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birdiewriteslit · 4 months

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Hi ! I just love your writing ! ❤️ Also, I was wondering if you could write a story in which the reader is Thalia’s sister and dating Luke. The reader always thought that Luke liked Thalia and thinks that Luke only dates her because she reminds him of Thalia. She shares her doubts with Annabeth who tries to comfort her and Luke overhears their conversation. Then Luke talks to the reader about it reassuring he loves her for her and it’s all fluffy. Also, to add little angst, the reader has been traumatized by Thalia’s “transformation” and beats herself up thinking that it’s her fault that her sister is a tree.

thank you so much! sure, i can do this!!

luke castellan x daughter of zeus!reader

warnings: angst, self doubt, trauma, fluff at the end

sorry if this is bad i haven’t written angst in a hot minute

Your memory of the day you arrived at camp was still as vivid as it was when it happened. You, Grover, Annabeth, Luke, and your little sister were on the run from a horde of monsters, all of them attracted to the strong scent of the daughters of Zeus.

You were sprinting up the hill, breath ragged. Luke, Annabeth, and Grover were ahead of you. “We’re almost there!” Grover shouted. “Just keep running!”

You were exhausted, running for days with no help from any of your godly parents, but you had to keep going.

You looked back to make sure Thalia hadn’t fallen behind, but she had her shield up, showing Medusa’s face to the monsters that were catching up.

“We can’t outrun them!” she yelled. “I can slow them down, go on without me!”

Thalia started to run toward the monsters, but you grabbed her arm. “I can’t let you go. We can make it, please try to keep going.”

“I have to! Aegis will keep them at bay for a little while. It’s me they’re following,” she reasoned, her eyes stormy and unyielding.

“Thalia, don’t. They want me too. I’ll go instead, I won’t let you die for me,” you proposed desperately.

“You’re always doing things for me, let me do this for you. Let me repay my big sister.” She pulled her arm out of your grasp and turned to run at the monsters before you could stop her.

“Come on!” Grover yelled from the top of the hill, Annabeth and Luke now far in front of him. “They’re catching up!”

“I’m not leaving her!” you protested. Grover met you in the middle and grabbed hold of your arm, practically dragging you to camp as you shouted several curses at him. “Let me go!”

“I can’t. My mission is to get you across that border, and I’m not letting two of you die for the rest of us.” Grover was gritting his teeth, struggling to keep hold of you as you made it across the boundary.

You watched in horror as Thalia jabbed with her spear and missed, the Fury’s whip coming down hard and hitting her over the head, knocking her to the ground. She didn’t get up.

The biggest lightning bolt you’d ever seen struck the ground, sending the hellhounds into a panic. The monsters retreated, half victorious, as they only managed to kill one of you.

From the place where Thalia died, a large pine was growing rapidly out of the ground, and a magical force field spread across the woods, strengthening the border you just crossed.

Luke grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to turn away from the scene. His eyes were cast to the ground. He couldn’t look. “Come on,” he said, his voice breaking.

You walked past the strawberry fields with Luke’s arm around your shoulders keeping you stable. You couldn’t say anything. You knew that if you did, you would break down.

Annabeth was sobbing beside Grover, who was leading the three of you to the Big House, where Chiron stood on the porch, looking solemn. You weren’t even shocked by his centaur form. The image of Thalia’s body hitting the ground was still replaying in your mind.

You woke with a start, sweating profusely and breathing heavily. Five years later, and you still had nightmares like this. It was always the same scene over and over. You could never escape that night.

You slowly sat up in your bed, pulling the covers back and placing your feet on the cold marble floor. You rubbed at your eyes, sighing as you knelt at your father’s statue in the middle of the cabin.

You never shared this space with Thalia, but you missed her like you had. Sometimes you would dream of her and you when you were small, and you would expect to wake up and see her asleep on the other side of the room.

You stared into the reflecting pool around the statue, barely recognizing who was looking back at you. The girl in the water was tired, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

Looking up at your father’s carved face, you felt that familiar feeling of resentment. He had never helped you. When you were on the run, the only gift he gave was weapons for you and Thalia to defend yourselves with.

After you were claimed, it was like you never existed to him. He never answered your prayers, and he was never there for you when you needed him.

When you needed help facing Ladon on Luke’s quest, he was absent from the sky. You were forced to return to camp, two failures who learned to never rely the gods for help.

Luke was the only one you could relate to in that way. After that quest, you thought of each other differently. Finding that common ground changed your friendship into something more.

Sometimes you wondered if Luke saw Thalia when he looked at you. There would be moments where he would look at you like your sister was staring back, and he would get this sad glint in his eyes.

You certainly didn’t see her in your reflection. You’d looked for so long to find something that reminded you of her, but you could never find something good.

You had an aggression problem, which was about the only thing about you that resembled your sister. The only people you got along with were your boyfriend, Annabeth, and Grover.

Everybody at camp stayed clear of you anyways, as they were afraid of what you might do to them. Of course, you were more powerful than the others, and they were scared of that.

The day was off to a rough start. You were fifteen minutes late for breakfast, and when you entered the pavilion, heads turned. You were used to getting stared at, so you were able to ignore it.

You ate by yourself, keeping your head down. After breakfast, your first activity of the day was Ancient Greek with Annabeth.

You were reading out a boring passage to her when she stopped you at the end of a paragraph. “Are you having nightmares again?” she asked tentatively.

You looked up from the book. “Why do you ask?”

“You were late to breakfast. You’ve been looking so tired this past week. I’m worried. Luke’s worried. He says you’ve been distant,” she analyzed.

You sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been having them again. It’s the same as it’s always been.” You rubbed your hands over your tired eyes. “I can’t get it out of my head.”

“You haven’t told Luke?”

“No, I don’t want to stress him out. Besides, he probably sees enough of Thalia in me. Honestly, I think that’s why he’s with me. We all lost her that night, and he just needs something to remind him of her,” you confessed gloomily, picking at the corners of the pages.

Annabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise. “What are you talking about? Luke has liked you as long as I’ve known you. Thalia meant a lot to him, but you’re different from her. You mean something different to him.”

“Do you really think that’s why I’m with you?” Luke said, rounding the corner of the porch and making himself known. He had a hurt expression on his face.

“I’ll leave you alone,” Annabeth said awkwardly, standing up from her chair and hurrying away from the Big House.

“Luke, I-“

“I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but you can’t really think that.” He sat down next to you and pulled your hands away from the book pages. “Annabeth’s right, I’ve liked you forever. Thalia was like a little sister to me. The only time you remind me of her is when you get angry, and I’m not with you because of your anger,” he reassured, trying to make you believe him.

“Why are you with me?” Your voice came out small, and you were afraid of what he would say.

He shook his head, taking your face in his hands. “So many reasons. You’re smart, brave, and resourceful. You’re strong and beautiful. Honestly, you could name anything you don’t like about yourself and I promise you that I would love you regardless.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Yes,” he said sincerely.

You took a deep breath, ready to be honest with him. “In my nightmares, I see us on the night Thalia died. I see the moment she slipped away from me and I left her to fight on her own. I’m such a bad sister,” you admitted, voice breaking a little.

Luke looked pained at your words. His thumb was quick to wipe away a tear that had fallen. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Thalia was stubborn, once she got an idea in her head she wouldn’t let it go. You know that. If we let you go too, we would’ve lost you both. We couldn’t risk that.”

You were silent, taking in his reasoning and knowing that he was right. You leaned forward and kissed his lips softly. “Thank you, Luke,” you said quietly, resting your forehead against his.

“Of course.” He pushed a stray hair behind your ear. “Do you want me to sleep in your cabin tonight?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright.” Luke pulled away and smiled at you. “What do you say we go zap some Dionysus kids in the strawberry fields?”

“That sounds like a great idea.” You grinned, already feeling much better.

#birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics #luke castellan #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #annabeth chase #thalia grace #daughter of zeus #pjo disney+#pjo fanfic #percy jackson fanfic

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edosianorchids901 · 4 months

Text

A Spring of Love

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "celebratory hug"

“Ooh, did you see the butterflies?”

“Yup,” Crowley said without looking up from his trimming. He’d seen plenty of butterflies already. “They were mobbing me while I was planting flowers yesterday.”

“Oh, how lovely,” Aziraphale said in his dreamiest tone. “I should like to be mobbed by butterflies.”

Crowley snorted and trimmed another scraggly branch off the bush. “No, you really wouldn’t. It was like something out of a horror film.”

“Crowley, you old silly. Butterflies aren’t horrifying.”

“They are when they cover your face so thoroughly that you can’t bloody see.” After a wary glance around for more butterflies, Crowley moved back and studied the bush. He clipped one more bit for symmetry’s sake, then grabbed his cane and hauled himself upright. His hips screamed in protest about the time spent on the ground today, but it had been worth it. “Now, we gotta make sure we really tackle the horror show of weeds. I can’t believe the state of this garden.”

He headed for one of the flowerbeds, but Aziraphale caught his arm. “My dear, we’ve been working for hours, and it’s awfully warm today. Let’s go to the shade for a bit.”

“Nnnnh.” Biting his lip, Crowley cast a longing look at the tangled mat of weeds. “But I gotta make progress.”

“You have in fact made plenty of progress.” Aziraphale tugged on his arm again, not quite hard enough to pull him completely off balance. “And you can make more after a break. But really, my dear. Can’t we enjoy our new garden?”

“I am enjoying it,” Crowley said stubbornly, lodging his cane on the edge of a stepping stone so Aziraphale couldn’t budge him. “I’m enjoying fixing the damn thing.”

“Well, perhaps you could take a break from that and enjoy simply looking at it for a bit, with me?” Aziraphale put on the big pleading eyes and pouted a little. “We’ve been working so hard on moving in and remodeling and ‘fixing’ the garden that we haven’t had any time at all to celebrate!”

Crowley hissed, and the pout intensified. Well. It looked like he wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. “Okay. Fine. If you insist, you bastard.”

“I do,” Aziraphale said happily. He tugged on Crowley again, and this time Crowley yielded.

They retreated under the dappled shade of some really pitiful birch trees that Crowley was thinking of tearing out. Their new cottage was in a terrific location, no close neighbors at all, and right by some beautiful walking trails. It did have a downside, though—mostly, that it hadn’t been the slightest bit maintained for decades.

He raked a critical gaze across the garden, cataloguing everything that he still needed to do. Weeding for sure, plus more trimming of virtually every bush and tree. Should probably just rip out everything in the flowerbeds he hadn’t touched yet, honestly. They were a tangled mess, and he had so many transplants that he could definitely just—

“Crowley.”

“Hmm?” Crowley asked, mentally planting new flowers.

“You’re supposed to be enjoying looking at the garden with me, not plotting the demise of half the plants.” Aziraphale collided with his side in an enthusiastic hug, and Crowley steadied himself with his cane. “It’s celebration time.”

