#but i wanna imagine it being like a really ragged cloak or something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ticklish-touch · 3 years

Text

I’m With You in the Dark

Last year, I made a poll seeing who would be interested in reading a story about my tickle monster Rags meeting my favorite character in Deltarune, Jevil. Even though I got a very positive response overall, I... chickened out. :’D I've always felt very self-conscious about writing fanfics, especially ones involving my OCs with canon characters. I grew up with other weeb friends who thought fanfic in general was very cringey and taboo. But at the end of the day, as long as people aren't writing about shipping real-life people or kink shit with minors, they have the freedom to write what they want if it helps them express themselves. Ever since last year, Jevil has become a very important character to me. There are hundreds of wonderful creative interpretations of him and his possible backstory; and, as someone who has depersonalization spells, existential thoughts about reality & the universe, enjoys making other people laugh even at my own expense, and a chaotic inner voice that constantly tells me "AREN'T YOU TIRED OF BEING NICE, DON'T YOU JUST WANNA GO APESHIT??" this little gremlin has become a comfort character; one that I also highly enjoy cosplaying. And, frankly, what better year to post a story about nihilism than 2020? 👍 So, this is just a "what-if" scenario, if someone else besides Gaster with some degree of omniscience was able to show the poor jester that there's more to life than just waiting for the Void to take over. And if anyone takes anything away from this, I just want it to be the hope that things will get better. You are allowed to be hopeful, and happy, and make positive connections with people even if you've had harmful experiences with people over past mistakes from either side. We're in this together; you aren't always going to be alone, your suffering won't be in vain. This, too, shall pass. So please, stay determined. Happy Halloween, everyone!! 🎃 🦇 👻 🤡 Story below the cut!

The mischievous Nightmare felt a peculiar pull at his mind as he lurked through the foggy darkness in search of another playmate: A chaotic soul resonating with nearly as much feral playfulness and craving for laughter as his own. But there was something...Off. This mind, this essence, was splintered and broken, re-mended into something different... A shadow of its former self. Joy and mischief and enthusiasm for the world, replaced by existential dread and loneliness...

The silent cry for help brought Ragaeli to a reality he'd never been in: One of the many infinite parallel dimensions to Earth that existed in the endless void of spacetime. At a brief glance, he could see there was a race called Darkners. They seemed to be the joy of childlike imagination brought to life; living, breathing checker and chess pieces, puzzle pieces, stuffed toys and squeaky mallets and lego blocks.

And, within a card castle not unlike the story of Alice in Wonderland, deep within a huge cell locked by powerful magic, a rotund little jester with a black and purple wardrobe was bouncing about, creating myriads of dazzling diamonds, spades, hearts and clovers. He appeared to be an imp with a J-shaped tail, a round noseless face, pointy ears, deep black pits for eyes and serrated, lemon-yellow teeth stretched into a smile as he laughed gleefully to himself.

The Nightmare split open a doorway of crackling energy, leaping through, landing on the indigo striped ground with a THUD. The floor was very plush and unsteady, like the inflated floor of a bouncy castle. "Weellll now, it sure seems like a party in here~ But what kind of party only has one guest, hmm?"

Immediately, the small jester jumped, his head launching out on a spring coil like a Jack-in-the-box. "AIYEEE-!! What, what?! Who are you? Did...Did you escape too??" He glided over to the tall figure, eyeing him over. At first, his lips twitched and seemed as if they were going to form into a frown. But instead he responded with a forced grin. "Uee-hee hee, I see, I see... It seems they've finally replaced little old me~!" He bounced up on his tail to flick playfully at Ragaeli's chest bells, spiraling around him to tug at his flaps, hair and spandex. "Hmmm, not bad~ And you can't go wrong with being a stripey lad; I guess the Kings have some taste after all! But where is your hat?? A jester with no hat is like a witch without their cat!" He glided around behind Ragaeli and his eyes widened. "A hand on your tail?? Now that's just excessive!!" "I must say your rhyme scheme is really quite impressive~" Ragaeli giggled, his head turned 180 degrees to look down at the jester. Jevil couldn't help but giggle too. "Uee hee hee, why thank you, thank you~!" He hovered upside-down in front of the larger monster, summoning a deck of cards, shuffling them up. "The tales must be true, that each suit has two. A black and a red...I always assumed the other must just be dead!!" He snickered, making the cards disappear up his sleeve, then turned back upright, folding his arms, his purple tail lashing about behind him like an agitated cat, his tone twinged with jealousy. "Well since they've decided that red suits their court more, you'd better not be a bore! To replace me is to replace the wittiest of all the players in this castle full of nay-sayers!"

"Hehehe, now, don't get your tail in a twist, I'm no replacement," Ragaeli playfully flicked one of Jevil's bells. "Name's Ragaeli, but you can call me Rags, Ragdoll, Ragtime, Rag-Tag, just don't call me boring, heheh~ I'm not even from this world, you see. Would you believe me when I say there are other worlds out there? Other dimensions?" Jevil giggled at all the nicknames, then his face lit up, his annoyance quickly shifting to curiosity. "Oh yes, yes, I know it to be true!! He chuckled. "Your world, it is a game too? Or is it more "real" than what we can perceive?" Ragaeli raised an eyebrow. "A game, hmm? I suppose you can say that," He smirked. "My world is, in a sense, "Not real" as well. Not to the people of Earth anyways. It's thanks to their thoughts and emotions, their hopeful desires in the depths of their darkest thoughts, that I exist at all. And because of that," His grin turned devilish and he rapped his fingers together in a comically villainous fashion. "I can appear to any of them that I want. I can play all kinds of games with them~ I have no limits to what I can do in my realm, and Earth itself is my playground, a game that will never end~"

The jester listened with fascination, then cackled again, seeming elated as he bounced around in midair. "Oh I'm SO happy!! Someone else finally sees!! There is another who's been set free!!" Then his giddy tone turned to a snarl. "THEY didn't believe me!! THEY were all blind, blind!!" Magic energy crackled around him. "I ONLY wanted to HELP them!! I only wanted them to be privy to the danger, danger they would face if they didn't try to free themselves of this pointless rat race!!" Ragaeli's brow furrowed. "Who's them? Who put you in here? A jolly little hellion like you shouldn't be locked away like this, 'specially if you think your castle's in danger." Jevil quickly shook his head, puffing his chest out indignantly. "It is not I that has been locked away! They chose their own prison, they dug their own graves! The court wouldn't listen, they didn't want to play, and now for their bullheadedness THEY'RE the ones having to pay!!"

The Nightmare latched onto the images flashing through Jevil's mind, learning bits and pieces about the royal court that ruled the dark castle. It definitely appeared that things were in disarray, and the court jester's loneliness bubbled into a well of resentment... The continued rush of memories manifested into the image of a strange entity that came to the jester before his imprisonment: A ghostly creature, cloaked in inky blackness, with large round holes in his skeletal hands and a twisted grin frozen on his skull-like head, a single white pupil glowing out from the cracked eyesockets with a sickly light. Even the Nightmare, who had seen every hellish iteration of fear and hatred, knew that this...thing, was bad news. He existed, yet was nonexistant. He was fractured across all of time and space, yet remained trapped unmoving inside the Void. He was filled with hopelessness, bitterness, egoism, an unyielding ambition to drag anything and everything down into the same all-consuming darkness. An unfortunate victim of his own hubris, now a sociopath with cold disregard for individual worth except the desire to dissect everything and everyone he could latch onto. And it happened that Jevil, who craved mischief and adventure and purpose in his seemingly small role in the kingdom, was the latest test subject. Ragaeli's hair stood up on end and a low, near demonic growl rumbled in his throat. "And what, exactly, did this thing show you?" The growl made Jevil gasp, stopping him in his tracks, looking up at the large entity with trepidation. "H-He showed me everything, everything!! He showed me the beginning, the end of all things, he showed me the truth of this world and all worlds in the cosmos, that nothing is as it seems, nothing means anything, but because anything can be nothing, nothing can be everything--" "Alright, enough, I'm stopping you right there, Lovecraft," In a swift movement, he tugged the rim of Jevil's hat over his face. "YEEE- H-HEY!!" The frazzled jester fixed his hat, puffing his cheeks out at Ragaeli, his tail whipping about even more wildly. "Whoever this Wing-dinged handy-man is sure isn't very handy if all he can do is fill your head with nihilistic nonsense," Ragaeli stuck out his tongue. "Sounds like someone who had a rotten time of it is now trying to ruin everyone else's fun." "No, no, not at all!!" Jevil leapt on top of Ragaeli's head and perched like a cat. "Because of him, I can have more fun than I ever thought possible!! You'll see, you'll see!! They're bringing back the key!!" He giggled madly. "Three visitors, all questing in vain to bring an end to a game that doesn't matter, and once I am back inside their world of lies I will spread my truth everywhere and everyone will thank me!!" He cackled. "But first I should thank you for keeping me company~" He leapt off and glided in front of the Nightmare. From the center of his dark eyes, yellow irises began to glow brightly. "It's been so long since someone has lent an ear, so I'll show you my favorite game~" In a flash, he launched a glowing diamond, sharp as a sword, at the speed of a flying bullet into Ragaeli's stomach.

But the diamond disappeared on contact. Instead of yelping in pain, Ragaeli shrieked and doubled over as the energy shot a ticklish burst through him. "GYEEEE-HEEHEE!!" Jevil looked baffled. "...What, what?? Laughter?" He tilted his head, summoning a spinning barrage of clubs that shot at Ragaeli's legs, chest and sides like machine gun ammunition. And again, the Nightmare was bombarded with a barrage of ticklish electricity, causing him to crumple on the plush floor with cackling laughter. "AIYEEE-HAHAHAHA!!" After the sensation wore off, he continued to let out giddy laughter as he saw Jevil's incredulous expression. "WHOOO-WEE, now that was a good one!!" Jevil couldn't help but snort back his own laughter at the Nightmare's comical reactions, but he seemed even more puzzled. "Is someone ticklish, ticklish? That isn't how I'm trying to play, but it makes things interesting, needless to say~" He giggled a bit. "But then...How am I supposed to play my game if you've got no numbers to claim??" Ragaeli shook his head, jumping up into the air to recline as if laying back on a sofa. "You silly little imp, do you really think that's the only way to play with others? Taking this "HP" until they're gone for good? What would you do then when there's no-one left to have fun with?" He gave a pout. Jevil shook his head quickly. "No no, they're not really gone!! Weren't you listening, listening?? It's all a game!! They can come back!! Losing is just a minor setback~!"

The Nightmare raised an eyebrow. "And how do you know that?" "Because the Stranger showed me!! He can mess with the code, he can change--" "How do YOU know that?" Ragaeli barked. "Forget about him, can YOU bring them back??" Jevil shrugged. "Perhaps, perhaps not, but if they lose then that's just how it goes~ Such is the way of this game we all play!" The Nightmare rolled his eyes. "So... you wanna play by the game's rules, huh? How boring."

The jester's malicious snickering immediately stopped, and he stiffened up. Ragaeli narrowed his gaze, prying at the jester's mind a bit more. "What is it you've said? You can do anything? So why not shake it up and take this game into your own hands? If you're really free, then PROVE it!"

For once, the manic jester took pause.

"Think about what it is YOU want in this game we all call life!"

