didn't I?” Steve insisted. “Now tell me–where did he touch you?”
For a moment, you resisted–you thought about just getting up and leaving and letting Steve stew on it for a couple of days but the fact that he was still speaking to you at least had you staying in your spot. Maybe you at least owed him this, for the sake of closure, though you didn’t know what closure was to be had in knowing what another guy had done to your girl.
“He touched me here,” you laid a hand at the top of your breast, the shirt you had been holding there sinking down to expose the pale tops of them, “and….and between my legs, okay?”
“What else did he do to you?” Steve replied, shifting back and forth on his feet.
“Steve….” You pleaded, pulling the shirt back up, hugging it to you like a shield. He didn’t say anything, just stared at you waiting, but you could see the hurt in his eyes so you stopped fighting–this is what he wanted. “He went down on me and that’s it, I promise.”
And just like that it was all out in the open now and there you were sitting on the couch as Steve stood in front of you, not saying anything. He continued to not say anything for several moments, and you didn’t know what to say to fill that silence so you just sat there in it–like some kind of punishment. It wasn’t nearly as much as you deserved; you expected Steve to yell and cry and kick you out, but there he was just looking at his feet as you waited for retribution.
Maybe that was what the silence was–retribution–because it was steadily driving you mad.
“Why?” The dam finally broke when Steve brokenly croaked out that one word, and you’d almost rather go back to the silence because you’d be lying if you said you knew how to answer that.
“I don’t know, Steve,” you answered honestly. “Trust me, I know that’s a lame excuse but I don’t know why I did what I did.”
“So it was a spur of the moment thing to cheat on me?” Steve frowned. “I’m supposed to just accept that?”
“You don’t have to accept anything,” you respond, shaking your head, “but I’m not going to give you some bullshit excuse that I don’t have, Steve, that’s not fair.”
“Oh, that’s not fair,” Steve snorted, “like fucking around with Eddie Munson is somehow fair?”
“I didn’t say that,” you defend yourself. “I know what I did was wrong but I’m trying to do the right thing now and-”
“Do you love him?” Steve asked, stopping you mid sentence.
You stared at him, mouth agape as you thought of how to respond to that question. It would be wrong to say yes but also to say no wouldn’t be completely true, because your feelings for Eddie weren’t so black and white. You knew you felt deeply for him, but it was still too soon to determine how deep those feelings ran and if they were even comparable to what Steve and you had.
“Do you love him?” Steve repeated, drawing you back to the moment.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I care about him a lot, though.”
“Like you cared about me?” Steve replied brokenly.
“I still care about you,” you insisted.
“Then why did you-” he started.
“Because I let myself get wrapped up in the moment,” you cut him off for once. “I was feeling really shitty last night and thinking about you and me and you and Nancy and it just-”
“Wait, what do Nancy and I have to do with anything?” Steve frowned.
“....I thought you were falling back in love with her, Steve,” you admitted. “With everything going on I saw Nancy and you getting closer and sometimes when I looked at the both of you together it just….made sense. You seemed so happy with that familiarity, and when you talked to her about your vision of the future-”
“So it’s my fault because my ex and I get along?” Steve cut in.
“I didn’t say that,” you groaned, covering your face as you leaned into the back of the couch. “Look, it’s 100% my fault–it’s not even Eddie’s. I’m the one who made the decision to step out on our relationship and you can’t imagine how sorry I am for that Steve. My insecurities about you and Nancy….they aren’t an excuse.”
You felt the tears from your eyes slip through your fingers as you tried to hold it together. Crying now wasn’t going to solve anything, and you weren’t about to try and guilt trip Steve to show some mercy. Wiping off your damp face, you sniffled and looked up at Steve who was now sitting crossed legged on the floor, his own face in his hands now.
“I know it fixes nothing,” you croaked out, “but I am sorry that it happened this way, Steve.”
“You’re right,” Steve hummed, sighing as he lifted his head, “it fixes nothing.”
You two stared at each other for a second before Steve was standing up and heading towards the adjoining dining room.
“I need a drink,” he mumbled.
At first, you thought it was time for you to go but you couldn’t imagine just leaving everything like that–without any real resolution. So, after only a few moments you found yourself getting up to follow Steve through the doorway. You found him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a beer in his hand. It was early for alcohol, but you didn’t say anything as you rested your hand on the doorway leading into the kitchen, eyes on him.
“You know the fucked up thing is,” he hummed, watching the liquid twirl around in the dark brown bottle, “I’d still do anything to make sure we stayed together. Pathetic, huh?”
“It’s not pathetic,” you assured him, watching as he threw back the last of the bottle and tossed it into the sink. “It’s certainly more than I expected, though.”
“Why?” He snorted. “I’m crazy about you….this doesn’t change that.”
“It should,” you moved more into the kitchen, hands falling to your side as you continued to look at him. “What I did was….awful, Steve. You deserve better.”
“I’ve never been good at accepting what I deserve,” he admitted with a chuckle, looking at you brokenly.
And with that, you found yourself wrapping your arms around him and without hesitation he held you right back. You felt him pressing his face into your neck, burying into the flesh there as he let out a shuddering breath–the sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. Your hands stroked up the length of his arms, and you could feel the pads of his fingers caressing the bare skin of your lower back. For a moment, you allowed yourself to close your arms and let the feeling of him sink into your bones, hoping to imprint it into the marrow. This could be the last time you held him like this, who knew what would happen when the emotion cleared up and Steve had time to think more about what you did.
“I love you,” you found yourself whispering brokenly, knowing it could be the last time you got to say it.
You felt Steve shift in your hold at those words, and you feared you had ruined the moment and he was going to pull away. Instead of pulling away, however, you felt the press of his lips against your collarbone. Not stopping there, you froze in place as you felt him drag the kisses across the length of your body and down to the tops of your breasts.
“Steve…” you found yourself saying, fingers sliding into his hair to stop him. Instead, you found yourself guiding him up to the other side of your neck he hadn’t kissed yet.
His hands found your hips, pulling them against his as he continued his assault on the skin of your neck, shoulders, and chest. No part of the exposed area was safe as you struggled to understand what was happening; never when you imagined his reaction did you expect it to escalate like this. Not that you were complaining as you found yourself being turned and placed on the edge of the countertop.
Steve pulled back to tug off his shirt, not saying anything as he leaned back in to press your lips together. Moaning, you combed your fingers through his hair and returned his kiss, tugging on the soft strands. Hearing him groan, you pull back and capture his bottom lip in your teeth, pulling on it before releasing.
You press your foreheads together as you give both you and Steve a moment to collect yourselves and clear your heads. You wanted to make sure that Steve really wanted this, and as you felt him press the evidence of his desire into your leg, you were sure that at least his body did.
“Let me….” you hummed, sliding your hand down the length of his chest, teasing and tugging at the thick trail of hair that led right into his pants.
Widening his stance for you, Steve watched with hooded eyes as you sank your hand into the waistband of his pajama pants. You heard him let out a soft sigh as you brushed against his semi-hard cock, your nails scratching gently across the length of him before you wrapped your fingers around his girth. Already you could feel him hardening slowly, the circumference thickening under your touch as you began to stroke up and down.
Groaning, Steve pressed his forehead into your shoulder as he held himself steady, not allowing himself to pump into your grip just yet. You smiled, loving having this amount of control over him as your other hand slipped into his pants to join your ministrations; while one hand jerked him off at a steady pace, the other slipped underneath to cup the weight of his balls. Gasping, his hips moved forward of their own accord, pushing his cock further into your grip.
“Shit…” Steve laughed, lifting his head to look into your eyes, “forgot how good at this you are….”
You blushed under his praise, rolling your eyes as you focused back on the task at hand–or more like in your hand. The grip you had on him tightened just enough to increase his pleasure as you stroked and squeezed him.
“Did….” he sighed, eyes closing again, “did you touch him like this?”
“Steve….” you bit your lip, unsure if you should entertain his question.
“Please,” he grunted, moving his hips rhythmically–intune with your touch, “tell me.”
“No,” you sighed, looking down at where your hands disappeared into his pants, noting the beginning of a wet spot spreading at the front. You brought your thumb up to smooth gently across the tip, listening as the air escaped Steve once more. “I didn’t touch him like this.”
“Did you want to?” Steve continued, his pace quickening as you teased his head. “Are you going to?”
“I wanted to,” you admitted, watching his face as pumped him, “I still want to, but I don’t know if I will….”
“Fuck,” Steve cursed, hands coming up to grip the counter on either side of your hips. “Take me out….”
You did as he asked, releasing his balls to use your free hand to push down both sides of his pants just enough to expose his penis. Your other hand was still quick at work, stroking him at a steady pace as pearly white precum escaped the tip. Hand slick with the stuff, it made the glide easier as Steve fucked into your grip.
“Could you….” Steve panted, hair starting to stick to his slick forehead. “I want your mouth.”
With only a moment's hesitation, you nodded in agreement and using your free hand pushed him back so you had room to sink to your knees. It didn’t take much time for Steve to find purchase in your hair and guide your mouth onto his cock. Careful with your teeth, you wrapped your lips around him and allowed him to move you where he wanted. You felt the press of his cock nearing the back of your mouth and you willed your gag reflex to relax and accept the intrusion without embarrassing you. Thankfully, it worked, and he slid slightly into the back of your throat before pulling almost all the way out only to repeat the process.
Gripping your head, Steve moved his hips in a decent rythme, fucking in and out of your mouth at his pleasure. You did find yourself gagging to your slight discomfort, but you focused as you looked up at Steve’s face. Head thrown back and eyes still closed, he let out breathy grunts of pleasure as he chased his end.
And his end didn’t take long much to the relief of your already aching knees, as you felt the grip in your hair tighten and Steve’s hips press forward and stutter. You weren’t a particular fan of swallowing but you accepted it gratefully this time, hands stroking his thighs comfortingly as you moaned around him. Coughing, you remind yourself to breathe through your nose as his release slides down your throat. Even after he’s done, you stay there a moment, his softening cock slipping from your slick lips, allowing yourself to catch your breath.
His fingers are still in your hair, but gentler this time as he strokes through the disheveled tangles and pushes them from your damp face. It is only then that you notice there were tears in your eyes, now staining the plains of your cheek as you let out a shaky laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Steve asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“When I came here today,” you hummed, pressing your forehead to his thigh, “I didn’t expect it to end like this.”
“Me either,” he snorted, and then grew quiet.
Sighing, you press a kiss to the inner skin of his thigh before slowly standing up, groaning at the stiffness in your knees and lower back. You felt Steve’s hands settle once more on your lower back as you settled against the counter and looked up at him.
“So where does this leave us?” He asked, hands sliding away from you to pull up his pants.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Wherever you want, I guess.”
“Great,” he sighed, and then continued after a pause, “I know I don’t want to lose you.”
“I don’t want to lose you either,” you echoed.
“But I also can’t forget that you also have feelings for Eddie now,” Steve rubbed his face, looking all of the sudden tired as he turned his back on you.
You watched as he paced back and forth in front of you like he had in the living room earlier. All of the sudden you were cold and tired and wanted nothing more than to have a nice hot shower and curl up in bed. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you hummed:
“Are you asking me to choose?”
“Am I an asshole if I do?” Steve asked, turning to look at you.
“No,” you shook your head, “am I an asshole if I tell you I can’t?”
“Why not?” He frowned. “Because you would choose him? Fuck-”
“I’m not saying that,” you interject, “but I’m also not saying that a part of me doesn’t want to know what this is between Eddie and I–that I don’t want to stop whatever it is we are. I really care about him, Steve, and I care about you too–how can I choose?”
“How can I just stand by and let my girlfriend be with someone else?” He shot back.
“I’d never ask you too,” you shook your head, “but I am asking you for time.”
“I won’t wait forever,” Steve shook his head, “I can’t.”
“I’m not asking you to,” you bit your lip, stepping closer and trying to take his hand only for him to pull away. “Steve….please.”
You looked up into his face, watching the turmoil play out across the familiar plains until a moment later he sighed:
“Okay. I’ll give you some time–I probably need some too anyways.”
Petals of hope bloomed in your chest and you found yourself smiling as you nodded in agreement, your hands finding his. This time, Steve didn’t pull away and instead he squeezed them in recognition as he leaned your foreheads together once more. Both your eyes slid close as you stood there in the kitchen, only for a moment forgetting the world outside of each other.
#˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑 :#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson x reader#steve harrington x reader#eddie munson x reader x steve harrington#eddie munson one shot#steve harrington one shot
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greywaren: an initial review
finished greywaren and i feel so flat??? like
that was a shit resolution
barely any plot points were tied up
the whole nial lynch redemption really pissed me off because the fact that niall loved declan all along shouldn't negate the way declan felt all these years and the fact all this was what it took for declan to go back loving this man what
ALSO MOR AND FENNIAN LIVING AT THE BARNS IN THE END mor wanted to kill ronan?????????? ike declan doesnt take offese to that IT ALL FEELS SO WRONG ////
MATTHEW???? MATHEWW MY BELOVED WAS ODNE DIRTY LIKE hes just WALKED BACK??? where's the complexity of mister impossible?????? where's the true conversations about being dreamt and the implications of that. we ahs that lovely scene in mister impossible where mathew is rightfully pissed because hes dreamt and lied to and in greywaren we had matthew pissed because of the whole sweetmetal thing BUT IT NEVER GETS TOUCHED ON AGAIN?????? AT ALLLLL????? like he goes with bryde and like roasts him and then falls asleep and then just WALKS BACK SKIPS TO 4 YEARS LATER????
also sick of the whole person/thing being dreamt used as a catch all plot device ITS EVERYWHERE it seems to really serve no purpose anymore like thematically EVERYONE IS DREAMT NOW I GUESS at least ronan didn't end up dreaming himself
there isnt the lingering effects of their actions the consequences of the past yknow
hennessy and ronan weren't responsible for the apocalyps - the only brown guy was who was built up to be a major villain at all and was like mentioned like a bit in the first book to establish a motivation for carmen farook lane liek??? the moderators did not deserve that much screentime kavinsky was more interesting than nathan
also i really hate epilogues with time skips that arent usually done well i would have prefered a couple of months late thing so we can see the work in progess happiness this feels too neat with a bow feels like something that would be a short story
JORDAN HENNESSY DESERVED MORE PAGE TIME
but like the carmen and hennessy stuff was great tho
tldr.:book was rushed , so many things were just magically fixed and restored and i would have preferred a harder slope, jordeclan wedding best bit Matthew deserved better , declan deserves better and honestly SO MID and disappointing gonna reread mister impossible to regain my sanity
#greywaren spoilers#greywaren#the dreamer trilogy#the dreamer trilogy book 3#tdt book 3#tdt#declan lynch#niall lynch#ronan lynch#matthew lynch#jordan hennessy#nathan farook lane#carmen farook lane#an initial review#ahoys reveiwz#book review#it was so flat I WANT MEAT#like how the golden enclaves tied up the trology and was a really good ending to the series and had meat#THIS#this did not#so glad i got the golden enclaves for my kris kringle#book tumblr#ya books#maggie steivater
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What the Bean's Day event means (part 2 - the Setsubun)
[header make by me with pngs from @/alchemivich here and background made by @AnxiAri on twitter. I felt like it would be better than using the low quality banner events lmao]
I actually started to write this in mid to end of March but now it's the best time to post it since EN Twst server is showing the Bean's Day part 2 (and now this is more relevant).
Well, as we saw in another post of mine, the Bean’s Day event (or Beanfest) reference-wise is based on a particular segment of a very old and underrated silly movie "Fun and Fancy Free" made by Disney in the late 40s and also in the famous fairytale. The whole thing about Jack and the Beanstalk, the golden harp, Happy Valley and all those other little things...
But, as mentioned by other people in the fandom and one at my post’s reblogs, the event is also inspired by a real Japanese festival called: Setsubun!
Setsubun (節分) is a traditional Japanese event, famously known for being the “festival for ward off the evil spirits that bring disaster and misfortune”. It’s mostly celebrated at home, but there’s temples that hold the festival as a public event.
I think I wasn’t part of the fandom when the part one of Bean’s Day event was held in the JP server but, when the EN server posted it in March, people were confused because Crewel stated that the event was made in February. That’s because the Setsubun takes place in February and if Bean’s Day is a homage to the festival, it’s obvious that it would be held in the same month in Twisted Wonderland world.
Why was it posted in March then? I legit don't know either
For the most part, the festival centers around the special ritual of “mamemaki” (“throwing soybeans”) that is held mostly at home with the family or at some temples.
The mamemaki is conducted by the Toshiotoko — someone of the family that has the Chinese zodiac sign of that year or the head of the family — and another family member is chosen to be the oni (the demon/evil spirit) that wears a monster mask and throw the roasted soybeans out of the residence. At the same time, the other family members chant “Oni wa soto! Fuku wa uchi! (鬼は外!福は内!)” (Demons/bad luck out! Luck for home!) [forgive me if it’s badly translated in english]
Something that really popped up to me when I was re-watching part of the beginning (I stopped actually lol), is Crewel’s explanation about the Beans Day in NRC. They did the tradition of throwing beans at the students designated as “monsters” but probably over the years, these students got pissed at it and they started to hit it back at the “farmers”...
Night Raven College, everybody! What did you expect?
Actually, if you let in consideration that this happened when Crewel was an student, my bets is that he was the mastermind behind it all on the monster team (I just don’t recall if it really was confirmed in the part2 or it’s just a personal hc that I’m taking way too seriously…).
It’s a very interesting twist in the tradition because it’s not supposed to the Oni attack back the family at the mamemaki (since it obviously ruins the purpose of the event) but it’s not impossible for the people chosen for this role to think this way.
I mean, if I was chosen to be a demon in any circumstance, I would be a little bit annoyed. I didn’t get to confirm if they really threw beans at the "demons" or just out of the house or both but… yeah, not a surprise that our problematic boys didn’t like it to be thrown things without retaliation.
Okay, so I was planning to make a entire post explaining all the rest of the festival but I just gave up on the idea because I found this very awesome blog that I based most part of this post on (and it feels more safe to simply share it with you): https://blog.japanwondertravel.com/what-is-setsubun-22094
The article is very informative and clean to read, I didn’t get confused with all the infos and details like other posts I saw while searching. The site is held by Japan Wonder Travel and they seem specialized in this kind of tour guide to know better about the Japanese traditions and places, working with local professional guides to a more authentic experience. So it’s a more in-detail explanation from a more native view, it seemed to me.
The Bean’s Day event takes references and homages from both the festival in Japan and the segment “Mickey and the Beanstalk” (which is a retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk), mixing both in something very unique and fun. It was interesting to know about these two perspectives because it adds something more to the event.
It isn’t simply a story. Something that someone randomly thought and decided to write a story to make another card event. Much like other twst events, it has a heavy base of knowledge in which it was inspired. It’s not “out of nowhere” and I deeply admire that.
Not only that, the way they create these stories and fulfill us with more lore content because it’s a wide fantasy world with different places, perspectives and characters. Maybe it’s a need of my own but I cherish all those little details. I don’t know how to explain why, I just feel this way.
But yeah, hope you like reading more about setsubun! Go check out!
#twisted wonderland#twst beans day#twst beanfest#twst event#setsubun festival#azul ashengrotto#jack howl#rook hunt#jamil viper#jade leech#cater diamond#floyd leech#vil schoenheit#cherry's mumbling about twst
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All The Colors We Cannot See {Bakugou x Reader}
Synopsis: He sees you in the colors that light the sky, and longs for you in the darkness that follows.
Pairing: Pro Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x fem! reader
Warnings: attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, language
Word Count: 4k+
A/N: This took me like 9 months to complete, but it’s finally here. I didn’t completely stick to the request, but this is what came out. I still hope you like it! Banner made by my amazingly talented friend, go follow her @jm.rvice on instagram! 💖
💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥
Blood pumps to his legs. Cement pounds his feet. Bits of rubble catch in his boots. The first spark of the night shoots up- swallowed whole by the black sky. A trail of embers remains in its wake.
Katsuki stops. And waits.
A second passes- the crowd silent in anticipation. No one can see the spark, but everyone knows it’s there… waiting… for the right time to explode. And just when the darkness thinks it has won, an enormous burst of light blankets the sky. In that moment, it’s so bright that Katsuki can see the skyline. Like paint splattered on a blank canvas, the sky now bleeds in red, and the explosion leaves an imprint the size of a supernova long after it’s gone.
The crowd applauds.
A roar is ripped from Katsuki’s throat. He pounds at the brick wall again and again, despite blood trickling down his fists. He rips his cochlear and smashes it against the wall. A sick satisfaction settles within him. The ringing that greets him is like a devil sucking on the lobe, whispering tempestuous nothings into his ear.
Katsuki continues his ascent, taking steps by three until he reaches the top. The poor door is yanked off its hinges, but it doesn’t even cross Katsuki’s mind as he’s hit by everything all at once. Smoke slithers down his throat, roasted yakitori wafts up his nose, the rhythmic booms caress his ear, and the lavender shaded sky comforts his eyes. From up here, the people below remind Katsuki of the dots he used to see after he ignited a big explosion- how the dots blur, mix, and separate in one fluid motion again and again.
His phone ringing is a distant echo. They’re looking for him no doubt, but who the hell cares. Not like they’d find him up here. This was yours and Katsuki’s place.
-------------------------------------------------------
He’d blow himself up if he missed even a second.
His lungs burned. They ached for a clean breath, yet inhaled the stench of nitroglycerin-like sweat. He could’ve just blasted himself to the top and saved himself the trouble, but fuck. That. Katsuki thrived on a challenge. He loved the rush of adrenaline more than his own mother. (He’d never tell her that- she’d kill him before he reached this goddamn roof.)
He threw himself against the door in time to see the first burst of citrine hit the sky. But he also saw you, a trespasser, standing on the ledge and looking like you were about to kill yourself. You didn’t flinch at the sonic boom (like most people) nor cringe at the heat. It was like you thought the beauty outweighed its destruction.
All that said you were fucking stupid.
“Oi! Get down from there!”
You were immersed in skylight, and though your back was turned, Katsuki knew you were staring up in awe; your eyes reminiscent of glassy pools reflecting red, yellow, blue and all the possibilities they create.
“Fuckin’ hell…” Katsuki muttered. He just wanted to enjoy the show in his spot. Alone. Like he did every year. “Oi, lady! You wanna kill yourself? Do it on some other roof dammit!”
You jumped at the blasted words, losing your balance and falling off the ledge. Katsuki expected you to scream, to gasp, to cry... anything but fucking wink on your way down like playing with death is just some fucking game. But Katsuki had no time to think before he blasted himself across the roof to grab your hand- but you didn’t need it. You threw a safety line in mid-air, hooked it to the ledge with skillful precision, and used the leverage to hurl yourself back up. You landed on the ledge like a ballerina tip-toeing on a tightrope. The sheer turn of events rendered Katsuki speechless.
“Phew! That was fun! Let’s do it again sometime, yeah?” You wrapped the safety chord before bouncing up to Katsuki.
The fuck?
How did you…?
You didn’t seem to notice Katsuki’s loss for words.
“I’ve never met someone with a quirk like yours. You could put on your very own firework show!”
You tried grabbing his hand, but Katsuki’s growl stopped you. The flickers popping in his hands were a sign to back the fuck off.
You’re scared. Good, Katsuki thought.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m a bit of a pyro.” You sheepishly smiled, twirling a pink and yellow band around your finger. (You’d later twirl your wedding ring the same way.)
Katsuki’s growl cut in its tracks. You weren’t scared like he thought, in fact, you looked lost in his sparks- your eyes zooming back and forth, trying to catch each and every one. Katsuki killed his sparks, causing you to look up at him in disappointment.
“I can’t. Mine don’t change color,” he muttered.
Fireworks always fascinated Katsuki. As a child, he wished his explosions could change color. He imagined people looking up in awe when his sparks rained down. They’d recognize the power and the beauty.
“Hmm…color is what makes a firework...” you trailed off.
“No shit,” Katsuki snorted. How stupid are you?
“Hold out your hands.”