“Is it?” Crowley wrapped his free arm around Aziraphale, trying and failing to downshift his mind. “Thought we already had that last week when we did the whole toasting thingy. To our new home, so on and so forth?”

“Well, yes. But one hardly needs to be restrained to celebrating a momentous occasion once!” Expression warring between bliss and an attempt to keep pouting, Aziraphale squeezed Crowley tightly enough that his ribs ached. “We ought to celebrate all the time. Ooh, we could celebrate every week! Weekly anniversary of moving in.”

“Er. Normally, I’m all in favor of celebration.” Crowley struggled against a smile as Aziraphale kissed his shoulder. He turned to nuzzle into the light fluffy curls, unable to resist his angel’s affection. “But weekly anniversary celebrations seem a little bit excessive. Wouldn’t have any time to fix the place up if I was stopping all the time for drinks.”

Aziraphale kissed his shoulder again. “You stop all the time for drinks anyway. These would just be celebratory drinks, just as this is a celebratory hug.”

“Is it?” Crowley had almost gotten completely distracted from the garden, but a flash of color pulled his attention back. “Whoops. Looks like we’ve got a celebratory butterfly, too.”

“Oh, do we?” Aziraphale twisted to look, not letting go of Crowley. The butterfly hovered in front of them, and Aziraphale cooed at it. “Oh, how lovely. See, my dear? Nothing like out of a horror movie.”

Crowley smiled at Aziraphale’s petulant tone. Then he stopped smiling. “One might be innocent enough. But there’s not just one.”

A horde of butterflies descended, fluttering around them. Crowley hissed and shook his head in a vain attempt to dissuade them from landing on him. One perched on his nose.

“Ohhhh…” Aziraphale gave a delighted wiggle. “Isn’t that the most delightful thing? The butterflies love you, my dear!”

“Terrific. So, between you and the butterflies, I’m never gonna get anything done again.”

“Oh, don’t be so sulky.” Chuckling, Aziraphale rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder and watched the swarm of butterflies. “They just want you to enjoy the moment, as I do.”

Crowley briefly considered whacking the butterflies with his cane, and decided against it. He leaned into Aziraphale’s embrace and sighed. “Right, right. For now, you and the butterflies win.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #art #ace omens hugfest 2024 #disabled crowley

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fungifanart · 2 years

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I’ll show you true terror

Characters: male!Yuu, Cater, Deuce, Trey, Riddle, Leona, Ruggie, Jade, Floyd, Azul, Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Epel, Idia, Ortho, Malleus, Lilia, Jack is mentioned, but doesn’t say anything

cw: Blood, severe injury, death, decapitation

Word count: 2K

Notes: So, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m also into Twisted Wonderland now and the magicam monsters from the new event pissed me off so much that I figured “Why not traumatize them just a BIT more?”

—————————————————————————

It’s honestly miraculous how everything is coming together so perfectly, given how little time they all had to prepare their own acts, but seeing it happen with your own eyes is truly an experience like no other.

————————————————————————

“P-please! I just wanted to take a picture! I’m not a ghost—“ You cry out as numerous hands drag you into the dirt, covering your mouth and eyes.

“Ssssshhhhh, don’t worry,” A certain red-headed skeleton says as you sink deeper into the earth, “We made this grave just for you. Now you can enjoy your eternal sleep with the others.”

You hear the sounds of screaming and retreating footsteps and take them as your cue to emerge from the ground, clothes covered in mud, “Ugh, I cannot wait for this to be over just so I can take a long, hot shower.”

“Getting tired already? Don’t forget that you’ve still got six other attractions to get to.” The blue-haired skeleton reminds you.

“Oh crap, you’re right!” You realize, “I need to change and get to the coliseum!” You say as you grab your change of clothes and sprint in the direction of the pirate attraction.

……………

“…Are we sure he’ll be okay?” Trey asks as your silhouette disappears.

“I say we have faith in him. I doubt he would’ve made the suggestion if he wasn’t confident he could pull it off.” Riddle assures the other man as the other dorm members come together.

————————————————————————

“I-I can’t move! What’s happening?!” You say from the shadows as a robotic replica of you stands frozen among the other magicam monsters.

“Guys, I seriously can’t feel my limbs at all! I-I can’t…feel…” You trail off as your robot double is reduced to sand in front of the rulebreakers and their eyes go wide in horror, sending them running towards the exit once they can move, but not before they can be confronted by your pirate beastman friend.

Afterwards, you stride out of the shadows, brushing the sand off your clothes to the sound of panicked, retreating footsteps.

You’re approached by Leona as you finish getting the sand off and are preparing to go to your next stop, “I gotta hand it to ya, Herbivore. You’re really outdoing yourself with this little stunt of yours.” He says while sounding mildly impressed.

“Heh, you haven’t seen the half of it!” You gleefully reply as you make your way out of the coliseum.

……………

Leona and Ruggie watch your retreating form from their place in the group.

“I’m still shocked that a bleeding heart like him was able to come up with such a sadistic plan,” Ruggie comments, “And, not gonna lie, I’m a little turned-on by it—“ His statement is cut off by a punch to the shoulder from Leona.

————————————————————————

“W-wait!” You beg as Floyd wraps tightly around you in his eel form, “I’ll never eat unadon again, just let me go—“ The lights go out and your body disappears before you can finish your sentence, leaving nothing, but a lone slime-covered selfie stick on the ground in front of the horrified rulebreakers.

You finish changing into a set of clothes that isn’t thoroughly coated in mer-eel slime as the screams get more faint from the distance.

“Honestly Floyd, did you really have to get it ALL over me? I’m on a tight schedule, you know!” You complain.

“Awww, but I rarely get to squeeze Shrimpy nowadays! I needed to relish it as much as I could!” Floyd whines while draping his arm over your shoulder.

“Fufufu, now now Floyd, I’m sure the Prefect will let you squeeze him as much as you want once this is over, but he needs to be off now.” Jade says to make him relent.

“Fiiiiiiine, but you better scare those magicam monsters good, y’hear?” Floyd says as you rush out of the room.

……………..

“Now why can’t he have this level of productivity and work ethic whenever he works at the Mostro Lounge?” Azul pouts.

“‘Cause this stuff is actually fun?” Floyd comments, earning a smack on the head from the shorter man.

————————————————————————

You use the frantic footsteps approaching yours and Kalim’s location as your cue to cry out, “N-NO! DON’T COME NEAR ME—AAAGH!!!” and push out a robotic replica of your bloody, mangled corpse onto the ground in front of the rulebreakers from the darkness of the forest, allowing your beloved werewolf to finish the job in sending them running far, far away.

Once the footsteps disappear, you emerge from the bushes to high five Kalim as Jamil and their dorm mates approach.

“Very impressive, you two. I’d almost thought the Prefect was actually being attacked by a legitimate werewolf with how thorough your acting was.” Jamil compliments.

“At this rate, the magicam monsters will be gone in time for the party!” Kalim says excitedly.

“Don’t get complacent, Kalim. We’re not outta the woods yet.” You warn, “Speaking of which, I need to get moving. See you guys later!” You wave as you start the trek to the mirror chamber.

………….

“He’s quite the evil mastermind when he wants to be, isn’t he?” Jamil wonders out loud.

“I wouldn’t say THAT, but he definitely gets this cunning gleam in his eyes when everything goes well. It’s amazing to see!” Kalim comments.

————————————————————————

“N-no…Vil…I trusted you…” You say after feigning having your life drained away and falling to the ground in clear view of the rulebreakers and their looks of terror.

“Ugh, I do so hate it when my meals refuse to shut up.” Vil says nonchalantly.

You get up after the next set of magicam monsters is out of sight and enlist Vil’s help in quickly cleaning off the fake blood from your neck.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I do not understand why you won’t join the drama club. You’re a natural!” Vil says enthusiastically.

“Oh hush. We both know the journalism club would be nothing without me.” You reply, “Now, is the blood gone? We’re getting down to the wire here!”

“Not a drop or mark left! You may depart with my blessing!” Vil concludes as you nod and leave for the library at practically a full sprint.

……………..

“Seeing Monsieur Trickster so energized for the task at hand is truly a rare and wonderful sight, indeed!” Rook comments.

“No kiddin’” Epel adds, “Even when he was describing his plan, it felt like I was looking at a completely different person.”

“I suppose that shows how strongly he feels about this whole affair.” Vil muses while recalling how the magicam monsters so rudely intruded on Ramshackle dorm.

————————————————————————

You cry out as the vines drag you into the darkness of the library and later wait with baited breath as one of the clearly disturbed rulebreakers tries to remove the head of the Pumpkin Knight. However, their looks of shock at the knight’s lack of a human head turn to sheer horror as a robotic replica of your own severed head falls out the bottom of the pumpkin mask they’d been holding.

You watch in satisfaction as Idia succeeds in scaring away the rulebreakers and offer some applause as the sound of footsteps fades away.

“Masterfully done, Sir Shroud!” You applaud, “You’ve truly spread the good word of Creepy Hollow this day!”

“Tch, not like I was gonna let a fake fan like that get away. Even if we didn’t have time to go all in.” Idia responds with a look of distaste.

“I really can’t thank you enough for skimping out on your own attraction to help me go through with mine.” You thank the fiery-haired man earnestly.

“Heehee, as long as you hold up your end of the bargain then consider us even.” Idia responds, “I know that I’d be itching for revenge if someone came barging into my dorm like that so I figured ‘Why not give the Prefect that chance?’”

“Ah crap! Speaking of, I need to get to Ramshackle! See you later!” You wave goodbye as you run out of the library to meet Malleus and the others at your dorm.

………….

“Are you quite sure you can call yourselves even, given how late you were up making all those replicas?” Ortho inquires.

“Heeheehee, staying up all night doing nothing, but building robots and programming holograms is a small price to pay for three weeks of one-on-one gaming time!” Idia proudly exclaims as his brother gives a defeated sigh.

————————————————————————

You sprint down the decrepit hallways of Ramshackle dorm with the magicam monsters, being very careful in ensuring that whatever exit you take, you’re the only one to make it out.

Once you’re outside, you take a deep breath before shouting “Wait, you’re—NO!!! STAY AWAY FROM ME!!! AAA—“ you cut yourself off and quickly find a bush to hide in as you watch the dreaded Long himself surround the rulebreakers with a ring of green fire while holding robotic replicas of your decapitated corpse in one hand and your severed head in the other.

You quickly jump out of your bush once you’re sure you won’t be seen by the fleeing rulebreakers so you can commend your draconic friends on their performance.

“Nice touch with the ring of fire, Lostie! I could almost feel it from all the way over there!” You compliment while motioning back to your hiding spot.

“Hmph, that fire was a mere glimpse of the rage I felt when they showed such brazen disrespect for their surroundings.” Malleus replies while gingerly setting down your robotic head and body, “Though I admit I’m still quite perturbed at handling such a striking replica to yourself in such a way while doing so.”