Jevil lifted a gloved finger, unable to answer at first. Then his bright yellow irises faded again. "What I want...?" He lowered his head. "What I want..." A quiet giggle bubbled up from inside him. "I just want them to be free, free with me..." He hovered higher, seeming to vibrate with an intense magical aura, and raised his arms. The room began to spin around the central pole, as if it were revolving around the world's axis. "To break their cage and create a NEW stage, where everyone can play, play to their heart's content!! Free from this kingdom of rules and lies!!" He snarled. "I want them to PAY for making me play in my freedom all alone, every night and every day!!" He bellowed. Carnival music began to emanate from all around them, starting quiet then gaining in tempo. "I want them to say, "To HELL with rules, I will break these chains and embrace the chaos, CHAOS!!" He laughed maniacally, and from every curve of the rounded ceiling, more of his symbols appeared; Hearts, diamonds, spades and clubs, all aimed at Ragaeli, launching toward him like speeding bullets. The Nightmare answered with his own giddy laugh. "Ohhh, how interesting! Well then, let's play for a while and I might just help you make your wish come true~!" He nonchalantly bounded away from the trajectory of the magic, dodging, swooping, teleporting and even dancing and pirouetting away. Occasionally they would hit, and once again he would shriek in surprise and burst into laughter. "GYAAAH-HAHAHAHA!!" Jevil giggled, no longer bothered that his attacks weren't causing any 'HP' damage. "I wonder; How long will it take before you finally break~?" The Nightmare smirked dangerously. "I could ask you the same thing!" His hair suddenly jumped to life, tendrils leaping forward and bombarding the jester's chubby belly, sending electric pulses of ticklishness through him.

"UEEEE-HEE-HEEEE!!" Jevil shrieked with laughter and flailed for a moment before poofing himself to the other side of the room. A bright purple blush filled his cheeks and he clutched his belly, gawking at Ragaeli. "N...NO FAIR, NO FAIR!! IT WASN'T YOUR TURN YET!!" Ragaeli giggled. "You really think a tickle monster is gonna play fair? Now what's the fun in that~?" Jevil huffed and his pout shifted to a malicious grin. "Uee hee hee; Fine, fine, I also won't play fair!! Let's see you laugh about THIS!" With a flash, he summoned a large ornate striped sickle, teleporting close and taking a swift swing at Ragaeli, catching him in the middle of the striped pattern on his leotard. The Nightmare's torso came clean off his legs, not with any blood or guts but with a cartoonish POP. "WHOA!! Caught me off guard with that one, took my top clean off ya did!!" His tone went cockney, and he grabbed his legs and re-attached them as if he'd been de-pantsed.

Jevil balked, then doubled over backwards with laughter. "HYEE-HEEHEE HAHAHAH Oh my stahahars, you're a fun one, you are!!" His scythe disappeared with a flash, a new wave of glee bubbling up in him. "You really are like me!! Your body cannot be killed!! That means you can stay here and play as long as we want!! I'm so THRILLED!!" He laughed with jubilation and raised his arms, and from the walls emerged a bizarre set of carousel horses, with the bodies of rubber ducks, all of which began to circle rapidly around the room. "Go ahead, hop on~! But better watch out, these horsies have a mean bite~"

The Nightmare snickered and dove into a cartwheel, throwing himself onto the back of one of the figures, which tried to toss him off like a bucking bronco. "Piece of cake, I've wrangled a few horsies in my d-AAGH!!" He was swiftly knocked off by a flying duck ramming him at full force, sending him careening into the spinning walls of the room. He bounced off of the squishy surface and lay crumpled in a heap, cracking up with hyena-like hysterics. Jevil, too, giggled hysterically at his opponent's prat-fall. It felt so grand to finally have someone to play with again!!

And so, their antics continued. Jevil came at Ragaeli with everything he had, and the Nightmare almost effortlessly parried it away with his meaty hands or flexible limbs. As Jevil revealed more and more tricks up his sleeve, from his ability to shapeshift into his own scythe, to a downright unfair barrage of clover-shaped bullets, Ragaeli revealed that his tail could multiply into three, which crackled with red sparks; They lunged forward and managed to ensnare the manic jester, slithering against his round belly and backs of his knees, even slipping one of his shoes off to entwine their prongs between his clawed toes. "AIYEEE-HEEHEEEE UEE-HEEHEE NOOOHOHOHOOO-HEEHEE!!" The ticklish shock to his system surprised the jester enough that his head launched out on its spring coil, before retreating back for him to grab the ends of his hat and hide his flushed face and goofy smile.

The Nightmare snickered fiendishly at his reactions. "What's wrong~? Surely the court-appointed master of laughter can handle a little tickling?" The playful taunting just flabbergasted the thrashing imp all the more. Not because he hated it; but because he, the clever jester with an unholy amount of magic energy had never been so easily bested by something that wasn't a physical fight... And on some level, it was thrilling. It felt so good to laugh with such passion; Real, true laughter, instead of a hollow imitation of happiness. Being unable to focus on anything but their game, on the consequences of each other's "attacks", took his mind off the dreadful, existential thoughts that plagued him, and made him think that maybe, just maybe, there was more to his and this world's existence after all...

But in the meantime, it was his turn, and he was ready for revenge. He poofed himself out of the nightmare's tendrils and re-appeared underneath him, turning his scythe into a rubber mallet to send Ragaeli flying up near the ceiling. He smiled wickedly, summoning a barrage of attacks that started to morph into vaguely hand and feather-like shapes. With a clap of his hands, they rocketed up to the Nightmare, burying into his belly, ribs and armpits, slithering down the wide collar of his leotard, trapping his ankles into cuffs so that they could saw between his toes and whirl against his soles like fuzzy sawblades. The onslaught caused the monster to howl and screech with hysteria, thrashing and swatting at the symbols in vain. "GYEEEE-HEHEHEHEHEH WHY Y-YOHOHOHOUUU-HAHAHAHA~!!" Jevil giggled devilishly. "Uee-heeheee, what's wrong, what's wrong~? You're the Tickle Monster, are you not? Or were you lying all along? Can't handle being at the wrong end of your own fiendish plot~?" Ragaeli snarled in his laughter, attempting to swat at the jester with his tails. "GRAAHH-HAHAHAH SH-SHUHUHUHUT UHUHUP YOU L-LIHIHITTLE-!!" And yet, despite his protests at the unbearable attack, the Nightmare's laughter, too, resonated with excitement and elation. It echoed through the vast cell, emanating with such unbridled joy and wild abandon that it stirred something inside of Jevil. Something...Warm, and oddly reassuring. And finally, from the depths of the jester's scrambled mind, memories started to return to him...

He once knew laughter as well, and more than that, making others laugh. The four Kings, laughing at his antics in the court; young Rudinns and Jigsawrys and a baby Clover, all laughing gleefully at his dazzling displays of card symbols, dancing ribbons and fireworks. The dancers in the halls laughing as the court jester pulled prank after prank on the uptight dolt Rouxls Kaard. The Spade King, telling him how eager he was for his son to be born, so that Jevil could teach him how to spread joy through the kingdom. And Seam, his dear friend, letting out a rare gem of laughter whenever he said a silly joke or snuck up on the wooly cat and tickled his sides...

Before long, Jevil's magic was no longer set to kill mode; a fact that wouldn't have affected the reality-bending Nightmare made of laughter either way, but others caught in the crossfire would no longer be in danger of a "game over". His will began to shift, and now his projectiles were imbued with the overwhelming urge to make their target crumble into a heap of elated laughter. Perfect. Ragaeli grinned gleefully, snapping his fingers and poofing himself out of the hold of the magic symbols, standing to face Jevil, folding his arms behind his head. "Well now, seems like something's getting through to that polyvinyl noggin of yours--" That brief moment was all Jevil needed to re-appear behind him, lunging to rapidly scribble his fingers and prod his tail along Ragaeli's belly, snickering to himself. "You so easily let your guard down!! I thought I was the clown!!" "GYAA-HAHAHAHA!! TH-THAT WAS ON PURPOHOHOSE!!" Ragaeli slithered his pronged tail up to scribble against Jevil's 'neck' and pointy ears, sending him flying back on his spring-coil with a yowl.

Jevil wasn't sure how long their game went on. Minutes, hours, days? Time never meant much of anything in his personal freedom; But now, he never wanted it to end. If those three adventurers did ever come back with the key, this would be quite the sight to walk in on... Before long, though, the jester's 'attacks' were weakening, and his large tongue hung out with panting breaths; it became harder for him to levitate, or to tap out from the tickle monster's ruthless attacks; Ragaeli could sense his growing fatigue and eventually stopped, letting Jevil collapse to the bouncy floor.

"H-Hee-hehehe...That was fun, fun!! But enough is enough, you tired me up!" He giggled, but his grin turned to a pout. "But I don't want to sleep yet, I still want to play with everyone, everyone..." "Ohh, I think that can be arranged~" Ragaeli's hand sparked and crackled with magic, making Jevil instinctively squeak and flinch. But he shook his head. "Hehe, don't be worried~ This will give your energy back." But he closed his fist and extinguished the magic. "But hear me out first. If you play to take away everyone's HP, they won't want to play with you. They'll just put you down here again." Jevil snorted and folded his arms. "Well at least I wouldn't be caged in their prison again, again..." Ragaeli could still sense negative thoughts plaguing his mind.

Not real. Meaningless. Trapped. Just a game. Not wanted, not needed. Afraid of me. They'll leave me again, again. Seam will leave me again.

At the very least, these thoughts weren't as loud as before, and were being dulled by the hope that perhaps he could be welcomed back by everyone... Ragaeli narrowed his gaze and snuck his hair tendrils over to prod along his round belly and sides again. "UEEE-HEEEHEEE!!" He rolled over to the other side, hiding his flushed face again. "Heheh, come on now, no need to hide that face every time I get a laugh outta you~" He managed to tug the jester's hat off, revealing short, dark curly hair and a small pair of horns. Jevil gasped, his eyes going wide and he reached over frantically trying to grab his hat back. "HEYY!! Just because you forgot yours doesn't mean mine's up for grabs!!" Ragaeli chuckled. "Relax, you'll get it back, if you listen to me first. There's no use letting those thoughts get in the way of your fun, now is there? Even if you live your life 'confined' with the others, at least you'd still have playmates, right? You still have the chance to make amends and show your friends you're not going to let your story end. ...See, now I've been hangin' around you too long. You're turning me into a natural poet~" The sulky jester couldn't help but snicker. "Even if I did, even if they want to be my friend, I can never see this world the same way again, again..." He trembled. "The vision, the prophecy... The skies will darken, the world will crack, the calamity will sweep away all in it's path...No matter how many broken bonds we try to mend; Whether we play or flee, everything will end!!" He choked back a wail, hiding his face in his palms, his pointy ears drooping back.

Ragaeli rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, scratching his head thoughtfully for a moment. "Look; Of course things aren't gonna be the same. Of course things end someday. That's the point of LIVING!" The Nightmare barked and jumped up, causing another loud THUD as he stooped over on his haunches like an agitated mountain lion. "You change and you grow and you LIVE, despite how tiny or messed up you think your existence is. You CHALLENGE anything or anyone who tries to tell you that you can't find your way outta that dark tunnel. Fake? Real? Who CARES?? You're HERE! Your life is only meaningless if YOU choose to live it without meaning!!" Jevil peeked out from under his hands as the deity ranted. He then scoffed, taking his tail and fiddling with it as he avoided Ragaeli's eye contact. "That's easy enough for you to say. Your existence, your world, isn't made to be a game for OTHERS to play."

Ragaeli calmed down a little, patting his hair sympathetically and tweaking one of his horns. "Listen, Jev-In-The-Box. You're right about one thing. You can't change the circumstances that brought you into being. And sometimes, that really sucks." He frowned. "It sucks for those little mortals who have such little control over the society that keeps 'em prisoner. And even for someone like me...I can't change the fact that I come from a world that wouldn't exist without mortals. Any Nightmare can disappear in the blink of an eye if they aren't remembered by enough people." "Really..??" Ragaeli nodded. "That's why some of 'em try so hard to be remembered, even if it means playing with humans like cats torturing mice before they eat 'em. And I can't make them value life. But I also can't let them freely roam the world that imagined us up, or reality as we know it would fall apart. I can't even stay in other timelines or realities too long or I risk fading away for good." Jevil listened curiously, a hint of a concerned frown crossing his face. The deity shrugged. "So I just make the best of it, y'know? I have fun showing other people that their world isn't as small and hopeless as they think." The thoughtful expression left the entity's face as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a devilish grin. "So YOU had better not let me catch you moping about in those gloomy thoughts of yours again," he poked Jevil's plush belly, making the jester squeal and bat his hand away. The Nightmare snickered. "And if I see you trying to end other people's game instead of finding ways to make laughter and excitement a part of your reality... Then I WILL be back, and I'll show you what it really means to be ticklish~" He narrowed his gaze and cracked his knuckles loudly, his body emanating with an aura of electric energy, his hair tendrils raising into the air like cobras poised to strike, wriggling their fingers and forming into bristles.