Katsuki crossed his arms, “No.”
“Oh, c’mon! Gimme your hands!” You bounced up and down, overcome with excitement. Katsuki stepped back but immediately stopped himself because Bakugou Katsuki never backs down.
“I’m not giving you anything, woman. You’re fuckin’ weird for jumpin’ off roofs and asking for stranger’s hands. Stay the fuck away from me. In fact, this is my fuckin’ roof. Find your own.” Katsuki looked down to see his hands popping. It must’ve happened on instinct- a defense mechanism to scare off the extras who won’t leave him the fuck alone.
Except it didn’t work on you. You only came closer.
“Do you want to burn in color or not?”
Katsuki saw flashes of himself in your eyes everytime a firework went off. A hunger burned in the pit of his stomach- one he’s felt countless times during battle, but this one was different. This strange warmth made him feel like jumping off the roof himself, and if he put all his might into it, he could brush the spark of a firework from fifty feet above.
“Yes,” he said.
“Then you’re gonna have to trust me.”
“Trust you!?” Katsuki shook his head, “I don’t even know you!”
“That’s half the fun, isn’t it?” You giggled, “Now hold still.”
Katsuki grumbled how ridiculous this was, and that whatever you tried wouldn’t work, but you ignored him in favor of pulling his hands and laying them face up. You nodded and Katsuki sighed, activating his quirk anyway because what the hell.
You’re entranced from the moment flickers popped, one by one, in his hands. They died as quickly as they were born, but still left their mark in the air.
Katsuki’s sparks faltered as cool fingertips brushed against his wrist.
“It’s okay, keep going,” you encourage, and he does.
He can’t pinpoint exactly when the change happened. Like all change, he blinked and suddenly his sparks burned in color. Angry red, rooted in tormented crimson, ravished the usual, boring, orange of his sparks.
Katsuki laughed in disbelief because how is this real? Yellow began to flicker in and out of the red, until it finally caught like a flame and engulfed the red like a warm blanket. Pink and light green began to swirl around the yellow, and the firework show Katsuki had been looking forward to all year didn’t hold a candle to the fireworks fluttering in the palms of his hands.
Katsuki looked up at you.
Who the fuck are you?
You giggled at his awed expression, “Our very own firework show.”
And that’s how you spent the rest of the night. His hands in yours while he burned in color for the first time.
Katsuki later discovered you could read emotions through auras. The aura becomes visible, allowing you to color a person’s quirk.
He also discovered that you didn’t need to hold his hand for it to work.
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A round of fireworks triggers the ringing in Katsuki’s ear. He throws his head back in ecstasy and prays the sensation tickles his eardrum for a little longer- enough to shut the part of his brain that keeps remembering you.
Katsuki pulls the pistol out. The leather grip, so slick with sweat, that Katsuki has to wipe his hand to make sure he doesn’t accidentally set off his quirk.
He’s not an amateur. He’s held a gun before. Every pro-hero has to undergo weapons training, but he’s never used one in combat. His quirk was always more than enough. But there’s something inherently dangerous about a gun. His quirk is an extension of himself, but a gun is a separate entity altogether- and it was designed to kill.
Growing up, adults would praise Katsuki for his quirk. They’d say, “With a quirk like that, you’re destined to become a hero!” But they were still afraid to get too close. They saw his quirk as a weapon that was designed to destroy. And soon enough, Katsuki became the embodiment of just that. But he always felt incomplete. He wanted to be a hero like All Might. One that people looked up to- in awe of their power, not in fear of it.
That’s why he loved fireworks. The only explosion that makes people stop and stare, instead of running away, in fear for their lives.
You were the first and only person to see the beauty in his quirk.
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“What’s your favorite color?”
Such a basic question that Katsuki should already have the answer to. But color meant so much more to you. You saw the world in a way that made everyone else seem colorblind.
You twirled that same pink and yellow band around your finger as Katsuki twirled the ring in his pocket. You leaned in closer, basking in the warmth radiating from Katsuki. He watched how your eyes never left the sky, and he was content with missing the show if it meant he can watch you instead. He caught glimpses of you only when lit by a firework. He made sure not to blink during those moments else he’d miss you. Your expressions mixed and swirled as the fireworks continued, but you never lost the primary color of mesmerization painting your face.
“Blue,” you said. Katsuki had to lean in to listen; your voice an ember in a sea of fire. “But not sky blue like on a sunny day. It’s nice, but I much prefer the darker washes of blue, deep like sapphire.”
Blue, the color of sadness.
“Why blue?” Katsuki asked. The ring in his pocket danced between his fingers.
You turned back to the fireworks. You always made sure to think before you speak when answering a question that mattered.
“Because there’s always an interesting story behind an aura of such sorrow, more importantly, there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel.”
“So your favorite color isn’t blue, it’s yellow,” Katsuki cut in, but you shook your head.
“There’s nowhere to go but down with yellow. Yellow is the epitome of brightness and joy, and when you crash during the high, you crash hard. But when you’re drowning in deep blue, as I’ve seen many people do, you’re at the lowest of lows- you really can’t get any lower in this life. But when an aura- and I’ve only seen this once- when an aura changes from the deepest of sapphire to sunrise yellow- well it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
The twirling of the ring in his pocket stopped.
“That is why I believe blue is the true color of hope,” you whispered.
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Katsuki should feel the smooth texture of leather as he grips the gun in his hand. He should feel the weight of the gun as he brings it to his temple. But he’s numb to it all. It’s like an invisible string, pulling at his muscles, directing his body how to move. His mind goes blank for the first time, and all the inner-turmoil he’s been unable to escape just straight up… stops. It’s like he’s floating in a body of water with no current. Complete and utter stillness.
It scares the fuck outta him, but it feels good.
As he’s about to turn the safety off, his phone rings again, snapping him back to reality. Katsuki guts his phone.
“Die!”
The phone slides down the door like a dead pidgeon.
“God-fuckin’-damn it...” He pushes the barrel back to his temple, craving that mind-numbing stillness once more. Anything to stop the feelings that just won’t seem to go away.
The fireworks crescendo as the show reaches its climax. The colors begin to mix and blur together so much that it becomes too convoluted to look at. An infinite regress of color swirling in Katsuki’s mind.
-------------------------------------------------------
You glowed on purpose so Katsuki could find you. He spotted you from miles away, like a beacon of light in the middle of a storm. The melancholic blue of your aura contrasted against the raging reds that painted the sky.
Katsuki ran. He pushed and pushed past his limit, harder than any battle he’s fought in. He could’ve made it if he used his quirk, but he was in a crowded marketplace with too many people. He ripped off his gauntlets and threw them in a random alley. He immediately gained speed. A couple more feet and one minute left.
He should’ve saved his breath. If he did, he would’ve caught you in time. But he had to make sure you knew he was there. You looked down at the sound of your name. He could barely make out your face, but you saw him. He knew you saw him because your aura changed from that melancholic blue to sunrise yellow in an instant. Everyone around him gasped at the flood of light emanating from above.
You were right. It was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
If Katsuki produced a strong enough blast, he could make his way to the top and get you out before the bomb went off. At this point, he didn’t care who else might get hurt in the process. Next to him, Kirishima knew what Katsuki was thinking. He hardened himself to block Katsuki’s takeoff.
“Don’t do it, bro.”
“Get outta my way.”
“You can’t make it.”
“Yes I can.”
“You’ll both die.”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP” Katsuki pushed him away, and prepared to blast himself, when two other heroes stepped in to hold him down, but no one stood a chance when Katsuki goes feral. Explosions erupted, not enough to seriously hurt, but enough to get people to back the fuck off. Even Kirishima (whose quirk is to literally be a human barricade) was having trouble blocking Katsuki. One more blast was enough to send Kirishima back and Katsuki used that half a second to blast off. But suddenly he couldn’t. He tried and he tried, but his quirk refused to work. A growl escaped from low in his throat as he whipped his head around, trying to find the cause to his problem so he could decimate it.
Target acquired.
Katsuki was about to march right up to his high school homeroom teacher and deck him right in his fuckin’ face, but before he could, he was held down once again.
He couldn’t fight three pro-heroes off without his quirk. He couldn’t get to you without his quirk. All Katsuki could do was look up and watch you die.
Five seconds left.
He saw it in your face. The moment you realized he wouldn’t be able to save you. The yellow of your aura growing dimmer and dimmer.
Three.
You smiled through your tears.
Two.
And winked.
One.
Then closed your eyes as you took your last breath.
The darkness that followed was unbearable.
A cacophonous wail erupted from Katsuki’s throat- loud enough to go up against any explosion. He couldn’t help but fall to his knees, unable to hold himself up any longer. He still wasn’t able to use his quirk and that only frustrated him more.
He’d never felt so helpless in his life.
-------------------------------------------------------
He hardly uses his quirk anymore because he sees you in the sparks. He’s got no drive to be Number 1 if you’re not here to watch him do it. His will to live is gone without you and that scares the fuck outta him. He hates you for filling his head with ridiculous bullshit. He hates you for opening his mind to the possibility of love, and hope, and shit that shouldn’t matter but it fuckin’ does for some goddamn reason. He hates you. He hates you. He hates you.
That same cacophonous wail erupts from his very core. The gun falls from his hands, to the ground. It could’ve gone off at that moment and Katsuki would never know.
His focus zeroes on his hands. How tense they get when he flexes them, how the vein protrudes from his wrist, and how his glands secrete sweat from his palms. He points them to the sky, and a familiar rush of power, that he hasn’t felt in months, surges through him. His blood boils from under his skin and he’s literally shaking from the intensity. Like a volcano spewing hot-blooded lava after an eternity of dormancy, he shoots blinding white heat into the black night.
The color from the fireworks surround his explosions as if they’re echoing his sentiment. Hot red dominates the sky- reminding Katsuki of the sky that night. This causes Katsuki to rattle off explosions quicker, setting off one after another in a staccato rhythm. The crimson sky ravishes all other color.
If only he saved his breath. If only he’d taken off his gauntlets sooner. If only he ran a little faster. If only he blasted himself a second earlier. If only he didn’t stay back at work that day. If only he turned right instead of left at that goddamn intersection. If only he picked up the ingredients for your favorite meal the day before so he could go straight home. If only he didn’t have to drive back to the market because he fuckin’ forgot the milk again. If only he decided it was still worth it to pick you up from work early like he planned. If only he cared more about your anniversary than about cracking Top 10. If only he went to more of your art shows instead of taking extra patrols. If only he went on that trip to New York with you instead of cancelling last minute because the agency needed him. If only he realized that you meant more to him than being Number 1 before it was too late.
Little by little the crimson wash is buried by the black night and Katsuki’s eyes hurt just staring into the black abyss. It’s suffocating him, weighing his chest down and making it hard to breathe. It’s enough to drop him to his knees, just like he did that night.
You and Katsuki had long talks about your future plans. How you fit into his life, and how he fit into yours. When you’d be able to properly settle down and have kids. You accepted that the first couple years into his career would be the toughest on your marriage. Katsuki would spend more time at the agency than at home with you. Relationships with pro-heroes were like that. But you respected his ambitions. You understood the amount of time that was required to fulfill those ambitions. You never held it over him, never guilted him into spending more time with you, and never made him choose between you or his career. You loved him enough to share him with the rest of the world. You were never each other’s other halves. Instead, you co-existed as separate individuals who made the best team Katsuki’s ever been a part of.
Yellow begins to flicker in and out, but it’s muted behind the black veil of regret. The more Katsuki thinks of your empathy and your love, the stronger the yellow becomes. It finally brightens the black sky, to the point that Katsuki almost has to cover his eyes because it’s like looking into the sun in the middle of the day.
And that’s when it clicks.
He’s burning in color.
You must be conducting this masterpiece from above, using the sky as your canvas and coloring the emotions coming from within him.
He kills his explosions as quickly as he fired them. The fireworks come to an end at the same time. The crowd’s cheers is a fly on the wall to Katsuki.
He falls back, lying flat on the ground and looking up at the sky still shaded in yellow. His chest heaves as he tries to get his breathing back to normal, and the sloppy mixture of sweat and tears continue to slide down his face. The cool breeze is a blessing against the nape of his neck.
He struggles to hold his hands up, they shake as he brings them up to his face. He reignites his quirk with the last bit of strength. The sparks lack their usual vigor as they flutter lazily in his palms. They remind him of fireflies swirling in a jar. For once, the orange doesn’t piss him off.
Has anyone else seen his quirk like this? When he’s not trying to intimidate or take down a villain? The only person he could think of was you. Maybe his quirk wouldn’t be seen as a weapon, maybe he wouldn’t be seen as a villain, if the world saw what he’s seeing right now.
Katsuki sits in this revelation, and the calm that washes over him is nothing like the numbness from before. He’s far from being okay, and he still longs for you in these moments, but Katsuki has a hunch that if you were here right now - holding his hands in yours- his sparks would be burning in your favorite color. And he’s okay with that.
“That is why I believe blue is the true color of hope.”
Katsuki’s phone goes off even in its broken state. His eyes dart between the phone and the gun. He groans as he gets up. His limbs, heavy, after exerting himself. He picks up his phone.
“Hey. Yeah, man, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”
Katsuki’s about to hang up when he takes a look at the gun. A reminder of what he was about to do. A decision he could never come back from.
If things turned out different, he would not be here right now.
Just the thought is enough to make Katsuki slide down the wall. He takes a deep breath- his heart beating rapidly at what he’s about to admit aloud for the first time.
“Actually, I’m not okay. I need you to come get me.”
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The Plus Ultra Chronicle
Musutafu Tower Attack: 06/18/2020
WHEN HOPE PREVAILS:
A DAY OF REMEMBRANCE
By: Yamamoto Ichika
06/18/2021
Today marks the one year anniversary of the 2020 Musutafu Tower Attack. Hundreds gathered this morning in remembrance of the lives lost that night. Several people who’ve lost loved ones in the attack have already come forward with statements.
Of those people, Number 7 Hero, Dynamight, has chosen to sit down with The Plus Ultra Chronicle for an all-exclusive interview. His late wife, Bakugou Y/N, was among the citizens that were held hostage that night. After taking a year sabbatical, he has decided to return to the field of pro-hero work. Here is a snippet of that interview; you can find the full interview here.
“Thank you, Dynamight, for sitting down with us. It is truly an honor. The people want to know- what are your thoughts on what occurred that night? Can you take us through what happened?”
“It was hard on us all. Whether you were at home watching on a screen or out there in person. All of us heroes felt like sh*t- unable to do anything. It’s even worse when you had a personal attachment to a victim like I did.”
“It must’ve been difficult as a hero- having to make quick decisions that forced you to separate your personal life from the objectivity of the situation.”
“If I’m being honest, I couldn’t, and it took a toll on me.”
“Is that why you took the sabbatical?”
“Yes. I constantly questioned the validity of my title. Whether or not I deserved to be called a ‘hero’ if I couldn’t save the one person I vowed to always protect.”
“You’ll be returning to the field next month, and with a new addition to your hero costume. An amulet of what looks to be a blue-colored spark attached to the left side of your chest. It stands out against the black, orange, and green of your costume. What is the meaning of this?”
“When I was at my lowest, my failures were all I could see. But someone once told me that you can’t get any lower when you’re at that point. The only real change you can make is to acknowledge and move forward.”
“A symbol of hope is definitely something we all need right now. What made you decide to finally give an official statement?”
“It is my responsibility to protect the citizens of Japan so this never happens again. But I also think it is important for people to see the shortcomings of the heroes they look up to. We’re human too. We f*ck up. I used to think that made someone weak. Now, I see it as part of the journey. The testament of a true hero.”
#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou angst#bnha#bnha fanfic#bnha imagine#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki angst#katsuki bakugou angst#bakugou imagine#bakugou katsuki scenarios#bnha angst#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugou#mha x reader#mha imagines#mha fanfic#mha angst#bakugou x y/n#katsuki bakugo fanfiction#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo oneshot#katsuki bakugo scenario#katsuki bakugo fic#bakugou x you#tw: suicide#tw: suicidal thoughts#tw: attempted suicide
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hugs + inarizaki
headcanons for the miya twins, ojiro, kita, and suna
a peace offering because i absolutely will not be active for this week and the next uwu ❤️
miya atsumu
Being playful and teasing, Atsumu loves giving you surprise hugs. Whether if it’s behind the back tackles or just picking you up and swinging you around like it’s nothing, nothing gives this man more joy than making you yelp and squeal.
Hugs with Atsumu are lively and almost never a quiet and boring time. Whenever he comes home from a work-out or practice sweating bullets, he’ll find you and scoop you into his arms all while you’re squealing and protesting. He secretly uses this as an excuse to get you in the bath with him after.
“You’re getting your sweat all over me-”
“I guess we both have to shower now. Damn, that sucks.”
On the weekends when Atsumu can sleep in, he likes to keep you in bed with him for a painfully long time. He knows you’re awake, and so is he, but nothing makes him happier than clinging onto your middle as you’re squirming to go to the bathroom.
Sometimes when he notices that you’ve had a bad day, his hands will wander to your sides mid-hug, and he’ll tickle you until your giggles fill the room.
He’ll never end the day without a proper cuddle, though. He likes having you in his arms while he’s watching plays or a TV show with you resting your head on his shoulder or chest. Once in a while, he’ll lean down to give you a few kisses on the cheek, but the moment you return the favor, he’s instantly distracted and turns whatever he’s watching off.
miya osamu
He’ll never express it to you directly, but Osamu’s heart flutters every time you hug him from the back while he’s cooking, especially during slow mornings where neither of you are in a rush to go anywhere. Just slip your arms around his waist while he’s scrambling eggs, and you’ve won his entire being over.
He finds it endearing if you don’t let go as he moves around the kitchen, just waddling behind him and trying to follow. Oftentimes, he’ll feel playful about this and tries to move around quickly to see if you can keep up. His soft chuckle gives him away though.
This works in reverse too if you happen to be the one that’s cooking. He’ll rest his chin on your shoulder to peek at what you’re doing. Humor him by acting confused, so that he’ll reach over and help you. He knows you’re joking, but he’s still more than eager to cook with you, since it’s really the best of two worlds for him.
Unlike his brother, his hugs are very much calm and relaxed. He’s the type to hug just for the sake of hugging and for physical contact rather than teasing you for the most part. When the two of you are in bed together, he likes wrapping his arms around your waist with your back pressed into his chest. There’s something about smelling your hair that’s so calm to him. Plus, it’s easier to whisper into your ear like that.
He knows it’s unhealthy, but Osamu lives for midnight snack sessions with you. There’s something so therapeutic about you feeding him chips in his lap with his arms tightly around your waist. If he he’s having a bad day, this is a sure-fire way to cheer him up.
ojiro aran
Aran’s the type who sees hugs as a type of liberation, but even though he likes giving and receiving them a lot, he’ll always ask for permission first. No matter how long the two of you have been together, he needs the affirmation that you’re comfortable with him touching you before doing anything at all.
He’s also scared that he might come off as too clingy when he’s hugging you for a while, but if you continue stay in his arms even after his grip has loosened, it makes him feel so warm and appreciative of your affection.
He’s not the type of person to enjoy messing around given his exasperation whenever either of the Miya twins open their mouths, so cuddling time is soft and peaceful. He’ll ask you about your day always before talking about his own, but he’s not against complete silence either. He likes listening to you breathe, and if you end up falling asleep, he’s over the moon. Seeing that you can become comfortable and relaxed around him to the point of just dozing off is literally his favorite sight.
Despite enjoying peaceful moments, he’s not entirely opposed to banter, especially if you incorporate things you’ve memorized about him into it. For example, if you end up teasing him about how his favorite food is Ritz Crackers, he’s not focused on your teasing but rather the fact that you bothered to remember his favorite food.
He’s a little bit of a hoarder too, so cuddling sessions are warm and comfy. He has a multitude of blankets and pillows in his home that he should’ve tossed out ages ago, but if you happen to like them, he’ll wash them properly and put them to proper use. He’s comfortable whenever you’re around, but he wants to guarantee that you feel the same way too.
kita shinsuke
Kita is a man of habit and routine; therefore, he’s up at dawn right when the sun rises and back home from work when the sun sets completely. During both these times, he also has a few minutes scheduled in for a ‘good bye’ hug and kiss and a ‘welcome home’ hug and kiss from you. His day doesn’t start until he gets to wrap his arms around you for a brief moment, and his day of work never feels like it has ended until you greet him at the door with your arms open. It’s like clockwork.
He’s always very busy, even during the weekends, but he always keeps a close eye on you to see how you’re holding up. Like Aran, he always asks for permission before hugging you, and during the rare instances where he does have some free time, he likes to indulge a little bit longer in your embrace.
Kita’s ideal type of date night is cooking a hearty meal with you and then having you sit in his arms outside while enjoying the brisk night air. He likes it when you run your fingers through his hair, but he even likes it more when you let him press soft kisses all over your hand and face. He says he does only does what he has to do, but for you, he’s willing to go the extra miles to keep you happy. He’s very much an overachiever when it comes to your affections and you.
He’s not really sure why he finds your hugs and hugging you so addictive. Sometimes, under the blazing heat of the sun, he thinks about how it’d be so much better if the two of you were in each other’s arms inside the house even though he’s sweating bullets, and he finds the idea ridiculously amusing. He thinks it might be because of the hugs his grandma gave him as a child and how he always felt safe and content in her arms. He wants to give you the very best, and in his mind, a safe haven where you can smile and relax completely is the best he can offer.
suna rintarou
Like Atsumu, Rintarou’s very much a tease, but he’s sly and more consistent about it. Rather than being energetic about it, Suna’s all about lazy hugs. Whenever it’s late at night, he’ll casually pull you into his arms and bury his head into your neck, and if he isn’t too tired, he’ll breathe the lightest breaths against your ear just to tickle you.
He enjoys doing the smallest things just to fluster you, so if you feel his hands start to wander very, very slowly, it’s probably him waiting for a reaction from you. He’ll stop and sigh if you don’t give him a reaction, and he’ll probably pout in your arms for a while before thinking of some other way to provoke you.
His signature hug is lazily putting his arms over your shoulders or around your middle with his head resting on the top of your head or on your shoulders. He does this honestly whenever, especially when the two of you are home, and you’re just walking around.
He never expresses it verbally, but this is his way of expressing that he’s feeling a little needy, neglected, or touch-starved. Doing it once or twice briefly is just him trying to make doing laundry a harder time for you, but if he continues to let you drag him around the house, take a quick break to give him kisses. He’ll act as if he never asked for them, but he just likes being spoiled.
That doesn’t mean that he never gives though! He’s a man who empathizes with those who feel exhausted after being annoyed by others, so if you come home all gloomy and depressed, he’ll have you lie down with him either on the couch or on the bed with on arm stroking your head and the other rubbing circles on your back. He’ll proceed to let you vent and will roast whoever gave you a hard time into oblivion.
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#inarizaki#inarizaki x reader#miya twins#miya atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader#miya osamu#miya osamu x reader#osamu x reader#ojiro aran#ojiro aran x reader#aran x reader#kita shinsuke#kita shinsuke x reader#kita x reader#suna rintarou#suna rintarou x reader#suna x reader#haikyuu headcanons
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The Rabbit Hole
Summary: The Windy City in the mid-1920s is a spectacle of lights and sounds, roaring with the excitement of jazz music and swinging dance moves. Amid the brilliant stars of Chicago nightlife, there is a dark underground of secrets, mainly that being the mysterious Wonderland Ball you've been invited to participate in and be crowned the next "Alice". What you don't know is you may or may not be allowed to leave, per the Mad Hatter and a White Rabbit's desires. So, daring and brave as you are, you decide to take a journey down The Rabbit Hole and come face to face with high society - people - as you've never seen them before.
Genre: Yandere; Historical Fiction/ Fantasy Based In The 1920′s; Smut; Thriller; Alice in Wonderland Inspired
Warnings: Yandere themes, Mentions of drug/ alcohol use with/without consent, mentions of “gangsters”, light talks of selling your soul/ the devil/ religious “themes”?, sedative drugs used non-consensually, vivid dreams/nightmares, maybe light profanity? Smut: Non-protected sex (twice), creampies, oral sex (f and m receiving/giving), slight nipple play?, spanking, marking, bruising, slightly rough sex, use of a sex swing/ sex swing intercourse, f and m orgasms. I think that’s it.