“Oh, come now. It’s all part of the act, so it’s hardly a cause for concern.” Lilia reassures him.

“Yeah, don’t you worry! I’m still in one piece so all is well!” You add, “But that’s enough chatting for me. I’ve gotta get to my final stop before the magicam monsters get any ideas!” You conclude with a villainous smirk before taking off towards Main Street.

……………

“I daresay we’ve seen a very interesting side to Ramshackle’s Prefect today. Wouldn’t you agree, Malleus?” Lilia comments after seeing you off.

“Indeed. Such brutal plans almost sounded foreign when they came out of his mouth.” Malleus muses.

————————————————————————

This is it. You’ve finally reached the climax of your revenge. Your carefully laid out plan has gone perfectly until this point with the help of the other dorms and now it’s up to you to drive it home!

Just as you’d planned, the seven groups of fleeing magicam monsters are converging on your position at Main Street, allowing you to leave them all in shock as you appear in front of them, safe and sound.

“D-didn’t he…?”

“He’s the one that was…”

“B-but does that mean—“

You hear the anxious whispers of the rulebreakers and barely manage to suppress your smile as you begin to speak, “Jeez, are you guys alright? You all look like…” You wait for the lights across Main Street to shut off before finishing your sentence, “you’ve seen a ghost.”

The split second of darkness and silence is interrupted by Grim and your ghost friends letting loose an enormous “BOO!!!” from behind the magicam monsters, sending them running and screaming towards the front gates of NRC while being hounded by different holograms of yourself, some covered in mud, some missing limbs, until it’s just you, Grim and the ghosts at the entrance, watching the rulebreakers make a beeline for the ferry off the island.

A beat of silence passes before you break out into cheers and celebration, high-fiving each other at finally expelling the magicam monsters.

You stop for a second to question whether you should be feeling this elated at the raw terror the rulebreakers were surely feeling, but then you remember how they broke into your dorm, committed all kinds of vandalism over the campus and almost ruined Grim’s first Halloween and you instantly feel better about your actions.

…………………….

The night ends with you and Grim laying down in bed after a nice shower and slowly drifting off to sleep as you recall when you where initially laying out your plan for the others the day before.

You smugly recall the dumbfounded looks on everyone’s faces as you concluded the outline of your plan, “Seeing the same person die in numerous horrible ways only for them to appear in front of you unharmed would be quite shocking, no?” You said with an evil glint in your eye.

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cockslutpadalecki · 2 years

Text

Under The Cover Of Darkness

Summary: Managing to escape Lloyd is a feat in itself, but staying hidden? Impossible.

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader.

Words: 1.2K.

Warnings: non-con/dub-con, explicit sexual content, detailed violence/murder, knife play, mentions of somnophilia, mentions of past drugging, dacryphilia, female masturbation, multiple (forced-ish) orgasms, 18+. MINORS DNI.

A/N: I haven’t described Lloyd as “dark” because that’s legit canon, but consider him just as unhinged as he is in TGM. Yeah, I’m fully on board this sociopath train, but can ya blame me? Major thank you to @sparkledfirecracker for the shameless enablement and to my beta Stacey who always manages to work wonders with my utter garbage first/second/twelfth drafts. Beta: @princessmisery666 but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.

“Michael?” you sleepily mutter, stretching out and feeling cold sheets beside you. Running your palms over them, you panic for a moment, leaning up on your elbow as your eyes blearily scan the room for any sign of your boyfriend. Your breath quickens in fear, but as your gaze lands on a strip of light coming from your en-suite, you slump back against the pillows in quiet relief.

It’s okay, he’s just in the bathroom. It’s okay, he’s just in the bathroom.

The mantra repeats until you feel your body relax, sleep slowly creeping back to claim you. It circles around in your head once more, moments from drifting off when a dull thud pulls you right back into the room.

Your eyes spring open, darting straight towards the slither of light before you call out, “Mike?” again, only this time a little louder.

No answer.

The thud happens again, from the other side of the bathroom door and you sit up, clutching the covers to your chest.

“Mike, honey, are you alright?”

Still no answer and you start to worry. Has he suddenly become ill and collapsed? You wait a beat, ears straining to hear any residual noise— a cough, a retch, a sneeze— but nothing comes. It’s too quiet now. Eerily silent.

Slowly, you push away the covers and climb out of bed, carefully tiptoeing towards the closed door. You’re only two or three steps away when the doorknob rattles and you retreat a little, waiting to see Michael’s face bathed in golden light.

The door opens and golden light does flood into the bedroom, just like you wished, but it’s not Michael’s face you see… It's Lloyd’s.

Light bathes the devil in an ironic angelic glow. A complete oxymoron if ever you’ve seen one.

“Pumpkin! You’re awake,” he smiles wide and you instantly recoil in horror. “Just in time for the main event.”

Stumbling backwards hurriedly, you trip over the sheets and fall to the floor with a loud thud as Lloyd strides towards you. You glance up at his towering form, eyes temporarily drawn to the dark stains spotted across his garish white jeans.

You always hated his awful fashion sense.

“Whe-where’s Mike?” you stutter around the lump in your throat, afraid of the answer.

“Oh, that was his name,” Lloyd laughs menacingly with a slap to his thigh. “You mean this guy?” He steps aside, his stare focused on you as you look beyond him and release a bloodcurdling scream.

The bathroom is in total disarray. Toiletries lay all over the floor and Mike sits slumped against the toilet, mouth hanging agape. His eyes are swollen shut, lips cracked and split, his nose is visibly broken and the angry red welt around his neck oozes with sticky vermilion as the ends of the garrote hang loosely down his chest like a macabre necklace. The disturbing scene in front of you is hard enough to look at. Yet somehow the sight of his shredded fingertips, reduced to bloody strips where he furiously clawed at the piano wire ligature until his dying breath, sickens you to your stomach. Bile burns the back of your throat as you swallow a retching cry, the acrid stench of copper filling your nostrils. He would have fought back, he would have tried, for you.

“Wh-why?” is all you can think to ask, even though you know why.

You’ve been expecting this moment for a year, every day looking over your shoulder in case he found you, despite all the lengths you’ve gone to, to make sure that didn’t happen. But you failed. Failed Mike and now he’s dead.

Lloyd comes to crouch at your feet and you flinch when his hand grips your knee, his thumb rubbing your skin far too gently for his violent nature.

He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his beloved switchblade and flicks it open with one perfected snap of his wrist. You hate the way your body instantly tenses at the sight of it. Like muscle memory. Itching to feel it scrape over your skin. You try not to let your fear show, subtly shifting your knee out of his reach. But his grip is bruising, holding you firmly in place and you can see the malevolence in his eyes, he knows what effect it’s subconsciously having on you.

Tears finally spill over your lashes and quiet sobs escape, morbidly wishing yourself into Mike’s place. At least that way you’d be free from the hell you know Lloyd is dying to administer, the delight of his amusement making his cold azure eyes shine brighter in the dimly lit room.

“Hey, c’mon now,” he whispers, but the tenderness in which he says it sounds wrong and he leans forward, his ridiculous moustache grazing your cheek, “at least save your tears ’til I’m fucking you.”

You lift your knee sharply and it connects with the underside of Lloyd’s jaw. A muffled grunt escapes him as he falls backwards onto his ass and you try to crawl away as fast as your body will allow. Your phone is on the nightstand, and you attempt to reach up for it but Lloyd’s behind you in seconds, grabbing your ankle and roughly tugs you away.

You scream, yell and kick out as he climbs on top of you, but all too quickly he overpowers you. He wastes no time in slicing through your sleep shorts with the knife, the cool steel tickling your flesh before he settles between your thighs as you lay there, resigned to your fate. He grinds down against you and the feel of his hard cock rubbing over your bare pussy causes a wave of repulsion tinged with heat to swim through you.

“Didn’t want you to see him like that just yet, but I wasn’t expecting you to wake up so soon. You always were such a heavy sleeper,” he mutters above you, teasing your collarbone with the tip of his blade. “Or maybe that’s from all the drugs I used to ply you with,” he adds with a chuckle. “Such a perfect little fuck toy.”

The revelation stuns you, but you manage to train your features to remain impassive. Now all those mornings you woke up groggy as hell and sore between your legs suddenly make sense.

Lloyd’s lips curl into a snarl when you don’t react. “C’mon pumpkin, give me something,” he grits, increasing the pressure of the blade against your skin. The sting makes you blanch a little, but it isn’t enough.

His hand moves south and sudden intense weight mounts against your sex as he strokes your folds apart, and you hate that you can feel your wetness rubbing off on his skin. Lloyd’s thumb brushes your clit in that magical way only he knows how and you let go of a little breathy gasp, your walls instantly welcoming the intrusion when he pushes his fingers inside you, crooked perfectly against the spongy spot that makes your toes curl either side of his thighs and stars to dot your vision.

It’s only a matter of seconds before you’re coming, drenching his hand, the obscene squelch of your juices drowned out only by your meagre whimpering.

“Fuck, I’ve missed that sound,” he huffs out.

And it seems your body has missed him more than you’re willing to admit when he finally bottoms out inside you. Thankfully your dead boyfriend’s eyes are forever shut so he can’t bear witness to the number of times Lloyd effortlessly manages to make you come.

***

F(ic) S(pecific): @lfaewrites @red-sky39596 @deanwithscissors @londoncapsule @maladaptivexxdaydreaming

ALL CE: @buckymydarlingangel @broadwaybabe18 @captain-asguard @chamberofsloths @cevansgurl @dreamlessinparis @deanwinchesterswitch @fandom-princess-forevermore @hurricanerin @jvstjewels @la-cey @ladybug05 @livstilinski @ladydmalfoy @mugi-chwan95 @navybrat817 @otomefromtheheart @oneoftheprettynerds @patzammit @rebel-stardust @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @sammykb1994 @syrenavenger @straywords @saiyanprincessswanie @sunwardsss @selfsun @threeminutesoflife @vicmc624 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @xoxonotme

4EVS: @amirra88 @andreasworlsboring101 @b3autyfuldisast3r @cheesyclaire @dangertoozmanykids101 @daughterofthenight117 @dandywinchesterbras @deangirl93 @doozywoozy @foxyjwls007 @geekofmanyforms @heyyouwiththeassbutt @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @ilovefanfic86 @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @letsby @letsdisneythings @labella420 @mogaruke @maliburenee @notyourtypicalrose @nik2writes @obsessivelycapricious @patrick-hockslutter @princessmisery666 @phildunphyisadilf @roxyfan14-blog @sage-writing @sea040561 @sweeterthanthis @slutformarvelmen @simpformarvelmenandwoman @smokeandnailz @stoneyggirl @stoneyggirl2 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @thegirlnextdoorssister @unfortunate-brat @warriorqueen1991 @xoxabs88xox

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #the gray man fanfiction

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Make a Scene

Sweet Treats AU Masterlist

The party goes into overdrive, some violence, drunkenness.