Jevil shrieked and quickly scrambled back. "YEEEP-!! ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALREADY, I GET IT I GET IT!!" The jester first pouted at being told what to do. But something about the strange monster's words...Felt to be true.

Ragaeli chuckled, his hair calming back down. "Of course, that doesn't mean there's no fun to be had in a bit of harmless chase," he flashed a devious grin. "You can make them pay, without making them go away, so that way you can all play again and again~ The eventual catch can be the best pay-off of all~" The implication of the tickle monster's words started to sink in. A Grinch-like smile started to spread across the imp's face as terrible schemes came to his mind. He could play a game of 'Surrender' with anyone, anytime, and they wouldn't have to lose their HP over it. It could be one big game of hide-and-tickle, or tickle tag, or a test of endurance, or another way for the King to interrogate outsiders about Lightners... Sensing that his thoughts had changed their tune, Nightmare gave him back his hat...And transferred a surplus of magic energy fueled by laughter, adrenaline and mischief to replenish his strength.

Jevil gasped as if surfacing for a breath of fresh air, then giggled and sprung to his feet. "Fine, you've won me over, I hope you're happy! But I think we'll have to wait until the Lightners return with that key. Once they do, I'll wreak havoc in that boring little prison of theirs and this Joker will be the one to have the last laugh~!" He giggled fiendishly and rubbed his hands together, bouncing impatiently in place.

Ragaeli smirked. "Hehe, no need to wait for a key. Prisoners break themselves out all the time, so why not just break in~?" He hopped over to the door, grasped his large hand around the bars, his hand emanating with crackling magic again... And the lock popped open with a click. Jevil went slack-jawed. "Wowee!! You really are strong! I can't even best Seam's magic enchantments at full strength!" he then cleared his throat. "That isn't to say I couldn't have broken in all along. I just didn't want to is all," he shrugged and stuck his tongue out. "So now it's time to say...SO LONG!!" He cackled maniacally and shot like a bullet out of the door.

When he flung himself from inside the cell, he saw the three travellers from earlier, now gawking up at him incredulously. "W-What the-?!" Susie and Ralsei's eyes went wide. Jevil instantly pounced them, rapidly bombarding them with scribbling fingers, rapid pokes and his tail slithering between their limbs. Shrieks of startled laughter answered him, even from the quiet, stoic one. They were too preoccupied with trying to flail away to notice the jester snatch the key out from under their noses. As soon as he had it, he stopped and hovered above them. Susie panted for a minute. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?! I'LL KILL YOU FOR THAT!!" she snarled, brandishing her axe. "H-How did you get out?!" Ralsei questioned. "I thought you needed the key??" Jevil merely answered with a wild grin, focusing his power in his hands until the key sparkled and crackled with his magic...And shattered into hundreds of tiny shards. Without another word, he rocketed up the winding stone steps, laughing incomprehensibly. "WH...WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" Susie shouted. "I don't...think that was supposed to happen..." Ralsei scratched his head through his hat. Kris just shrugged, and Susie grumbled. "We went through all that shit just to get the key and he didn't even NEED it!! I'm getting real damn sick of this stupid castle!!" She pounded the handle of her ax into the ground, huffing loudly. Ralsei frowned. "Well, don't worry about him. I think it's time we go find Lancer, yeah?" At this, Susie calmed down a little, sighing. "Yeah, you're right. We've kept him waiting long enough. Some mystery prisoner isn't any of our damn business."

It was already too late, regardless of whether the heroes tried to go after him. The jester's second reign of chaos was swift and sudden. He ricocheted through the castle, his manical laughter echoing through every hallway, his bursts of magic visible like fireworks in the distance, his devilsknife and his magic attacks shapeshifting into other "weapons" like giant featherdusters, scrubbing brushes and makeshift hands. At first the guards were horrified that the infamous prisoner had escaped. But once they were reduced to shrieks of laughter and pleading and apologies, and Jevil declared victory before bee-lining to his next target and eventually leaving the castle, the denizens of the Darkner world were left flabbergasted, nervous, and perhaps even amused and curious to see if this "dangerous criminal" would return for more...

Ragaeli watched the commotion smugly as he started to fade back to his realm. "Oh dear, it appears I've created a monster~"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You make your way back down the elevator and stairs. You double-check your items, use the save point, and.... What the hell? The dungeon door is gone! Is this an easter egg of some kind? Did the game glitch out? You check your items again... The key is gone too. Okay, something must be wrong. Before you make the decision to replay the whole game just for the hidden boss, you head back to Seam. Maybe talking to him again will re-trigger the events needed for fixing the key?

But when you go inside the "Seap", it isn't just Seam anymore. The secret boss, Jevil, now has a full sprite, grinning gleefully at the player.

[ * UEE HEE HEE, WELCOME, WELCOME LIGHTNERS! SO SORRY WE DIDN'T GET TO PLAY, PLAY. MAYBE ANOTHER DAY! ]

You talk to Seam first, triggering his usual dialogue about how Jevil ended up in the dungeon, and how the heroes would eventually have to face the Knight. And, interestingly, an additional bit of dialogue explaining how the heroes just missed Jevil's "escape", and how his reunion with his old friend was filled with a great deal of laughs... Talking to Jevil afterwards brings up more dialogue. You ask him how he got out of the dungeon.

[ *YES, YES, I SUPPOSE I SHOULD EXPLAIN THAT KEY. I HAD ANOTHER STRANGER COME TO ME! ]

[ *BUT THIS ONE DID NOT MAKE ME FEEL SO AIMLESS. IN FACT, HE SHOWED ME THAT I WOULD HAVE MADE QUITE A MESS! ]

[ * THIS MAY ALL JUST BE A GAME, AND YOU... YES, YOU OUT THERE...]

His sprite momentarily came closer, his yellow irises seeming to bore right into you through your screen...

[ * -MAY HAVE MORE SAY IN WHAT RIGHTS WE CAN OR CANNOT FLAUNT. BUT I THINK, EVEN IN THIS PRISON, WE CAN STILL BE HAPPY, HAPPY, AND PLAY AS MUCH AS WE WANT! ]

[ * WHO IS REAL, AND WHO IS NOT? I DON'T THINK THAT MATTERS ANYMORE, ANYMORE. ]

[ * THAT SILLY RED MONSTER, WHO LAUGHS AND LAUGHS AND REMINDED ME THAT THIS WORLD DOES NOT HAVE TO BE A BORE...]

[ * THE STRANGE WORDS HE SAID HAVE STUCK INSIDE MY SPRINGS. NOW MY VIEW ON THIS WORLD HAS BECOME JUST A LITTLE LIGHTER... ]

[ * AND I'M CURIOUSER, AND CURIOUSER, TO SEE WHAT THE FUTURE BRINGS~! ]

#tickle fic #jevil #fanfic #tickle monster #monster boy #jester #clown #tickle fanfic #tickling #male tickling #tickle story

17 notes · View notes

snarkwrites · 4 years

Text

sprung spring | cherry? popped. | xavier plympton {m}

PROMPT USED:

First time + permeate + “I need you. Now!” + rock in place + the steady creaking of the bed + supernatural being / human

NOTES:

Obviously, I am so so fucking awful at naming anything. And I tried my best to fuse ‘pre death’ Xavier’s personality with what he started to become before getting murdered and stuck in Camp Redwood. This is just my take. It’s probably not even remotely accurate, tbh. But.. It’s out here. I wrote the damn thing. I suppose I gotta own whatever consequence comes my way.

Fun fact... this is a small peek at a sort of story idea I have in mind that knowing me, I won’t ever write... So... yeah. Maybe if enough people bother me, I’ll think about writing the actual fic I have in mind. Hints of a soulmate au if you squint. Virgin sex. FYI, this is set in 2019. And the concept as I imagine it and would write it if I were to do a fic is a little... weird... twisty... idk mannnn...

WARNINGS:

unprotected sex - with a ghost, body fluids, heavy emphasis on biting and marking, oral / hints of orgasm denial, probably waay too fluffy / sappy Xavier, virgin ! human oc x ghost ! xavier... I think that’s it.

PAIRING:

Xavier Plympton x OFC, Cherie. American Horror Story 1984

TAGGING:

Oddly enough, there’s no one on my American Horror Story taglist. If you would like to be on my tag lists please go [ here ] and put yourself where you wish to be. Or dm me and tell me where you wanna be tagged and I’ll add you.

“You’re not down at the bonfire with your boytoy?” Xavier didn’t even look up from the magazine he was flipping through. He knew she’d be standing there, watching him. The air between them lingered heavily with words unspoken. Since earlier, when she’d seen the soulmate marking on his arm that matched her own, she’d been scarce. If they had run into each other, she’d been distant.

Montana was right. In a few weeks, they’d all be gone and things would go back to the way they’d been before. He’d been an idiot to think that he could just get close to Cherie and be fine with having to let go at the end of the summer. So when Cherie started to avoid him earlier, he hadn’t tried to fight it. He hadn’t gone out of his way to seek her out.

They were literally two ships passing at night, after all. He was dead, doomed to remain in the camp for the rest of time. She was alive and she had so much ahead to live for. Things he couldn’t give her, even though he realized now that he really wanted to.

If he were as selfish as he’d been on occasion in life, he’d be stopping at nothing to keep her by his side. But he wasn’t entirely that guy anymore, so maybe it was better this way.

In the time it took him to come to this conclusion, she’d wandered into the cabin, shutting the door behind her softly. Sinking down onto the edge of his bed, she sat there, staring down at worn floorboards.

“I was. But then I…” Cherie trailed off, going quiet. “Look, before I came here, everything was planned. I was fine with it. Then earlier tonight, Jake got drunk and high and he started acting like an ass like usual…” she trailed off again, taking a deep breath. “I broke up with him.”

Xavier sat up, letting the magazine fall to the mattress. Even though he knew it wasn’t a good idea, he found himself slipping an arm around her. “You alright, doll?”

“Yeah, no… I don’t know. Everything is changing. I wish I could just freeze time. Or rewind it. I shouldn’t have come here, this was dumb, what am I even doing?” Cherie went to stand, but Xavier’s arms snaked around her hips and he pulled her back down to sit on his bed. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he leaned against her from behind.

This went against everything. He kept telling himself that he could handle the fact that the one thing he didn’t even realize he wanted having an actual for good expiration date attached, but today, her seeing their matching marks at last and distancing… It had shown him that he was wrong and he’d been trying to distance.

“No, no.. Freezing time or going back is the last thing you wanna do, doll. Believe me.” Xavier’s voice was warm and breathy against the shell of her ear and as he started to massage her shoulders, her eyes fluttered open and shut. Her head fell back and Xavier’s eyes locked on her neck as he licked his lips. He pressed closer.

“What’s that got to do with you comin in here, doll?”

“Because everything just became crystal clear… Maybe everything I had all planned out was wrong. Maybe Winona’s right. Shit happens for a reason. Coming out here, meeting you, I… I can’t fight the inevitable, not when I want it so bad it’s all I can see when I close my eyes… Do you know how hard it is, being around him, trying to pretend nothing’s changed and wishing it were you?”

Xavier’s breath caught and he gripped her body, pulling her into his lap before he could stop himself. “You don’t know what you’re saying. Trust me.”

“No, I know exactly what I’m saying.” Cherie’s tone was firm and she settled in his lap so that she was closer, pressing against him. As usual, he was almost icy cold. She gritted her teeth but smiled a little, taking his face in her hands. “You won’t make me change my mind. Look… I’m not saying that when the summer ends, I’m not gonna just…. Go off and do everything.. I’m not saying I give up, I just… I’m saying that I can’t keep going through the motions now. I just wanna be free. I want to enjoy things.”

“Babe, you can’t…” Xavier trailed off. She rocked herself against him and he swallowed hard, trying to shift the way she sat in his lap so she didn’t feel him about to burst through the jeans he was wearing. His hands slipped down her sides, squeezing her hips to try and stop her from doing it again.