Pairings: Jeon Jungkook (White Rabbit) x Reader (Alice) x Kim Seokjin (Mad Hatter), Side Pairing of Johnny (Jonathan) Suh from NCT x Reader, Johnny x Jung Jaehyun from NCT.
Author’s Notes: This is not going to be a historically accurate piece. As much as I am an advocate for research and learning about the times of old, I am only human and I am short on time researching in between my full time job. I have grown up and currently live in Chicago and I have never written a story about the Windy City before so here I am, writing to you about the wonderful city I call home. I am doing my best to stay true to my writing as well as make it as accurate as one can, but please forgive me if there are faults in this story!
We are not doing a collective Valentine’s Day event this year but the contents of this piece have been weighing heavily on my mind, so I asked if I could write this story for a little something-something. I hope you all enjoy it!
Written By: Admin 💖 @therealmintedmango
Also, who do you think the other boys from BTS are from Alice in Wonderland in this story? I’d love to know!
Stepping out of my very own vehicle my future husband’s family sent for me, I take in the sights and the sounds that Chicago provides this snowy afternoon.
People waltz around one another and mingle about, snow crunching under their feet. The faint sounds of jingle bells float down the streets in the chilly air, it smells of popcorn and roasted nuts as well as the sludge of gasoline tainting the snow. A cold breeze gliding across the buildings nearly knocks me off my feet as I look up to my new place of residence, a new high-rise Michigan Ave. The stars above my head seem to sparkle in the dark sky, or are those just the electric lights from the grand buildings surrounding me?
Curious, I think as I continue to have my sights set above the horizon. I’ve certainly strayed very far from the corn fields of back home. Inhaling the sharp, bitterly cold air around me, I feel a sense of dread almost wash over my senses. I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. Jonathan and I discussed it in great detail over the wire.
The reality of the situation is finally sinking into my layers of clothing.
Jonathan Suh, the grandson of Suh Realtor Industries Incorporated - which owns about one third of Chicago - has asked me to marry him. It was seemingly out of the blue too. I was going to spend the next years of my life trying to marry into the best livestock or vegetable farmer in town, not the filthy rich grandson in a large city. It felt like a dream when he called me and begged me to come as soon as possible. I suppose it pays off to be kind to everyone, especially when it felt like it was yesterday we were both in grammar school together.
I drink it all in, the busy sounds, the cold night air that leaves me feeling bitter and raw standing in the street while snow begins to descend from the blackened sky. It feels foreign to me even though it’s only about two hours away from the farm. The breeze blistering in from the west sends a chill up my spine.
This is a new beginning, I ponder to myself as I stretch upwards in the middle of the sidewalk. This is my chance at a better life, this is way better than being some poor, sad farm girl. That’s right! I’m going to be the wife of my childhood friend who just happened to be some rich playboy who has more money than he knows what to do with.
I’m going to be a Suh!
...Even if the whole arrangement is a sham...
“Miss, you are going to freeze to death outside!” Jonathan’s maids rush to usher me out of the cold quickly, but not before I accidentally bump into someone on the busy sidewalk.
“I beg you to pardon me,” I mumble as I set my sights over my shoulder on a man dressed in a long coat with hair as white as the snow currently blanketing the ground. “You’ll have to forgive me, I am just enraptured with how bright Chicago seems to shine at night.”
The man’s seemingly red eyes expand with my excitement, then soften. “No pardon to beg, Miss…?” He queries, a bloom of warmth spreading across his face.
“Suh.” I smile as the men shout from my car they have finished unpacking. “Well, I am the future Mrs. Jonathan Suh. For now I suppose I am still Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Strange, I didn’t think he… Well, never mind that now.” His eyes linger on mine. “Johnny’s got good taste.” I hear him mumble under his breath in a deep tone, slurring his words together in a string. “Well, I can’t wait to see more of you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.” He says as he swings his coat behind himself and takes off down the street, the crowd and the night dissolving him like a pill in warm water.
Curious and curiouser this night becomes, I think as the maids finally have enough of me standing about in the cold.
“Do you know who that was?” I ask the hoard of them, hoping someone has the answer to my bump in the night with a rather odd fellow. My heart is beating but I’m not sure what for. I know my place. I know why he called me… My fate was sealed as soon as I got the wire from my future husband.
The collective flock shake their heads and mutter polite “noes” as they lead me up grand staircases of marble and through dim corridors at this time of night, leaving my brain a drifting piece of snow in the blizzard that will surely accumulate outside overnight.
“Right this way.” A young redhead coos as she parades me up what must be my twentieth flight of stairs I’ve climbed this evening. “Master Suh will be so happy you are here at last!” They lead me into a beautiful room with the most lavish furniture I’ve ever seen in my life! Magazines and pictures certainly don’t bestow such fine items with quite the same honor as seeing such beauty in person.
“Madam Suh has a full schedule for you this weekend.” One of the elderly looking women dares to swoon as she says, “Wedding planning, I’m sure, no doubt.” My coat is taken from me and I am given house slippers to wear.
The flock - or really I should call them a herd of lemmings - all agree once more as a butler leads us through a hallway with objects of fine art, pottery, and paintings. Each item is so uniquely wonderful that it would make my brothers’ and sisters’ heads spin if they saw how perfect and polished everything is. How ornate and lavish! Am I to spend my life with fine, intricate pieces of art from all mediums? I wonder if Jonathan has created any of these himself? Would he allow me to paint? I wonder...
“Master Suh,” I inhale, realizing I am right at the threshold of a beautiful oak door. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N has arrived.” The butler announces.
My body feels all fuzzy and nervous for some reason. It’s been many years since I’ve seen my dear friend from when we were still learning how to hop on a bicycle in the country where his family had a small house and property that butted up against my family’s by the little lake in the middle of a corn field.
“Y/N!” A deep, refreshing voice purrs before he embraces me in a tight hug. “How was your ride? Did the car fair well, unlike the weather?” He chuckles as his tall frame dwarfs mine in comparison. The scent of him is most definitely cinnamon, scotch, and leather, which I’m not surprised. All fine things to smell of for certain.
The maids all giggle and mumble their approval and the butlers look away, anxious to gaze upon a woman in another man’s arms. I suppose his gesture of a greeting is very rude, but I don’t mind. Being smack-dab in the middle of my siblings, I feel like nothing phases me anymore, even the hug Jonathan wraps around me.
“Jonathan Suh,” I simper, pulling out of his embrace, “The ride was not too terrible, and my, how tall you’ve grown! And so dapper too.” I sigh earnestly. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“I hope you say that every day you wake up and I am there beside you.” Jonathan’s brown eyes seem to daze in the glow from the lamp lights in the sitting parlor.
There’s nothing more I hate than an arrogant flirt, not to mention an arrogant flirt with money is all the more trouble. Is this really going to be the rest of my life? Living with Jonathan like this? So contrived and fake… it makes my insides twist.
“I am rather weary though from a day full of travels.” I pretend to yawn, shifting out of his arms bit by bit and heading toward the door. “May I have the delight in seeing you tomorrow?”
“Oh yes, you must be quite tired. I always get sleepy on car rides.’ Jonathan muses as he extends his hand to the door and the staff scramble into place. “Mr. and Mrs. Alan would you please escort Y/N to her room? I will be here but on the other end of the house until we are...you know-”
“Goodnight, Jonathan.” I say almost too quickly after that, leaving almost as swiftly as I’ve come.
Once my hair is down and I am dressed comfortably in my nightgown, I feel like I can take a deep breath again. It feels odd with my hair unpinned, sitting in a brand-new nightgown, overlooking the rocking waves of the lake and the snow that drifts down from the sky. Basking in the sill of my window from the beautiful lights and moonlight shining through my velvet curtains, I hope and pray that every night I spend in Chicago is not as forced and fake as this one has been.
-
I’m chasing something odd in my dream.
I move between pictures hanging on the walls, through the bellies of grandfather clocks, I emerge through the darkness every time, chasing a little white rabbit with a cottontail through or around objects of grand design. I have never had a dream that felt so vivid and real, like I am actually flying through my thoughts, time of the utmost essence for some unknown reason. I can’t seem to escape a dark feeling looming around me and I feel slightly frightened that I will not catch the little thing.
When I reach for the little dumpling covered in pretty white fur, it lurches forward, propelling my desire to catch up to the little beast.
I descend deeper and deeper, the spotlight in the darkness focused solely on the bunny ahead of me. I can’t reach him, I’m not fast enough, my feet do not carry me quick enough. I call to the animal but it doesn’t hear me, instead it flies between two large velvet curtains.
“Please!” I beg the animal as I pop through the hole in the curtains, shuffling through on my knees. “Where are you taking…me…” My question dies in my throat as I look up to find red eyes, his curly blonde hair waving at me from under a gold top hat, a gold mask from that of a masquerade celebration covering most of his face.
But, I know that soft smirk well now. I’ve replayed it several times already in my mind like the fool I am.
This is the man I met on the sidewalk. I gasp. But, why is he inhabiting my dream?
“Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.” A soft voice wafts from high above the two of us, making me shiver. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Why am I frightened? Surely this is not a nightmare. I was only following a rabbit and now I am here with these two men.
Slowly, my eyes trail up the large mahogany platform, showcasing a very large, ornately plush gold and maroon seat which houses a man in an all green suit of the finest quality. He is also wearing a mask trimmed with greens and golds, his lush lips pinkened like he had just indulged in delicious raspberry jam pulled into a dark smirk. He sits with the side of his pale face in one of his hands, resting comfortably on the arm of the pretty chair. The man from the street sits on a swing that hangs high from the rafters, silently taking me in. An aura of power and class drips tastefully from every fiber of his being, weighing heavily upon me like he is a hammer and I am but a humble nail.
“Good job chasing rabbits.” The man’s smile further stretches, his amber eyes boring down upon me, making my skin want to jump from my skeleton. “The next step is to find The Rabbit Hole.”
My eyes fling open, a train's loud horn blaring in the distance, the golden morning haze filtering from the curtains across the room. I jolt upward in bed, cold sweat beading my body, tainting the beautiful nightgown the Suhs have given me. I throw the sheets off my bed and clutch my forehead, musing the words of the man in all green over and over to myself in a frenzy.
...What a dreadfully vivid dream...
-
I’ve been here for almost a week and I’ve lost count of the tea parties and luncheons I’ve attended with Mrs. Suh. The people and the houses and families they all belong to are getting lost to me in the wake of planning for a wedding. Though, I’m not sure how much I am actually planning. Merely pointing between two colors of table placemats and napkins or choosing between a flower or two.
Tonight though, it is another snowy evening on the lakeshore, we are attending a jazz concert at the Sunset Cafe to see a wonderful show performed by the talented Cab Calloway and Louis Armstrong who make the most wonderful music. I was practically buzzing when I heard the news that the Suhs would be taking me this evening. As always, Jonathan and his mother have only two options for me to wear this evening and I must make a choice between them. A silver, more A-lined gown that shows off more skin than one should in the winter with a mink-fur cowl or more fluttering, off the shoulder velvet cobalt-blue style of a ball gown with embroidered golden stars falling from the bust in waves of tulle.
Call me old fashioned, but I choose the one that makes me feel like a princess, not the one that makes me fit in. My thoughts wander between which Suh picked out which dress for me to wear and the dream of me chasing a white rabbit.
I can never seem to catch that rabbit nor have I seen the two men since my first dream. It relieved me, but it also scared me.
A shimmering laugh that is made of moonbeams and stars pulls me from my spell of thought that engrossed me.
The Suhs are dotting and cheerful people, always looking out for their only son in this cruel world. They are wonderful and powerful in their own ways, working the men and ladies in the sitting room of the theater with just a glance or smile of their lips. Mr. Suh smokes a cigar and smacks Jonathan on the back as they stand in the corner away from the ladies. Mrs. Suh includes me in all her conversations, never wanting me to feel lost or dissuaded from a million questions by another matriarch of a well-to-do family.
I can see why Jonathan doesn’t want to disappoint them or the good people of his clan’s name before or after himself.
The room is hazy from the smoky cigars that the men all drag on in between their elaborate conversations about President Coolidge and his beliefs while the women discuss lighter subjects such as traveling to Paris and Morocco as well as tennis. I find my thoughts up in the cloud of smoke that hangs in the room.
“Pardon me, ladies,” Jonathan places a hand gently upon my shoulder, “may I steal Y/N away for a few moments?”
“The concert will begin shortly, Johnny.” Mrs. Suh smiles, casting her charms to her son who smiles with reassurance to his dear mother.
“Don’t fret, mother,” Jonathan grins as she calls him his nickname, “I want to show her off to my college chums.”
Her eyes twinkle in delightful mischief as she swirls her glass of sweet liquor in her hand. “Just be sure to return her in one piece. Y/N has a long day ahead of her tomorrow.”
More wedding planning I’m not privy to I suppose? Such is my life now. High society is fun and all but the pressure is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before… No, my brain is captivated once more by the dark aura of the man from my dream, looming and lingering above me, teeth glimmering in the lim electric light of the room from my lucid dream. That was true, pure evil pressure I wish to never partake in the feeling of ever again.
Jonathan says nothing as he turns from her, ushering me away with his hand placed gently on my shoulder. We move silently and quickly through groups who mingle and giggle, alcohol strong in their glasses and upon their breath as we pass through the crowd of rich socialites.
We stop at one group of gentlemen, but I am only introduced to one handsome man named Jung Jaehyun who fondly shakes Jonathan’s hand and winks at me. What an odd fellow, I tell myself as we dive deeper and deeper into the crowd of people loitering in the fancy sitting room.
“I’m glad you wore the one I picked out.” Jonathan says so low that I may only be able to hear his words. Well, that answers that question then. “These men might eat you alive, so stay as sharp as a blade but soft as a lamb, understand me? They will not leave me be until I introduce you to them.”
“Are they your friends?” I query with a whisper as he pulls me to the edge of the room where young men have beautiful young ladies draped on their elbows.
I have never seen a lady look like they do, but I suppose it is fashionable and “kept up with the times”. I am not so appealing as these ladies are with their skin on display and their heels high, they attract my attention before the men who hold them up do. Their makeup is dark, yet shimmering in the soft glow from the electric lights from above. The fair ladies’ hair is cut so short, their sideways hats and feather headbands merely slip off their sleek and shiny hairstyles. I am in awe of the way they look and envy them for behaving and chatting so freely.
“Do not be scared, but they are budding gangsters who run speakeasies.” My eyes widen with his words, but I do what I am told. “Please do me another favor, Y/N, and become the most desirable woman here.” Jonathan whispers to me before we approach the hoard of people in front of me. “I will set you free from this cage as soon as I can.”
I can only nod as my demeanor switches like that of a light switch.
Walking up to these men and women I’ve never met, I invoke the acting spirit of Jane West for Jonathan. I demand my attention. I am the most beautiful creature in this sitting room, if not all of the world. I did not go to college but I am going to show you how well read and cultured I am. I am going to be a Suh and I command you all to bow down to me in this instant.
“Suh!” A tall man with coiffed, sandy blonde locks beams as he steps away from his fair darling on his arm tonight. “You dog! I didn’t think you’d grace us with your presence this evening!” They shake hands and laugh at nothing vigorously as I look between the two before the blonde catches my eye. They are pretty amber eyes that remain half-lidded and surely dazzle in the glow from chandeliers above. He’s not as tall as Jonathan, but he is handsome. “This must be-”
“Y/N Y/L/N.”
A voice from behind the blonde says clearly, setting to be free from the shadow of Jonathan’s friend.
It’s the white rabbit! I think as I try to hold myself together. He looks rather dapper in a white and gold waistcoat with tails, a top hat making him appear to be as formal as one can be. This is the gentleman I bumped into the streets, but I cannot press out of my head. I want to tell him to stay out of my dreams, but I fear he will think me mad if I declare such a bold thing without expressing my thoughts further.
“You know of my future bride, Jeon?” I feel the grip upon my shoulder tighten and breath being held from above me. Don’t fret, Jonathan, I would never tell anyone. I promise. Your secret is safe with me.
The friend with his hair as white as the fallen snow looks at me passively, eyes rimmed red like he can’t sleep a wink either. “I met her on the sidewalk, John, but we’ve never been properly introduced.” He bows and takes my blue-colored gloved hand in his white ones. He kisses the top of my hand and in this ball gown-like dress I am indeed fulfilling my fantasy of pretending to be a beautiful princess. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, future Mrs. Jonathan Suh.”
“Y/N,” Jonathan says, exhaling the concerned breath he’s been holding in, his grip returning to normal as well. “These are my friends from college: Mr. Kim Namjoon, whose family owns one third of the city like mine does, and Mr. Jeon Jungkook, who makes up the triangle of the most powerful families of Chicago.”
“At your service.” Jungkook says with a cheeky grin stretching across his face, kissing the top of my hand once more.
The way he looks up at me makes butterflies trapped in my body flutter and flounce about. But I cannot swoon or succumb to a young man so openly. Jonathan is counting on me.
“I’m delighted to meet Jonathan’s friends from his schooling.” I say in the same charming manner Mrs. Suh has produced all week.
“Forgive me for this is a bold question, future Mrs. Suh, but, will you be getting a gown made?” Namjoon asks me as he sips his scotch on the rocks.
“I think tomorrow I am going for a fitting, yes.” I nod my head, smiling just the right amount.
“Then it should be crafted by the finest in the Windy City, Kim’s Couture on the corner of Washington and LaSalle Street. Have you heard of the establishment before?” Namjoon queries.
“Indeed! I have!” I exclaim happily, my eyes wide as his stay half-lidded as though he is sleepy, though he smiles earnestly.
“Then I must insist you have a treasured wedding gown made by my seamstresses.” He hands me a white business card with only his name upon it. I stare at it until he taps it twice. “They will take excellent care of you, I promise.”
“Oh-ho!” A soft, almost melliferous voice rings out behind me. No... “This must be the infamous bride-to-be!” I know this voice! Fear rattles through me, making me tremble as I look over the shoulder Jonathan is not draped over to look at the mysterious voice. Time is slow as molasses as I face the man from my dream, clad all in a green waistcoat, vest, and top hat, wolfishly grinning at me.
“Ah, this is my eldest brother,” Namjoon muses as the electric lights flash, indicating the performance will begin soon, “Seokjin Kim.”
Kim Seokjin...
I feel like I know everything about this man yet nothing at all. He is the type of man who is a brilliant summer on the outside and stormy winter on the inside. The smile on his lips - that is the color of the inside of a cherry tart - is warm, yet cold all in the same breath. He appears to be a powerful man of high class, wrapped in an enigma of grace and power. But there is a scent of something malicious in the air as he closes the gap between us and gets down on his knee to kiss upon my hand.
I’m not sure what made me do it, but something comes over me, the flight or fight instinct animals possess lurches out of me in this moment.
“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” I ask, pulling my arm away from him.
Seokjin’s bright amber eyes slowly travel up my ball gown, disbelief and confusion colors his good looking features.
Mouths open in shock and my heart drops, but I feign a lie, turning out of Jonathan grasp, and quickly say, “Forgive me, for I feel faint.” I run to the bathroom in the hall as everyone piles into the main room of the Sunset Cafe, heart pounding in my chest and cheeks on fire.
I’m so sorry Jonathan, I did not mean to make a fool out of you. There is just something about the way Seokjin’s gaze is so feral that chills me to the bone.
A hand rests upon Jungkook’s shoulder while he continues to longingly gaze at the door as if he was willing me to come back with his mind. “Don’t worry, Jeon.” Seokjin purrs in his ear, amber gleam set upon the door. “She is the one who chases you every night, not the other way around.”
“I know, hyung.” Jungkook whispers as the brass begins to trumpet through the building. “When do we make our move?”
“Soon.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, guiding the younger of the boys to follow behind him. “Very soon we will have our glorious tea party.”
-
The subject of marriage has always been an odd one to me, I think to myself as maids and fashion consultants from the Kim’s dress boutique flutter and coo around me.
My parents married but it was never for love. I knew that, my siblings and myself knew that, yet they both loved us all the same. My mother and father married as more of a “good match on paper” sort of situation, than they were truly, madly in love. Still, they never fought, my father never hit my mother, never drank himself silly, never talked to another woman. My mother upheld the same standard and raised us all with love in her hardworking heart. I knew she was aware that I haven’t spoken to Jonathan since we were young children and that I would soon be in the same boat if I accepted his offer.
“A lifetime of money doesn’t equal happiness.” She told me. “You should marry for love, not for any green or gold.”
I agree. I know this full well. I’m not one to be stingy or greedy by any means. I don’t want to be an actress in a picture show or model for a beautiful Channel garment. And though I do want love in my life, I want a secure future. I am the middle child of middle-class farmers. The best match I could have made besides this one was with a cattle farmer or a man who works in the stockyards on the south side of Chicago.
It’s selfish for me to do this not only for myself but to my mother as well.
But, I am here and like my family, I will be fiercely loyal to the man I will call my husband. If not, call me a bold-faced liar and take me and my words to the grave.
Jonathan Suh is not a bad man for who he prefers in the sheets. I know that and have never felt such a way to treat someone less of me if they do prefer the company of one sex over another. I will not break the promise I’ve made to him, but I cannot help but feel like a songbird trapped in a tight, metal cage for the decision I’ve made to help him.
-
Due to the poor weather Chicago has currently come down with, the wedding has been postponed until further notice.
When I wired my family to tell them the news, my mother answered. I was a bit more than surprised that she almost sounded relieved when I told her the news. I promised I would wire soon and my younger sisters begged me to take them to the city to go shopping at Marshall Fields. My father sounded passive at first when the telephone wire was transferred to him by my youngest brother after he told me the family cat, Cheshire, had gone missing.
Truth be told, I am also more than happy to exhale a breath and not worry about someone questioning me about my upbringing. Or having Mrs. Suh and the don of high-class ladies and waist-coated men galloping around every breath I take.
I can finally relax, I think as I pull out a book in the study as Jonathan reads the Chicago Tribune on the couch across the way from me. We get along well, I realize. Silence suits us both. No tricks, not faking our way through hordes of important people. We have to conserve and save our energy for when we face the people mercilessly wanting to know everything and anything about us, good ole’ Jonathan and I...
No, not Jonathan anymore… I am to be his wife, and he...my…
I peer at him from over my book on flowers, losing interest in the pages.
Can I really pretend we are to be an item forever? Will one of us crack or slip up? It seems like we are stuck in a circle now, both of us floating in a pool of choices we will surely drown in.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Someone knocks at the door, plucking me from my fever of thoughts. I fully peer over the pages in my hands, pretending like I was in fact engrossed in the origin story of an author I enjoyed as a girl.
“Enter.” Jonathan says without skipping a beat, not looking up from his black and white ink. His eyes scan the pages, following the drumming beat of the grandfather clock next to the roaring fireplace. But, now that I study him closer, I’m unsure if he was actually reading or just musing to himself like I was moments ago.
“The post, sir.” Butler James reports as he opens the door, my handmaiden Emily gliding up to us with a silver plate in her hands.
“Thank you, Emily.” Jonathan gives her a half-smile as he takes the single envelope off the tray, slicing it open with trepidation.
I look at the blood-red colored wax seal as he flips the paper, revealing a knight chess piece glaring upside down at me.
Jonathan scans the letter passively at first, his orbs lazily scanning the pages, then suddenly his eyes ignite with rage behind them. “No.” He says softly, red flushing to his handsome face. He rips the paper up into shreds then, aggression and hatred oozing from every pore for some unknown reason. He gets up as he throws the scraps in the fire with vigor as butler James, Emily, and I all stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “Don’t you dare go.” He warns me, irises blaring with unmeasurable loathing. “Those people are dangerous.” Jonathan practically snarls as he exits the room in a fit of rage, stomping down the hall as we look on stunned and slack-jawed at what had just happened.