Please let me know what you think <3

🍫🍫🍫

You return to the party, skirting Steve as you search for your date. You find Bucky on the couch with Birdy still, she’s giggling at the edge of tears between sloppy slurps of wine. You’re happy to see her having a better time but you can’t help but feel uneasy. This isn’t just fun, your husband always has a reason.

Steve lingers by the windows and smirks in your direction as you keep to the other side of the room with Candy. Sam latches onto her before you can pass and he pulls her to stand between his knees as he sits one of the tall stools. She gives a tight-lipped look like ‘keep going’. Sam’s hands are already on her ass.

You keep moving to deter your personal party pooper. Muffin is by the speaker with Princess, holding her hands as she tries to convince her to dance to the 90s pop barely heard above the noisy din. You should join them, let loose but you can’t. Bucky’s not distracted, he’s laying a trap.

Muffin smiles and waves you closer. You stand beside the table where the speaker drones but assure her your feet are too sore for all that. She gives a dramatic look to your heels and pained expression. She gestures with her hands but you don’t know her meaning.

“She says you should take them off,” Darling calls over from beside Loki and he pinches her side, hissing in her ear as she retreats back into herself.

“And– and—” Birdy’s voice gets louder in her drunken rambling, overriding those conversations around her, “and I try so hard,” her words are clumsy around her tongue, “I do everything and he–”

Thor clears his throat and his forehead wrinkles as he resets his focus on whatever he was chatting about with Tony, his long finger outlining his thoughts in the air before him. Muffin giggles as Princess stumbles and Loki leans into Darling, his words shielded by the layers of sound all around.

“It’s Coco!” Your name draws you back to the woman in red, her hand on your husband’s bicep, “he just can’t stand I’m not her.”

Steve’s eyes widen as you catch his gaze again. You know he’s been watching you, he has all night. He steps forward as Birdy’s slurring diatribe smothers out all other voices.

“He calls me her when we fuck, you know? And this dress, this dress! She has the exact same one,” she laughs, a bitter, sad laugh, “don’t you, Coco Bean?”

She looks around aimlessly until she finds you. You fidget and your lips part in horror. Shut up, girl. Shut up.

Birdy pushes herself up with Bucky’s shoulder as he grins at her ass. Her dress has ridden up around her thighs, so high you can see a hint of her lacy panties. She doesn’t care as she drunkenly wobbles on her feet.

“You can never have her, Steve,” she talks with her hand in the air, “no, you know that, I know that, this whole room knows–”

Steve marches forward suddenly as Bucky snorts and stands calmly to stop him. Your husband forms a wall between the angry man and the drunken woman, placing his palm on his chest and talking quietly. He gets a shove in response and nearly staggers into Birdy.

You hurry forward but Muffin is quicker, squeaking as moves like a blur. She grabs onto Steve’s wrist as he goes for Bucky again and Birdy giggles cluelessly behind them. Chaos brews all around the couch as every set of eyes is rapt by the scene.

“Get out of the fucking way, Bucky, I’m gonna drag her–” Steve elbows away Muffin as he snarls and she cries out as you collide with her.

You catch her before she can topple but another body quickly brushes up behind you. Thor snatches Steve by the back of his collar and hauls him back. He flings him into a stool so he clatters to the floor with the piece of furniture.

“Hey, that’s expensive,” Tony calls out.

“Stark,” Thor warns as he stands over Steve, “you will never touch her again,” he snarls as his hand opens and closes, “you are fortunate I haven’t the mind to call Mjolnir.”

“Tell her to stay out of my way,” Steve huffs and pulls himself up by the trim of the bar.

Muffin wriggles away from you and scurries to grab Thor’s arm. He looks down at her and growls as she signals to him. His brow furrows. He glances back at Birdy as she stands in horror at the fight. You go to her as Bucky smirks tauntingly at Steve. That’s the trick.

“Oh joy, and I thought this night would be incredibly dull,” Loki remarks, barely fazed as he draws Darling back against him.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #sweet treats #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

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mamashenanigans · 3 months

Text

SURPRISE I come baring KudoxYoichi fruit!!!

Yes! This is the first scene from the next chapter of Urges!

This second chapter is all about Yoichi meeting Kudo and Bruce, but the majority of it will be from AFO’s perspective. This first scene is the only one from Yoichi’s perspective this chapter or, at least, that’s the current plan. Who knows with me, though. I might end up doing a back and forth perspective for this chapter. I’m still feeling it out. Regardless, Kudo and Bruce are brought into the picture and AFO isn’t too thrilled about sharing his brother nor watching him want to give to these complete strangers. Cue awkward first meetings, horror from Kudo and Bruce, and an inevitable “bring your boyfriend to family dinner” scene that will either be hilarious or downright creepy!

This first scene is quite cute and therefore includes a meet cute, but keep in mind what kind of writer I am! Once it switches to AFO, things are going to get weird and creepy.

Anywhooooo, read it below and let me know what you think! If you haven’t read Urges, please do and maybe leave a kudo and/or comment to help me get through my day of grooming dogs. There are only so many times you can shave a doggy butthole before you need a little cheering up! 😝

(The first time I tried to post this, my tumblr app decided to make me look like a fool and double pasted. This is a new post)

“Ugh!”

Yoichi dropped his overflowing basket to the floor as he scoured through the products on the shelves. This particular grocer was a favorite of his as it didn’t just stock Japanese necessities, but also ingredients from other countries. When it opened, he had been over the moon, bugging his brother incessantly about how amazing the selection is.

Per usual, Big Brother was more concerned about how the haul would help him and didn’t care much for Yoichi’s fervent ramblings over his love for the place. The younger twin couldn’t help his excitement nor the chance to tease his brother over the elder most likely never setting foot in the place. That always earned him a hard scowl or a shove to the shoulder. Normally both.

He’d tell himself that it wasn’t his fault his brother rarely deigned to leave the house unless it involved business, but that would be partly a lie. Okay, maybe an entire lie. He sorta, probably, definitely was the cause for his twin’s physicality at this point, however, Yoichi didn’t like to dwell on it especially now that the brothers had come to an understanding about the needs of the other.

Still, this grocery run had become exhausting.

The night prior, the twins had been watching a cooking competition show. Actually, Yoichi had been binging different food related shows all day now that most pre-meta streaming services had finally returned.

Big Brother had started teasing him early in the day, but his annoyance grew every time he found Yoichi glued to the screen, eyes huge, and papers with recipe ideas strewn across the coffee table and couch. The older brother eventually picked up his smaller twin(he didn’t even bother using a meta ability) and took him into the kitchen, setting him on his feet and dramatically motioning to all the advanced appliances.

“How about you pretend you’re on a cooking show and make me something to eat!”

After sticking his tongue out at his brother’s retreating back, Yoichi had hollered, “I totally could be on a cooking show and I’d win!”

His brother’s deep voice answered, “We all have dreams we’ll never attain, dear brother!”

Yoichi was already yawning once they had sat down to eat their frustration-induced dinner, but perked up when he found a new competition show. He almost broke the remote with how hard and quickly he mashed the buttons, and he could feel his brother roll his eyes.

“Really? You aren’t tired of this drivel?”

”Never!”

Once they were done eating, well, once Yoichi was done eating, he couldn’t stop himself from excitedly talking about all the recipes he would love to make.

And that was his first mistake.

His brother grinned at him and pulled Yoichi in close; their eyes locked.

”Hmm, I heard you say a certain dish I would just love to enjoy tomorrow night. If you can make it.”

Yoichi glared at his brother and sat up straight. He crossed his arms. “I can make anything, Big Brother!”

”Oh, really? Then I’m sure you’ll have no trouble making me Tonkatsu ramen!”

Yoichi’s eyes bugged out and he stuttered, “Wh-what?! You, you, dammit, you know I never cut corners! What the hell! That’s going to take me, take me—”

”All. Day.” Big Brother pulled back and held his stomach as he let out a boisterous laugh. Yoichi seethed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

”Please, we’ve always been together. You know damn well when I’m kidding. I’m just helping you realize your dream of being on ‘what’s his face’s show!”

”That face is THE Gordon Ramsey and you know that!”

Big Brother tutted and flapped his fingers. “Yes, yes, the British one that yells. I must admit I respect his gumption. Went right back to that Hell show before America even got back on its feet.”

”It’s Hell’s Kitchen. You know that.”

”Mmmhmm.”

”Ahhhh,” Yoichi screeched and pulled at his hair, “the only way I can do it right is to go right now and get everything! You know it takes over a day, don’t you? I’m going to have to have the broth cooking tonight, it has to stay on the stove overnight, cook more during the day, then it—ugh! Big Brother, I swear, if I didn’t know, explicitly from you saying it all the time, that you’d ‘stop death from taking me’, I’d think you want me to keel over!”

Big Brother just stared at him, a humor twinkling in his eyes and an annoying grin on his face. “Well, I have faith in you, my little twin.”

Yoichi jumped to his feet, gave his brother one last glare, and then grabbed his things. His muttering didn’t subside even after he left and especially when his brother called out, “Don’t take forever and bring me something sweet back!”

Even though Yoichi had returned as fast as he could, his brother still complained he was gone too long. It didn’t help matters that he decided to state as such when Yoichi was still standing in the hall with his arms full of grocery bags and his white locks in a state of disarray.

His rush ended up biting him in the ass the next day once he realized he had completely forgotten the pork belly for the chashu. Luckily, it didn’t take anywhere near as long as the rest of the meal to prepare, but that meant he was now back at the store to buy it. However, Yoichi wasn’t one to ever just buy one thing. Perhaps it was him being spoiled by his brother’s money or his mind working in overdrive to come up with more ways to give. All he knew was that he was fairly certain he was out of paprika. And onion powder. And…maybe 3, or 5, or more ingredients.

Before he knew it, his basket was so full that he felt heavily encumbered. With it on the floor now, he was able to more expertly parse through the delicate glass bottles that lined the shelves.

“Where is it? There it is! No, no, that one doesn’t look good. Is there another brand? I wonder…”

Unbeknownst to Yoichi, another customer had taken to looking through the snacks nearby, which ended up being quite fruitoutus when—

“Oh, shit!”

One of the expensive glass bottles fell from the shelf and Yoichi embarrassingly missed catching it twice before it was caught by a calloused hand.

“Yo, may want to be a little more careful.”

Yoichi hastily grabbed the bottle from the stranger and went to apologize (maybe a bow or two?) but went rigid once he finally set eyes on the man that had saved him from having to profusely apologize to the store owner.

“Um, I…I” Yoichi didn’t have words. He couldn’t say he had felt this emotion before that was blossoming in his chest. It wasn’t like when his urges took over, but definitely danced with the feeling he’d have when taking advantage of the plethora of options on the internet. The kind he was always ready to hide from his brother’s discerning eyes with a quick switch to another window on his laptop.