“Why not? Don’t you want me? I mean we’ve been…Flirting for a while now and I thought that...Nevermind.” Cherie trailed off, confused and shaking her head. Her stomach was churning and she was starting to feel the embarrassment of potentially being wrong. She went to wiggle out of his lap and she made it to the door.

Xavier swore under his breath because the last thing he wanted to do was let her walk out that door. Goddamn it, he thought to himself, don’t I deserve something after all this bullshit?

“Wait, doll. Don’t go.” Xavier pressed himself against her from behind, his hand covering her hand on the doorknob, removing it. He slowly circled the shell of her ear with his tongue as he muttered lazily, “You’re not wrong, okay? I want you. So fucking much.” he thrust his hips against her backside, rubbing the bulge straining against his jeans against her backside and growling when the littlest bit of friction just wasn’t enough.

Just feeling how hard he was already through thin bike shorts had Cherie hissing and taking a ragged breath as she turned to face him and stared up. Her arms slipped up, wrapping around his neck, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck as she clung to him and pulled him down just slightly. Enough that her mouth brushed right against his and Xavier growled quietly again, his hands gripping her hips tighter. Up into his arms she went and he stepped back over to the bed, dropping her gently against the lumpy mattress. He leaned down, pressing himself into her, his hands pinning her hands at either side of her head. “I need you. Now. We just… we won’t think about anything but tonight, okay?” the question came breathy and warm against her neck as his lips latched on and he rocked himself into her, drawing out a needy whine and a few ragged breaths as she nodded. “Agreed.” grinding against his lap, her breath hitching all over again as she felt the bulge in his jeans getting even harder. Her cunt was throbbing. Every single time he bucked into her, she could feel herself dripping a little more.

Xavier’s forehead pressed into hers, his mouth latching onto her lips, drawing her into a slow and lazy kiss. Her tongue slipped out, trailing lazily over the outline of his lips and one of his hands left her hand, drifting down between them and tugging the baggy crop top she was wearing up and out of the way, letting it settle on the cabin floor.

Cherie tugged his shirt over his head, throwing it next to her own and Xavier’s hands drifted up and down her body, lingering on her breasts, pushing them together, his tongue slipping over her teeth, tracing them and then slipping between them to tangle with her own tongue. She rocked herself up into him, a quiet series of urgent whimpers and begging moans making him chuckle and reach for the pull to the lamp on the table next to the bed, cloaking the room in total darkness. His mouth broke from her mouth, working down her neck after he’d pushed her hair out of his way.

The warmth of his breath against her ear sent a shiver racing through her body and when he muttered quietly “Gonna be a long night, doll.” smirking down at her when he felt her legs squeeze into his hips a little more. Her fingertips walked down his chest, toying with the button on his jeans as she stared up at him and bit her lip, giving a soft giggle when she responded quietly, “I hope so.”

Every part of him wanted to follow up with how he’d think of her as belonging to him after tonight, after they crossed this line, but he had to stop himself. He had to hold back. It was bad enough he was going this far. To delude himself -and most importantly, her, about a future they couldn’t ever logically have would be insane. Rather than do that, his hands caught in the waistband of her shorts and he started to pull them down her legs. She got his button undone, then the zip to his pants and Xavier rose a little too quickly, bumping the top of his head on the bunk above him and scowling while swearing about it, kicking his pants and boxers free at the ankle. Cherie’s eyes wandered over him slowly, lingering and even widening a little at the sight of his cock, standing at attention.

The thickness of his length had her swallowing hard and biting her lip as her heart raced erratically. Xavier knew exactly what she was staring at and it made him give a quiet chuckle as he lowered himself down all over again. Only her undergarments remained and those were quickly done away with, falling to the floor and settling on the edge of the nightstand and as soon as she was pinned beneath him, completely naked, Xavier’s eyes roamed over her body slowly and hungrily.

He licked his lips and centered himself above her, his body spreading her legs. Lowering his face to her face, he muttered smoothly, “Last chance to back out, pretty girl.”

“If I were going to back out, handsome… I never would’ve come in here to you.” Cherie admitted, going quiet when he stared at her a second or two as what she said clicked into place for him. He smirked, his mouth conquering her neck and throat, marking her up and not bothering to be careful or discreet about it at all.

Oh no, not him. He wanted tonight to be seared into her mind. If he was going to be stuck here, not able to forget her and knowing she was out there, away from him and living… If he were going to endure that torture, she was not going to forget tonight if he could help it. He wanted her to look back years from now and miss him. Wonder what might have been.

Maybe it was selfish. At the moment, he didn’t particularly care. It was already enough that he was going to do the right thing at the end of the summer and just let her go. That was already killing him. That was going to be enough selfless for him, right there. Knowing he had to let her go and that he’d never see her again, he’d never get to know what might have been.

“Fucking right you did, doll. You came to me.” Xavier’s voice was husky and low as he muttered into soft skin. Cherie took a shaky breath and gripped hold of his biceps, making him stop his mouth’s venture down her body and stare at her. “Just a heads up… I’m not exactly experienced at this.. Any of it… at all.”

Her words had him gaping a little but leaning down, capturing her mouth in a needy and bruising kiss as he muttered lazily into the kiss, “This is going to be fun, then.” as her fingers caught in his hair, threading through.

He reached down between them, wrapping his hand around his length, raising up to guide it along her folds, staring down at her with that devilish smirk as he licked his lips. When he teased the tip between them, he shivered and gave a quiet groan at the way she dripped already. “ Tell me something, doll..” he muttered , leaning down, pressing into her as his mouth moved across her collarbones, nipping and sucking. He stopped to look at her.

“Yeah?” Cherie breathed out, squirming, trying anything she could to get him inside her. She gripped his jaw, guiding his mouth back to hers, her lips clenching his bottom one almost greedily as she bucked herself against him, splitting her folds as her cunt dragged down the length of his cock. Xavier growled and gripped her hip tight enough to leave a handprint behind and chuckling, he finished his question, “Are you ready to get your cherry popped, doll?”

“Yes.” gasping, she gave her answer as she tried again to buck against the grip he had on her hip. She couldn’t, and just knowing that had Xavier smirking, his tongue dragging lazily over his lip as he rose up and then crawled down her body, settling himself between her thighs, holding them spread with his hands. His tongue rolled up the insides, lapping greedily at every drop as she dripped for him. He felt her hand drifting down, tangling in the top of his hair and tugging. “That’s it, pretty girl. Pull my hair. Move those fucking hips.” Xavier drawled against her cunt as his tongue trailed right between it, a broad stripe moving upward to circle her clit one, two, three times. When he sank his teeth into the edge of the bundled nerves, she cried out, her other hand gripping the faded blanket on his bed. Her hips rocked upward against his mouth and his nose bumped against her dripping heat as he inhaled and groaned at the scent of her. He could feel his cock getting harder at just the thought of burying inside, having her walls clench around it. Feeling her drip and coat it. Making her scream his name over and over and over again. When she whimpered and whined and begged him to go faster with his tongue after he’d buried it deep in her cunt, he chuckled and smirked against her. “Does this feel good? Because fuck… You taste so sweet.”

Cherie’s head fell back and she gripped the blanket and his hair tighter, angling her hips upward, rocking against his mouth like he told her to, harder and faster. The faster her hips moved, the more his tongue swirled. Xavier growled against dripping folds as the taste of her absolutely flooded his tongue and wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, he made his way back up her body, pulling her up, crushing her against him as he pulled her into a rough and bruising kiss.

He felt her tense beneath him as he started to sink into her and she whimpered, biting her lip as she looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “It’s not gonna hurt long, okay? I promise.” Xavier’s voice was almost a growl when he muttered the words against the shell of her ear. His hands drifted down, gripping her hips as he sank into her a little deeper, staring down at her the whole time.

“Fuck.” Cherie gasped, “So big.”

The words drew a pleased smirk and Xavier pressed his hips into her hips firmly, going still after he’d buried himself in a little deeper. She tried to move her hips but he squeezed them, holding her still and shaking his head. “You good?”

“Mhm.” Cherie muttered and Xavier buried his cock completely inside, slow and deep thrusts, his hips smacking against hers so hard that he knew there would be bruises. She met every single one of his deep and hard thrusts with her hips, moaning his name and whimpering, clinging to him from below. “C’mon, faster, please?” she managed to gasp, but Xavier continued at his preferred pace, hell bent on fucking her deep into the mattresses beneath them. She pouted up at him, frustrated tears stinging at her eyes because she could feel herself tensing and tightening, just like she’d been when he had his head buried between her thighs and he kept stopping then.

She wanted another orgasm.

He seemed to be hell bent on taking his time. As his cock struck against her throbbing g spot over and over, slowly and steadily, she moaned louder, her voice drowning out the soft smack of their bodies colliding and the slow and steady creak of the old iron bed frame. “C’mon, doll.. Scream my name. Let everyone know who’s got their cock buried deep in that dripping pussy.” Xavier urged, smirking when he started to go a little faster and Cherie seemed to get louder, her moans bouncing off the walls and drowning out all the other little background noises around them. “You’re so fucking tight, so wet. Fuck.” Xavier managed to gasp as he went still inside her, holding his finger to her lips, leaning in to steal a few kisses.

It felt so fucking good he knew if he kept going, he’d explode. Stopping was better than doing that. But he knew he couldn’t hold off much longer, either. And he could feel her tensing all over, practically shaking now, whimpering and begging him to be able to come.

“I’m gonna fucking fill you up, pretty girl. Do you wanna feel?” he asked as he drove into her deeper and harder, his hips snapping erratically as his mouth latched onto her neck, leaving a line of bites and bruises in his wake. Cherie moaned as her orgasm rushed through her, leaving her shaking and whimpering, rocking her hips against his thrusts greedily, gasping for air as she clung to him. Xavier fucked her through her orgasm and right into his own, the tightness of her cunt as it encased his length driving him right over the edge before he could stop. “Fuck… Fuck… here it comes.” he groaned as his cock throbbed, rope after rope of his sticky hot seed seeping into her deep, their juices puddling beneath them on the bed. He flopped down behind her, pulling her partially on top of him, raking his hand through her hair to push it back out of her eyes as he pulled her into a lazy yawn filled kiss.

“Sun’s comin up.” he muttered quietly, chuckling when she swore under her breath but then cuddled against him completely and muttered through a yawn, “Fuck it. I’m too lazy to give a damn what that overbearing woman could possibly have to say when she realizes I’m not in my bed.”

“That’s the spirit, doll. Just stay here with me a little longer.”

#xavier plympton fanfiction #xavier plympton fanfic #xavier plympton fic #xavier plympton oneshot #xavier plympton imagine #xavier plympton imagines #// fourseasonsofsm*tselfchallenge #// tw: body fluids #// tw unprotected s*x #// tw drug mention #// tw biting #// tw s*xual content

37 notes · View notes

justauthoring · 5 years

Text

Corruption of Innocence (7/?)

Prompt: The Capital was cruel. The people there even more so. If this arrangement truly was meant to follow through, Jaime knew you would be corrupted by Kings Landing. But staring at you now, with bright doe eyes and a soft smile on your lips as you engaged in a conversation with your brother, hushed so as not to be disrespectful, Jaime knew he would put all his focus and strength into making sure that never happened.

A/N: This is a little different from my regular updates. I debated on whether I should add on to it, or include a scene from Jaime’s POV but ultimately, I decided against it. This part is solely based on the Red Wedding and I wanted to keep it that way, because from this point on, Y/N’s (you, the reader) character is really going to change and development.

Continue to let me know what you thought. Especially this part. Even though it’s a bit shorter, I am extremely proud of it and really wanna know your thoughts :)

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Jaime x Stark!Reader

Based off of: Game of Thrones 03x09

The celebrations raged on.

As you sat there, next to Talisa, you watched on with a fond smile as your uncle chatted happily with his newly wedded wife. He hadn’t stopped complaining since the proposition had been proposed, and the entire ride to Riverrun had been flooded with complaints. But now, he couldn’t possibly seem more happier.