From what I can tell, Jonathan isn’t one to get upset easily or lash out so that letter must have set him off. But what could it have been?
It really has sparked my curiosity, that’s for certain.
Where wasn’t I supposed to go and who was so dangerous?
-
I got the answer the next day as I read a book about traveling the jungles of South America.
“Miss!” My handmaiden whispers like a hiss as she enters the study. “Miss!”
“Yes, Emily?” I smile, putting my book down as she flutters to my side in a nervous frenzy. “What is the matter?”
“I snagged this from the post, miss.” She hands you the letter you saw the previous day with Jonathan, the one that he got enraged over. “Please open it quickly, miss, before the butler spots it! They want us to destroy anything with this seal on it!”
I do as I am told, opening up the letter addressed to both Jonathan and myself with the odd wax seal to find an invitation inside.
You Are Cordially Invited To Participate In:
THE WONDERLAND BALL
A Masquerade Party To Determine The Next “Alice”
For Directions Follow Us Down The Rabbit Hole
Knock Thrice For The Door Mouse To Let You Inside
Cheers,
The ‘Mad Hatter’ & Company
“How curious...” I muse as my eyes trail over the letter over and over, wondering what has Jonathan all in a panicked rage. “Well, I don’t even know where “The Rabbit Hole” is so I shan’t be going.”
“Tis’ a speakeasy, Miss.” Emily says her eyes wide as she reads the paper with you. “They say it’s the most fun one in all of downtown!” She giggles. “Shall I fetch you a gown for the ball?”
“No.” I shake my head with a small smile, hanging her back the letter. “If Jonathan said he doesn’t want me to go, I won’t.” I pick up my book as she slightly deflates, wanting to paint me up for the festivities I was invited to. “Please burn this now, Emily, so you don’t get in trouble.”
“Right away, Miss.” Emily bows a little before she heads out of the room, leaving me to daydream in the middle of the study in peace.
-
“How long must we wait?” Jungkook pesters Seokjin tirelessly who looks down from his wooden pedestal in the back room of the very peculiar club. “I am afraid a letter and her dreams are not going to cut it.” Jungkook snorts, frustration flashing in his red eyes.
“Mm, yes…” Seokjin rubs his chin with his white gloved hand, “Johnny boy has been hiding our little Alice away from our prying eyes, hasn’t he?”
“Yes!” Jungkook stomps his foot like that of a child, fists balled into tight fists at his sides. “And I was promised a maiden for all the hard work I’ve done for you!”
Seokjin laughs darkly then, the sound echoing off the walls of his private chambers. “Jungkook, I’m not sure if you understand that poisoning people and taking out a few smaller families in our beloved city is considered hard work.” He stops then, Seokjin’s usually light voice dripping with malice when he says, “But, I suppose this is one way to end the Suhs and get the last jewel on the crown you are desiring in your attempts to rule the city.”
“Is everything in place for the ball?” Jungkook grits his teeth as he stares up into the man who could end him in one go, but is choosing to help the young gangster. “Your magic won’t fail us now?”
Seokjin winks at him, spending him a flying kiss as he says, “It's going to be dreadfully delightful.” Ending the Suhs, managing to take out some more people in big crime families in Chicago, and adding one more perfect woman to his growing collection of pawns.
Sure, he was mad and about to destroy several lives in the process, but hell if he wasn’t half brilliant and good looking while doing so.
-
“Mr. Jeon!” I gasp as I peer at the man at my penthouse doorstep, covered in white flakes of heavy, wet snow sticking to his black trench coat and bowler hat. Everyone, even most of the maids were out this afternoon which is why I find myself in front of the door to the penthouse.
“Good evening, Y/L/N.” Jeon Jungkook smiles as he looks down at me earnestly. “Is your future husband not at home?” He whispers as he looks around the empty foyer, red-rimmed eyes glancing over the dim electric lights in the hallway.
I flush. My mind was hazy remembering my kiss with him and the other man that is never far away, Kim Seokjin, from the depths of my dreams. My dreams need to leave me be or I may turn into a codfish with the way they keep my head spinning. They haunt me so, the way my brain demands my nightmares to be replayed over and over like this.
“I’m afraid not, he said he’d be out for the night, taking care of something important at the office.” I say with a fake sigh, shaking my head. Truthfully, he’s been acting very strange lately and I can't quite put my finger on the reason for his odd behavior. Ever since he got that letter… Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any post since that strange night. I’ll ask Emily about it in the morning.
“I see.” Jungkook says softly. The grandfather clock chimes from the sitting room and I am suddenly aware of what time it is. I’m severely underdressed in my baby blue lounge attire, completely ill-prepared for meeting company. Books about faraway lands with princes and kings were the only thing occupying my time this evening and I’m embarrassed to even think that. “In that case, your outfit will just have to do, I suppose…”
Jungkook suddenly steps closer to me in one long stride, closing the gap between me and him. My heart skips a beat, his pupils dilate, my words run dry as he snakes one arm around my back, the other holding my chin with his thumb and forefinger.
“Mr. Jeon-” I stammer, unable to call for help, now that this man has me in his grasp.
“I have been willing you to come and follow me, to give into your darkest desires, but still you resist me.” The young man hisses down at me, brows knit with confusion. “You are the only thing anyone talks about and I cannot stand it any longer.” My mouth hangs open. His nostrils flare as he makes his move. “You will be mine. Not locked away in this tower while Johnny is out and about with another man. You will be our new Alice.”
Before I can say anything, he pours a vile from his pocket into my mouth, holding it above my arms so I can’t smack it away. It tastes like roast turkey and strong alcohol and I try to claw and get away but I cannot as Jungkook holds my mouth open; my tongue feels numb and my arms feel like jelly, going limp in Jungkook’s arms. The only thing I can remember before completely blacking out is the little tag on the side of the bottle that says “DRINK ME”, tied with a pink ribbon hanging from the tiny glass and the smell of his cologne which reminds me of musk with a dash of black pepper.
-
Faint sounds of brass and strings pull me from my unconscious state in a flurry.
My brain is working hard, producing series and strings of thoughts. Why did Mr. Jeon Jungkook do that to me? Does Jonathan know where I am? In the same breath, where am I? What was that drink? Have I been poisoned? I look at myself on the red heart-patterned bedsheets. I look fine. There is no sign or feelings that I’ve been harmed, no bruises, and most importantly of all, there is no blood. There is no indicator at all that I’ve been harmed at all, which makes me sigh in relief.
But still, where have I been taken? This surely is not a room in the Suh residence.
A room with no windows, a giant bed in the middle of the room, large wooden pedestals with various wax candles lit drip down the sides surround me, red velvet curtains drape the walls making the warm room seem even more dim, and a wooden swing all decorate the space I find myself trapped in.
I can feel the color drain from my face when I realize that I’ve been here before. In fact, I’ve been here many, many times - almost every night. Not in the flesh but in my dreams. The only thing that is missing are the two men I see every night…
All the little hairs on my body stand at alert, worry coloring my thoughts, and I feign a small gasp in the large room.
With a lump in my throat and my heart thumping so hard I fear it might try to escape my chest, I run from the room.
My blue nightgown flutters behind me, time seems to slow as my bare feet carry me through the rooms from my dreams - though it’s backwards this time. I dash like a mad person, twirling and twisting my way through the room with mirrors on every side, seeing myself panting like a dog running so hard in the reflective glass. Though, I am happy to see I have no scratches upon my face either. I run through the room with clocks hanging all over the walls chiming and ticking at different times, springing through the belly of a giant, tall grandfather clock. I trip over the hems of my dress in the room with a long table in the middle which appears to stretch on for miles in this long room. There are various tea sets, cups, and pots along with tea cakes and sweet treats placed in a perfectly chaotic mess on the table as the eyes of various animal heads stare at me from their places hanging on the walls.
As I shimmy through the small door leading to the room with the walls full of water and sea creatures from the ocean, I pause my panting and sputtering as I spot Mr. Jung Jaehyun with his back pressed up against the glass. He is moaning, panting himself, a masquerade mask dangling in his hand, legs wrapped around the waist of a tall man in a vest who is rolling his hips sensually into his. My eyes widen as I figure out what the two of them are doing quickly and avert my attention. My thighs rub together, a strange fire grows in my lower abdomen, and I know I shouldn’t be looking but there is nothing but pure bliss on Mr. Jung’s face.
I can’t stop, I remind myself as my feet continue to carry me through the rooms I know so well.
Slinking away across a far wall full of lobsters without being caught, I hear Mr. Jung Jaehyun mewl one singular name, “Johnny!” I want to turn around, catch my “future” husband's side profile as he makes love to another man, confirm it’s him, but my mind flashes back to meeting Jaehyun for the first (and only) time and how they touched each other so fondly. Jungkook’s words ring in my words as I hear laughing coming from beyond the rooms filled with tanks and gilled beasts.
Keep going. I can make it out of this place from my nightmares.
The next room is filled with more people, though it’s hazy at best in here. There are giant hookah pipes in the middle of floor cushions, people with and without masks on touching each other so unabashedly, some naked, half-nude, or still in their ball gowns all laying over each other in a pleasure-filled party I was slightly jealous I haven’t been invited to.
“Ms. Y/L/N?” A deep yet clear baritone purrs over the sounds of jazz music and groans of love-making. I turn my head to his voice, feet skidding to a halt as I look at Mr. Kim Namjoon in his half-naked glory, navy blue silk robe hanging off his shoulders exposing a lovely chest, half-lidded eyes tracing my form like I am a piece of delicate meat he wishes to indulge in. “What are you doing without your mask?” He snaps his fingers, chuckling lightly as he takes another drag of his long silver pipe. “Twins, get her a mask!”
“Where am I?” I query as I feel the presence of two figures slowly approaching me out of the dim haze. “Who are you people?” It feels wrong to be here, to witness this. It doesn’t feel right. I feel out of place and my body is begging me to run and my legs tremble like a fawn.
His brows furrow as he takes the tube out of his mouth, blowing smoke rings in my face. “Who are you to question me, Y/N?” He snickers as the “twins” catch my arms, placing a mask over my face as I struggle. “You are but another “Alice” to me. Take her to the ball, you two. The rabbit and the hatter are dying to see her, I’m sure.” They tie the mask around me successfully, leading me out of this room into the next one which I know is the one where the floor is a giant chess board.
“Please,” I plead with the good looking twins who march on like the loyal soldiers to this strange cause, “what is all this?” The music and the chatter and maniacal laughing is growing louder as we prance down the hallway with portraits of people who are dressed in all white and all red. “I just want to know…”
“Suppose we ought to tell her?” The taller of the two says after a moment of silence between the three of us.
“Suppose we ought not to.” The shorter one shakes his head as he carries on in the quest to take me somewhere. “Boss will be mad.”
“You are to be the belle of the ball.” The taller one says with a viscous boxy grin.
“The new “Alice”.” The short one with fluffy lips nods this time.
“Everyone keeps saying that, but I don’t know what it means?” I say as I hold my breath, about to waltz into the strange chess-board-like room.
“The most beautiful, wonderful, talented, special, magical-” The taller twin rambles on.
“The most perfect woman at The Wonderland Ball is called “Alice” until the next one.” The shorter one states softly as he inhales a giant breath. They both let me go, pushing me forward as the drapery of the simple heart-patterned curtain gives way and I am standing at the top of a grand staircase while hundreds of people from below all gasp and stare up at me.
As soon as I regain my footing a spotlight hits me and causes me to shield me eyes away from the bright light bearing down upon me. The upbeat music falls silent and I am acutely aware that I am standing here in my loungewear and not properly dressed to be at the forefront of attention this evening.
“And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” The voice that makes my hair stand up on end purrs as his lush lips soothe the microphone on the little stage they’ve set up for the jazz band to play on. Kim Seokjin, my eyes lock with his which dance with mischief, his smile greedy, dressed to the nines in a rich green suit. “The crowning of the belle of the ball, the apple of all our eyes, the one that shines brighter than anyone in the picture shows, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N!”
A roar of cheering, clapping, and brass music erupts as a white haired-man with a stretched, gummy smile that doesn’t fade takes my hand and leads me down the black and white staircase. The noises seemingly die in my ears as the man on my arm says nothing, grins like a cat about to catch a mouse in its claws. Time slows, people moving and waving at me become a blur as I see who is waiting at the bottom of the staircase.
Mr. Jeon Jungkook.
The man on my arm notices how tense I am and he ever so slightly turns his head and says to me in a deep voice, “They are not going to harm you. Jungkook is infatuated with you.” My cheeks heat up. “Seokjin is helping him accomplish his dreams because he signed his life away to the servitude of others for as long as he shall live.”
“Signed his life away?” I breathe, eyes never leaving Jungkook in a white waistcoat.
“You can’t get something for free in this world.” The cat-like man growls as we are almost there. “You’ve heard of an eye for an eye, correct?” I node slightly. “A soul of servitude so he can produce strange magic, according to him and the Red Witch of Underland.”
My heart nearly stops realizing what has happened. “The devil?”
“Bingo, babe.” The cat-man chuckles a deep rasp, sliding his arm away from mine. “Have fun.”
“Now you kids have fun chasing rabbits!” Seokjin’s voice crackles through the microphone. “Everyone, enjoy the last few hours of the wonderland ball!” More hooting and hollering echoes in the building as I am exchanged into Jungkook’s strong arms.
“I thought you’d never make it.” He smiles from under his white mask at me. He takes my hand and leads me to be embraced on the dance floor. Seokjin smirks at us as he begins to sing a popular pop song everyone swoons at.
“Would you like to tell me what this is all about?” I query with a sneer on my lips. “Why am I here? Why have you poisoned me?”
“I have not nor would I ever harm you.” Jungkook grips my waist tighter. “I merely gave you a strong sedative so that I could bring you to our wonderful palace.”
“Why?” I question as he twirls me around his outstretched arm.
“Because from the moment I bumped into you, you have been the only thing consuming my mind.” He earnestly tells me, sorrow coating his eyes. “I’m not sure what trap Johnny has ensnared or tricked you in but I very much hate seeing him lock you away from the world.”
“You’re wrong.” I state angrily, glaring at him.
“He doesn’t care about you. He likes to frolic about with diplomats’ sons, not farmers’ daughters.” Jungkook smiles at me.
“That’s not true…” I mumble, my eyes looking away from his red-rimmed ones boring down upon me. “I-I am marrying Jonathan for my own personal reasons.”
“Oh, ho?” Jungkook softly chuckles, leaning over, turning my gaze back to him as he gently caresses my cheek. “Do you really believe that, darling?”
“I do...I do! I-I came here willingly.” I tremble, my facade I’ve been trying to convince myself of this whole time crackling under the pressure of his words. “I l-love…” My words linger as I look beyond Jungkook, looking up to see, “...Jonathan…” walking toward myself in the middle of the dance floor.
“Jeon!” Jonathan says, Mr. Jung Jaehyun trailing behind him, eyes wide and scared when they find mine. The male in the waistcoat holding me turns his head to the noise, the brass music climaxing, the gasps of people Jonathan is stepping between couples dancing in the soft electric light from above - I feel like my heart is going to burst. My future husband pulls his arm back, fists clenched, ready to hurt Jungkook, and with an exhale I close my eyes fearing the worst was about to ensue.
The electric lights in the strange ballroom give out in the same second.
People scream all around me, a loud thud is heard and I feel like something unexpected is about to occur, the atmosphere heavy and full of invisible pressure.
“Release the jabberwocky!” A voice echoes as chaos ensues.
“Come with me.” A voice purrs, ripping me away from Jungkook’s arms. I feel almost empty as shouting and yelling break out in the middle of the dance floor. “I will protect you, Y/N, my crown jewel.” My stomach pits hearing him say my name, tickling my ear like the serpent that led Eve to eat the apple of her demise.
Kim Seokjin.
With a snap of his fingers, we are back in the room I started out this evening in and where my dreams always have me end at. I land on the bed in a huff and he ends up sitting upon the swing, looking at me with a triumphant smirk on his luscious lips. There is a certain air about him now that doesn’t seem so threatening, so serious now for some reason. Perhaps it’s him sitting upon the swing like that of a child? I haven’t the slightest clue.
“Where am I?” I demand, glowering at Seokjin from across the way.
“Curiosity often leads to trouble, my dearest Y/N.” Seokjin chuckles darkly, eyes roaming my body, a knowing look on his features. “I think before your marriage you are looking for a little trouble, if you catch my drift.”
Trouble…
My mind completely spirals remembering the scenes of people entangled with one another, their mouths working in tandem with each other, their slippery pink tongues entwined in a passionate battle for dominance. Mr. Jung Jaehyun’s face twisted in pleasure, moaning and mewling as his lover - my future husband - was thrusting vigorously.
A lightbulb finally goes off in my head.
“You want me to give into you both then my dreams will end?” My voice shakes as I query to Seokjin who continues to lightly push back and forth on the swing. “Then you will let me leave?”
His eyes flicker with a hungry vigor to them, gleaming in the dim candlelight. “Precisely.” His soft voice cuts the atmosphere like a sharp blade, leaving me with a chill radiating down my spine. “Let’s have some fun, “Alice”.”
“As long as you promise I am to be set free from all of...this.” I gesture around the room as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers at me.
“You have my word.”
Somehow, I don’t believe him, but I am desperate for any way out of this wretched place I can find.
So, I will use the body I was blessed with to the fullest extent.
I am a loyal woman. I step toward the man on the swing, my hands coming up to the ties around my chest and my waist. His eyes spark with a ravenous hunger in the depths of his orbs. I know that I am not doing a decent thing. Seokjin snaps his fingers again, all his clothes disappearing but his green top hat, vanishing before my very eyes. I know I am more than what I am succumbing to right now. But my stomach does feel hot and my thighs rubbing together is making me feel faint for some reason. My garments fall to the floor in a soft patting sound and I lose my breath in the same moment.
Don’t tell me I actually want this…?
I stand in front of him on the swing and I can’t help but bite my lip as my eyes roam his pale figure, tracing down his collarbones to his sculpted abdominal muscles he has been hiding. Did he sell his soul to the devil to become handsome too I wonder?
“So beautiful.” He revels looking at me unabashed, a wolfish grin spreading across his pretty face. Part of me wants him to touch me, to caress the underside of my breast, to trace the outline of my hips with his fingertips, but he doesn not.
I have to remind myself this isn’t for me. This is for the man that has been tormenting me.
“Get me ready for you.” Seokjin commands, smirk still spread across his face. I comply, dropping to my knees to be faced with a large member swinging forth from the middle of his legs on the swing. “And you will address me as “Sir”, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” I respond, biting my lip as I look from his eyes to his member once more.
“Suck.” He chuckles lightly, pointing to his middle and I can’t help but follow this simple instruction.
I don’t tease him, though I’m not really sure I know what I am doing in the first place. I swirl the flat of my tongue over his mushroom-tipped head several times. He moans in response, his hands coming off the swing’s ropes to hold my hair from my face as I swallow him further down my wet cavity. My middle aches and pulses, empty, missing something as I steady myself against Seokjin’s thighs.
“Good little girl.” Seokjin hums, his sound voice making me feel appreciated. The sound vibrating through to my own middle, making me groan around him.
I bob my head up and down his long length, enjoying the way he hums and gasps in response to my efforts. It’s a little hard to breathe I think as I continue my pace, nose hitting Seokjin’s pubic bone, smelling the most intimate part of him.
My dominant hand grabs his member at the base, working him in tandem with my mouth. Up and down his thick member I go, reveling in every twitch and rumble that flies out of his throat. The swing starts to sway with my rhythmic movements, bobbing him back and forth with vigor, tears climb to my eyes. The tip of him hits the back of my mouth, making me gag and choke on his wonderful cock. The heat was pooling in the middle of my stomach and I fear I am going to lose my mind. I pick up the motions of my mouth and hand, tears skating down my pinkened cheeks, his grip tightening around the base of my skull, digging into my scalp.
It burns… But, I also enjoy it. This feeling...so wet and tight and I feel so evil and sinful but the pleasure is driving me mad.
“Baby girl.” There’s warning in his tone as I pop off his cock in an instant, looking up to him with big worried eyes. His head was leaned back, not focused on looking directly at myself, but the feeling of my lips and fingertips. “Up.” He commands once more, head twisting back to a comfortable position to stare at me.
I scramble to my feet, missing the feeling of him in my mouth already, not to mention aching for him in the middle of my legs. I rub my thighs together for some easy friction, knowing that it won’t help me much at this point.
Seokjin moves his hand to stroke against his giant member in his palm and I lock my orbs in place on the slit of his cock where a clear liquid was oozing out. My mind is truly hazy at best, as I just stand there and watch him stroke himself up and down in a lazy fashion. I bite my lip once more.
I do want this. I am almost ashamed to admit that I want this man.
“Are you going to be good and let me use you?” Seokjin’s dirty words make my middle pool and contort with more of a raging fire.
“Y-Yes, sir.” I say again, cheeks hot and damp from sucking his cock moments ago.
His nostrils flare, his cock twitches in his grasp as he motions to sit upon his middle. “I bet you’re so wet for me.” He chuckles, smile darkening with his words.
Seokjin eases me down on his thick member, my hole so wet, so slick, allowing him to stretch my clenching walls in an easy motion. I gasp, eyes popping out of my head. My nails dig into his shoulder blades, back arching with his giant, twitching dick tight inside of me. I wrap my legs around his lean waist, his pale skin flexing in the candlelight with his movements as he stills, letting my hips sink down into the base of his cock.
“Baby girl.” Seokjin purrs, breath tickling my ear as he throbs inside of me. “I need you.” He growls, littering the crook of my neck with sloppy kisses. He positions us just so on the swing, readying us to begin when he deems necessary.
“P-Please use me, s-sir-r!” I mumble in the base of his neck, feeling high on this pleasure-filled pain.
“I live to serve.”
I gasp as he starts moving his hips inside of my center, bucking up into my body with a fevered pace instantly. The swing moves back and forth and I feel like the motion is going to make me feel his body sliding in and out of me too well. I cling to him for dear life, my grip surely bruising him or harming him in some way as he slides in and out of my slicked out center at a brutal rhythm.
Tears find my eyes again as he nips at my neck, marking me up with tender love bites. I’m a howling, moaning mess, losing my sanity. I am finally full of Seokjin’s girth, filling me up beyond desire.
Seokjin kisses my lips then in his, melting our mouths together in a hurry. He holds my face in his palms, grunting and groaning for me, and only me. His tongue enters my mouth in search of something unknown, moaning into my lips laced together with his hot mouth connected with my pink tongue. He rolls his saliva coated tongue into mine in haste, need seeping into my senses, consuming my thoughts as he thrusts up in me, using the swing as a propellant to ease us forward and backward.
“Feels...so-o..good~!” I moan in between our passionate kisses.
Seokjin just growls like a feral animal in response. The tip of his cock kisses my cervix continuously, brushing past a spot inside of me that instantly makes me quake. He rockets himself against me, rutting his body against my core in sync with his hips slamming into mine. Seokjin expels filth from his mouth about filling me to the brim with his seed, seeing my stomach swollen and full of his children, his warm breath hitting my ear making me shudder in response.
I can’t focus, my climax getting ready to pop at any moment. Wet noises fill the dark room, as Seokjin’s rough speed of his length in and out of my molten, wet center continues. My erect nipples swirl on his pale chest, circling quickly as he bounces me up and down his giant cock, swinging through the air like some sexual trapeze artist.
“Are you going to be good to me?” He asks me, smirk present in his tone, pace almost blinding now as he pushes in and out of me with a need so heavy and strong I can practically smell it rising from his skin. “Are you going to let me fill you up, my little doll?” Seokjin snarls into my skin.
“Pleaseeeee!” I practically scream, eyes flying open as he hits my center at just the right spot that makes me see white.
“Ah-ah!” He tsks. “What do we say?”
“Please, sir!” I mewl and gasp, thighs quaking in his hold, my juices squelching out of me as he continues to thrust into my sensitive molten core. “Seokjin!” I cry while he growls into the scorching skin of my neck inhaling sharply as he slams his hips into my shivering body. “Sir!”