The man that had saved him from public embarrassment gave him a questioning look. His hair was spiked and a lovely shade of orange. His eyes were red (like Big Brother’s) but not quite the same shade nor intensity, and his skin spoke of a life of hard work. The stranger’s clothes looked like they were chosen in a rush and Yoichi easily found every tear and stain.

He was nothing like the men he enjoyed pleasuring himself to in the dead of night after sneaking out of his and his brother’s shared bed.

Ruggedly handsome. Yes, that’s what he was.

“Uh, you okay there, champ?”

”Oh, uh, yeah, yeah! I’m just dandy!”

”Ah…huh.”

Crap! Yoichi! You are ruining this!

”I, uh, sorry! I just haven’t, um, seen you here before!”

”So, you keep a record of everyone that shops here?”

Yoichi’s face went red and he hurriedly shook his head ‘no’.

“Whoa, there! I’m just kidding!”

”Yes! I just meant that, well, I come here a lot. And by a lot I mean, like, almost everyday, so I was just a little surprised is all…”

”Right. Anyway, it looks like you owe me now. Saved you from having to deal with that grumpy old guy at the front.”

”I heard that, you hooligan!” A gruff voice spoke over the loudspeaker.

”Damn. This place is really nice, isn’t it? Even has a good ‘ol timer to watch me on the cameras like a damn hawk.”

Yoichi laughed and not in a cute way like he wanted. It came out more like it would from his brother.

His brother. Well, that killed the mood.

”Um, thanks for being my hero!”

Good one, Yoichi. Great job. Totally not stupid.

“Heh. Hero, aye? Never heard that one before. Just call me Kudo.”

Yoichi felt a warmth grow within him and not where he’d normally feel his urges. No, much lower.

“I’m, uh, Yoichi.”

”Well, Yoichi, it was good to meet you, but I’d prefer the next time to not include almost destroying pricey merchandise, okay?”

Next time?!

”Yo, Kudo!” A blue haired man near the front with his hair pulled back called out.

Kudo turned slightly to look at him and Yoichi noticed how the other man cocked his head at a stranger checking out. Maybe another friend?

”Well, looks like I need to be going.” Kudo put back the bag of snacks he was holding and turned to leave, but Yoichi stopped him. “Why did you put that back? I can help if you need it! I’ll buy it for you!” The words flew out of his mouth before his brain could catch up. He wasn’t especially adept at speaking with people other than Big Brother. It had always been just them and surviving, but even now that they were comfortable and no longer had to scrap on the streets, Yoichi never had ventured far with finding friends.

“Uh, yeah, no, dude. It’s all good. Something came up, that’s all. Maybe I’ll see you around again, who knows?”

Kudo walked away towards the blue-haired man and they exchanged some words then followed the stranger that had just paid out the door.

“You two better buy something next time! I’m running a business! Not a hostel!” The old man behind the counter yelled.

Yoichi stood there for a few minutes mulling over the strange encounter he just went through.

Oh, god! He just had a meet-cute! His closed smile took over his face and he was partly convinced little hearts must be bursting around his head.

There would definitely be a “next time” as the handsome, not-quite-put-together clothes wearing, orange haired man named Kudo said.

Yoichi’s phone went off interrupting his semi-lustful thoughts. He took a peak and groaned. A text from his Big Brother on the screen.

BigBro: “What the hell is taking you so long? Weren’t you just getting pork? What’s going on—”

Yoichi growled and put his phone back in his pocket.

Great. Of course, his Big Brother would be the one to kill this amazing mood he was having.

But still…

Next time.

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cyren-myadd · 2 months

Note

I love all your fanfics ❤️❤️❤️

Can we get a snippet of The Next Chapter of Blood Is Thicker than Water?

I don't know how I went from updating this fic with super long chapters weekly to struggling to update once a month 😭 the motivation ✨evaporated✨

It makes me really happy to know people are still excited to keep reading it though 💙💙💙

BITTW is NOT abandoned, I'm just going through a creative rough patch, I promise I am still working on it, just very slowly.

Here's a snippet of what i have so far:

The city was a very different jungle than the one he’d been raised in. It didn’t take long before he was hopelessly lost in the unforgiving urban sprawl. All he had was a wad of cash in his pocket and the adrenalin in his veins.

Eventually, Spider decided running around the city in a blind panic wouldn’t get him anywhere, and he sat down at a small but fancy-looking restaurant to try and come up with some kind of plan. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. It was nearly impossible with the knowledge that Quaritch was out there hunting him down at that moment. Not for the first time, Spider thanked Eywa that he hadn’t had an asthma attack since his Uniltaron.

“Excuse me?” A side voice made Spider flinch and look up to see a frumpy-looking waiter standing by the table.

“Hi?”

“You haven’t ordered anything. You need to order something before you can sit down.” The waiter pointed inside the cafe where a line of consumers stood waiting to purchase an overpriced coffee or unnutritional pastry.

Spider felt for the wad of cash, but decided against buying anything. He wasn’t sure how much money the doctor had given him, but even if it was a lot, he didn’t want to waste a single cent on anything other than getting the hell out of the city.

“I’m not planning on buying anything. I’m just catching my breath.”

The waiter’s nose wrinkled disapprovingly. “Then you need to leave.”

“But why?”

“We don’t allow… loiterers.”

Spider wasn’t exactly sure what a “loiterer” was, but the waiter said it like a dirty word. He narrowed his eyes at the man. “Listen, dude. I’m not bothering anybody. There’s plenty of room. I’m just gonna sit for a few minutes, then I’ll leave.”

“Do I need to call the police?”

The threat sent a thrill of panic through Spider’s body. He still had a concussion from the last time someone called the “police” on him. “What? But I’m not doing anything! I’m just sitting here!” He cried, throwing his hands up in bewildered anger.

“You are trespassing on commercial property. Either leave or you will be escorted out.”

Spider stood bolt upright with a snarl and grabbed the waiter by the front of his stupid frumpy uniform. “I’m just sitting here! What the hell is your problem?”

The waiter let out a squeal like a stuck pig, and suddenly, half the restaurant was staring at them— staring at him, with fear in their eyes. What the hell was he doing? Sure, the waiter was a prick, but that was no reason to get physical. This was the second time he’d been aggressive with someone that day. Spider released the waiter’s uniform like it burned.

“I— I’m sorry, I don’t know why I—“ he stammered while the waiter retreated like he was diseased. Every eye in the restaurant was on him now, watching him warily like he was an unpredictable wild animal. To his horror, several people already had their phones out, some recording, others making phone calls, most likely to the police.

He remembered when Quaritch had told him that everyone in the city worked for the RDA, which meant that they might as well have worked for him. It would only be a matter of time before this got back to Quaritch.

Spider turned and ran.

#avatar #atwow #spider socorro #miles quaritch #avatar the way of traumatizing spider #avatar spider #ao3 #avatar fanfiction

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christallise · 2 years

Text

creatures of curiosity

the prince of the sea ; hyunjin | series masterlist

word count: 5.2k

warnings: angst, fluff, fantasy au, themes of horror (no gore, just general feeling of unease), lowkey stockholm syndrome, hyunjin is uncomfortably very full on, implied sex, maybe don’t read if you have thalassophobia

a/n: this ended up much longer than i anticipated but it’s finally done!!! i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ;___;

taglist: @screaming-wea-sel @drrramaaaqweeen @simjaeyunspinkytoe @frozenpeasworld @lovhyunj @lcvryu @yoyeolears @lix-ables @koovvie @hwnghyvnjn @lixtokki

The red sails above tremble under the whistling wind, a stark contrast to the gloomy grey skies. Undecided rain threatens to fall at any moment as the ship creaks and groans in distaste for the salty waters it safeguards you from. Truthfully, you had only agreed to venture on this expedition under the guise that it would be short and three weeks into it, you’re no closer to your destination. The captain had made sure that you were accommodated of course, you have your own private quarters adorned with silken sheets and gorgeous shining silverware; so not all is bad. Still, you’re what the locals dub “a landwalker” and for good reason; you would much prefer solid ground to the volatile waters.

Now the heavens pour open, a bad omen, rain begins to lash against your skin like tiny knives and you’re painfully aware of the entire crew's eyes boring into your skull. You’d heard them protest as you boarded, some even spat at the ground as you passed but you held your head high and made your way to the captain, maps in hand and ready to assist whenever needed.

“Bad luck to have a woman on board,” it’s the first time a crew member dared speak to you, or rather, about you in this case. You raise an eyebrow as he stares, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “‘Specially in these waters.”

“And why is that?” you quiz, mimicking his stance, “Blatant sexism or just plain stupidity?”

Your remark earns some jeers from onlooking crewmen, one even pats you on the back. The first man shakes his head with a grimace.

“Come on lass, you’re telling me you haven’t heard the tales?”

Of course you are aware of the stories, you remember your Father reading you fables of the Prince of the Sea, an eternally woeful being whose spilled tears crafted the very ocean you sail upon. It’s said that he mourns the death of his beloved and is in search of anew. That his elegy of sorrow enchants whomever’s ears it happens to fall upon, luring them to their untimely demise. As a child you felt sorry for the Prince, losing his betrothed and while mourning being pestered by unwanted ships in his realm. Now as an adult, you see the tales for exactly what they are: propaganda to prevent women from sailing the seas

“You need not concern me with your stories,” you reply with a scoff, “Especially not old wives tales crafted to fuel your sexist agenda.”

“Made up stories, eh?” he says through gritted teeth, “Ships go missin’ with women on ‘em far too much to be coincidence.”

“Then I suggest you keep your eyes open for trouble instead of wasting my time.”

You’re thankful when he retreats, mumbling what you can only imagine to be curses under his breath. It need not concern you, all that matters to you at this moment is tracking your whereabouts and leading the crew to their destination. Rain continues to fall, your hair begins to drip at the ends as you wipe the drops from your compass. The dial spins for a moment before comfortably setting on the east.

It’s unusually welcoming when night falls, the crew’s boisterous clamouring quietens and the final shanty has been sung. The deluge had finally subsided too, replaced by a vista of stars; you divine them, tracing the shapes of latent constellations. The ship sways with the tide, rocking the crew to a gentle sleep and leaving you almost completely alone, save for a few nocturnal sailors who chug rum like it’s water. They’d fall into an alcohol induced slumber soon enough. You watch the waves as they languidly ebb and flow against the hull and suddenly you’re homesick; longing to see your friends and family again. It has been longer than anticipated and will be longer still; you begin to wonder if they’re worried. The thoughts consume you and for a brief lapse in judgement, you consider joining the drunken sea dogs who are now passed out on deck. You shake your head and chuckle at their misfortune, unbeknownst to your own.