The entire room was filled with an atmosphere that you just couldn’t seem to bask in. Of course, you were happy. Just like you’d been happy for Robb on the night of his private wedding. But your shoulders were sunken and your smile was just a little too forced. Your gaze was distant and you were quiet, you barely spoke a word.

You couldn’t find the words to speak.

“Mother’s alone with Roose Bolton.”

Pulled from your thoughts, you turn your head to the left, your eyes falling on the same thing your brother’s had. Sure enough, Blackfish had left your mother’s side, for reasons you didn’t know, leaving her alone with Roose. Your gaze then falls on Robb as he turns to you and Talisa with a smile; “I better go rescue her.”

“Your mother is less in need of rescue than any woman I’ve ever met.”

You smile softly at Talisa’s words, clasping your hands before yourself.

“Be kind,” Robb warns teasingly, “she’s finally starting to like you.”

“And I like her,” Talisa assures, “but if she had her way, I would be back in Volantis, playing my harp and you would be sitting over there eating blackberries out of Roslin Frey’s hand.”

Turning your gaze to the front, you roll your eyes at your uncle. “Personally,” you speak up, catching the attention of your brother and his wife. “I think Robb made the right choice.” Meeting Talisa’s eyes, you send her a soft smile, one that she mimics easily.

“Though,” Robb speaks up, a smirk plastered on his lips. “I wonder... Perhaps I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

Talisa’s eyes widen, her lips parting in a scoff as she turns to raise her hand. Robb caught her wrist before she could hit him, a teasing grin falling on his lips. “Striking your King is an act of treason.” You smile at the sight, especially because the two seem so happy with one another.

Your smile, however, fades, when you notice the look in your brother’s eyes. Talisa’s head is turned away from you, but you can imagine the expression is the same on her face as it his on your brothers. His lips curled into a soft, gentle smile, his eyes filled with love and adoration. It’s a look that no man has ever looked at you with, not even your own husband.

Swallowing thickly, you turn away as Robb leans towards Talisa, diverting your attention elsewhere. You set your head into the palm of your hands, biting your bottom lip.

“Your Grace.”

All falls silent at Walder Frey’s call, before a chant of pounding on the table echoes. You glance at your brother briefly, before turning back to the front. Raising his hand, Walder silences the pounding, taking a sip of his drink. “The septon has prayed its prayers, some words were said, and Lord Edmure has wrapped my daughter in a cloak. But they are not yet man and wife. A sword needs a sheath.” Shuffling uncomfortably, you glance down at your lap at the laughter that echoes. Not only that, but the assumption of Walder’s words.

“And a wedding needs a bedding.”

Your eyes fall shut, your assumptions correct. You hate the sounds of the cheers that echo, an almost infection invading your mind. You feel yourself think back to your wedding, when Robert had tried to force the bedding ceremony on you. You could remember your father’s pleas as he tried to stop it from happening. Remember the horrified expression on your sisters faces, especially Sansa’s who was old enough to understand the implications behind the ceremony.

You remembered Jaime, who had stopped it from happening. The way he’d wrapped his cloak around your shoulders, covering you from those leering eyes. And then, when you’d arrived to your room. You still remembered his exact words as he poured his red wine over the bed sheets, erasing all fear you’d had about your wedding night.

“Good thing we don’t have to worry about that.”

Where was he now, your husband...? Not here. Not with you. Nor were you with him. His family had all but tortured yours, killed your father, and he’d stood by them. Knocked your brother out of a window... And just when you didn’t think it could get any worse, you found out he’d been sleeping with his sister. Even while he was married to you.

“What does my sire say?”

“To the bed! To the bed! To the bed!” You flinch at the uproar from those sat around you, their cheers like a pound to your head.

You don’t notice Robb stand up, not until his voice cuts in through the commotion. “If you think the time is right, Lord Walder, by all means, let us bed them.”

The music begins then, the cheering beginning once again. You push yourself to your feet, eyes falling shut for one minute before opening once more. All it takes is one glance at Roslin and the way she’s harshly grabbed by some of the men of the feast to make your decision. You turn away from Talisa, ignoring her confused look as you move to follow the crowd out of the room.

Your mother catches you before you can leabe, her hand wrapping around your arm as she turns your gaze towards her own. Feeling yourself hot, your skin clammy, breath ragged, you meet your mother’s eyes, noticing the concern in her own. “Y/N?” She calls, voice soft in comparison to the ruckus that raged on around you. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you rasp, attempting a smile. You lean into her touch as she reaches to cup your cheek, nodding. “I just need some air.”

“Okay,” mother nods, softly smiling down at you, “But don’t stray for too long. We don’t want to insult our hosts.”

You nod, smiling at your mother one final time before moving to follow the crowd once more. You slip your way past, turning the opposite direction from the rest of them, making your way outside. The chatter continues to echo as you find some of your brother’s men sitting out near where the direwolves are being kept, laughing and basking in the celebrations of the feast.

You wave hello to them, a soft smile on your lips.

“Not one for feasts, my Lady?” One of the men question, turning to you with a raised brow.

“No,” you say softly, “not necessarily.”

He nods, but says nothing further. At that, you turn, heading towards where Grey Wind and Antheia are being kept. You say a quick hello Grey Wind, peeking into through the small slits of the barred window, smiling at him as he howls softly up at you. Then, you turn to the right, you take the bar off of the door to Antheia’s cage, opening it soon after. You crouch down to your knees with a smile, instantly feeling a sense of calm wash over you at the sight of her.

Being near your direwolf, the one person in your life that always seemed to be by your side, always calmed you down. And it just felt natural that she would be the first one you would go to in times of distress. You knew you didn’t have long, like mother had said, it wouldn’t look good if you strayed from the feast for too long. But you needed the moment and you planned to take it.

Scratching behind Antheia’s ears, your eyes crinkle with warm. “I missed you, girl,” you whisper. “I’d much rather be out here with you.”

Antheia mewls in response to your words, her eyes falling shut with contentment as she leans into your touch. For a while, it’s quiet. You simply just remain crouched there, lost in your own world, eyes on Antheia as you listen to the background chatter.

Then, suddenly, there’s an uproar and you swear you hear your name being called. It’s faint, and it’s cut off before the person can say anything more. You push yourself to your feet, turning around at the noise and for the person who’d called your name, it sounding oddly familiar. Like a voice you haven’t heard in a long time. Only, you find something else and it instantly causes your eyes to widen. There, surrounding your brother’s men, are a mixture of both Frey and Bolton men. Not only that, but they’re killing your brother’s men. Brutally murdering them, slashing their throats, stabbing them in the chest, any possible way you can think of killing a man, you witness it before your very eyes.

A gasp leaves your lips, taking a step back as Antheia steps in front of you, growling. Instinctively, you reach for your side, where the sword your brother had given you should reside. You grab only air, and it sinks in then that your weapon had been taken off of you upon arriving at the feast. You’re defenseless.

You glance around yourself, unsure of what to do. If it was both Frey and Bolton men that had just killed Stark men, it made you worry for your brother and mother, who were still inside for the feast. Your gaze snaps the way you came, taking a step towards it, intent on heading back inside, even if it could rightly be your end. But then, there are men rushing out, Bolton men, that make you jump back.

It takes you a second to realize they’re heading straight for you.

The men that had just killed your brother’s men turn towards you as well. There’s over ten men surrounding you, leaving you with no route of escape. Panic strikes your entire body, leaving you frozen with fear as you find yourself cornered. Antheia’s growls fade to the back of your mind and you don’t notice the banging from the next cell over, Grey Wind, desperate to break out.

You take a step back, expecting to hit a wall, only to find yourself suddenly in the cell Antheia had been in before. Eyes widening, you turn to find her now leaping towards one of the Bolton men who’d made a lunge at you, grabbing a hold of his arm with her teeth that instantly elicits a scream from him. Just as Antheia is hit on the head, crashing to the ground with a whine, one of the men step before you, blocking your path and line of sight. The tears in your eyes slip past your defenses as the man smirks down at you.

“Just wait here a moment, Lady Lannister.”

You gasp, the surprise of that name being used distracting you for a moment. Before you know it, the door of the cage is being shut, slamming against the hinges with a thud before you hear the bang of the bar falling, thus locking you inside. It takes you a moment to snap out of your surprise, when you finally do, you push off the wall you’d fallen against, banging against the door.

“Hey! Let me out! Hey! Please!”

However, your bellows fall silent when you hear a cry. Your entire body turns rigid, lips left parted. You can’t explain it, can’t say how you know, because Antheia isn’t the only direwolf there, but you just do. As another whine echoes out, you feel a sob leave your lips, sinking to your knees. “Antheia...”

Everything falls silent for a moment. Then, “kill the other one. Quick,”

Eyes widening once more, you leap to your feet. “No!” You bellow, turning to the wall to your right, where you know Grey Wind is in the next room, banging against the wall. “No! Please, don’t!”

Your cries are ignored. Your pleas unheard.

Another cry, another whine, that of which pierces your heart, echoes and you fall to your knees once more.

The door swings open, but you don’t move. You jump, fearful eyes raising to glance at the group of Bolton men heading straight for you. You wait for death that you think is inevitable, expecting it. Why else had they betrayed your brother if not to slaughter the entirety of you all.

But the lecherous smirk on their lips seems to mean something else.

Two of them grab your legs, pulling you out of the cage as you struggle widely. Then, two more grab your arms and your heart races in fear, scared of what awaits you. One of them, the one who’d locked you in the cell, crouches over you. You fight madly in the men’s grip, staring up at the one soldier with narrowed and defiant eyes, but nothing can erase the terror also embedded in your gaze as you stare up at the man.

Then, his hands fall over your lips, cutting off your path of air. Your struggles increased tenfold, screams that are muffled leaving your lips as you notice your gaze grow glossy and hazy, your kicks and punches becoming weaker and weaker. You gasp, no air coming into your lungs and this unexplainable terror floods your entire body.

The corners of your vision turn black, and suddenly, you realize you can’t fight it.

The lost thought that fills your mind is of your brother and mother, if they were okay, what happened to them. You think back to your brother’s smile and your mother’s kind eyes.

The last thing you hear, however, before your world fades to black, is; “Tywin Lannister welcomes you home.”

Part 8? Let me know what you thought!

Tag List: @bigspacestarheechul - @aeryntheofficial - @medievalfangirl - @fuckedupamericangirl - @greensadmoon - @wickedbutlovely - @5secondsofsomerhalder - @xonlypicturesx - @fmlalwaysndforever - @avengersbabe13 - @reckless-sofia - @theedgyfangirlsans - @seongbyeol - @flightofthestorm - @hostofthefirenation - @fallingintopiecesme - @minigranger - @savvy1303 - @eamesandbellamyaremyheaven- @anattemptwasmadexxx - @tesstrash - @mdgardians - @fandomfan5 - @nicole-lynne - @starkbelova - @secret-jester - @thearachna-kid - @wandressfox - @pancakefancake - @kylomademedoit - @charmies94 - @quinzzelx - @lapofthegodss - @apathetic-bisexual - @nosweeterinnocense - @kerguelenn - @frog-face-wolfhard - @rowenascovens - @theedgyfangirlsans - @nicole-lynne - @harmonywiccan - @red-ghxst - @gentlethunderstorm - @anescapefromtheworld - @la-undercover-latina - @hannahmtrex - @rae-nger - @randomfandommess - @houxbelle - @tesstrash - @yuiop526526526 - @witch-of-letters - @oliviaharddyy

#Game of Thrones #Game of Thrones imagine #GOT #GOT imagine #Jaime #Jaime Lannister #Jaime Lannister x reader #Jaime Lannister imagine #Jaime imagine #Jaime x reader #Nikolaj Coster-Waldau #series #Game of Thrones series #GOT series #Corruption of Innocence #COI #imagine #imagines #my fics

323 notes · View notes

u1tra-v1olet · 4 years

Text

Hot Damn

Summary: George fucking dies and Phil takes him to Hell Court™

(i had so many options for puns for the title-)

(warning: swearing, mentions of death)

~*~

George jolted awake, eyes wide with panic and shaking slightly. A black void surrounded him and whatever flooring was beneath felt cold, almost like water.