Seokjin grunts, cock spurting his seed into me with a need so raw, so feral he finds his footing hard to maintain on the swing, stilling us from moving about, holding my hips tightly down upon him. He sucks harshly on my skin as he too shudders and grunts, biting down on the crook of my neck, stretching my clenching walls around his member as he fills me with his hot white seed.
My cries of pleasure fill the small room, my pleasure-filled haze coming to a close as Seokjin shifts us - still joined together - to the bed in the middle of the room. I hold onto Seokjin as he keeps his seed inside of me, feeling like I just had the ride of my life on top of him. My climax dies down, my first high fading away, fog around my brain being lifted temporarily as my nails rake over shoulders I’ve definitely marked up.
A cool, damp towel appears with a wave of his arms, stroking my middle with it delicately cleaning up the mess I’ve made. “How does it feel to be connected with the devil?” Seokjin sneers as he pulls out of me, making my center ache and twitch for him.
My eyes grow wide and my lips part but before I can say anything Jungkook bursts in the room.
“Am I late?” Jungkook pants as he looks awestruck by me on the bed.
“For a very important date.” I gaze back to Seokjin who is now fully dressed, smirking that soft, playful smile like he usually does at Mr. Jeon. “Don’t worry, I was just getting her ready for you, Jungkookie.”
Jungkook eyes him with narrowed orbs, but buys the lie Seokjin is selling and proceeds to strip himself of his white waistcoat. “What is on the menu tonight?” His red-rimmed irises bore into mine and I feel self-conscious suddenly. He circles the bed in the manner like that of a wolf would as he finishes stripping himself of any dressy garments, though his slacks remain on.
“The one you most desire out of everything in this world.” Seokjin purrs, stepping up to take his seat on his pedestal high above us.
Is he going to watch us?
“Fuck,” Jungkook growls, dropping to his knees in front of the bed suddenly. He pulls me closer to him by my ankles, throwing my thighs apart so my center is exposed to him in the rawest form. He stares at my glistening middle as I try to close my legs with a little, pathetic whimper.
“Don’t.” The rabbit-like man moans wantonly, holding onto my ankles loosely. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful, you know that, right?” His hands glide up my thighs achingly slow, holding me in pace for his eyes to ravage as they please.
The fire in my lower stomach has returned, hungry and ready to go for more.
His warm fingertips make it to my inner thighs, kneading the flesh there tenderly, so close to my throbbing core that I almost beg him with a cry to dip down into me, but I refrain, hanging on to every trace or brush of his hands against my scorching flesh.
“What do you want, my darling?” He groans into my inner thigh, lips ghosting my sensitive flesh there, inching closer to my heated skin with his upper body.
“Please.” I finally ask, begging, almost choking out the word, forgetting Seokjin watching us from above.
His dominant hand finally finds my nether lips, tracing them up and down with his two longest fingers but not exactly touching me where I am aching quite yet. “Please what?” He teases, stroking me up and down slowly, holding his feral gaze in mine, amber eyes seemingly on fire.
“Please, Jungko-“
He slaps my middle with little force or malice behind it, but I jolt, mewling aloud, wanting him to secretly do it again.
Jungkook goes back to tracing my lips in the middle of my body, smug smirk seated on his devilishly handsome face. “You are so wet, darling.” He slaps me again, though this time I want it more than I’d actually care to admit.
“Jung-” I choke on my words.
He slaps me again, this time with slightly more force behind his fingertips. I hiss out a breath, staring at him with my mouth slightly ajar, brows turned up, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes already.
“I have to have a taste.” He kisses my inner thigh as he slowly traces his thumb over my slicked out folds.
I let out a wanton cry as he hums into my thighs, growling low and deep. I swear there’s a smile in his voice as he works with his mouth and fingertip in tandem. “Mine.” He breathes, sucking on the sensitive flesh of my innermost thigh, marking me with a throaty growl.
“J-Jungkook..!”
I am a mess. I let loose a series of pants, breathless moans as he works my coil in the pit of my stomach tighter with every brush or groan he grants my hot body. I am melting under Jungkook’s touch, my body feeling sticky, arousal dripping from my middle while he circles my delicate clit.
His thumb was increasing his pace of gliding over my bundle of nerves, still slow, still making my breathing become erratic, but the desire for Jungkook to do more was driving me insane. I’ve had a taste of sex and look at me wanting more. I didn’t know if I could be in the position to ask for more. But I wanted him to place those perfect, beautiful sinful lips on my molten core. Jungkook’s breath fans over my middle as he continues to stroke me down there.
I miss the twitch confined to the middle of his pants from the man watching us from above with eager need.
As if sensing my need, his tongue swipes a slow stripe through my folds, the cool of his muscle against my exposed center making me black out for a moment, the sensation far too much for me to bear with right now. His snort of laughter brings me back to reality as he swirls his pink tongue at my empty entrance.
Jungkook laps at my folds as if he is a starved man, hungry, desperate for his next meal. I keen, gripping onto the base of his golden torso as laps at me. I’d think grounding myself on top of Jungkook’s head would make me saner, gripping his strands of hair as he goes to town in my middle. But really, it makes me feel completely mad, like I’ve gone insane.
The feral, untamed animal-like noises that escape his throat drive me absolutely wild, my skin on fire with need and want. My nails cling to his scalp, dragging him closer to my middle as he ravages my core. He maneuvers his two longest fingers through the glossy slick, lubing his digits to breach my entrance.
“Jungkook!” I gasp, choking on my words as he makes a come hither motion with his fingers, splitting my velvet walls to open for him.
Jungkook swirls his tongue over my little pearl of sensitive nerves, lapping and sucking my flesh like he's never eaten a thing in his life. He continues his very audible growling and moaning, husk in his voice incredibly thick.
“Let go, baby.” He coos into my middle as I jolt and shake, his digits brushing past the most delicious spot deep inside of my clenching walls. “Give me your release.”
His words finally tip me over the edge.
I tighten my hold on him, gritting my teeth in the process. My head falls backward on the sheets, eyes screwed closed as Jungkook slurps every inch of my middle clean, not leaving anything to go to waste.
“Kookie,” I sputter out, the feeling of his tongue and fingers becoming too much for me. “I-I’m c-c-cumming-!”
As I say the last of my words, the world comes undone around me for the second time today, my tight coil finally popping. Blinding white stars coat my vision for a second, my body shivering and shaking as I drip out onto the flat of Jungkook’s tongue.
He laps up my sensitive hole up with more snarls, more feral noises escaping his body. Tears flow down my face as I unhinge my nails from his silky blonde strands, trying to push him away from my overly sensitive flesh with pathetic mewls of protest escaping my throat.
More. My brian prompts me to continue to sate my undying lust burning inside of me. I need more.
“Jungkook,” I beg while his tongue still explores my throbbing hole, giving my sensitive skin rapt attention. “Jungkookie. Please. I c-can’t.” I tug at his blinde hair gently, trying to get him to stop teasing me with his tongue.
He doesn't stop and I can only think of one thing to ask before I lose my damn mind with him between my thighs.
“Jungkook.” I shudder, high building up once more. “Please fuck me.”
Everything in the room stills, the only sound heard was our heavy breathing.
He looks up from my sensitive core, brows knit together as he looks into my eyes with such a passionate gaze of uncertainty. My juices were coating the bottom half of his face, his blonde hair is in a state of disarray, as he proceeds to slowly rise to his feet, looking over me on the bed.
“What?” He questions incredulously down at my fucked out form. Jungkook looks at me as if I am the most fragile thing in the world, as if I would burst into flames at any moment. “My darling, my love, there’s no going back if we-“
“I know.” I smirk up to the gorgeous gangster in all of the Windy City. “I want this too.”
His nostrils flare, his eyes widen, and his gaze softens. Jungkook looks down at me with something akin to lust, which makes my heart rate increase...
“Up.” He commands, raw husk pouring out of his tone as he starts to undo his pants, the zipper noise almost jarring in the quiet of the night.
I do as I’m told. I’ve fallen far down the rabbit hole now, I think as I shift on the bed. Standing was a little difficult as he’s just given me one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. I keep my eyes glued to Jungkook. His hands travel sensually down his tiny waist to his slacks he unbuttons. I am gasping, unable to take my eyes off the very beautiful sight of his thick cock bouncing, finally free from the confines of his dress pants. The tip was red and angry, a bead of precum adorning the slit of his mushroom-like head. He was long, girthy, and I want nothing more than it inside of myself at this very moment.
Jungkook grips the base of his cock with his hand while he steps out of his pants, giving his shaft a few pumps up and down while I watch with an open mouth.
“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” He confesses softly, reaching for me with his free hand. I inch closer to him, gliding my hands over his defined body, admiring his lithe, yet sturdy frame. My fingers hungrily trace every ridge, every contour of his golden torso. Jungkook was so warm, so wonderful, and I am slightly kicking myself for not giving into him sooner. “To have you,” he continues, kissing up the side of my neck.
“Please.” I beg him again, eyes flickering back and forth between his.
“Turn around.” He leans in to kiss me with passionate need. His lips molding into mine as I cling to him for more. I taste my essence on his tongue which makes me whimper into his strong hold. “I’m going to fuck you now, my love.”
Again, I don’t need to be told twice as he guides me to where he wants me, bending me at the waist so my fingers dig into the unkept sheets below, my backside open and exposed to him.
“So pretty for me.” I hear the grin in his deep rumble. Jungkook slaps my bottom, granting him a hiss to escape my throat. I whine when he does it softly several more times, making my head soar.
I hear him spit before I feel the extra saliva lubricant coat my backside, the cool of his juices combined with mine was driving me up a wall.
“Jungkook!” I gasp.
He groans when I call for him, pushing his fat head of a cock at my aching, empty hole, wanting him to finally join the two of us.
“Darling,” he sounds like he’s straining to hold back. “Baby, please, fuck!” He grunts, splitting my walls inch by agonizingly slowly. I moan as he stretches me wide, entering me like he owns me.
He thrusts inside of me all the way with one snap of his hips suddenly. A cry leaves my lips along with a strangled one from the man inside of me. My eyes widen as I realize that he’s not going to go easy on me tonight, he’s going to fuck me on his terms. I was in for a wild ride this evening.
Jungkook leans the front of himself over my sticky back, pressing our heated flesh together more, growling to the outside shell of my ear, nipping the flesh under my lobe while sliding in and out of me with a brutal pace he’s set.
“Baby…” he moans in my ear, the deep purr vibrating throughout his body making my breathing hitch and sob. His hips snapping into mine with a rhythm, I swear, no human man could ever achieve. Liquid was flowing down my eyes as the push and pull of Jungkook slamming his giant cock into my velvet folds repeatedly already had me tearing the sheets in two with my nails.
“Jung! Ah! Kook!”
Seokjin glides his hand over his cock from above the bed, matching the rhythm Jungkook’s hips produce, enjoying the wonderful show.
I gasp this over and over like a prayer falling from my lips. My eyes are squeezed shut, my body hot with the raw purpose to feel Jugnkook inside of my heated center. His cock pushes in and out of me at a fevered pace, making my vision blur, seeing far too many white stars.
My brain is fuzzy as he hits the spot inside of me that blinds me, pleasure swimming in my veins. My third climax was surely on the way.
“Baby,” Jungkook grunts, one of his arms snaking up my torso, his long fingers finding one of my bouncing breasts. He starts pinching my erect nipple, holding on to me tighter as we slide back and forth off of one another.
My coil was wound so tight, I don’t know if I’d be able to last much longer. Especially not with Jungkook’s fingers attaching to my hardened nipple, his lips to the crook of my neck, and his cock slamming in and out of my clenching middle with a fevered need.
He bucks into me faster, my walls clamping down on him, my coil about to pop, about to burst forth again. I can’t hold myself up any longer, my legs shaking violently. My knuckles are turning white with how hard I am clawing at the heart patterned sheets.
“Jungkook! I-“ I mewl, but I don’t get to finish my thought.
In a split second, Jungkook pulls out of my middle, flipping me over and letting me fall onto my back so I could be face to face with him. Jungkook climbs on top of me quickly, wanting to resume his feverish pace immediately, hunger and need in his amber gaze. He settles between my legs, pushing himself back into my slicked out center easily, restarting from where he last left off.
I gasp when he enters me, clinging to his shoulders, holding him while the lewd squelching noises in the room continue to grow, faster, louder. He grips onto my hips, guiding me at a blinding speed I didn’t know he could achieve. Is he a victim of the devil as well?
Sweat was pouring off our bodies, my brain unable to produce a sane thought as he grunts and moans my name, his red orbs never leaving my face as he rockets his cock into my folds like it was his job.
It happens again, the very right feeling deep inside of my body, the one that makes me grit my teeth, that makes me see hundreds of tiny white stars.
“Jung! Kook~!” I scream into the quiet room, tears flowing from my hues as I card my fingers through his blonde strands, trying to make a purchase on his roots.
My hands travel down his backside as he snarls, “I’m going to make you my wife! Not some wannabe from the Northside!” Jungkook huffs, his movements slowing down, one of his thumbs finding my folds again, circling my aching clit in hurry - a stark contrast to earlier. “I’m going to claim you as my own.”
Seokjin smiles like he’s just won the lottery, masturbating to the sight of both his clients intertwined, fucking onto each other with unbridled lust. He comes then watching his new toy’s back arch, breasts in the air, Jungkook’s frame pounding into her with hungry trepidation.
I grab onto the ample flesh of his bottom, feeling the world come tumbling around myself once more. Letting my body shake and quake on top of the sheets, my third orgasm taking me by force. I feel complete - feel whole for some reason. I am so completely taken aback with the storm rippling through my body in pleasureful tremors, one right after the other, I cannot even begin to breathe properly.
He lets a feral snarl rip through his body as he pumps into my leaking middle a few more times, my whole being consumed by Jungkook. He leans over me, sucking my neck colors of purples and dark reds and I scream as his cock swells inside of my velvet walls, releasing his own essence into my womb, holding him there like a vice grip as he spurts his seed deep inside of me.
Once our highs come to a close, I run my fingers through his hair, his throbbing cock still joined inside of my middle. We both pant, holding the other for dear life, finally together, and fulfilled with one other. Jungkook kisses along my jaw, moaning my name, telling me what an amazing baby doll I am as his cock finally softens inside of my aching cunt.
“Bravo.” Seokjin claps as he walks down the wooden stairs. “You both did very well!” He chuckles darkly. I squeak in surprise. I forgot he was there and I scramble to cover myself with the soiled sheets.
“Okay, Kim,” Jungkook says as he kisses my nose, pulling out and picking up my clothes and handing them to me. He dresses in his undergarments and dress pants quickly, buttoning them up as he turns to the man all in green. “You had your show.” I listen as I dress myself with haste, back turned to the two men. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked: invested the money overseas, gotten rid of the competition and family in this lovely city, got you a new “Alice”, and even let you watch us play ball. I think it’s time to set us free.”
“Yes,” the mad man snickers, darkness clouding his tone, “you both have served me well. But nobody is leaving my perfectly curated speakeasy.”
I turn around and my heart is dropping to the floor. Shock is written all over Jungkook’s face as I clench my jaw in guilt.
“But, I’m afraid you both made a deal with me, and I don’t give up my new toys so easily.” Seokjin caresses Jungkook’s face in his pale hand, while holding my gaze with a sense of gentle anger. “You can’t always get what you want. But hey, look on the bright side: at least you have each other.”
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A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this trip down the rabbit hole! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated!
#yandere-society#yandere#yandere bts#jungkook x reader#seokjin x reader#jin x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#kim seokjin x reader#bts smut#jungkook smut#seokjin smut#jin smut#jin#seokjin#kim seokjin#jeon jungkook#jeon jungguk#jk#alice in wonderland inspired#the rabbit hole#bts#bts fanfiction#mintedmango#therealmintedmango
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Henlo!!! Just wanted to request MC getting surprised by the demon bros in the human realm! The bros miss MC a lot so they just surprise them and hang out for a bit :) it can be HCs! Thank you and I love ya work ❤️
Henlo!! Get ready for some fluff, my dudes.
I don’t know why, but this seemed better as short little headcanons as opposed to my usual scenarios.
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Lucifer
- He had expressly forbade any of his brothers from going up to the human world, because “they needed time to readjust.”
- But apparently Pridey McPrideface is exempt from his own rules.
- He does his research. If the human still lives with their parents or has roommates, he picks a night when they are home alone.This night is reserved for the two of them, and he will eviscerate anyone who gets in the way.
- Honestly, he wants to do some sort of grand entrance, but in the end, he simply knocks on the door.
- “Hello, my dear,” he takes their hand and kisses their knuckles. “I’ve missed you.”
- “Lucifer!” they tackle him with a hug strong enough to knock over a lesser demon. In his peripheral, Lucifer sees a neighbor stick their head out of the door and look around with a confused look.
- “You have nosy neighbors, I see.”
“Well, I mean, I did just scream ‘Lucifer...’”
“Perhaps we should go inside before someone calls a priest?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
- The two of them spend the night in their living room, just talking. They ask if he wants to go out somewhere, but he declines.
“This is the most relaxed I’ve been in centuries. I’m perfectly satisfied with staying in with you.”
- He hadn’t intended to stay the night, but it was near impossible to resist the offer. And that would end up being his downfall.
- He had forgotten about that stupid game that his brothers and the human liked to play, where they got pictures of each other sleeping. And, just as he couldn’t resist the temptation to spend the night with them, they couldn’t resist the temptation to steal a picture while he slept.
- When he arrived back at the House of Lamentation, all six of his brothers were waiting for him in the entrance hall.
- “So, where ya been, Luci?” Mammon sneered. “Ya couldn’t have possibly snuck off to visit the human after makin’ damn sure you told us not to do that, now could ya?”
“It’s not like our dear eldest brother to do something so hypocritical.” Satan said coolly, regarding Lucifer with a raised eyebrow.
“...I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Lucifer huffed.
“’Hey guys! How many points is a sleeping Lucifer worth?’” Levi turned his phone around to show Lucifer a picture of his own sleeping face, with the human’s laughing eyes just poking out from the bottom corner.
“...Oh.”
He wasn’t living this one down for a while.
Mammon
- This sneaky little bastard straight up just climbs into their room in the middle of the night.
- You know, like he DIDN’T live in a completely different realm.
- The human damn near punches him in the face when he wakes them up.
- “Mammon, what the actual fuck are you doing?”
“Visiting, what’s it look like?”
“To my neighbors, probably breaking and entering.”
- They should kick him out, all they have to do is issue a pact command. But Mammon looks at them with his sad blue eyes and they just can’t bring themself to do it.
- “I got so used to ya...y’know...sleeping next to me.” he shuffled around like a kid waiting to get scolded. “It’s hard to fall asleep when ya ain’t there.”
“Shut up and cuddle with me, you big baby.”
- They stay up stupidly late watching vine compilations and talking until they straight up just pass out against each other. They stay like that for the rest of the night.
- And by rest of the night I mean until freaking noon the next day. And the only reason they wake up then is because Lucifer is blowing up Mammon’s phone.
- “Mammon, where are you?”
“If you’re out clubbing, be back at a reasonable hour. If you’re out scheming, don’t come back until you have something to show for it.”
“You better not have passed out in a gutter somewhere. We have a reputation to uphold, you know.”
“Mammon, please tell me you didn’t directly disobey an order and go visit the Human Realm.”
Four unread voicemails.
“Welp, you’re fucked.”
“Thanks, human, love you too.”
Leviathan:
- Social anxiety is a bitch and a half, so he just asks if he can come visit.
-Deadass just portals into their living room like “’Sup, I brought games, go get some snacks and get prepared to get rekt.”
- That’s it, that’s the visit.
- They decide to do multiplayer vs some other humans and they wipe the floor with them.
- “Eat it, normies, I’M the one playing with a hot person! Have fun in your moms’ basements!”
“Pot meet kettle, Levi.”
“I don’t live in a basement, though!”
“Fair point. Boom, headshot!”
- Levi manages to sleep over without repercussions solely because nobody is surprised if he doesn’t show up somewhere.
Satan
- Makes direct eye contact with Lucifer as he leaves the House of Lamentation and goes “Don’t wait up.”
-Times his surprise visit so he’s made himself comfortable with a book and a cup of coffee when they get home.
- They brought a friend over to study or whatever. The human sees him in the middle of the living room and just screeches “Satan, what the fuck?”
-The friend is like “Aight imma head out.” And like goes into witness protection.
- Satan comes bearing gifts of the newest installments of Devildom book series’ and a recording of the episodes of the crime dramas that they need to catch up on.
- They pause between each episode to talk theories even though Satan already knows what happens. Both of them feel proud of the human when they figure it out.
- Mammon texts Satan in the middle of the night in absolute terror.
Mammon: Satan you get your ass back to the Devildom right now!
Satan: Why?
Mammon: Because Lucifer is about to rip a hole through the dimensions to drag you back here!
Satan: That sounds like a Lucifer problem.
Mammon: It’s about to be a Three Realms problem!
- Read 2:09 AM
Asmodeus
- He just tells Lucifer he’s going to visit Solomon.
- And makes sure to tell him that if Lucifer decides to interrupt him, he will gladly let him listen to all of the naughty things they’re going to be doing.
- And Lucifer just straight up doesn’t want to deal with his shit so he lets it go.
- The human comes home to see Asmo stretched out on their bed scrolling through Devilgram.
- “Ugh, finally! You took forever!”
“Asmo? What are you doing here?”
“Well, I was planning on seducing you, but I absolutely refuse to have sex on a bed that moans louder than I do.”
- They go on a cute little cafe date and Asmo insists on going to all of the high-end fashion stores.
- “Devildom fashion trends always seem a few decades behind the human world. Honestly, it wasn’t until about five years ago that I could find a skirt above my knees! You would think a Realm full of sin and vice would be a little more up-to-date with provocative attire.”
- FASHION. SHOW.
-They spend an absurd amount of time trying on tacky jewelry and roasting it via Snapchat. Like, the employee showed up on Asmo’s story as they were kicking them out.
- They buy a bottle of liquor on their way back to the human’s place, get absolutely smashed and, depending on your preference, either have the giggliest sex ever or watch stupid beauty hack videos. Maybe both. Actually, definitely both.
- The next morning, Asmo does an Inter-dimensional Walk of Shame and no one is surprised.
Beelzebub
- Was going to lie about where he was going but felt guilty about it.
- So he just didn’t tell anyone.
-Knocks on the human’s door and immediately gives them the biggest bear hug.
- “I missed you, so I came to visit. That’s okay, right?”
- Beel wants to go out to eat, but the human flat out says no because they can’t afford to wine and dine the Avatar of Gluttony.
- They compromise by buying a crapton of snacks at the grocery store.
- Cashier: Must be a big party you’re having.
Human, grabbing a family size bag of chips out of Beel’s hand without even turning to look at him: Yup.
- They make themselves a blanket fort in their living room, watching movies and eating way too many snacks. Beel asks them questions about their family and their life up there. If the human has photos, he wants to see all of them.
-The human falls asleep mid-movie, slumping against his shoulder. Beel picks them up and tucks them into bed, planning on leaving to let them rest before they sleepily ask him to spend the night.
Belphegor
- Convinces Mammon to cover for him.
- Does this by going “Please, Big Brother?” and Mammon caves almost immediately.
- Pops into the human’s bedroom in the early hours of the morning and wiggles into bed with them.
- “Why am I not surprised?”
“Missed you too.”
- Human just accepts the snuggles and goes back to sleep. Belphie makes sure they have good dreams.
- If they have work or school, Belphie convinces them to call in sick and spend the day with him.
- Lots of naps and sleepy kisses. The chillest day ever.
- The human feels so relaxed that they almost convince Belphie to stay another night, and Belphie almost agrees.
- But Mammon’s ability to bullshit will only last so long, and Belphie knows he needs to go back before someone notices that his “afternoon nap” was going on 14 hours.
- “Come see me in my dreams, okay?”