Fog begins to rapidly roll in seemingly from nowhere and at once your vision deteriorates. Through the thick clouds, you call out to someone — anyone, yet no one heeds your call. Instead, a haunting melody echoes around you, an otherworldly eerie requiem of sorrow that lurches your heart. You can’t control your sobbing, the tears flood from your eyes like waterfalls and your gut wrenches as the song grows closer and louder. Now, you can see the crew — some crashing into each other, some gasping for air, some crying uncontrollably and some screaming. They wail, they beg for the reaper to take them. And still you’re crying, weeping as you navigate through the mist to find the Captain. It’s futile, the density of the fog proving to be too much. Below you, the ship screams in agony; wood snapping and metal clanging and you feel the hull you peacefully watched not long ago be torn apart. There’s nothing you can do; you are at the mercy of the sea now and you simply pray. Pray that somehow you might survive and return to your family and friends unscatched.

The darkness steals that dream.

*************

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been out. A minute? A day? Time eludes you. You blink your eyes, squinting to adjust to your new surroundings and you’re taken aback. The room is extravagant, home to a four poster bed that almost takes up the entire space. On the walls are antiquated paintings, fitted with threads of golden embellishments that glint and sparkle. Below them, lies an immaculately tidy, pure white vanity table — adorned with opulent gems and jewels and a full oval mirror. Wherever you were, the host did not spare the details of your accommodation.

You decide to investigate, rummaging through drawers and cabinets to find some clue to your whereabouts. As you approach the door to the room, the faint smell of dew tickles your nose and it reminds you that your clothes are damp. Or, they’re supposed to be. When you look down, you’re surprised to find your attire to be drastically different; a long, pearl nightdress drapes over your figure. Now you’re panic stricken, knowing someone had changed your clothing coupled with the ignorance of your whereabouts proving too much for you.

Right as you’re about to beseech for aid, you hear it; the same chilling verses from the ship, echoing throughout the halls of wherever you are. Curiosity gets the better of you, your fingers twist the golden doorknob and you venture outside the confines of the room; warily following the music to its source. Through winding corridors and narrow passages until finally you find it.

In the centre of the room sits a grand piano but your eyes merely gloss over it. Instead, they focus on the massive window that touches both the ceiling and the floors; however, it’s the view that truly catches your attention. Through the glass lies a forest inundated by the sea, the sunlight above struggles to penetrate through the dense grouping of kelp trapped in the muted expanse. It’s astonishing, it’s magical and it confirms your location in an instant. Your eyes slowly return to the piano and you finally see the fabled Prince of the Sea, fingers ghosting over the keys in his haunting composition.

Your first reaction is to panic, your eyes dart around the room in search of somewhere to run, somewhere to hide as your face turns a chalky white, drained of all life. Your eyes blur as tears begin to gush from them and fear tugs at your soul. You’re too young to die, there’s so much you haven’t done. The faces of your friends, of your family flash in spectacular colours in your mind as your legs give way beneath you and you fall to your knees in anguish.

“Please, do not be afraid.” A voice, so soft and gentle it rips you from the maddened terror momentarily. Of course, it could only belong to him; such a melodic tone from such a frightening being; it doesn’t make sense in your head. “You’re safe.” “Safe?” You repeat, wiping the tears from your eyes and finally meeting his gaze; glacial blue eyes that peer into the darkest reaches of your soul yet the warmest smile you’d ever laid eyes upon. His golden hair is flattened against his cheeks, wet as though fresh from the rain. “You’re not going to hurt me?” “Hurt you?” His brow furrows and he genuinely sounds offended, enough so to manifest some guilt within yourself. “You have given me no reason to.” The guilt dissipates and fear creeps back up your throat. “Ah,” is all you can choke out, afraid that you may just give him a reason. Still, he is ever smiling and even offers a hand to help you up from the ground. Warily, you accept the gesture.

“Hyunjin,” he says as he helps you up, “And you are?” “Y/n,” you reply, dusting off your knees. “But you’re not just Hyunjin, are you?” To this, Hyunjin chuckles darkly; striding back over to the great piano and perching himself neatly on the seat. When you don’t move, he beckons you by patting the empty space next to him. Again, you are cautious yet you move swiftly to avoid conflict. “Only those who know me call me by my name,” he says, beginning to coax yet another melody from the instrument, “Others know me as—”

“Prince of the Sea,” you finish his sentence, eyes never wavering from the piano keys. “My Father used to tell tales of you when I was young.” “And you’re not afraid?” Hyunjin asks with faux curiosity, “How very brave. Or terribly foolish.”

You dare not answer, opting instead to listen to the music that Hyunjin plays so eloquently. For a moment, you both bask in the sombre song; sharing an odd kinship. Hyunjin plays from his soul, the chords reaching deep down into his core and manifesting in an elegy of desperation; of sweet sadness. It feels strangely humbling to hear.

“You are a good listener,” he says when your eyes gently close and you begin humming to the melody, “A trait to be desired.”

Perhaps he’s correct. Or perhaps civility is a mask for fear.

********

Time seems to stand still in the palace; since sunlight cannot breach the murky waters, you aren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in Hyunjin’s domain. For the few hours after your first meeting, you wandered the empty corridors through twists and turns, leaving no stone unturned in this abyssal abode. One particular dark room, stowed deep in the sub reaches intrigued you so, however a lock kept it safe from prying eyes. In the meantime, Hyunjin has been perfectly pleasant towards you, making sure you are eating and drinking well and presenting you with many gifts — knick knacks of sorts, clothing and jewels that even a Queen would envy. You’re acutely aware, of course, just why he’s being so kind to you — the stories say as much. You have no intention of staying, your primary goal is to free yourself from his shackles and get back to your friends and family.

It’s one particular day (or at least you think it’s day) where Hyunjin requests you wear a very specific dress; one of scarlet velvet and trimmed with obsidian lace. Of course, you comply — fear holds its grip on you tightly and you worry that failure to do so would result in your early expiration. You meet him in an ample room with similar floor to ceiling windows as the great hall, only this room is littered with various sheets, splattered with a rainbow of colours and containers filled to the brim with glossy paint. In the centre of the room, Hyunjin sits patiently across from a black chaise; a worn apron protecting his attire.

“Wow,” he says, head leaning on a hand as he watches you approach, “You look absolutely beautiful.”

It takes you aback and you’re unsure how to respond; losing your composure for just a moment, your cheeks burning almost as bright as your gown. “Thanks,” you say simply with a small bow just in case before setting yourself atop the cushions. “You’re an artist?”

Hyunjin hums an affirmation, busying himself with architecting his easel and perching a pure white canvas atop it, nodding at a small collection of brushes at his side. “You could say that.”

“And your subject?” You ask warily.

“Sits before me,” he smiles, studying you with the eye of a true virtuoso. “Relax, Y/n. It takes time, you don’t want to be uncomfortable, do you?”

No, you do not.

So you sit there, still and quiet while Hyunjin’s keen eye captures your essence; his brushstrokes are as graceful and delicate as he is — they bewitch you into a trance. Your eyes gently close and you slip slowly into slumber only to be awoken by a gentle glissando. When your eyes flutter open and are met with a hydrous lyre floating gingerly in the air next to Hyunjin, you gasp.

“My apologies,” he says, eyes sternly focusing on the painting, “I did not mean to wake you, only to amuse myself with some music.”

“No, it's alright,” you reply, now very aware of the silence between you. There’s part of you that wants to get to know him, to know this mythical being that stories were passed down from generation to generation. Someone of that calibre must have lived a riveting life. Though to ask such questions out of the blue would be morbidly rude. “You’re a very capable man,” you hope to ignite some conversation, “A painter, a conjurer, a songster and a musician.”

“And yet, my social skills are severely lacking.”

You laugh, truly, and it shocks you. “A comedian too?”

Hyunjin joins you in laughter, chuckling as he continues darting his eyes between you and the canvas. “Truthfully though, I simply have a lot of time on my hands to learn new crafts,” he says once the laughter quietens, “Art, music, languages, literature; trivial pastimes to distract the mind.”

“How profound.”

“So it is true that if you brand yourself an artist people will naturally attach more meaning to the things you say.”

You shake your head as he jests, “Your words do have meaning, the stories and songs tell of your loneliness.”

To this, Hyunjin gives a poignant smile.

“I’ve learned every instrument, read every book in my library and speak every language that piques my interest and still, there is a vast emptiness inside me.”

Intense, but you’re glad to finally be addressing the elephant in the room. A sense of sadness falls about Hyunjin, one you hadn’t seen since arriving. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“I understand,” you begin, edging to the end of the chair and clasping your hands neatly in your lap, “Loneliness can be all consuming, especially when it’s born from losing a loved one.”

Hyunjin regards your comment with yet another pitiful smile. “True indeed, sometimes it feels as though my memories are more alive than I.”

The open honesty tugs at the strings of your heart; your compassion is immense and you have the impulse to lunge forward and cradle him in your arms. Hearing stories of his loss, details lost in transference, is one thing; to look him in the eye as his heart pours open for you is another. You’re at a loss for words, solemnly watching as Hyunjin continues his painting.

“Forgive me, I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“No, not at all.” He can tell you’re lying.

The conversation comes to a natural stop as you assume the original position for the portrait. Hyunjin quietly hums along to the music as he works, occasionally flipping his blonde locks from his eyes. Briefly, you forget the circumstances of your arrangement; right now you are simply two beings sharing an unspoken moment.

“Are you excited to see the finished work?” He asks, eyeing you over the canvas, “It’s almost finished.” “Yes, of course,” you reply, “Although, I’m not entirely sure if I have the look for it.” This stops him dead in his tracks, his head lops to the side and he eyes you curiously. “What do you mean?” “Just that paintings are for the rich and the beautiful,” you say and Hyunjin scoffs.

“My dear, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

You blink, unsure of what to say.

“Come, see for yourself how others see you.” And so you do, moving swiftly behind Hyunjin and peering over his shoulder to admire his work. Before you, there is someone who resembles you, yet the features you are most self conscious about seem to harmonise. It’s mind boggling and you look down to Hyunjin in disbelief.

“This…doesn’t feel like me.” “Because your perception is warped. You see only what is reflected in glass or water.”

Now, Hyunjin turns to face you and you’re eminently aware of just how close the two of you are. It’s the first time that you’ve been so intimate with him and you curse your heart for pounding so much in your chest.

“You do not see yourself mid laughter or when you have your nose buried in a book,” he continues; eyes locking with yours as he raises his hand, cupping your cheek gently. “Those moments are where true beauty lies.”

How you are so captivated by your captor bewilders you, yet his words penetrate your soul; every inch of your body feels as though it’s set aflame. When you are ever silent, he laughs and retreats his hand. “Forgive me again if I’ve made you uncomfortable.” “No, not at all.” And you truly meant it this time.

*****************

The next week or so, Hyunjin’s gift giving becomes more frequent; every day you awaken to some form of gift at the edge of your bed, delivered by your own nautical magpie. Never have you been gifted so heavily, you begin to think your thank you’s are losing their meaning. Not only have you been bombarded with gifts, but each time you pass each other by as you explore or as he seats you at the dinner table; there is a veil of passion between you. Neither party acknowledges the faint tinge of desire but both feel it coursing through their veins. You do not yet understand it but you feel drawn to him like a sailor to the open sea.