"W-what the hell?!" he stammered, his words echoing and bouncing around the... room? He didn't know where he was, in fact he didn't even remembered how he got here! All he remembered was sitting in his friend's speeding car, the sirens behind, and then-

"Hello." A calm voice interrupted his thoughts and he looked around. A man with pale blond hair and green-and-white striped hat was stood behind him, black robes covering his body. George was quick to notice to gleaming scythe in his hand that was just taller than the man himself.

"H-hi?" George replied, putting on a nervous smile. "Uh, where am I?"

"The afterlife."

George felt dread pool in his stomach. "O-oh... So I did get shot..."

The man nodded, a sad smile on his face. "Yes, you did," he said with a nod. "I understand if you need to mourn but I will also need you to follow me."

George nodded and stood up to follow him, feeling slightly intimidated by the giant scythe hovering its blade over his head. As they walked, George noticed the large black wings on the man's back but decided not to question it.

"Hey uh, actually where are we going?" George asked, the shock of suddenly being in the afterlife finally wearing off. "I thought you said this was the afterlife? Seems pretty boring... Also uh, who are you?"

The man chuckled with a surprisingly warm smile on his face. "I'm usually known amongst mortals as the Grim Reaper, but since you're dead now you can just call me Phil. I'm taking you to the Court of Souls, where you'll be put on trial to see whether you go to heaven or hell."

"Oh, I thought you just automatically go to one or the other?" George asked, tilting his head.

"Well for most it is," Phil explained. "But for some people, like you, it's harder to decide what your moral compass is. Small white crimes usually just go to heaven, terrorists go to hell, but a hacking into and robbing a bank takes some more thought."

George was about to ask how he knew about that when Phil put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from nearly crashing into a ridiculously tall door. He gazed up at what looked like a cream colored palace with gold accents and a red carpet peeking out from under the door.

Phil glanced at him and smirked. "Hope you're ready."

The doors burst open dramatically and George was met with a large throne room and 7 people, all of which seemed to be arguing with each other.

"We really couldn't have done this at Pride's place?" a tan man complained, slumping in his golden throne. "It's so much nicer there, this place is shit."

"Language!" a man with strawberry blond hair yelped, eyeing the raven-haired. "There's children here!"

"For the last time I'M NOT A FUCKING CHILD!" a blond yelled from the other side of the line of seats.

Phil fake-coughed in an attempt to get their attention and the pink-haired one in the middle turned to him. He quickly straightened up and snapped his fingers a few times. The rest of the group looked over and seemed to notice George and Phil standing there.

"Oh, hey there," a man with curly brown hair said, waving at the two from where he was laying down. "Nice to meet ya."

The blond next to him gave him a harsh shove with a disgusted look. "Ew, don't hit on him, you're like a hundred years older than him."

The brunette rolled his eyes. "Who gives a shit, we're dead," he scoffed. "Plus, I'm not gay, I'm just being nice."

"Well you make so many jokes about it I can't tell anymore-!"

"Shut up you two," the pink-haired snapped, giving them both a harsh glare. He glanced back at Phil and George, staring at both of them with a withering glare. "So this is who we have to trial?"

"Yup, George Nolfund," Phil said with a smile that seemed too bright for the situation they were in. "He's come down here because he was out robbing a bank with some friends."

He turned to the brunette next to him who was staring at the rag-tag group with pure bewilderment. "George, this is the 7 Deadly Sins of Hell," he explained, gesturing to them.

"Pride-"

The pink haired one in the middle glared at him with scarlet red eyes. He was sat on a golden throne with ruby colored cushioning, and adorned in a dark red cape with a fur trim. A diamond sword leaned against his throne, gleaming dangerously, and a shining golden crown sat on his head.

"Envy-"

The raven-haired with tan skin was sat in an identical golden throne, one leg propped up on the velvet seat. He wore a bright cyan beanie and matching t-shirt hoodie, black irises glaring at George with a scowl on his face.

"Greed-"

A dirty blond man in a lime-green hoodie was sitting in a similar throne, although his was lavished with even more riches and spoils. A strange white mask covered his eyes and a silver sword was at his hip, shining as brightly as the snarky grin on his face.

"Lust-"

The brunette laying on a victorian-style chaise lounge flashed him a smile, adjusting his black beanie slightly. He had a black jacket over a white collared shirt, the top few buttons undone, and a slick guitar was strapped over his back.

"Wrath-"

The blond in a red and white shirt bared his teeth in a glower, crossing his arms. He was sitting on a generic stool that looked to shiny to be real wood, not to mention the various chunks taken out of it.

"Gluttony-"

The strawberry blond look up from his muffin and waved, sat on a throne that looked to be made of various sweets and deserts. A dark gray cloak covered him and he had on a checkered gray sweater underneath, with little devil horns on the top of his hood that George couldn't tell if they were real or not.

"And Sloth."

A man with black hair was slouched on a beanbag, looking up at George sleepily from under a white headband. He was wearing a black turtleneck with a white t-shirt thrown on top, the flame design on the front crumpled and folded like it'd never seen an iron in its life.

"You will be judged by them to see if you go to Hell or Heaven," Phil said. "So I suggest you be on your best behavior," he added with a smirk.

"So what's the crime?" Greed asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Phil snapped his fingers and a scroll appeared in his hands. "Well, George here is from a rather well-off family but ended up being disowned by his parents and turned to a life of crime, working as a hacker for a group of well-known robbers in the city."

George shifted slightly, feeling uncomfortable at how much the man knew.

"Well G-"

"Well George," Pride interrupted, glaring at Greed. "That certainly doesn't sound like heaven material." He glanced over at his partners then back at George. "I say we just send him down. Greed you can take him, he seems boring."

Greed clapped his hands together happily. "Wonderful!"

"I- whoa, hold on!" Gluttony cut in, nearly choking on his mouthful of muffin. "We need to talk more! He's here on trial for a reaso-"

"I say send him down," Lust said, grinning slyly at the brunette before him. "I'll take him in if he seems like a bother, the more the merrier as they say."

"Guys we need to talk-"

"Actually, I'll be taking him, thank you very much," Envy hissed, shooting a glare at him.

"SHUT UP I WANNA HEAR GLUTTONY!" Wrath yelled, making Lust who was sitting next to him nearly fall off his chair.

Gluttony sighed, taking another bite of his muffin. "As I was saying," he began again, giving a pointed look to Envy who turned away sourly. "Whilst I do agree he doesn't seem like heaven material, we need to actually agree what faction he'll go to. No just calling dibs Greed."

Pride huffed, rolling his eyes. "Well I'm not taking him," he grumbled. "He doesn't even seem proud of his sins, hell he seems remorseful." He made a fake gagging noise which made Lust giggle.

"I don't think he fits Lust either," Lust commented, rolling onto his back to look at George upside down. "Robbing a bank isn't very sexy."

"Not Gluttony either," Gluttony added, voice muffled from a mouthful of muffin. "Least he didn't burn down a house trying to make a cake! Actually, 3 houses," he added with a giggle.

George winced slightly, imagining the flames consuming the building all for the sake of a measly pastry.

"Yup, definitely not Gluttony," the strawberry blond said, seeing his reaction. He glanced over at Sloth who seemed to have fallen asleep. "Got anything to say Sloth?"

The raven-haired jolted awake, spluttering for words and trying to grasp reality for a moment. "Uh- I- yeah, did you say something?" he asked, grinning slightly.

Gluttony huffed in frustration. "We're trying to figure out what faction to put uh..."

"George."

"Right. What faction to put George in. You got anything to say?"

Sloth shrugged, resting his head in his arms. "I dunno. Didn't you say he like, robbed a bank? Probably not fit for Sloth then."

"Geez you actually have something to contribute," Wrath muttered.

"Well do you have anything to add dipshit?" Sloth shot back, smirking.

Wrath bristled, gripping the edge of his stool tightly. "You're the dipshit, dipshit!" he retorted, before glaring over at George and making the brunette flinch. "He's too nice, acts like one of Lust's bitches."

"I don't want him either," Envy quickly added, looking away. "He looks... dumb..."

"Then I do get him!" Greed exclaimed, grinning. "Hell yeah!"

Phil smiled that all-too-friendly smile again. "Alright then! Trial over! You guys can get back to whatever and I'll take this one down on under!"

Sloth was gone before he even finished speaking, and Pride quickly followed in suit. Lust waved goodbye before vanishing as well. Gluttony sent him one last smile before disappearing and Envy sent him a glare before following.

"Bye bitch boy," Wrath sneered before leaving.

Greed gave him a final smile and a wave. "It was great to meet you George!" he exclaimed with a smile that seemed almost fake. "See you in Hell."

#technoblade #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #tommy innit #badboyhalo #skeppy #dreamwastaken #ph1lza #philza #georgenotfound #sapnap #fanfiction #mcyt #mineblr #my writing #i stayed up till 2 am goddamn it

1 note · View note

bangtanfanfiction · 5 years

Text

the burning flame → jjk (TEASER)

♢ Pairing: Dragonrider!Jeongguk x Dragonrider!Reader → Fantasy AU

♢ Word count: 1k

♢ Genre: action, fluff, angst - Warnings: Swear words, sexist assholes :’)

⌲ Description: You’re sent as a scout from the Academy into enemy territory to make sure that their king doesn’t unleash another war on the four nations. During your quest you bump into a lone dragon rider, as stubborn and hard like the scales of his dragon. A/N: I really hope people will look forward to this. It’s definitely one of my biggest projects of the year! :D

The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the humid air as children's laughter screeched out in unison while they chased each other through the streets. The scorching sun basked down on the cobbled streets and houses in the capital of Xawhorn.

Merchants, young and old, male and female stood behind their booths, yelling out prices for their valuable stock towards passerbys.

“Carrots! Fresh carrots only for seven coppers!”

“A fresh loaf of bread for one silver, my friend?”

“How about a beautiful scarf for a beautiful maiden, my lady?”

A cloaked figure pushed his way past a blushing young girl in slight annoyance as she stopped in her tracks, giggling at the compliment of a charming, young merchant.

The street market was annoyingly busy today for his taste, having to push through the crowd and insistent sellers that could not take a hint.

But even throughout all the eager smiles and glittering eyes that met his vision, the more fortunate people failed to see the lives of the unfortunate ones. How they ignored the foul smell of waste and garbage lining the alleyways, and the people with rags upon their bodies sitting in the shadows, stomachs rumbling at the sight of fresh wares that they never would be able to afford.

He tore his eyes away from the sight of a mother and babe wrapped in a pathetic excuse of a blanket. It wasn’t even crying. Simply not having the energy for it he imagined if the hollow cheeks of the mother didn’t tell him enough of their condition. They probably wouldn’t last through the week.

Securing the hood covering him, he continued down the Market District with determination. After a few twists and turns away from the main road, he arrived at his destination.

The Courtesan Inn carved in dark wood stared down at him as he pushed the flimsy door open to enter.

The air inside smelled of beer, sweat, smoke and tingled over with cheap perfume. The Inn lived up to its name and was a popular choice among men. Married or not. Ladies clad in scandalous clothing waltzed around the space serving drinks and offering alluring smiles hinting for something more later - for the right price.

Jeongguk pulled the hood of his cloak away as his black hair, matted from days of traveling fell into his eyes. He brushed away the strands and let his eyes roam around the space carefully. His hand never left the hilt of his sword hidden underneath his cloak.

“Hey there cutie, looking for some fun?” A red-headed female with curly hair came up to him with a seductive smirk.

Her skin was fair and cheeks blushing with rouge. The corset around her bosom was enough to give him an eyeful of her breasts. Though he barely gave her a glance.

“Not the fun you’re thinking of,” he said indifferently. “I’m looking for a man named Breen.”

The woman purses her lips displeased, hungry eyes trailing down his form but replied nonetheless. It wasn’t often young men like him entered the Inn.

“He’s in the left corner,” she nodded her head in the direction.