#ask#obey me shall we date#obey me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie
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Gwyncien part 5 (last part)
Thank you to all who supported this short little story! It really kept me motivated. This is the last part. I’m gonna be honest this part is not as edited at the other parts but I finished it and wanted to get it out to all of you so thank you!
Warning: the smallest amount possible of smut at the end.
Gwyn's body jolted as they hit the ground. Lucien let out an annoyed huff while straightening out his jacket. The wards around the House of Wind truly made winnowing in unfavorable. As soon as she stabled herself though, she felt a rush of happiness.
Home.
It was her only thought. She missed this place- the smell, the comfort, the people. She started to buzz with excitement at the thought of Nesta and Emerie.
"You made sure someone brought Emerie here?" Gwyn double checked with Lucien. He simply nodded while giving her a sad smile. The moment was bitter sweet. She was happy to be reunited with her sisters, but she would miss her newest friend. She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. He returned it just as fiercely.
"Thank you for all that you did for me. It means more than I could ever express." She buried her head in his hair and took a deep breath. He smelled of roasted chestnuts and a summers day. She would miss it.
"I know a way you could make it up to me." He said as he pulled away. Gwyn looked at him expectantly.
"Promise me I will see you again soon." A soft smile graced Gwyn's face.
"I promise." She wanted to show her sisters the Band of Exiles castle anyways. They would love it. Lucien smiled broadly before dropping a kiss on her forehead next to her invoking stone.
She finally decided to wear it as all the priestesses do. Lucien took her to Sangravah to see Catrin's grave. She had been so sad and angry that she almost destroyed the stone right then and there. She did not deserve the stone while her sister's body lay cold in a grave. But then Lucien took her to meet the priestesses and children that had rebuilt the temple. The children that Gwyn had saved. They all remembered her and flattered her in compliments and hugs. The called her their hero and said that they were petitioning to make that dreadful anniversary known as Berdara day. In honor of the twins who sacrificed so much to protect those children. Gwyn cried for a week straight after that. Once her emotions leveled out though, she began to wear the stone. The children had been a distant memory that she forgot about while grieving for her sister. Seeing them, happy and healthy, reminded her that the sacrifice was not in vein. She may have failed Catrin but she did not fail those children. It was one more thing that made her grateful for Lucien.
Gwyn took one last look at Lucien before he winnowed away. She turned back towards the door, took a deep breath, and headed straight for the personal library. She was so excited she thought she might throw up. She wished she had kept her composure to walk the entire way there, but as she came closer and closer to the library, her feet began moving faster and faster until she was practically running. The moment she burst through the doors she scanned the room for the two females. She found them sitting side by side, each with a book in their hands. It made Gwyn smile broadly. They both whipped their heads up at the same time- startled. Nesta reacted first, practically throwing herself at Gwyn. Emerie was close behind, and then they were crushing Gwyn in a hug.
"Gwyn!" Nesta cried. Emerie just squeezed her tighter.
Home.
Gwyn felt completely at ease now that she was reunited with her sisters. She had missed them so unbearably that she almost forced Lucien to bring her back several different times. She was afraid that if she came back, she would not have left again. After a very lengthy hug, the girls pulled apart. Nesta was subtly trying to wipe tears away which only served in making Gwyn start to cry herself.
"We missed you." Emerie said softly while running her hand over Gwyn's hair. It was such a comforting gesture that Gwyn forced another hug from the Illyrian female.
"I missed you two more than anything." Gwyn pulled back from Emerie so that she could grab both of their hands. She pulled them over to the couch and forced them to sit down next to her.
"You better explain why you ran off with Lucien and you better do it right now because I am angry with you so I want a good explanation before I start yelling." Nesta warned with a hardened expression. Gwyn squeezed her hand and gave her a small smile.
"Lucien helped me with some things." Gwyn did not even know how to start explaining everything that had happened. She knew Lucien did not want her telling anyone of their ancestry, but Emerie and Nesta did not count. At least in Gwyn's mind they didn't.
"Things we could not help you with?" Emerie asked. Gwyn could hear the touch of hurt in her voice and suddenly felt very guilty. She never imagined they would blame themselves. She should have known better though, especially with Nesta.
"You cannot repeat what I am about to tell you to anyone." She gave them both a pointed look but it got a snort from Nesta.
"Who would I possibly tell other than Cassian?" She rolled her eyes with a slight laugh. Gwyn continued to give her a serious look.
"You cannot tell Cassian or Mor either. They will feel obligated to tell Rhys. This information is dangerous for me and I need to know before I tell you that it will stay between us three." She squeezed both their hands again. Nesta and Emerie shared a look before giving her a concerned one.
"We promise. We would never do anything to endanger you, Gwyn." Emerie insisted as Nesta nodded in agreement. Gwyn took a deep breath before explaining.
"Lucien's my grandfather. After the autumn court high lord killed Lucien's lover, him and a brother hid my mother at Sangravah." Emerie's eyes widened comically while Nesta took this in with a straight face.
"Holy shit. That makes you the only living heir to the day court." Emerie muttered. Gwyn's brows furrowed in confusion.
"The day court?" Nesta inquired on the same topic that Gwyn was confused about. The winged female gave them a sheepish look.
"Shit. I wasn't supposed to say anything." She gave a deep sigh. "Mor told me that Helion is Lucien's real father and that would make Lucien the only known offspring of Helion." Gwyn wasn't sure how she felt about that.
"Does this mean you'll get a real Pegasus?" Nesta pondered. It made Gwyn smile thinking of the tiny Pegasus the house conjured for them.
"I would demand weekends with it if so." Emerie added while leaning back on the side of the couch to fully face the other two females.
"Well anyways, Lucien helped me with some things regarding Sangravah." Gwyn directed the conversation back on topic. She did not want to think about being the future heir to some random court. "I did not ask for your help because I did not want to be dependent on you two. I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it on my own. Trust me, it had nothing to do with not wanting your help. There were so many times I almost forced Lucien to bring me back." Nesta looked at the priestess and a smile finally graced her face.
"You are wearing your invoking stone." Gwyn blushed and looked down at her hands. Nesta was one of the only people she had confided in about why she never wore it and she had only done that because she knew that Nesta would understand.
"I am."
"Are you happy?" Nesta asked wearily. The blunt female was not a fan of Lucien's for some reason.
"I am now that I am home. I have so much to tell you, but I might still need to process some of it before then." Gwyn warned. She may not be ready to give them all the answers that they needed or wanted. Gwyn put both her arms around both the females shoulders, tugging them in closer to her.
"You know just by the way, you could have given Az a heads up about your departure. I had to convince him that Papa Lucien did not kidnap you for nefarious revenge plans." Nesta responded after awhile of comfortable silence. Gwyn cringed while Emerie cackled over Lucien's new nickname.
"I figured his shadows told him." She shrugged. It's not her fault if he was being a bad spy master. He should have known Lucien did not kidnap her. Nesta gave a small smirk while nestling her head into the crook of Gwyn's neck. Emerie mimicked the gestured and suddenly all three of them were cuddling on the couch. It made the priestess feel safe.
"Mor said he finally confronted her about their situation." Nesta's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. Gwyn was just as surprised. The Shadowsinger practically ran screaming from emotions.
"How did that go?" The red headed female asked incredulously. She also had no idea why he would chose now when he was finally with Elain to have that conversation.
"Good? I did not get a lot of details but Mor seemed happy." They all sat in another comfortable silence again. There was so much to say on both sides. Gwyn was sure she had missed out on a lot, but they all knew they just wanted to enjoy each other's presence for a bit.
"Hey Nes-" Cassian stopped mid-sentence when he saw the priestess as he strode into the library. A huge smile broke out on his face. "Gwyn!"
"Hey Cas." She gave a small wave as all three girls sat upright on the couch. They all moved over some so Cassian could sit next to Nesta. It was a tight squeeze especially with his wings but they made it work.
"Shit, I have missed you, Berdara. Training is not the same without you. Please tell me you have kept up with it." He berated her like the good trainer he was.
Gwyn gave a short laugh. If only he knew what she had been doing to keep up with her training. She knew he would approve though. She truly had missed Cassian. Nesta and his bickering was a high quality form of entertainment for both Gwyn and Emerie. She also missed his quite encouragement and lame jokes, she would never admit to the latter, though.
"I have missed you as well." He gave Nesta a peck on the cheek which caused a smile to bloom on her face. They were sickeningly adorable.
"Are you coming tonight?" He asked.
"What's tonight?" He obviously did not know that Gwyn just arrived back. They had no time to discuss anything other than her trip.
"Oh I forgot to mention. Remember Balthazar? The guy that helped Emerie and I in the blood rite? Well Feyre and Rhys are throwing him a party in windhaven for not killing us." Nesta rolled her eyes. Clearly, she did not feel that was worth celebrating
"Seems kind of like the bare minimum." Emerie muttered the same thing that Nesta must be thinking. "No need to throw a party for letting us live." Emerie mimicked Nesta with an eye roll of her own.
"Sounds fun.” Gwyn could not stop the sarcasm that flooded her voice. “But I will go anyways.” She relented.
"Really?" Cassian was clearly surprised as he looked at her with raised eyebrows. Gwyn watched as he subtly set his hand on Nesta’s shoulder and rubbed his thumb back and forth. Part of Gwyn felt jealous. She wanted to experience that type of intimacy with someone- with Az. She let out a sigh.
"Yeah. I have had a very enlightening five months. I think I am ready to brave windhaven in a showy dress while everyone schmoozes the high lord and lady." Emerie and Nesta both cheered at that while Cassian gave her his biggest smile. It made her laugh.
"Azriel is at the River house. Want me to take you there?" Cassian suddenly changed the topic. Gwyn narrowed her eyes at him. She most definitely did not want to see the Shadowsinger right now. Besides, she still had so much to discuss with her sisters.
"I can only take so many reunions at once. Perhaps his could wait."
+
Gwyn had never felt this confident. Her normal anxieties were still there, but it was not nearly as overwhelming as it once had been. She felt a little guilty for crashing Balthazar's "thank you for not killing my sister in the blood rite" party, however, she knew the male would not care much. She glanced at herself one last time in the mirror- only to feel that a stranger was looking back at her. For the first time in front of her friends, she wore her invoking stone atop her head. The color matched her dress very well. It was quite a scandalous dress by her standards even if Nesta had said it had nothing on a few of Feyre's court of nightmare dresses. The neckline went up relatively high while the back dipped down low enough to barely reach her tailbone. It left her entire back exposed. There were very few scars there which made her much more comfortable than some of the dresses with low cut necklines. The waistline came in tight enough for Gwyn to struggle to breathe. Luckily, the skirt was flowy with a slit in the side that showed off one of her legs as well as her dagger which was sheathed to her thigh. It was very unlike Gwyn. She would not wear it again, but once for a grand entrance seemed like as good of a time as ever. Lucien bought the dress for her before realizing how scandalous it really was. He saw the color and was reminded of her eyes which she apparently got from Jesminda. She tried it on once for him which resulted in him stumbling over his words in a very un-Lucien manner. He told her he would return it at once and then begged for forgiveness. It was a bit of an overreaction that had her giggling for a decent amount of time. She told him she would keep it and wear it when she was ready. She knew she would be ready when she could walk out of the door without changing. She allowed herself five more minutes of staring before heading upstairs to the House of Wind. Cassian, Nesta, Emerie, and Mor would all be waiting for her up there. She did not quite expect the reaction she received. All four of them stared at her, wide-eyed, for longer than socially acceptable. Gwyn almost asked if she should change, but then Nesta and Emerie were gushing over the dress, Mor was demanding to know where she got it from, and Cassian gave her a shy compliment. The anxiety released her chest as everyone went back to discussing their original conversation.
It appeared the high lord and lady did not spare a single expense for this party. Food and alcohol was everywhere, music played loudly, and everyone was dancing. The dances were different than the ones Gwyn was used to, but Emerie showed her a few of the steps. She had gotten so good at one of them that a crowd formed around the three sisters as they held hands and danced around in a circle, adding in different kicks and twirls on beat. Gwyn had laughed more tonight than she had since Catrin’s death. Perhaps everything was finally falling into place for Gwyn to live her life unafraid. Exhaustion pulled Gwyn from the dance floor and back onto the dais where the high lord and lady stood- deep in discussion. Gwyn did not interrupt them, instead opting to stand by herself for a moment in order to catch her breathe. She chugged her cup of water that was much harder to find than it should have been. She was not alone long before a male approached her.
She recognized the red-haired fae. She was trying to remember how she knew him, but it just barely kept slipping her mind. Based on his looks, he was from the autumn court which made Gwyn wonder why he was even here in the first place. To Rhysand and Feyre's surprise, the male asked to dance with her. Before she could accept or decline though, her high lord interrupted.
"No." Gwyn's eyebrows raised to her hairline. He did not speak for her. Now or ever.
"Rhys," Feyre began, shifting her eyes from her mate to the quickly angering priestess. "I do believe Gwyn has a voice of her own." The couple shared a look before turning to her. The red haired male looked as annoyed as Gwyn felt.
"Gwyneth, I apologize for speaking on your behalf, but he is not to be trusted. He is dangerous." He continued to dig himself further into a hole. Gwyn was the last person to openly trust a strange male, but she could handle her own. Especially against him.
"And here I thought we were allies." The strange male rolled his eyes with his sarcastic comment. All three of them ignored him.
"Do you see me warning you away from every female in this room?" It was a rhetorical question, but her point was made. "How would you like me to throw Amarantha in your face every chance I got under the guise of protection? If I want your opinion on a dancing partner, I will ask." She was a blunt person, but she was not typically so harsh. The overwhelming pity that Rhysand sent her way brought the ugliness out of her in a way that many others have not been able to do. She could see the guilt on his face. She also saw the flinch when she uttered Amarantha's name and she wished more than anything that she could take it back. Just because he reminded her of Sangravah every chance he got did not mean she had to stoop to his level.
"I apologize. Obviously, you may dance with whomever you chose." He bowed his head to her and flourished an arm towards the waiting male. Feyre was too busy watching Rhysand to add anything more. Gwyn supposed they were having an internal conversation. She stepped down from the dais to follow the male onto the dancing floor. She did not want to dance with him in particular. Truly, she only wanted to dance with Azriel who had yet to make an appearance, but she was curious. That nagging feeling at the back of her mind said that she knew him. He grabbed one of her hands to hold and placed his other at her hip. The placement at her hip was odd. Typically, that was reserved for more intimate dances between couples, but that was not why he did it. Her back was completely exposed due to the dress. He must have figured this would be better for her. She narrowed her eyes at him. He must know Lucien and therefore who she is to him.
"Eris Vanserra." He finally announced as they began their dance. "Pleasure to officially meet you." Gwyn met his stare. It was surprisingly soft. Lucien's brother she realized. This could be good or bad depending on which brother he is she contemplated. She had only heard wicked things about all his brothers except when Lucien was discussing her mother. He mentioned a brother helped him hide her mother.
"We have met before." She said it as a statement of fact, but in truth it was a question. He gave her a wicked grin before twirling her.
"We have."
"Where?" He twirled her once more before glancing over his shoulder at Rhysand. He must be listening in.
"Sangravah." Was all he said. It was all she needed to remember. He came to the services Sangravah held on Sunday's. It was not every Sunday, but enough of them to recognize him. He sat in a pew in the back and watched. He never participated. Catrin complained one time that she felt he was watching her. Gwyn had brushed it off as mere paranoia- she knew better now though. She wanted to respond with a million different questions; however, she was expected to be vague with prying ears around.
"Why?" Was all she could muster. If Lucien was not willing to risk a visit, then why was he? She was searching his eyes for any clues only to discover a hint of sadness that was quickly covered up.
"To remind myself that it was worth it." The music stopped as the dance came to an end, so he moved his mouth to her ear to continue. It would have seemed an intimate moment to anyone watching. Truly, it was only an uncle speaking a secret to his great niece. "That all I had become to save her was worth it."
Before she could respond she felt a sharp tug on her mate bond, a whisper of a shadow on her wrist, and then Azriel launched himself at Eris.
"For fucks sake." Cassian could be heard muttering as a brawl ensued between the pair. Gwyn couldn't help but agree. Punches were thrown back and forth, but once truth teller had been drawn, Gwyn did the only thing she could think of. She lightly scraped her nails on the back of Azriel's wings. Almost immediately he wrenched himself away from Eris to give her a startled look- his wings tucking in tight. Luckily, Cassian chose that time to insert himself into the fight and hold Eris back.
"Do not do that again." Azriel gave her an intimidating look, but she did not balk from him. Not now.
"Do not give me that attitude, Shadowsinger." She returned his stare with such intensity that he finally looked away.
She turned to Eris who now looked much worse than her mate. He was wiping blood from his nose with the end of his sleeve. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and gave a tight squeeze. He barely had time to return the hug before she pulled away. Everyone was clearly shocked, but it mattered little to Gwyn. This dangerous and cruel male had gone against his abusive father to save her mother. He had risked his future as high lord by visiting her and Catrin. It was not all that long ago that Gwyn thought she had no family. Then she met Nesta and Emerie and now she had a grandfather who loved her despite knowing little of her and a great uncle who cared for her enough to risk all he had tried to achieve. It made her feel a little less alone in this world.
"Thank you." Was all she uttered before turning back to her mate who had the audacity to be glaring daggers at Eris. She narrowed her eyes at him before grabbing him by his hand and tugging him all the way to the exit. She could see him about to speak so she stopped him.
"No. No speaking. Show me to a private room so I can scream at you for a solid five minutes and then I shall allow you to speak." She was fuming mad at the arrogance of this male. He was in a completely committed relationship with another female and he had the audacity to attack her dance partner. He took her down a long hallway, his shadows twirling around him in chaos. His wings were tense even as his face gave off an air of cool indifference. He took a sharp turn and then they were in an empty bedroom.
"I have been back for a total of six hours and before I can even utter a word to you, you have gone and fought Eris Vanserra of all people? Really Azriel I am starting to get whiplash from you. One second you are proclaiming your love for Elain Archeron and the next you are attempting murder on my dance partner. What would you like from me? Because I was hoping we could start off with a pleasant conversation but I suppose that is too much to ask for?" She was glaring him down which was not something anyone else had ever done. While he was beautiful, his icy cruelty laid right beneath the surface. It was enough for everyone to walk on eggshells around him. Even some of his closest friends. Gwyn had never done that though and she would not start now. He looked down at his feet as his shadows went still. Perhaps they also realized they were in trouble.
"You are wearing your invoking stone." He peeked at the stone that lay across her forehead before glancing out the window. She huffed in frustration.
"This is the first you have seen of me in five months and that's all you have to say?" Her glare turned more incredulous.
"You never wore it before." He paused to glance up at her before continuing. "You look beautiful." Gwyn groaned in frustration. This male would be the death of her. She sat at the edge of the bed in the middle of the room. After a moments pause, he followed suit and sat next to her with a small gap in between them. It was silent for another moment.
"I am sorry Gwyneth. My shadows refuse to tell me anything about you and I assumed the worse when I saw Eris whispering into your ear. The mate bond has become harder to control the longer you have been gone as well." She could agree with that. Her own mate bond had become more and more incessant the longer she had been gone. It was like a buzzing in her mind that would not stop. She wondered how Elain managed.
"Lucien, and I suppose now Eris, are important to me Azriel. I cannot explain why quite yet, but it is important to me that you try to be polite specifically with Lucien. Okay?" It was probably more information than she should give. She wanted to be clear with him. He gave her a curious look. He wanted to ask more that was for sure.
"Okay." He whispered. They both looked down at their hands. His were laid loosely on his thighs while hers were clasped tightly together in her lap. "Elain and I decided it would be best if we stopped..." he trailed off at the end, braving a glimpse at her. She was surprised by this. Perhaps Elain's visit to the Band of Exile's was not to reject Lucien. Almost two weeks ago, Gwyn had bumped into Elain in the castle. Their conversation was awkward and brief, but Gwyn thought for sure that the beautiful female had come to reject the mating bond with Lucien.
"Why?" Was all Gwyn could muster. She suddenly felt so tired.
"After our kiss," he started. His hands ran up and down his thighs and she realized he was nervous. She grabbed one of his hands with her own and squeezed. "Nothing had ever lived up to that. I had been chasing what Elain represented that I forgot what I was missing out on. I don't want Elain now and maybe I never truly did. I know I don't deserve it, but I would like a chance to be with you Gwyn. We can go as slow as you like." His sudden proclamation was hurting her head. It was like sensory overload.
"What makes me different from Elain?" She didn't want him to make this decision solely because they were mated. She wanted this to be different. She squeezed his hand tighter.
"You see me for who I am and you aren't phased. You have never hesitated before grabbing my hands. You didn't even so much as blink at my shadows the first time you saw them. You understand why I hold myself to such high standards and you aren't scared of me." He looked directly into her eyes to make sure she understood that every word was true. He wanted her to see him be vulnerable. His stare was so intense that she had to look away before responding.
"I missed you." She gave him a small smile. "But I have been missing you for much longer than I have been gone. I miss my friend. You were so much more to me than just my mate when it snapped into place and I feel like we lost that along the way. This has nothing to do with what you deserve, Azriel. I want you to know that. But right now I would really love my friend back. We can see where the future leads us later." It was not the speech she planned to give him when she thought he was still with Elain, but it was true. They both still had so much to deal with even now. She wanted to deal with it with her friend by her side though. His shoulders slumped slightly which had the mate bond clenching tightly in her chest. After a moment though, his head lifted and he gave her a brilliant smile. One she had never seen from him before and she realized she would do just about anything to see it again.
"I would love to be your friend, Gwyneth Berdara." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She let out a content sigh as she put her arms around his neck. Her head rest on his shoulder as his head lay atop hers. His shadows were moving languidly as though they were also happy.
"Can I ask a favor of you though?" He mumbled against her hair. She nodded slightly.
"Can I ask that you not touch my wings in public again?" His tone was almost pleading. She quickly looked up at him putting a couple inches between them.
"Oh gods! I'm sorry. Did it hurt? Nesta mentioned that they were sensitive once and I figured it would be the easiest way to stop you from killing Eris." She didn't mean to be too rough, but she also wasn't familiar with Illyrian wings. He gave her a sheepish look. A slight blush gracing his cheeks.
"Um, that's not what she meant by sensitive." He glanced at her before laying his head on top of hers again to avoid eye contact. "It's just not something that one does with Illyrian wings in public." There was heavy insinuation in his voice, but Gwyn could not figure out why. What could she possibly be missing?
"Well we aren't in public now? Could I do it now?" If he wouldn't outright tell her, perhaps she could threaten it out of him. She brought her hand up to his wing only for him to quickly grab it and push her away. She started to laugh as his face grew even redder. "Az, just tell me. Are you ticklish?" It was just too easy to tease him. He held both of her wrists between his hands to keep her at bay.
"Gwyn, I am begging you, which I never do if I must add, please do not touch them unless you would like to act out a scene from one of your romance novels." He truly was begging. She smiled until his words finally caught up to her. Now it was her that was blushing like crazy. Nesta was going to get an earful for being woefully stubborn with details.
"Sorry!" Was all she could splutter out like a fool. She quickly shoved her hands in her lap. Azriel began laughing very loudly as realization of what she almost did hit her. Oh, how the tables have turned she thought. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her closer, dropping a kiss on her head.
"I truly have missed you, Gwyn. Tell me everything."
+
Sometime in the future
Gwyn felt a tickle on her bare back. She tried to ignore it and go back to sleep by burying her head further into her pillow. Another tickle brushed against her. She swatted at her back which was more difficult than she wanted to admit considering she was laying on her stomach. One last tickle had her groaning as she finally popped her eyes open. She immediately gave the Shadowsinger a glare.
"I was trying to sleep." She mumbled, her voice still sleep laced. He gave her a charming smile back.
"Keep sleeping. I was just rubbing your back for you." He had the look of innocence perfected, but Gwyn new better.