Hyunjin had been leaving you alone most of the time, to your surprising dismay; allowing you freedom to spend time in the multitude of recreational rooms that filled the halls. Your most favourite of all being the library where Hyunjin’s vast collection of tomes rivals even the most learned academics in the city.

“You can read anything here, provided you speak the language.” Hyunjin had told you with a wink.

“And if I don’t, perhaps you wouldn’t mind teaching me.” You had replied.

And so he did. Huddled around a cramped desk, stacked to the heavens with literature and poems in romantic languages some of which you hadn’t even heard of. When you make a mistake, he laughs hard and it’s so therapeutic to hear. When you’re correct, he beams with pride and gently squeezes your hand. Another fleeting moment passes in which you are simply two people; two strangers becoming acquainted.

Once dinner time approaches, he leads you to the dining room and seats you directly next to him; this was new to you. Previously you’d been across from him and nothing more — your heart begins to pound in your chest.

“You know,” you say as you sit, “I’ve never seen a single person other than us here, who is cooking the food?”

Hyunjin chuckles, taking his own seat after tucking yours in, “You only thought to ask this now?” When you nod he shrugs, “I have an imp pet who takes care of it.”

You have no idea if he’s joking or not but the time to question him passes as he begins to eat; encouraging you to do the same. You would love to eat, really, but your heart is lodged in your throat and the feeling only worsens as Hyunjin takes your hand in his.

“Having you here has been wonderful,” he says, out of the blue and you can’t help but blush, “it’s been a long time since i’ve been this happy.”

“I’m glad I can help,” you reply, truthfully you don’t really know what to say.

The two of you finish your food, hands tied together the entire time and once your fork is placed neatly beside the plate, Hyunjin pulls you to your feet.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Soon enough, you’re met with the familiar view of the closed off room you found the first day you arrived and you look at Hyunjin with curiosity. From his shirt pocket he pulls a tiny key before twisting it into the lock and springing the door open; what you find inside is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

Glass replaces the concrete walls of the room, it’s like stepping into the open ocean yet breathing air. Sunlight pours in brilliant beams, illuminating the multi coloured coral reef that borders the underwater palace. Marine life is rife here, various schools of fish swirl in perfect synchrony, leaving a glimmering trail in their wake. You gape at Hyunjin before running off to get a better view.

“This is incredible,” you marvel, hands pressed against the glass, “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, it is.”

Hyunjin joins you, wrapping a hand around your waist; it catches you off guard and you spin to face him. Now, you can see him so clearly; bathed in the light of the sun, his eyes shine and his flaxen hair frames his features so perfectly. Briefly, you blink absently.

“Y/n,” he speaks low, maintaining eye contact and when you try to avert your gaze, his hand cups your cheek and reels you right back in. There’s a serene silence between you as he brushes the stray hairs from your face, taking in all of you. It’s when his lips press against your own that you lose all inhibitions, letting his tongue explore your mouth as his hands pull you closer by the waist. You cannot escape this primal need to be closer to him, to let your arms sling around his neck and allow yourself to be held; to melt into him.

One kiss is all it takes for you to tumble into bed with him. Hyunjin takes it slow with you, though you are unsure whether it’s so he can greedily savour every second or to provide you with comfort. Not that it matters when he’s making you feel so good. You lose yourself, submitting fully to him; letting yourself reach highs you never thought existed. When you’re spent, lying flush against him and panting, he cradles you in his arms and smothers the top of your head in tiny kisses.

“It might come as a shock to you,” Hyunjin muses aloud, eyes looking anywhere but you, “but I think I may have found my missing piece.”

To this, you glance up at him and laugh at the sight of his usually pale face burning beetroot, “What do you mean?”

“It means you complete me and I believe I am in love with you.”

Whoa.

Before you even begin to formulate a reply, Hyunjin butts in.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to reciprocate it just yet,” he says, now looking down at you, “I just wanted you to know.”

You truly are at a loss for words, it feels far too soon for your liking for him to be devoting himself to you yet you are blinded by the rose tinted glasses. Without answering, you nuzzle in the crook of his arm and allow yourself to be coaxed into slumber by Hyunjin absently playing with your hair as you drift into a rest filled with fantastical dreams of what could be.

Reality can never really compare with dreams.

The next morning you return to the glass room and gaze upon the bustling ocean life with childlike wonder, feeling fortunate that you get to view the sea life in a way no other mortal had. You follow the fish, counting every species you see and recognise. It’s not long until Hyunjin finds you and sits neatly on the floor by your side.

“You seem to like this place a lot.” he observes, leaning back on two hands to get a better view of you.

“It’s like a different world down here.” You reply, watching with awe as the fish scatter when what looks like a transparent shark passes through the reef. Strange. It’s only upon closer inspection that you realise it’s not a shark but the aquatic outline of a…person?

“Hyunjin,” you grab his attention by pulling on his sleeve and pointing at the figure, “What is that?”

Hyunjin barely gives a glance before answering.

“They are but wisps in the ocean, nothing to concern yourself with.”

You are unconvinced by his answer but dare not pry more. Instead, you lift yourself up and get as close to the glass as you possibly can to get a better view of the ghostly figure. As you approach the glass, a muted chorus of song can be heard as the figure drifts in and out of view.

“Hyunjin.” you say again, only this time much more stern. When a second figure joins the first and loops in the water, it almost crashes into the glass and your eyes widen in horror. “Is that a woman?”

Hyunjin remains ever silent as your eyes follow the ghostly woman as she sings, her song sending familiar chills down your spine. You turn to him, eyes filled with fear. “What…what is this?”

Hyunjin sighs.

“Sirens,” he says simply as though it were obvious. “They’re Sirens.”

Everything begins to fall into place, the jewels and gems gifted to you, the dresses that were so beautiful…

“Y/n,” Hyunjin is standing now, towering over you with his eyebrows furrowed. “Let me explain.”

You gape at him, words slip from your mind as you try to comprehend the gravity of what he has done.

“You did this?” You can’t hide the disbelief, it encompasses you.

Hyunjin hangs his head in shame, too afraid to look you in the eyes.

“Tell me the truth,” you squeak, beginning to back away slowly.

“They ran from me,” he begins through gritted teeth, “As though I was their worst nightmare incarnate. So I…tore their undeserving beauty from them.”

You cannot believe what you are hearing. “You cursed them?”

He gives a solemn nod.

“They will live a life of eternal yearning; an unquenchable thirst for lust that no one man can ever satisfy. That is what they deserve.”

“Is this the fate that awaits me?” You ask, a lump forming in your throat, “A siren lost to the tides?”

Hyunjin ponders the thought for a moment too long before shaking his head. “You were the first not to run. You are the first I’ve truly felt for.”

Although his plea sounds truthful, you cannot bear to look at him. “You could have let them go,” you say in barely a whisper. “Why didn’t you let them go?”

Hyunjin does not answer, for he cannot.

“I…I would like to leave.”

The silence is deafening. Every minute that passes where Hyunjin does not speak is a minute closer to your demise: you truly fear for your life.

“Then, you may go.”

What?

You almost break your neck to look at him; his eyes are reddened with tears.

“You…you’re serious?” you ask in disbelief.

“If you love someone, you let them go. I cannot keep you here against your will.”

You can feel the pain in his voice, like his heart had been ripped from his chest.

“Then, let me go.”

Briefly, he pauses and you fear that he has reconsidered but the fear is washed away with the tide as he beckons you to follow him. He dares not reach for your hand as he usually would.

The walk to the great hall feels like an eternity, with Hyunjin’s despondency bearing a heavy weight on your soul. Once you arrive, he stands firmly in place and gnaws on his bottom lip.

“I can take you home,” he finally says, “That is what you want, yes?”

The glimmer of hope that you will change your mind still faintly burns so when you nod your head, it crushes him. With a heaving sigh, he reaches around his neck and fiddles with a necklace of some sort before taking your hand in his own and passing it to you.

“Take this. If you ever change your mind, open it and I will find you.”

“A locket?” You say upon closer inspection, the brassy heart is adorned with threads of gold. “But this is precious to you.”

He bows his head, “Look after my heart, won’t you?”

Then, darkness consumes you.

*********

When you awaken, you find yourself somewhere in the sea on a rickety old ship just as before; except this time you’re bed ridden. You have no idea whose ship you’re on or how long you’ve been there, so you arise and make an attempt to seek out someone to explain your situation. As soon as you stand up, a splitting migraine assaults your mind — it’s piercing and you fall back onto the bed. With a hiss of pain, you throw your head back onto the pillow.

Had it been a dream? Surely not.

With haste you reach for the locket Hyunjin had gave you to find it missing. No…it simply couldn’t have been a fever dream — you refuse to believe it.

The sky screams in anguish as rain lashes down on the upper decks and you try to speak to any of the crewmen who are busying themselves with attending to the ship. Not one of them acknowledges you — typical. It’s by chance that you see one of the men dangling a chain from his hand, boasting to a friend that he’d won it in a card game only the day before.

“Excuse me, sir,” your attempt at being courteous is pathetic as your patience wanes, “That necklace belongs to me."

“Says who?” He snarls, looking you up and down.

“Says me,” you reply haughtily, snatching the necklace from his grubby hands.

As soon as the brass touches your skin, your body is set aflame; memories of Hyunjin wash over you like a tsunami — his touch, his taste, his smell. You’re flooded with emotion, drowning in the sweet sadness that fills your heart and you mourn the spark in the ocean, doused as it ignites.

“Bloody bad luck to have a woman on board,” the thief sailor spits as you loop the locket around your neck, twirling the golden heart in your fingers.

“Is that so?”

#stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #skz x reader #skz x y/n #creatures of curiosity #mine

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mydarlingdahlia · 7 months

Text

“Athropophagist.” Pt. 1

(This is gonna be in chapters, so strap in.)

Warnings: death, gore, cannibalism, decapitation, dismemberment, dark content overall, ✨murder✨, a dash of psychological torment 😚, also this is featuring yours truly this is my story I do what I want, Zenitsu goes a lil coo coo for Cocoa Puffs, actually more like a lot crazy, graphic themes, swearing, mentions of *a lot* of blood, don’t read this if you’re sensitive to that, uhhhh like a thriller horror movie type thing but like it’s Zenitsu, yes I know he’s weaker than the Hashira but let me live okay, this is literally just based off of a dream I had, also these are warnings for the entirety of the series not just this chapter

Dead Dove Do Not Eat: I know. I killed it myself and now it haunts me in my sleep.

You have been warned. This series will be very dark, and is certainly not for the faint of heart.

Reblogs and feedback are welcome!

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP* [click]

“Ughhhh…what time is it? …Great, it’s already noon…” Charlotte said, slowly rising out of her bed. Her alarm clock read 12:05. She had slept in. Well, at least she didn’t have to go to work, since it was a weekend.