As he made his way to leave, the grip of her dainty hand on his arm stopped him. “The offer still stands, you know. Name’s Amber if you change your mind.”

With a wink, she strolled away towards other customers, hips swaying as Jeongguk shook his head.

Striding across the room, he effortlessly dodged drunk men who roared in laughter with courtesans draped across their laps and giggling falsely at their crude humor.

He wordlessly took a seat across the man from him, who was mindlessly taking a smoke from his pipe. His blonde locks were pulled in a short ponytail at the base of his neck with a sharp and slim face, black beady eyes to complete his snakelike looks.

“Do you have it?”

A puff of smoke blew into his face as Jeongguk simply turned his face to the side.

“Not the greeting I expected to receive,” Breen grinned, a tooth missing on the upper right.

Jeongguk narrowed his eyes. “You know I don’t care for formalities.”

The two men stared at each other in silence for a short moment, only the sound of rowdy customers being heard in the background.

With an exaggerated sigh, Breen reached into his jacket and pulled out a vile. It fit in the palm of his hand and had a clear substance swirling around in it.

“The poison of a Tamaran snake isn’t easy to come by these days y’know.”

Not bothering to offer any words, Jeongguk reached out for the vial held out in front of him only to have it pulled back.

“ Ah ah ah,” Breen gave a wicked smirk, or at least that’s what it looked like. “We had a deal kid.”

He was far from a kid but remained silent.

With a roll of his eyes, Jeongguk reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small leather pouch. The sounds of coins rattled as it hit the wooden table. Breen’s eyes lit up.

“Ten golds as promised,” Jeongguk arched an eyebrow as the man before him gave up the vial without a word, snatching up the pouch in satisfaction.

“It was nice doing business with you.”

Resisting another roll of his eyes, Jeongguk pushed back the chair and stood up - hoping to get out of this filthy place and finding a more civilized place to spend the night.

Just as he turned to leave, Breen spoke up again, his small dark eyes looking at his pipe in feign interest.

“The King is getting more strict with what’s coming in and out of the kingdom. Just a heads up for you, unless y’know...you wanna lose yours.”

He could hear the amusement in the other man's voice but nodded in acknowledgment nonetheless before taking his leave.

Jeongguk was nearly there. Only a few steps away from achieving his goal. And he would be damned if the King of Xawhorn stood in his way.

After all; He would never be his king.

#bts #bangtan boys #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts au #bts fantasy au #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook au #jungkook fantasy au #dragon rider #dragon

88 notes · View notes

tarithenurse · 5 years

Text

All is fair in Love & War - 7

Pairing: Loki x reader Content: Less angst, some lewd undertones....actually it might be more than undertones. What I’m trying to say is that the “do will be done” at some point in this chapter and you might get to read some of that. K? Also...I’ve not done any corrective readings on this, sorry (I know, bad me).

7. Getting into shape

Daily walks with Loki helps rebuild some of your constitution, and each time the god notices improvement, he finds some task or exercise for you to undertake. Although some chores are less tempting, you don’t mind because it gives you something to do, not to mention a chance to understand the way of life in Utgard.

The new task of the day is even one you have been hoping to be given. Standing in the stables with a pitchfork and a wheelbarrow, the joy of working with or near animals is bubbling within you, making you giddy as you look up at the giant black horse. Already, you have zoned out Loki and the conversation he is having with the stable boys in the guttural, rumbling language of the Jötuns – none of what they say makes any sense.

You had managed to sneak an apple from your breakfast tray, hiding it in the pocket of the dress you have been given to wear for menial tasks. It’s a bit big for you, clearly made for a Jötun who generally are of bigger stature. Maybe it is made for a child? Either way, the rough material is comforting to you because it is what you have been used to, and it is much warmer than the flimsy silk gowns which are not made for the winter that is settling over the kingdom.

A soft muzzle nudges your shoulder, making you realize that you have lost yourself in thoughts. Mumbling an apology, you give the horse the fruit and enjoy the loud munching, adding to the companionship by stroking the smooth neck of the beast. Even the strands of its mane are silky to the touch, threatening to sidetrack your thoughts again. The silent exasperation rolls through your lungs, then you begin the work.

Once upon a time when life was normal, you had become the one to tend to the larger animals of the little village although they were not shared property. But the three cows, one donkey, two mules, and a score sheep and goats mixed were easier tended to in a single herd, allowing more villagers to work at the quarry or tend to other tasks benefitting everyone in the tight-knit community. All hands were needed. From a young age, you spend full days in the pastures before the new enclosure stood finished, and after that your time was divided between the animals and seasonally dependant chores. You grew confident in the much larger beasts presence, learned to understand their behaviour as easily as if they spoke to you.

“Come on now,” you mumble to your new companion while nodding at the wet hay below the enormous hooves, “you don’t wanna step in that, do you?”

A huff and shameful shake of the mane provides the answer, and a nod to another corner of the stall is enough to get the stallion moving. He’s so gentle. Patting the creature as a way of showing your appreciation, you resume the work of cleaning out the dirty bedding.

Side-eyeing the black horse, you keep talking gently to him. “What do I even call you, huh? Can’t just call you any silly ol’ name…”

“His name is Magni.”

Maybe you manage to hide how the voice startles you. You hope so. There is no reason to look for who is answering you because even if you had not recognized Loki’s soft tone, there is still only one other who speaks your language. How long has he been standing so close, watching?

“Magni.” You stroke the horse’s flank before dumping the last pitchforkful into the wheelbarrow.

“One of the boys will take it from here.” Loki announces.

The secretive curl in his voice is slightly unsettling, creating a cool seed of worry in your guts that grows and begins to bloom as you follow the king of Jotunheim through the courtyard and out the heavy gates.

It is the first time you set foot outside the castle grounds during the day, and even the view from your chambers have not prepared you for the endlessness of the landscape on this side of the old fortress. Standing on top of a giant hill, the landscapes fall away in rolling waves of faded green dotted with shrubs and ragged cliffs on which lichen grow. Here and there is a birch tree, naked against the cold winds that flattens grass and whirls leaves towards the grey clouds that are hanging heavily above. Further off are the rivers and dark woods of evergreens. Whoah.

“Yes, it may appear a harsh or even unforgiving land to most, but I find Jotunheim holds a beauty best appreciated in the changing of the seasons.”

The comment could have been meant as bragging. It’s not. There might be a lot to learn about him because, truth be told, nothing you had been told had turned out to be right. Months around him had not proven quite as fruitful in terms of getting to know him as you had hoped, and yet…Oh! No! Not going there again! A warm knot is already forming in the pit of your belly, matched only by another heat in your cheeks. You don’t want to look over at him, nervous he might be watching you for any reactions. He may be an enigma to you, however, a suspicion that the god is able to read your mind is increasingly prevalent. He is in your mind, under your skin, appearing in dreams that have no business appearing let alone starting an aching need between you legs. So now you stand beside him, looking over the rolling hills of this wild, rugged kingdom and knowing that you cannot escape even if you tried because this world is an unforgiving one.

Outside the shielding walls of the keep, nothing keeps the wind away. Tearing at you clothes and hair, it sends a chill into your bones and a shiver is setting in.

“Here.” Loki wraps a cloak around your shoulders and fastens the clasp under your chin. “It is time you learn about the area.”

It is wonderful to be out and about despite the slight worry that creeps in as the two of you move away from the solid structure that has been your prison for soon two seasons. Thoughts are racing through your head, analyzing everything about the situation and any potential reasons might have for taking you out here. Kill me? No, he would not have a problem doing that at the keep, he has proven that before. Imprison me elsewhere? That would be impractical, considering how much time the tall man spends in your company. Have his way with me? The idea does not scare you as much as you do (that does frighten you, though), but either way it is still just as unlikely as murdering you. Each idea becomes more and more farfetched, granting you no peace. This is how it has been since Loki came back and practically saved you. Was that planned? Nothing in your world is right anymore, fueling a desperate determination to find out what is going on then. Maybe, as things begin to make sense, the strained tension will dissipate.

Rounding the top of the hill brings the forest visible from you windows into view. An arm is stretching for the keep and it is towards that that Loki now strides, his long legs carrying him so fast that you sometimes have to run a little bit to keep up – not that you are sure you really want to, but being left alone in a distinctively different land than your own is not anything you want either.

By the time you reach the trees, the first snowflakes of the winter are floating down from the leaden clouds to settle in your hair, on the cape. On the mosses that carpet the forest floor in shades not unlike Loki’s eyes when they flicker darkly each time they travel over your form. No, wait, I wasn’t going to think like that! Leafless birch and rowan are replaced by the spruce and fir that shield better from the cold but strengthens the shadows until the two of you are walking in perpetual dusk. It is all too easy to imagine the dangerous creatures roaming the woods, and it urges you to stay closer to the god leading the way. Thankfully, he has slowed down.

It feels like hours before he finally stops, making you bump into him because you no longer have been paying attention. For a second, you freeze with fear of what Loki will do as he reaches out to you, but he only wraps an arm around your waist to pull you into his lap as he sits. There is no part of your body that does not ache. Knees are weak. Finally. Looking around, you see the seat is simply a large, flat stone placed almost perfectly in a circle of taller granites shaped by rough carvings. Old figures are staring down with empty eyes below horns that turn into ridges creating swirling patterns adorning their naked bodies. Naked bodies with surprisingly detailed…parts. Though you are no virgin, it still makes you blush.

“Makes one think, does it not?” Loki asks playfully, his hand drifting to your thigh, and you watch it with apprehension. “These are ancient carvings made by the ancestors of the Jötun. My people.”

Before your very eyes, the hand of the god changes. Transforms. The fingers grow a bit longer…or maybe it is the entire hand that grows? It does not matter, though, because there are other alterations: skin grows blue like cobalt and dark lines appear before rising into ridges. For a moment, your eyes flash to the crude statues then back to find that the nails now are black and claw-like.

“Look at me, [Y/N].” Loki begs softly.

A deep breath steels you, making it possible to turn to face the Jötun. There are no horns adorning his brows though the ridges are a bit more prominent. His eyes. Black pupils in an endless see of dark red. Orbs of blood. I’ve seen this before. Vague memories attempt to claw back to the surface, but they do not bring the same terror that you once associated with Loki’s strange nature. Instead, you find him strikingly handsome. Every trait that have haunted your dreams as forbidden desires are enhanced, mixing with a raw tenderness as he exposes what must be his true form to you.

A small frown fails to wrinkle the ridges on his forehead. “You do not fear me?”

“I’m sure you can be…ermm…scary like a monster if angered, but…” You hesitate in order to make sure. “No…I don’t fear you because of…this…” With a vague wave of a hand, you gesture his appearance.

Watching his lips curl in a smile adds to the confusion in your body. He looks truly happy, reminding you of how rarely you have seen joy in his eyes. Your hand cups his face before you know it, the thumb stroking a chiseled cheekbone. This is his real form. It should be frightening, as he suspected. The reaction is far from that, instead showing itself as a warm knot in the pit of your belly and an insistent tugging at your heartstrings.

I should know better. The words are meaningless. Stretching, you brush your lips against his. Heat meeting cold and your breaths mingling as the kiss deepens. Loki inhales sharply when you run your fingers through the dark strands to pull him closer, and you grab the opportunity to slip your tongue in.

He has you straddling him soon enough. Blue and, to you, normal coloured hands are tugging at clothes, searching for skin to mark and explore in any way possible. More. The aching need between you legs is back, followed by a dampness that begs for contact and has you fumbling with belts and buckles to free his manhood until he stops you by reaching his goal first. Shivers race through your limbs as long, cold digits delve between the folds, spreading the slick and making you moan breathlessly by the time he reaches the sensitive nub. More. Suddenly, you can only hold on, hands fisting his black hair and teeth digging into his shoulder to maintain a semblance of decency.

You are gasping shamelessly when he finally retracts is fingers from inside you to undo his belt. More.An insatiable craving is eating away at you as you watch him free his cock (also blue and with smaller ridges tracing spiral patterns along the shaft), and you have your hands wrapped around it as soon as you can. Exploring. Pumping gently until his head falls back and he groans softly. More. Nimble and determined, you reposition yourself to slide him in. Slowly. The cold of his erection soothing the stretch.