It was hard to stay mad at him when he looked like that though. She moved closer to him while he laid on his side. She wrapped her arms and legs around him until she pushed him onto his back with her on top. An ornery grin graced his face as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. He began to run his hands up and down her bare thighs. It made her shutter. The warmth from his chest stopped her bare chest from being chilled by the temperature of the room. She loved waking up this way with her mate. She quickly discovered that neither of them slept too often- nightmares always finding them in their sleep. They stayed up most nights playing chess or singing or training or...doing other things. Gwyn was always curious about the scenes she read from Nesta and Emerie's romance books. Azriel was certainly willing to demonstrate for her. After one particular, evening session Gwyn profusely apologized for touching Azriel's wings in public all that time ago. It made her embarrass to know exactly how close she had been to bringing Azriel to his knees in front of all those people. She thought she might never live it down if it had happened.
"What are you thinking about?" Azriel asked while playing with Gwyn's hair. His shadows were wrapping all around her in a way that made her feel safe especially when they were being this intimate.
"You." She immediately answered with a grin while dropping a quick kiss on to his chin.
"I would hope so." He gave her one last devilish smile before leaning up to kiss her. Right as she began to grind though, Az pulled away.
"Sorry, Carynthian. That is not why I woke you." He teased. Gwyn rolled her eyes at the nickname. He loved to call her that simply to remind her of all she had accomplished. She felt he was bragging about her just a little too much.
"Well then why did you wake me?" She lifted a singular eyebrow but he only laughed her off. He sat up with her still in his lap and started to carry her towards their bathroom.
"Nyx's party will be starting soon." He set her down on the counter before getting the bath water ready. Gwyn lifted one of her legs, so that her foot could rest on the counter as well. If he was going to tease her, well then two could play at that game. Even during times like these, both of their competitive streaks came out. It was always a game to see who could get who to cave first. The look Az gave her when he turned around told her that she won this round. Before dropping to his knees in front of her though, he grabbed her face and pressed a harsh kiss to her lips.
"I love you, Gwyneth Berdara." And then she was screaming her love for Azriel, over and over again.
They were both late to the party. Neither of them cared.
The end
#gwyncien#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel#lucien vanserra#acotar#acosf#nesta archeron#emerie#cassian#eris vanserra#rhysand#feyre archeron
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Rain x GN! Reader.
Asshole.
Its taken me two weeks to get back into the flow of writing fics, but I hope you guys like this!
Warning for swears.
(Disclaimer that this takes place from mkx to mk11, and is not perfectly accurate to the storyline that comes after aftermath, but its my own AU if how I wish it ended, so...)
----
"Shao Kahn was already pushing the line, but mileena as well? Rain, think about what you are saying!" He huffs, his gaze shifting to your eyes.
"You know my reasons." Squeezing your eyes shut, you pressed the palms of your hands to your temples. It's difficult to understand what is going on in Rain's head sometimes.
He had always been hard to deal with. Rain had hired you to help him find someone a while back. Your family line was well known in all relms for their tracking abilities and moral code. You had your doubts about accepting Rain's offer, but the payment offered was more than enough to get you on board.
As the months grew longer, the hunt slowed to a stop. There were No tracks. No clues, not a single strand of evidence to be followed. Rain's brothers remained untouchable. In the meantime, you and Rain had become... close. And you stayed by his side as he shamelessly served Shao Kahn.
Before this, you has always been neutral on outworlds chaotic ruler. But after meeting Kitana and learning of his cruelty in both his political and personal endeavors, you became increasingly uneasy as you remained with Rain.
But now, Shao Kahn was dead. Kotal had taken his place. And it was time to make a decision.
"Is the power- will it ever be enough for you?! Will you ever be satisfied? Mileena is a wild card, Rain! Agreeing to serve her is madness!" Rain's hands flexed, shoulders set back, eyes hard and zeroed in on you. You knew Rain well, you thought. And you could tell there was no getting through to him.
"The power will be enough when I say it is. I deserve everything I want. You deserve-" your heart fluttered as he cut himself off abruptly. Your demeanor softened, and his did too. You almost didn't notice as he started to take a few steps closer to you. His silence was deafening.
"I think you know what I am about to say," He was closer now, close enough for you to just barely feel his breath on your face. He has taken off his mask, and it took every bit of restraint you had to resist throwing yourself in his arms. No. You would never so such a thing. You scolded yourself for being so emotional.
"Do I?" He lifts a hand to caress your face, and against your better judgment, you melted into his touch. You could tell that this was an act. It had to be. From the very beginning you knew that he would most likely only ever love himself. You told yourself that this moment to him is only a chance to get you to remain with him as a pawn. You had always been a pawn to him, and you could tell he hadn't realized you always knew. Still yet...
"Despite my fondness for you Rain, I think this may be where our paths diverge." His body language remained stiff, but he pressed his forehead to your own. His lips in a thin line.
"I know..." This was quite enough. He was such a bad liar that it had started to hurt. You take his hand off your face and into your own, taking a step back from him. Your eyesight locked onto your conjoined hands only.
"This will not be the last time we meet, I can promise you that." For better or for worse, you silently continued after.
"Good. I'll be anticipating our reunion." You take one last good look at him, holding back the words, the tears, the angry and loving things you wish you could say to him in this moment, and you leave him there.
Sometimes, honor and common sense must come before a one-sided love.
You portal back to earthrelm for the first time in months both physically, and emotionally, alone.
----
Whatever time debacle that had just occurred ment, you sure as hell didn't want any part of it. After less than half a week, your younger self had disappeared from the old farmhouse where you lived, and almost everything had gone back to normal.
You hadn't heard from any if your outworld friends in quite some time now, and had faith that whatever had happened, they had it taken care of.
You had just returned from helping an elderly neighbor track down some lost cattle, and were currently curled up in the sofa with a warm cup of tea. Simply enjoying life altogether.
-When a sudden light filled the room, starting you enough to drop your mug, and two figures stepped out of the portal as it shattered on the wooden floors.
"Did we catch you at a bad time?" Fujin had a friendly smile on his face, Nightwolf by his side, his serious counterpart. You were so shocked you almost forgot about the glass.
"Fujin, Nightwolf, I'm almost happy to see you! It's been a while."
"It has," Nightwolf replied, "But I am afraid that this visit isn't simply to reconnect." You sighed, life could never just be simple, could it?
"I had a feeling." You stooped to clean the glass, inviting them to sit while you picked up the pieces. Nightwolf politely declined while fujin stopped to help you.
"Rain has returned. Along with Mileena." If you were drinking water, you were sure that you would've done a spit take. Your head snapped back to look up at fujin, heart almost stopping for a moment.
"I- I thought Mileena was-"
"Dead. We know. After the past and present merged she managed to worm her way into outworld again."
"And... and Rain?" Fujin and Nightwolf shared a look. Oh gods. They knew. They definitely knew. You busied yourself with the glass, taking the other pieces from Fujin and absent-mindedly walking over to the trashcan.
"Rain had resurfaced around the same time Mileena did. We caught them mid battle with an earthrelm man before both disappeared." The glass hitting the bottom of the trashcan was as much of a distraction you allowed yourself to have.
"Rain and I have cut ties. How does this involve me?"
Fujin spoke; "Kitana is now Kahn of outworld. Both he and Mileena want to take her throne, we are asking you to keep Rain in check while we deal with Mileena's uneveitable attack."
You froze for a moment, blankly staring into space. You would get to see Rain again. Maybe even have a chance to sort out the mixed emotions you've been holding in for so long. (By tracking him down and beating the shit out of him, of course. ) But most likely he would hold a grudge for the rest of time afterwards, despising you for "keeping him from his potential". Then again, you thought about Kitana. No, Kitana Kahn. For a moment all you could think about is how proud you were of her. Your old friend, restored to her kinder self and now ruler of outworld. It took a moment but you finally gave the two men an answer.
"I'll do it."
The men nodded.
"Buy us as much time as you can."
----
This was such a bad idea.
You had tracked Rain down in less than a day, and now as he stood before you, you prayed the swell of your broken heart would go down before you choked on your new mission.
Rain was roasting fish over a small campfire in the thickest part of the jungle you had ever been to, a wide smirk on his face. He was not at all surprised to see you, in fact, something about him seemed... different. More genuine. But maybe that is just the hunter part of your brain speaking. The more distracted the target is the easier the takedown will be. He called your name.
"It's good to see you," you swallowed hard, starting to regret agreeing to this before you spoke.
"I wish I could say the same." He stood, sauntering over to you. For a just a moment, his facade almost dropped at your words. You almost didn't catch it. Was he sick? What had happened to the rain you knew? The lair, the theif? No. He hadn't changed, you had to be over analyzing everything about him.
"I believe I know why you are here. Does your support of Kitana really outweigh our past?" The way he said your name after almost made you choke. You narrowed your eyes at him, curling your fists.
"Trust me. That kindness I showed you then won't transfer into Kombat."
The fight was a difficult one, and yet you still won. The demigod, exhausted and face down in the brush, could no longer fight. As you wound your enchanted rope around his wrists, Rain started to chuckle.
"I'm starting to wish I never gifted you that rope." A sly smile plastered itself on your face as you continued to focus on the knots.
"It was designed to help me keep your brothers trapped, you should've known the risks when you commissioned it." Rain mumbled something petty, and you replied by yanking him up off the dirt and into a sitting position, leaving him for just a moment to prod at the dying embers of his fire. You could practically feel his stare burning into the back of your head as he eyed you from behind.
"You are still just as beautiful as I remember." You were thankfull for the setting sun as your cheeks flushed red. He had never sounded so genuine about a compliment before.
"Flattery won't get you out of this." You stated as you sat down next to him, biting into the fish that he was cooking earlier. Damn. The taste was nice reminder of your old days together.
"Worth a try." You snickered at him. His personality surely hadn't changed much, but the way he glanced at you every once in a while caught you off guard. The beating of your heart being a disappointing reminder that you still loved him.
"I realized something the day you left," His drawl of your name caught your attention, but you said nothing, continuing to stare into the small, dying, fire.
"I know you will not believe me, not now, not ever. But I never truly knew how much I cared for you until you were walking away from me." Absolutely not. No. FUCK No. He was not going to do this to you now. GODS you hated how genuine he sounded, how genuine he seemed. It felt like anger and something else were stabbing the inside of your lungs and ripping out pieces of yourself.
And yet part of you knew that for once, he wasn't lying when he said that. At this point, logic had all but escaped from your mind. Grabbing him by the collar of his stupid purple armor, you stared in his eyes, searching for any sort of indication that this was all some well performed lie. But...
Rain was being genuine. He thought that he could rule alone, but the loss of your support ment a more to him than he thought anything ever could. And he hoped that after everything, you would believe him. (This did not mean he would just ignore the fact that you have him under arrest at this moment, however.)
"If I ever find out that you are lying, I'm killing you on the spot. Understand?!" Rain smiled widely as your eyes bore into him. He knew you were serious, you always had been one to keep promises.
When he leaned forward to kiss you, the anger dissipated just a bit, but your resolve, as always, remained the same. You never thought that a kiss would feel so good.
#mk11#mk x reader#rain x reader#mk rain#mortal kombat#mkx mortal kombat x#mk imagine#gender neutral reader#reader insert#x reader
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Mors aurem vellens, 'Vivite,' ait, 'venio' Chapter III
Firstfruit Offering
The sun shone in your eyes, causing you to flinch. How long had you slept? Of course, you’d had a long trip, and your body didn’t have the stamina it used to, but surely you wouldn’t be so negligent as to sleep until mid morning? But the way the shadows caused by the pillars stretched out on the marble, you had definitely overslept. Using your staff, you almost ran into the inner sanctum, terrified that you had the sacred fire die out. From your interactions last night, you were almost certain that Vergil was not the type of God to have his rites besmirched. What a dishonour it would be, to be slain for blasphemy on your first day as Temple Priestess!
Thankfully, the flames still flickered, albeit weakly, eating the last of the log, the embers now almost ash.
So you gingerly placed another log from your small stash, as to not smother the little flame. You cautiously began to blow at the base of the charred log, only stopping when the flames began to lick and scorch at the new logs shreds, kindling into a new flame. With a sigh of relief, you slowly got back up. In the light of mid morning, the temple, while eerily silent, was less foreboding than last evening, and the whistling wind seemed less strange.
Even the presence of Vergil, unseen, but ever present was much less terrifying. You could feel him, watching your every move, but not as overwhelming and less judgemental as last night, you still felt him as you walked back to your messy bedroll. After all, he could have just struck you down for sleeping in, for almost losing the fire, he was well within his rights as God within his Temple. But he just remained silent as his shrine statue.
You arrived back to your modest sleeping area, and as you rolled up your bundle, you noticed something. There, sitting at the foot of the bed was a bundle of brown fur. Upon closer inspection showed that there was one...no two...rabbits laying dead. For a brief moment, you panicked, you had heard of feuding families leaving dead animals in the beds of their enemies as a warning. But these ones seemed placed at the foot of the bed, and not where you would have noticed them upon waking. And the way they were positioned, they kind of reminded you of when the barn cats would present dead mice to you and your siblings, as some sort of ‘gift’. Had Vergil given them to you as a ‘welcome present?’ You had to stifle an inward snicker at the mental image of the God carrying the pair of rabbits in his mouth before dropping it at your feet, and you hoped that he didn’t have the ability to read minds. But, even though you still felt like you were being watched, there was no change in the intensity, and so you relaxed, and allowed yourself to utter out a soft ‘Thank you’ into the still air. There was a shimmer in the light, the roots of the giant plant seemed to shift slightly, but then, all was silent. You picked both of the rabbits up, and a knife contemplating on what to do with them. Skinning them would be the first step of course, but what then? Roasting them sounded delicious, but you had no time to turn a spit, undoubtedly today would be busy. But perhaps...a stew? You had a turnip, and some wild herbs that you’d picked up on your travels. Unfortunately, a stew was not a stew worth eating without some bread to soak up the juices, and you were practically down to crusts of bread so stale, that not even an ocean of stew would soften them up....
“Hello?!” A voice rang out, startling you out of your thoughts. You placed your knife down and followed the voice. From what you had heard, no one ever came here, the entire countryside thought land was cursed, and the temple shouldn’t have any visitors. Still, it would be rude as Temple Priestess to not greet the person, even if they were lost.
“Hello? Anyone here?” The voice repeated, more louder, and it came from the common area. Strange, you swore you could smell freshly baked bread.
Ah, there the visitor, a plump, auburn haired woman with a ruddy complexion, dressed in a simple peasant’s dress, carrying a basket, looking around slightly worriedly, and muttering to herself.
“I do hope nothing bad happened to her, if something did….Enrico, I’m going to...” she growled, but whatever her threat was cut off by your appearance.
“AH! There you are! When I heard that my Dear'' the faux deference dripped through, “husband left you all by your lonesome here, at NIGHT of all times, without inviting you to spend the night at our farm place, I was THIS close,” she pinched the fingers of her free hand together, almost touching, “to making him sleep with the pigs. Damn fool…” she brushed the hair away from her face, and looked around. “So, I told him that I was going to come here this morning, and that he either come along, or be in charge of all the chores.” She chuckled, “Guess which he picked? He’s so superstitious, he’d rather have to milk the cows, feed the chickens, AND look after our little son than set foot here. Anyways,” she smiled and gave a curtsy, “I’m Cecilia Elesion, wife of the lovable idiot, Enrico. And I figured to myself, ‘that poor girl is all by herself, a newcomer, with no one lookin’ out for herself, so I’m gonna take a look out for her.’ Rico begged me not to go, but I insisted. It’s ‘bout time someone took care of this Temple, it’s been abandoned for ages.” She took a look around, her eyes trailing the roots that wound themselves the pillars. “Ah, yes...I suppose you could call this a ‘Welcome to your new home’ gift. I made em’ meself!” She handed you the basket, and the gingham sheet that covered slipped off, revealing several loaves of freshly baked bread, some even designed in a braided pattern. This wasn’t the leftover scraps of a farm wife's dough, these were the first loaves. Cecelia was obviously sincere in her devotion.
“Thank you!” you breathed in the scent as you took the basket. After months of bread hard enough to crack teeth, warm fresh bread was glorious. It would make a fantastic addition to the rabbit stew you had planned. It would be your first proper meal since you had left your home village. For an instant, you felt a bit homesick, memories of your mother’s hearty stew. You grasped her hand in thanks, trying to invoke a blessing, but a familiar chill trickled up your spine, and you felt a whisper in the shell of your ear.
“Ah….it appears she has been blessed by my Mother….” Vergil’s voice nearly startled you, unexpected as it was. He’d been so content to lurk in the background, that you’d momentarily forgotten about his presence. You paused for a moment, a frown on your face as you tried to decipher what he said. Eva’s blessing… AHA! The generous woman in front of you was with child, even if she didn’t show it, perhaps she didn’t even know it.
“Is something wrong?” Cecelia asked, misinterpreting your frown for a concern. You hesitated, not knowing how to go around such a delicate subject. As a child, you remember your mother slapping a man when he asked her when she was expecting, even when she wasn’t pregnant. Should you even mention it? You decided, you had been given a message from a God, it wouldn’t do to not relay it.
“I am just a little concerned with you going through all this effort, carrying all this load while expecting.” After all, a pregnant woman shouldn’t exert herself too much. She should be informed of her condition, in order to prepare herself.
Cecelia’s reaction was unexpected. She turned pale, and a tinge of fear passed over her face. “You...you could tell?”
Ah, so she already knew.
“Well, I was told,” you admitted, glancing at the statue. Strange, she should be happy, excited for a new addition to the family, not looking like she was about to burst out in tears.
“No one knows yet, not even Enrico.” she confessed, a sheen of sweat coming over her forehead. You quickly leant your arm to help her down to the floor. “We’ve tried so hard after our only son, so many losses, that this time… this time I couldn’t bear to let him know, I didn’t want to get his hopes up once again, only for them to come crashing down. Our little Credo...he was our miracle child...I had resigned myself to focusing on just him.” She looked at you, dawning horror on her face. “He told you? Does that mean…?” She couldn’t speak further, the poor woman looked like she was going to pass out.
The whisper came again, without a hint of deception, “I have no claims on her unborn child nor her, not for many years, my Mother shall guide her through both their journeys.” His words, while spoken firmly and without empathy, were a relief to you.
Oh, so this was going to be a Priestess’s job? You’d always assumed that it would be a rather insular job, tending to the hearth, offering prayers, not relaying messages like the more outgoing Gods’ priests. You knelt down towards the trembling woman, speaking as soothingly as possible. “It’s alright...He has spoken to me, and he says that you and your child are safe.”
The woman scanned your face, trying to find out if you were truly speaking the truth, or just speaking false words of comfort, before the impact of what you had said hit her.
“You’re...you’re certain?”
You nodded, inwardly relieved as the ruddiness returned to her cheeks. What you didn’t expect was her hugging you.
“Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!” You swore you could hear your ribs cracking, “A thousand blessings upon you. You have no idea how much both of us have been praying to Mother Eva for another child, we were almost planning on making a Pilgrimage to Fortuna. But if you and Him say…” she looked to you for one last confirmation, and smiled brightly. “Rico will be delighted when I tell him. And to think…” her old grin came back, “he’d rather clean up chicken droppings than set foot in this place.” She looked down at the basket, momentarily forgotten, “this is poor payment, but is there anything, ANYTHING you need that our family can provide, we can do it.”
“Well,” you thought. In truth, the fact the Temple was located on lifeless ground, meant you were without much sustenance, so maybe… “Wood for the sacred hearth. I need a supply to keep the flame burning.”
“Say no more,” Cecilia assured you as she got back onto her feet, “you will lack for nothing. We’re just poor humble farmers, but we can provide you and Him the essentials. Whatever you need!”
She gave a curtsy to you, paused before the statue, and clasped her hands to speak a short silent prayer. For a brief moment, you swore you saw the roots quiver, but when tried to take a closer look, they were still. But something in the air was different, other than the smell of bread, there was a vibration, a smell of fresh earth, but then it was sucked up, like water to a dry sponge.
And with that the woman left, a spring to her step, so out of place in such a dour looking place.
*******
Vergil watched as the little plump woman hurried out, singing a merry tune. Mortals got far too excited over small things. While he spoke the truth, that for now, he had no claims on her or her child, in a short amount of his time, he would claim one, then the other. That went for everyone, none could escape his reach. Perhaps that’s why people were afraid of him, that they would attempt to avoid his inevitable arrival to end their pitiful lives. But this was strange. That woman had… thanked him? To him, a God of Death, be given thanks felt...fulfilling. A surge of energy, more potent than life blood coursed through him, and the Qliphoth’s roots seemed to twitch in response.
“Well, that was kind of you.” His sense of puzzlement was dissipated as the voice of his Priestess, who was watching the woman’s receding form.
He stood beside her, still invisible and scoffed, “She provided an offering, I felt it would be poor form to let her leave without being compensated.”
“But you didn’t have to do that. You made her so happy!” she placed her hands together, “If you did that more often, perhaps more people would visit your temple!”
“And what makes you think I want people to ‘visit’?”
“Well…” she stroked her chin, “I assumed you would be lonely all by yourself here. After all, that’s what temples and shrines are for, right? To be a meeting point for both mortals and Deities. Us mortals give you offerings and our prayers, and you give us advice, prophecies and sometimes intercede on our behalf.”
She looked outside. “Where I come from, in the wild forests…packs of monkeys and herds of deer travel together. The deer, with their keen noses, lead the monkeys to fresh vegetation with nuts and fruits, and the monkeys, sitting high above the trees, have a good view of the surrounding area and can alert the deer when a tiger is prowling downwind of the herd. A relationship in which both benefit.”
Vergil was annoyed by her simple observation. “I need none of that.”
“Well, you’re the only God I know who doesn’t appreciate or encourage worship. Lady Trish has people flocking to her for her for rain-bringing storms, Lord Dante practically has entire battalions marching through his temples, praying for victory. Even poets and writers make the pilgrimage from miles to beg the gift of inspiration from Lord V-”
“DO NOT SPEAK THAT NAME!”
The roots of the Qliphoth rippled with energy, and he had to control them from jerking. Just the mention of that cursed name brought back memories that he could not bear. In response to his rage the roots demanded blood, lifeforce, something to sate their ever ravenous hunger. And they sensed the Priestess, standing there, so weak and vulnerable. Easy prey.
“I’m sorry,” she spoke apologetically, but refreshingly not with overly emotional supplication. Just her calm voice, startled at his outburst but without the expected fear, was enough to let his rage subside. She stood there, unaware how close she was to death, her eyes staring through him. She still couldn’t see him, of course, he would not allow it, but her steady and firm stance was unafraid of his wrath. Perhaps her expecting death in such a short time left her without fear.
No, he ordered them to stand down, and they reluctantly complied, she has no idea of what she speaks of, he thought, and besides...she still has more use to me alive than dead...for now.
Still, his rage hadn’t truly subsided…did he really need her, another priest that would eventually stab him in the back?
“I need no one.” He hissed, his voice sizzled through the temple like a winter’s wind. “I need no worshippers….I need no priestess.”
And without allowing her to respond, he left, not even looking back. She would no doubt leave after his outburst...any sane person would. He was fine with that.
He did not need her.
He did not need anyone.
All He needed was power.
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Happy Taco Truck: Ice Cream Dreamboat (Part 1)
(all photo credit goes to owners)
I know it’s only been months, but it feels like years since I’ve shared a fic! This is a continuation of @no-stone-no-bone‘s awesome fic Duff’s Doughnuts (link here). I agree with Skyler, I’d love to see other writers write about the different food trucks and make this a series. This was supposed to be a one-shot, but as I am physically incapable of writing short fics, this is a two-parter. Buckle in!
Tag list: @izzysdenimjacket @no-stone-no-bone @sexcoffeeandrockandroll @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands @smokeandmirrorz @sodalitefully @roger-taylors-car @harley-m-rose if you’d like to be tagged let me know, we all know how wonderful the tags work though
Warnings: language, sibling promiscuity, lonely cooking, terminal embarrassment, Axl and Tracii are Axl and Tracii
Thunk thunk thunk.
It was another scorcher inside your food truck, the vicious heat wafting off the griddle pummeling your face as you deftly raked your spatula through a pile of crisping beef tips, then piled them into a fluffy shell, handing it off for your sister Skyler to kiss with your award-winning cilantro lime crema and hand out to the customer.
You couldn’t resist moving up to the open side to watch the patron, a long-haired man wearing a nose chain with “Endless Burgers” stitched on his shirt, take a bite of your creation, then bend at the knees from ecstasy and dig a ten dollar bill from his pocket, stuffing it in your tip jar.
It has been gangbusters during the lunch rush in The Circle, the informal name given to the parking lot of ornery hooligans who fed the masses during the day and lingered behind late in the evening for a bit of recreational hell-raising.
There was a plethora of culinary delights scattered around you, including Duff’s Doughnuts, Tracii and Phil’s Sno-Cones, Stoney & Cready’s Homewrecker Corndogs, and Jon and Richie’s Jersey Essentials (you never really knew what they were selling, apart from Aqua Net and the occasional cheesesteak, but after they began offering rippers-deep fried hot dogs-Skyler made frequent trips over to ask Richie if she could eat his weenie). And from what you heard, they all knew how to throw down at night.
You never stayed to find out, though. Your shyness forced you to fire up Helen the Happy Taco truck and drive home, leaving Skyler behind to do God-knows-what to who-knows-what, and you arrived in the mornings to find her either helping Kelly from Nickels’ BBQ feed his pink-painted porcine smoker, both of them covered in hickeys, or nearly trading blows with the loudmouth redhead who ran the ice cream truck.
Today, however, you’d found her with someone new. When you pulled into the lot, you saw her with her arms wrapped around a guy with long hair wearing a flannel shirt and shorts, gazing raptly into his piercing blue eyes. “Bye, Ed,” she murmured, pecking a kiss on his mouth.
“Who was that?” you asked, your eyebrows shooting skywards.
“Produce man,” she answered quickly.
“Were you getting us a good deal?’
“You know it.”
You peeled your gloves off and wiped your sweating face with a paper towel, trying to blot off as much grease as possible. “I’m taking a break. I need some ice cream.”
“I got you a frozen lemonade on my break. It’s gonna taste like shit when you drink it with that ice cream.”
“I don’t care.”
“Punch that dick Axl in the face while you’re over there. He’s on my last fucking nerve.”
You trudged down to ��Axl and Izzy’s Frozen Delights,” eager to leave the brutal swelter inside your truck. Standing in front of their window, you bent backwards and cracked your aching back, then a raspy voice asked, “Can I help you?”
You looked up into the most beautiful doe eyes you’d ever seen, hazel verging on gold in the afternoon sunlight, belonging to a guy with messy brown hair tied back with a bandanna, and suddenly your feet didn’t hurt anymore. “Hi,” you said faintly.
“Hey,” he replied, smiling at you, and you felt your breath leave you. “I’m Izzy, who might you be?”
“Y/N.”
“What can I get for you?”
Your brain instantly forgot how to make words. “Cone,” you muttered.
His smile grew even bigger. “What do you want in your cone?”
“Ice cream.”
He chuckled softly. “What kind?”
“I don’t know.”
Those gorgeous eyes were full of merriment, crinkling at the corners. “You don’t know?”
“No.” Get ahold of yourself, you’re sounding like a moron. “Uh, chocolate?”
“Sure. I mean, as long as you’re sure about that.” He winked at you, then turned to the freezer case behind him, and you got an exquisite view of his perfect ass, your mouth open and your breath coming in gasps, then he turned around and grinned, catching you mid-gawk, and you immediately wanted the earth to swallow you up.
“Thank you,” you blurted when he handed you your cone, then you turned to leave.
“Uh, Y/N?”
“Uh huh?” You couldn’t believe he was going to prolong putting up with your awkward ass.
“Aren’t you going to pay me?”
“Oh,” you said, humiliation bringing a knot to your throat, and you handed him a crumpled pile of bills and scuttled away before you could cry.
“Sis, you mind if I head out a little early?” you asked. “I’ve got a headache and I want to go home.”
“Sure. I think we’re done for today. You sure you’re okay?”
You hadn’t said a word all afternoon, just cooked and sweated and tried not to think about what a failure you were. This was why you didn’t stick around at night, even though you longed to, to laugh and have fun with all the crazy characters around you. Because you’d fuck it up if you did.
Why wasn’t I born normal? you thought bitterly. Why am I the disaster in the family?
“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I’m fine.”
That’s why your tacos were so delicious. Because you were such a loser, you stayed home and perfected them instead of going out and having a life. With no demands on your personal time, you discovered that lime made your chicken taco sing, while a little tomato sauce was the secret to juicier ground beef.
Your loneliness was the key to Happy Taco’s success.
And you’d give everything you knew away just to be cool for five minutes.
“OPEN UP!!” a male voice hollered. Bam! Bam! Bam! “Little pig, little pig, let me in!”
Skyler dropped the hatch. “Tracii! Ferfucksakes! We just got here!”
Tracii grinned under his bandanna. “I wanna eat your taco.”
“It is an honor and a privilege to serve you a Happy Taco,” she answered, leaning on the counter and linking her fingers. “However, we haven’t got anything set up and the only kind we can get you is our el pastor.”
“Okay,” he said, “gimme two,” and Skyler nodded to you.
You sliced the meat off the trompo, carefully evening out the sides, all the while reliving the embarrassment of the previous afternoon in your head. Maybe you could drive Helen down to Baja California and start life anew, under a different name.
“Hey!” Tracii yelped, his eyes on you. “I know you! You’re the one Izzy was talking about last night,” and your knife nearly stabbed the metal pole holding up the pork and pineapple mass.
“Yeah,” he smiled lazily, “you are a looker, aren’t you? How come you don’t party with us? Izz said you seemed kinda shy.”
With your eyes wide and heart hammering, you handed the tacos to Skyler, whose mouth was hanging open in shock.
Before she could say anything, Tracii handed her his money and sauntered off, orgasmically moaning as he chewed, and Axl stepped up to the window.
“The fuck you want?” Skyler snapped. “”It’s too early in the day for you to pick a fight, asshole.”
“I’m not here to fight,” he growled, slamming down a wad of dollars. “This is from Izzy. For her ice cream,” and he jutted his chin towards you. “He says you eat for free at our truck. The bo-both of you,” he gritted, the agony of that idea etching deeply on his face.
“Thank you,” you smiled in surprise.
His eyes met yours, waving off your delight. “Yeah, he’ll be down later.”
“Yes, thank you, Axl,” Skyler said. “May we offer you an el pastor taco?”
“No,” he said, already retreating. “Pork gives me the shits.”
Izzy did come by later, just in time for your sister to run off on her break.
“Hi, Izzy,” you said, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Hey,” he smiled, looking delicious in his sunglasses. “So what kind of tacos do you have?”
You recited the list. “El pastor, carnitas, beef tips, seasoned ground beef, chicken, shrimp, and uh, lengua.”
“What’s that?”
“Uh, tongue.”
He pulled a face and stuck out his tongue, and you giggled, your shyness melting away at his goofiness. “No, no, it’s really good. Imagine the most tender, flavorful pot roast. Everyone always orders seconds.”
“I think I’ll pass on the tongue, that one anyways, and have one shrimp and one chicken. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing. Uh, you and Axl, you eat for free here too. Thank you, by the way, that’s very generous.”
He grinned wider, and you noticed he’d hadn’t stopped smiling at you since he showed up. “Don’t mention it.”
You opened the shrimp and chicken containers, then threw the meat down on the griddle and moved it around, forcing yourself to focus on sauteing and not burning down the fucking truck because Izzy was outside.
He peeked in the window, looking around the interior of the truck. “So how long have you been cooking?”
“Oh, since I was small. I was at a stove before I could see over it. These are all my grandmother's recipes.” You scooped the fillings into their shells, then grabbed the crema.
“Hey, I only ordered two,” Izzy protested when you handed him his tacos in a cardboard to-go basket.
“One of the chicken ones is Axl’s. Consider it a peace offering.”
“Thank you. Hey, Y/N, I was wondering if-”
“Hey, Y/N, I was wondering if I could get some fucking service around here,” a mullet-sporting, Confederate flag t-shirt wearing asshole growled, and Izzy waved, then walked away.
He returned the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day, working his way through your menu and bringing you a different-flavored milkshake each time. He loved all of the tacos he tried, even daring to sample the beef tongue, then immediately ordered another one.
“Told you,” you grinned.
He always made conversation with you while you cooked, his eyes locked on yours as he ate, but every time he finished, there was always a line to tend to, and Skyler made herself scarce as soon as she spotted him. You never returned to his truck for ice cream, and spent your downtime cleaning the flattop, lighting out as soon as you turned over the CLOSED sign.
“You know,” your sister said to you as you turned the key in the ignition, “if you stayed, you’d probably hook up with Izzy.”
“No,” you said sadly, “I’m a hot mess. I’d say something stupid and he’d run away.”
“Can’t talk with his tongue in your mouth,” she teased, “or some other part.”
“SKYLER!” you shrieked as she cackled, then you sighed and leaned your head against the steering wheel. “I’m not like you.”
“You don’t have to be,” she said, leaning over and stroking your hair. “Just give him a chance.”
“I can’t stay here and have Helen be a-a sin wagon.”
“It’s not like we have orgies!” Skyler laughed. “At least your man doesn't. He plays guitar and Axl sings, when he’s not being a dumbass.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. And then Izzy sings, and Kelly gives me The Look and……”
“Or the produce man shows up.”
“Or Eddie the produce man shows up.” She gave you a slight smile. “C’mon, Sis, stay. He likes you.”
“He doesn’t know me.”
“Then get to know him. Axl says he’s pining.”
You looked at her in surprise. “When did you talk to Axl?”
“When he told me that chicken taco you gave him was the best thing he’s ever had.”
You smiled at his praise, drumming your fingertips on the steering wheel. “Maybe I’ll stay sometime.”
“Pining,” Skyler said, then hopped off the truck.
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Written in the stars.
Saturday, I stepped onto the baking 100+ degree University of Oregon track to compete in my second Olympic Trials. The feelings overcoming me were quite different than those I experienced in 2016, which back then were derived from being one of the fresh faces on the scene - one of the youngsters who had “plenty of years” to chase the Olympic dream. There may have been some pressure felt then, but this time around it was incomparable.
The Olympic hype is no doubt a factor in the emotional roller coaster most experience at the U.S. Olympic Trials. I compete 9 months out of the year every year, yet this competition (and the Games themselves, of course) is the only one that really grabs the attention of the public eye outside of the track community. Not even World Championships can compare to the Olympic hype, which I find ironic because that team is just as difficult to make, and you end up competing against the same fierce competitors at Worlds as you do at the Games.
I digress.
The point of that paragraph is to say - the pressure was on for the Trials, and while I preach to interpret it as support and encouragement from outside sources, it’s hard to overlook the feeling of expectation when I repeatedly hear the phrase “oh, you’ll make the team easily. Just go for gold in Tokyo!”
“Make the team easily”… ha. The Trials are a beast, and even the top dogs have to be on their A-game. No bad days allowed, because a dozen other athletes slightly down the totem pole are chomping at the bit, rearing to snag those rare 3 spots on the Team. My bad day is their chance to claim the spot, and rightfully so - but no matter how good you are, you can never go in thinking you have something in the bag. That’s when your bag will be lost, and you’ll never get it back. (Sort of like losing luggage while transferring through Charles de Gaulle airport - it’s just gone 😅. I hope someone who has followed me a while giggles at my reference.)
All this to say, the pressure was surmountable, and the most unfortunate part of my story is my confidence on the runway has been lacking the last month or two. It’s been a culmination of attempting to push my physical boundaries and raise my grip, but also combined with attempting to change technical things this season. I ended up biting off way more than I can chew. Being at the level I am, I will be the first to say “don’t try changing too much at once, that can really mess you up.” Well, I guess my judgement has been clouded by my burning desire to improve, and I ended up going against my own advice without recognizing it - until things came crashing down, that is. And I mean that in a literally way.
In my final competition prior to the trials, I ended up going back down to my shorter series of poles because I have felt my technique suffering. I was putting so much energy into trying to jump on the longer poles that my training sessions lacked focus on the basics of my form, which is what made me a 5 meter pole vaulter in the first place. Grip height never got me there - physical ability did. I cannot lose that because speed and power, and my ability to attack at the takeoff, are what made me great. They are my bread and butter.
While change can be a good thing, there is always going to be an adjustment period. Unfortunately for athletes, we still have to compete during the awkward times, which leaves you trying to compete at your best when you’re in the middle of a metamorphosis. It’s going to look as though you’re suffering, but in reality you’re just in the middle of morphing into a butterfly 🦋, and no butterfly can take flight before it leaves the cocoon.
That’s how I feel right now. I believe big positive changes are on the horizon, but they will only happen with persistence and positivity, and also with understanding given to myself from myself. As elite athletes, we hold ourselves to the highest of expectations at all times. I know the process I am going through, yet still was so infuriated at myself for my performance at the Trials. I don’t want to lose that fury and that fire, because that is what’s going to get me through to my goal, but I do want to work on not being so hard on myself. I know it sounds elementary, but it’s true at all levels. If anyone understands the struggles you’re enduring, it should be you. As humans, we should be allowed to show ourselves compassion just as we do toward others.
In that final competition before Trials that I referred to, I felt just ok on the shorter poles. I mean, no worse and no better than I do on the longer ones. (For reference, I’m talking 4.45m/14’7” poles versus 4.60m/15’1” poles.) I am glad I went back to them because it made me truly recognize my technique was suffering. It had nothing to do with what poles I was jumping on. I needed to “get my jump back”, regardless of poles, and I needed to do it fast because the trials were two weeks away at that time.
A few days later I did another vault session on the short poles, and I think it was probably the worst practice I have had in years. Like, literal years. I mean it. I don’t even know why - my body felt fine, the conditions were fine, etc. For whatever reason I just didn’t have it that day. I would run down the runway feeling good, plant the pole, and completely miss the swing and connection. I chalk that day up to sport. That’s just sport. Your bad days are going to happen and you sometimes can search and scrape for an explanation, and there simply isn’t one. You just didn’t have it that day.
“Well, crap.” I thought, when I ran through my last vault of the session and the pole ripped the skin right off the palm side of my thumb. “I needed that skin” I said, laughing in disbelief and also laughing because my body didn’t know what to do with my panic. Isn’t the human body such a strange thing? I felt panic and my reaction was to laugh - not sure that was an appropriate reaction but hey, I’m weird and I know it.
So now I was one week from the trials, I had just had a poor competition, and even more poor practice session, and ripped off vital skin I needed to heal within six days. A pole vaulters ability to grip is vital.
My emotions went numb at that point. I think I had worried away all of my worries. I decided to focus on getting lots of sleep, nourishment, and healing my hand. I kept it bandaged properly 24/7, and soft with ointments. This turned out to be the perfect approach because day 5 it was nearly perfectly healed and didn’t end up being an issue for my first competition day at prelims.
Prelims were absolutely necessary for me, and ended up being the first step in getting my groove back. Aside from it being hot (which I’m used to, thank you Arkansas…) the conditions in prelims were close to perfect. Throughout the warmup I got my feet under me and felt I successfully shook off the former horrid practice. I made 4.50m on my first jump, and with that single jump I qualified for the final round.
Two days later, the heat dome in Portland roasted the stadium to a whopping 111 degrees F. I wanted to take as few jumps as possible the get myself to the higher bars. In hindsight I know that was the right call because wow, doping control took me two hours because I couldn’t pee 90ml of fluid. (90ml is the absolute minimum required amount for a drug test - and it’s not much!) In warmups my run started to feel like “Sandi” again. I hadn’t felt like that in quite a while. I entered the competition and made 4.50m and 4.60m on my first attempts, but I didn’t expect those to be my only jumps of the day.
The bar went to 4.70m and I felt like I was rolling and ready to go now, shorter poles and all. It didn’t matter. First attempt, huge blow through. Needed a stiffer pole, so I missed. Second attempt, same thing! I landed so deep in the pit I had zero chance of making that bar. “Ok” I thought to myself “the next bigger pole has got to be the one. That’s always been my money pole!” So I went up a pole a third time, and after watching Morgan run down and make 4.70m (congrats Morgan!) I knew I had to respond. At this point I didn’t even know I was already in 3rd place and on the team, in my mind, I had to make this height to qualify. (Thanks ADHD, I’m not so great at processing those things mid competition when the adrenaline is pumping.) I ran down with more confidence than I had had in a few weeks time, jumped and had plenty of height over the bar! But my energy was a bit off center and my arm caught it on the way down. I missed my third attempt. I landed in the pit and was rolling out of the landing, simultaneously throwing my hands to my head in frustration, when I heard the announcer clearly state that I was one of the three on the team.
*Cue sigh of relief*, yet I couldn’t shake my extreme frustration so quickly. I had just had a bad day at the Olympic Trials. Needless to say, I was embarrassed. That’s not the feeling I wanted to have while qualifying for my second Games.
That night I experienced just about every emotion that exists. I went through sadness and disbelief, feelings of being lost and hopeless, then anger and rage at myself. I finally fell asleep at 3 am and woke up a few hours later to the videos of my jumps. My dad had texted them to me. I hadn’t wanted to even look at them after the meet because I was so angry and upset, but after I collected my mess of a brain, I took a solid look.
I found hope.
Seeing the videos helped me realize the reality - that my approach was better than it had been in weeks, and it really comes down to the fact that the poles were just too small. That’s it. I just needed to trust the feeling that my run was good and go up poles even in warm ups, but at the time I didn’t recognize that, and I didn’t go up. I started on my small pole.
So here I am three days later, and I feel like a completely different person than Saturday night. I have had time to process my emotions, endure the roller coaster, then watch my jumps with a technical eye. I am so close to being “myself” again, I just have to stay the course.
I am determined. I am going to pick up where I left off on that third and final attempt at the Olympic Trials. I am going to push forth and forge my own path. I had a bad day at the Olympic Trials, and I was still lucky enough to snag the 3rd spot to Tokyo. That was written in the stars, and I can’t help but feel it happened for a reason. I am meant to compete in Tokyo - even the stars believe it to be so, and I’m not about to waste this chance I was just handed.
Have you ever caught a shooting star? Me either. But I’m going to try. 💫
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Prompt 11: Camp Fire
@felixmonth
Marinette turned a stick in her hand with narrow eyes. Was it big enough? It felt big enough, but it also felt damp. Would it light?
She shook her head and tossed the stick aside. There was no point in taking wood that might help their fire. She had plenty more sticks to choose from.
The search continued until she had gotten a hefty amount of sticks piled up in her arms. Then she started trotting off to find Alya again. She only got a few steps in, however, when she nearly ran into someone else.
“Woah!” The other person yelped, taking a step back to avoid a collision.
“Oh- sorry!” Marinette apologized, backing up as well. It was hard to see under the cloak of darkness, let alone past all of her sticks.
A chuckle came from the stranger, and they moved to the side just enough so Marinette could make out their figure. “I see we meet again, Dupont scum.”
Marinette giggled at the teasing tone that could only be Allegra’s. “Well, we are on the same campgrounds.”
She managed to catch the shadows of Allegra tilting her head back and forth. “True. So where are you guys having your campfire?”
“The counselors are having the fire at the usual fire pit, but Alya, Adrien, Nino, and I are having ours in this clearing we found behind our cabin.” Marinette answered, shifting her sticks so she could gesture in the general direction of the clearing.
Allegra nodded. “Yeah, the boys and I are having our campfire near the lake so we can make the flames as big as we want.”
Marinette laughed. “I’m guessing that was Claude’s idea?”
“Isn’t it always?” Allegra snorted. “Actually.. Would you guys like to join us?”
Marinette blinked, a bit surprised, but quickly masked it with a teasing smile. “Inviting enemies into your headquarters? Are you sure that’s wise?”
Allegra chuckled. “Consider it a truce, then. Until the campfire burns out, we’ll have a mutual agreement to stay neutral.”
“Ah, a truce. In that case, I’ll go tell Alya.”
“And I’ll go tell the boys. See you at the lake!”
~~~~~~
Sparks flew into the air as Felix threw more wood onto the fire, and the small laps of the lake a few feet behind were drowned out by the cracking of the wood. He had to admit: of all the ideas Claude’s had, this might just be the most sensible. Placing a fire next to a lake would be an extremely responsible thing to do if they didn’t do it specifically to be irresponsible.
Allan dropped another pile of sticks down next to Felix. “Here’s some more for you.”
“You know having too many sticks will make the fire burn out faster, right?” Felix commented, picking up the new sticks to throw them in.
“We’ll just find more, later.” Allegra spoke up, immediately catching the boys’ attention.
“What took you so long?” Allan asked. “I had to stop Claude from blowing his panic whistle to find you.”
Allegra rolled her eyes with a playful smile. “I ran into Marinette and invited them to come join us.”
Felix paused mid-throw. Marinette was coming to their campfire?
Allan gasped, putting a hand to his chest. “You invited enemies onto our sacred grounds?”
“We agreed on a temporary truce.” Allegra replied with a wave of the hand. “They’ll be fine.”
Allan’s hand dropped. “Ah, a truce. That’s fine then.”
Felix finally let the stick finish falling into the fire and turned to grab more. So Marinette wasn’t coming by herself. He wondered how chaotic it was going to be with both groups mixing again. Things usually weren’t calm when they were all involved.
Claude hobbled into the campfire circle just then, holding a pile of sticks that somehow went over his head.
“Oh, hey Allegra. Where have you been?” He asked when he set the extra firewood down.
Bushes rustled behind them, and the group looked up to see Marinette wading through the leaves. Alya, Nino, and Adrien followed behind her, each holding a stack of sticks.
Claude dropped the rest of his sticks. “We’ve been breached!”
Allegra stepped out in front of Marinette, holding up her hands in a calming gesture. “It’s fine! It’s fine. I invited them. We have a truce.”
Immediately, Claude relaxed. “Ah, the sacred truce. It’s an honor to have you.”
Alya and Nino both gave a small bow, and Felix had a feeling he would never understand all of the Rosemary and Dupont camp traditions.
“Likewise.”
“And if you’re still worried, I brought marshmallows for s'mores as a peace offering.” Marinette teased, holding up a bag of fluffed goodness.
“Oh, yes!” Claude cheered, pouncing forward to grab them. “You guys are definitely welcome!”
The group shared a laugh, and everyone started piling their sticks onto the fire. Once it got high enough for other campers to see, they stopped and got out the marshmallows for roasting. Felix figured they had about fifteen minutes till the firefighters arrived.
“The stars sure are bright tonight.” Alya commented as she made her s’more. “I always forget how dim they are back in the city.”
Allegra perked up. “Oh, we should go star-gazing! I’ve always wanted to do that.”
Claude gasped. “Yes! We can go to the top of the mountain to do it!”
Felix rose a brow. That did not sound like a good idea.
Marinette frowned. “Is that allowed, though? I didn’t think we could hike at night.”
“It is if we’re back before bed check.” Allan spoke up, a rare, mischievous glint in his eyes.
“I don’t know, guys.” Adrien began, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t they have rules for a reason?”
Felix nodded in agreement. Rules were a good way to create order and safety. Hiking up a mountain at night was dangerous with the wild animals roaming around. Not to mention, they had Marinette, who had an unfortunate habit of tripping on air.
“Oh, it’ll be fine.” Alya- clearly the ‘Claude’ of their group -insisted. “Campers do it all the time.”
“Yeah, and we’re a big group.” Allegra added.
Marinette pursed her lips in thought, then, to Felix’s surprise, her gaze flicked to him. Was she asking for his opinion on the matter? That was new.
Felix offered a shrug, because really, if the rest of the group had their heart set on it already, they wouldn’t change their minds. He’s had to learn that the hard way.
“..Okay. If you guys think it’s safe.” Marinette finally said.
“Great! We’ll go right after we finish our s’mores!” Allegra declared eagerly.
Felix held back an eye roll. Yay.
Chaotic, indeed.
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