88 notes · View notes

wordsofasinner · 7 years

Text

Ahmita

It was a silent night at Lake Narr, the largest lake in the southern region of Cumber’re, where the woods met the mountains. Mist hovered over the lake leaving it nearly invisible. The only thing to be seen was a fading light where a small campfire was burning.

By the campfire was a young woman clad in leather with a fur cloak wrapped around her to keep her warm. In her hand was the leg of a rabbit she had shot for supper. The rest was on the spit over the fire. Her porcelain skin contrasted with her jet black shoulder-length hair, which only covered half of her face. The other half was covered in scar tissue, which looked as if it had come from a burn. Despite that, she was still beautiful and took her appearance seriously. Her sharp eyebrows had been groomed that way and her lips had been reddened. There was no doubt. Ahmita was a sight to be seen.

She was alone; she preferred it that way. Some would say it was unwise for a woman to wander the wilderness alone. Especially in times like these. But Ahmita was no ordinary woman. By her side was a crossbow and strapped to both her thighs were two crude-looking curved daggers. Neither were her weapon of choice. Her favourite was a double edged dagger, sheathed on her belt. It would be clear to anyone that she knew how to take care of herself.

As her teeth sank into the flesh of the rabbit leg she had in her hand, she heard a noise and her eyes widened. It was a mere snap of a twig, but on a quiet night like it was, it sounded like a tree falling to the ground. It was clear to Ahmita, that she was being watched. She quickly unsheathed one of her crude daggers and threw it. In a split second it had hit the tree next to her observer, who let out a yelp as he fell to the ground out of shock. “I missed on purpose. It won't happen again. “Who are you, and why are you watching me?” her voice was calm, but unfriendly.

“I-I-I, I was lost! Still am I suppose. I saw the light and hoped I would find someone to help me,” an old man said. He was still laying on the ground, shaking.

“Please....” he said, “I'm so cold.....”

Ahmita sighed, “Come sit by the fire old man. Retrieve my dagger while you're at it.”

“Oh, th-th-thank you, m'lady!” he said sheepishly, as he got up, and pulled the ugly dagger out of the tree. He walked towards her and the fire. “Don't get any ideas, just because you're holding a weapon. I already have another drawn, and trust me. You don't wanna see what I can do,” Ahmita warned.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” the old man said, dropping the dagger, and kicking it towards her feet. “Never used a dagger before. You look like you have.”

“Many times,” she said, as he sat on the other side of the fire. Now he was in the light Ahmita could see him. He was a skinny old man with white hair, a beard and brown eyes. Clad in rags; he must have been freezing. He stared at the rabbit on the spit.

“May I?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“Please....I've been wandering alone for hours. I'm so hungry.”

“Fine. Eat,” she said, dismissively.

He eagerly ripped a leg off and started munching down on it. The sight disgusted Ahmita but she said nothing.

“What's a pretty young lady such as yourself doing out her all alone?” he asked.

“None of your fucking business, old man. I could say the same for you.”

“Beg my pardon. It's just uncommon even for the strongest knight to travel alone nowadays. Let alone a woman.”

Ahmita grunted. “Still,” the old man said, “It's evident you can look after yourself.”

Ahmita still didn't say a word. “I wasn't alone at the beginning of the day. In fact, I was in a group of twenty or so. I'm from a village at the end of the forest. We like to go gathering around here for a rare berry only found-”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” Ahmita retorted.

“Just trying to make conversation,” the old man responded.

“Conversation bores me.”

“Maybe it's just this conversation that bores you. We can talk about something more interesting if it suits you.”

“You sure like talking don't you, old man?” Ahmita said, sucking the remaining meat off the rabbit's leg and flicking the bone into the fire. “That I do. When you reach my age there's not much else to do,” he chuckled.

“I probably won't reach your age. Or at least, one can hope.”

The old man laughed. “What's your name young lady? If you don't mind me asking.”

After a brief pause, she finally spoke. “Ahmita.”

“Ahmita,” he repeated, “Never heard that one before.”

“Yeah, well I'm not from around here.”

“My name's Todd.”

“Did I ask for your name, old man?”

“You sure don't talk like a lady do you?” he commented.

“Manners don't keep you alive” Ahmita said.

“Well, I can't argue with that,” Todd smiled, “Speaking of which, have you always been alone?”

“For the most part, yeah.”

“And how have you survived? Especially after the descent.”

“Not much has changed. Things were trying to kill me before, it's no different now.”

“Other than the fact that now, they're more likely to succeed,” Todd said.

Ahmita rolled her eyes, “They haven't been successful so far.”

“May I ask you something?”

“You're going to anyway,” she said, “No point saying no.”

“Before all this......did you ever believe such things...such monsters, could exist?”

“Monsters have always existed. They just took the form of men before.”

“It is true we are capable of horrendous things, but to compare us to them?”

“I guarantee whatever any of them have done. It's been done before by a person.”

“I highly doubt a person could be capable of single-handedly devouring an entire village. And to smile the whole time.”

Ahmita paused, before speaking. “Perhaps not.”

“Have you ever met one?” Todd asked.

“Not up close,” Ahmita said.

“But how would you know?”

“I think I'd know. They look pretty distinct.”

“Well...” Todd said, “Not all of them.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Have you ever heard of the Anatomorph?” Todd asked, leaning closer to the fire.

“Can't say that I have,” Ahmita said.

“Would you like to?”

Ahmita sighed, “Why not.”

The old man smiled, “They appeared along with the rest of them. However, they were discovered later for one reason.”

“And what was that?” Ahmita asked, with fake interest.

“For the same reason they're so much more dangerous than the others. They had the ability to change form. To shape shift, to blend in, and walk among us. Whatever they devoured they could take the form of, and the more they ate, the more abilities they had. They would start small and easy. A spider, then they had the ability to turn into one. To climb walls, to make webs. Then they might devour a bird. Now, they could fly, and see with a birds eye. Maybe after that, they'd devour a cat, then a dog, then a horse, until finally. A person. Not only could they shift into one form, but they could combine forms. Imagine that. A person with the face of a wolf, the claws of a bear, and the talons of an eagle. A terrifying sight, I'm sure. It is said they can move without a sound, and hide behind the thinnest tree, making it almost impossible for someone to know they are being followed.”

For some reason, Ahmita felt uneasy, and unlike her, she said, “Go on.”

“You're correct to think that there’s more to them. For not only can they change into the form of a person, but they can also impersonate them. They have their mannerisms, their smell, even their voice. They're charismatic, they know what to say in order to gain someone's trust. Which is much easier than you'd think. All you really have to do is talk,” his blue eyes glistened in the fire. He had a knack for telling scary stories, like most old folk did.

“Wait....” Ahmita said, under her breath......she could have sworn his eyes were brown.

“Because of their ability to change into what they've devoured, no Anatomorph is exactly the same as another. Each have their own strengths, and weaknesses, though they are few. The only thing they have in common is the sound they make when they're on the hunt.....Tik, Tik...Tik,Tik.” He was far too good at that.

“Well....” Ahmita said, cautiously, “I must say, most conversations don't interest me like the one we've shared. But now you've warmed up, and filled your stomach, I'm sure you'll want to get back to finding the rest of your party.”

“Oh, but it's still dark...” the old man said.

“Yes, but I only have enough bedding for one. So you can't stay till morning.”

“And I'm still hungry...” he said.

Ahmita put her hand on her dagger hilt, and discreetly reached for her crossbow.

“So, very, hungry....” he said, as he leaned in with sharp teeth, and glowing red eyes. He lunged through the fire.

Ahmita shot back, and in a split second, her crossbow was aimed and the trigger pulled. A bolt shot out and hit the old man in the shoulder. There was a blood-curdling, inhuman screech as the old man fell to the ground.

Ahmita got to her feet and looked in horror, as the old man wriggled around on the floor. He was beginning to change....six more legs were protruding out from his spider abdomen. The screeches were getting louder. Ahmita wasted no more time. She ran into the forest, not looking back. She ran fast, hurdling over logs, and running through the foliage. Ahmita wasn't easy to scare, but she had never been so terrified. She began to hear it.... “Tik, Tik...Tik, Tik.”

It was loud, from the sounds of it, the Anatomorph was right behind her. She dared not look back, instead, running through the pitch black. The trees covering the moonlight. “Tik, Tik...Tik, Tik” she heard again, “Tik, Tik....Tik, Tik”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she cursed as she ran full speed. No matter how fast she went, it was right behind her, and she was alone. All alone. Not that it would matter, but there wasn't any point screaming. If there ever was an old man with his search party, they were all dead. But she didn't focus on that for too long. She just focused on running. To her horror, she was beginning to tire, and she could still hear it. “Tik, Tik....Tik, Tik.” It was still right behind her. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry. She could feel the tears of hopelessness burn in her eyes. But none of that would do anything to help her. The only thing she could do was run for her life. Suddenly she saw moon light, there was a small patch of land with no trees. But she wasn't focusing on the floor anymore....her foot hit a root, and she came tumbling down. Falling to the ground and landing in the light. “No..” she said to herself. Her eyes widened and she turned around onto her back, dagger pointed out, defensively. But there was nothing. Nothing behind her.

“Tik, Tik.” she heard, her heart pounding, “Tik, Tik.”

But then she realised something. It was getting quieter. “tik, tik....tik, tik” the sound was shrinking. Maybe it had lost her trail. Maybe it was going in the wrong directing, trying to locate her. She took the break to reload her crossbow, and point that out in front of her. But it seemed like she may not have to use it. “tik, tik....tik, tik” the sound was barely audible now. It had lost her.

She put the crossbow down, and sighed a sigh of relief. She began to smile.

Suddenly! it came out of the darkness, right there, in front of her. She barely had any time to react. She lifted her crossbow as it leaped towards her. But before she could fire, it had swiped it out of her had. Ahmita lay flat on her back, with an expression of sheer terror. The Anatomorph was right on top of her. It's hideous, demonic face right against hers, it’s long black hair touched the outlines of her face. It growled, and bared it's fangs. It's saliva dripped onto her lips. It lifted it's head and looked up at the moon, it's jaw dislocating, it's mouth getting bigger, ready to devour. It let out a shriek of victory, and came down upon her. Ahmita closed her eyes. But then. She heard a strange sound and her face was soaking wet. She opened her eyes and screamed a short scream, as the beast was almost face to face with her. It’s mouth was still wide open....but there was a blade protruding out of it....the tip almost touching Ahmita's nose. The wetness on her face was its blood. She saw its eyes were rolled back. It was dead...

Then, a gloved hand grabbed it by the long, black, wiry hair, and the blade disappeared back into the mouth, and out the other side. The hand pulled it back by the hair, and it collapsed next to Ahmita.

She looked up, and saw him; a dark figure, hooded and cloaked, clad in black armour. In his left hand was a massive sword, with a V shaped cross guard, and glowing symbols on the enormous blade. And then, the blade shrank to a broken shard attached to what was now an overly large handle for the blade's size.The symbols were no longer glowing, and disappeared in the dark silhouette. He sheathed the broken sword.

Ahmita was still frozen in place. She couldn't see his face, but she knew he was looking at her. “Word of advice. When they're getting quieter and sound more distant. That's when they're right behind you.” He turned around and began to walk away. “Wait! What? That's it?” Ahmita shouted, “Who are you?!”

“Thanks, by the way,” he said. I've been after that Tik Tik for weeks.”

“You can't just go!” she said, still confused.

He stopped. “You're right,” he said. Turning around, and walking towards the crossbow. He bent over, and picked it up. “For saving your life,” he said, as he walked away again, disappearing into the trees. “Come back!” Ahmita called, “Who are you?!” but he was gone. And she was left alone, with the corpse of the Anatomorph. Alone once more, like she had been before. All alone.

#Ahmita #fantasy #short story #scary #demon slayer #badass #monster #demon #part 1 #original work #original piece

0 notes