She could hear everyone downstairs, most likely making lunch or doing whatever. She slid on her slippers and was pulling on her sweatshirt, when she heard her door open.

“Hey! You’re up, finally. I had half a mind to wake you up myself.” said Tengen’s voice from her doorway. Charlotte rolled her eyes, slipping one of her arms through a sleeve and flipping him off.

Tengen scoffed. “Rude. Anyways, turn on some damn lights, you’re gonna turn into a vampire if you always sulk around in the dark. C’mon, it’s lunch time already.” he said, turning on a light switch.

Charlotte groaned and rubbed her face as the light hit her eyes, trying to adjust to the brightness. Even though it was pretty much noon, she was still tired as hell. But lunch did sound pretty good.

“Okay, fine. I’ll be down in like two seconds.” she said, shuffling over to her vanity. She heard Tengen close the door and his footsteps retreat into the hallway.

After freshening up a bit and prodding a bit at her face, she decided she looked decent enough to head downstairs. She grabbed her phone off of her nightstand and headed out her bedroom door.

She slowly made her way down the stairs, looking at any potential messages her friends or family had left her. Hmmm. That’s a bit odd. No one had texted her since yesterday. Her friends were pretty much always online, and her mother always bombarded her with texts asking about things.

But she hadn’t received a single one…

“I’m probably overthinking it…” she thought to herself. “they’re probably all busy or on vacation, or something.”

She put her phone in her pocket and descended the rest of the stairs. She saw Shinobu, Kanao, and Tomioka in the kitchen, most likely making lunch. She caught a glimpse of the butterfly triplets and Aoi playing outside, with Mitsuri watching them from the porch.

Everyone else was either in the living room or somewhere else around the house.

“Ah! You’re awake. Come, come, Lottie. Make yourself some food.” Tengen said, ruffling her hair. Charlotte rolled her eyes and headed towards the kitchen and to the refrigerator. She didn’t feel like making anything, so she grabbed some fruit and sat down on the couch.

Tengen sat down next to her not even a moment later, provoking a groan from her.

“Can’t I ever get rid of you for more than five minutes?” she grumbled. Tengen laughed beside her, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Nope! The wonderful perks of having me as your best friend! Say, have you seen Zenitsu or Nezuko? I haven’t seen either of ‘em since they left.” he said.

Charlotte looked around the room before back at Tengen again.

“No, I haven’t, actually…do you know where they went?” she asked him. Tengen just shook his head. So apparently he didn’t know their whereabouts either.

“Come to think of it, Zenitsu was acting a bit strange when they left. All cold and stuff. Seemed frustrated, no, rushed. Like there was a reason he wanted the two of them to le—” he was interrupted by an alert coming from his phone.

Charlotte got one as well, as it was vibrating fervently in her pocket. Apparently the whole area had gotten the alert.

“‘Serial killer/cannibal on the loose?’ Sounds like bullshit to me.” Tengen said, putting his phone away. Charlotte began to feel uneasy by the alert. Everyone else’s phones had gotten the alert, as well, and began to move towards the living room.

“I don’t know, Ten…but what about Zenitsu and Nezuko? They’re still out there!” Charlotte said.

“You don’t think they’re hurt or anything, are they?” Aoi asked, coming in from outside with the butterfly triplets on her trail.

“Well…we can’t be positive unless we go look for them.”

“I’ll look for them! I’ll take Inosuke and Genya with me, as well!” Tanjiro piped up. Charlotte thought for a moment, before answering.

“Alright, Tanjiro. As long as you’ll be safe?” Charlotte asked.

Tanjiro nodded eagerly. “Yes! You have my word, Ms. Charlotte.”

And with that, the three of them headed out the front door.

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

“Do you think they’re alright? It’s been hours, now…” Kanao asked nervously, sitting next to Charlotte in the living room. Charlotte bit her lip.

“I don’t know, Kanao. Wherever they are, I’m sure they’re perfectly—” she was interrupted by her cellphone ringing loudly beside her.

Huh…Tanjiro’s calling her. Is something wrong?

“Hey guys? You might wanna come here.” she said, picking up the phone and putting it on speaker.

“Tanjiro? Hello? Is everything alright?”

“Charlotte! Thank goodness you picked up! I was worried we wouldn’t be able to get a hold of you all..” his voice sounded…panicked. Scared. And the connection was all off, too. His voice was glitching in and out, and the screen was lagging.

“Tanjiro? What happened? Where’s Inosuke and Genya?” Charlotte asked, a little panicked too.

“We’re here! I wish this was under better circumstances, though…” she heard Genya’s voice from the background.

“He’s gone crazy! Blood and guts everywhere…it was like he was eating her!” came Inosuke’s voice.

“Who? Who’s gone crazy?” Tengen asked.

“Zenitsu! He’s…he’s…” Tanjiro started, his voice breaking. Where those…tears?

“He’s what? What did he do?” Charlotte asked.

“He’s killed and eaten her! He killed Nezuko!” Genya said. Tanjiro shushed both of them as he frantically looked around. Charlotte noticed there were trees surrounding them.

“…Tanjiro…?”

Charlotte didn’t even get an answer before all hell broke loose. Tanjiro’s phone had fallen to the ground face down, but not before crimson blood flashed the screen.

They all heard screams coming from the phone, but the call disconnected after only a few seconds. Everyone sat in silence, not knowing what to do.

Charlotte felt something in her gut, deep, deep down. It wasn’t a good feeling, not at all. Something was wrong. So very, very, very wrong…

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

And that is the end of part/chapter one! Stay tuned for more, if you dare.

#charlotte writes ✥#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #horror fiction #halloween #y’all have no idea how long i have worked on this #i perfected it just for y’all #but tell me if it’s good 😭#I want y’all’s opinions :3 #stay tuned for part two my lovelies~#Spotify

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admiringlove · 3 years

Text

hurtful things

+synopsis: genshin boys and the hurtful things they said.

+genre: angst; headcanons.

+characters: kaeya; diluc; childe; zhongli.

+warnings: swearing; crying; implied panic attack.

+order: hey bubs! i saw you doing requests and i HAD to ask for genshin angst :) spare me some tears pls <//3 preferably w kaeya or diluc or childe :) [submitted by @crackheadsara]

+author’s note: okay so i included zhongli bc he’s the love of my life, also i needed comfort from him after writing such hurtful things :D

+navigation: main menu, genshin menu.

— KAEYA.

“i’m better off without you.”

you know from the way your door was knocked in the middle of the night on a weekday after months, that it’s kaeya. you rub your eyes sleepily, trudging towards the door as anger and doubt fuse into a nasty green in your mind.

you unlock the door, pulling it open to see the man with the eyepatch tapping his foot on the deck of your home impatiently. he smirks when his eye lands on you, attempting to walk in but stopping himself when he realizes you're standing at the door, unmoving.

"kaeya, it's three in the morning. and it's monday. i have to report to jean in three hours," you mumble tiredly as you look up at him. the lamp grass by your windowsill outside and the moonlit night accentuated his cerulean eyes and contrasting coffee-colored skin. he frowns, peering down at you as he asks, "may i come in?"

you shrug, opening the door wide as you let the man in. he places his sword on the table and proceeds to walk into the bedroom when you ask, "where have you been for the past two weeks?"

"work," his reply is the same. you let out a sigh in impatience as you retort, "that's the same excuse as always."

he was tired and wanted to sleep off the fatigue from his latest mission. but when he hears you say that, something in him snaps and he turns around, his jaw clenched and a fixed glare making you a little agitated. he raises an eyebrow as he says, "well, unlike you, i am an actual important member of the knights of favonius."

"kaeya, all i meant was that you're always gone. you never write a letter back even if i send you one, and you somehow manage to come back every single time, expecting that it doesn't hurt me. what am i supposed to do?" your voice is small as you look down, hair drooping towards the ground. you're not even yelling at him, you're just worried. he always leaves you alone(sometimes you tag along, but you couldn't tell why nowadays he'd leave you alone without some sort of warning).

"does it ever occur to you that you're just a hindrance?" he bites back, thinking that you're trying to put up a front. you flinch at his words, causing him to force a jeer before he starts again, "you always come along, so maybe i wanted to be away from you for a bit. that's why i leave without a warning so i don't have to tend to your yapping all day. because i'm better off without you."

you gasp as you look up to his figure, now retreating to your shared bedroom. you hear him fall onto the bed with a content sigh as you stand there, wiping at your tears incessantly as hiccups escape your lips. you bit your tongue to stop yourself from crying, pressing a hand on your mouth to muffle the sounds so you don't disturb kaeya. you get a quick peek in, eyes widening when you see him sound asleep and tucked in.

so that's how it was, you think.

the next morning, kaeya wakes up to a cold bed as his arm reaches out to an empty space. his eyes immediately pry open as he wakes up, to see that you weren't here.

ah, he ponders to himself, you must've gone to tend to your duties.

he stretches, letting out a yawn before walking out to the kitchen. he smiles when he sees a plate of food left for him on the countertop with a note from you. but somehow, something felt very wrong about this whole ordeal. this had happened before—he had come back from insanely long missions to you before, so what felt different?

and then it hits him. the things he said last night. he frantically looks around, his azure eyes completely drowned in horror as he notices small changes in your shared household. a few picture frames are missing on the living room walls, your keychain isn't on the bookshelf anymore, and worst of all, when he runs into the closet, half of your clothes are gone.

did you really feel that bad about what he said?

in panic, he runs out and keeps going till he reaches the headquarters of the knights. he barges in this time, not returning the greetings of the guards upfront as he walks into jean's office.

"where are they?" he pants, "i-i messed up, do you know where they are?"

jean's eyes widen as she says, "our associates were having a hard time handling with the fatui in liyue harbor so they volunteered to go there for sometime."

"how long has it been?"

"they left long ago, it's about to be around ten hours since," she says. kaeya's heart shatters as he hears those words. he hadn't expected you to outright leave like that, but if you had said the same things to him, he definitely would've stormed out. his voice cracks as he looks at the ground in shame, "h-how long until they'll be back?"

"i.. don't know."

he regrets everything he's said. he truly does because he doesn't even notice that tears are streaming down his cheeks until jean comes to his aid. he hates himself for all of it—he hates that he has to live in a home where traces of you are visible everywhere; worst of all, he hates how he knows he lost you for good. even if you come back, he knows you wouldn’t run and melt into his arms like you did before. you’re gone now, fading into the darkness and away from him.

maybe it was for the best.

— DILUC.

“you’re nothing but a burden.”

after taking on a few abyss mages and mitachurls, diluc lets a grunt out in pain before you see the slash on his right arm. you gasp, pulling him to the side of the lake as you pull out a bandage and cotton from your bag to clean his wounds. he's reluctant to it at first, but he sits there quietly and broods as you clean the blood with cotton and some type of healing ointment.

you tie the bandage on his arm, a tiny bit of vermillion liquid seeping through the white cloth before sitting down next to him, finally catching a breath. sighing, you look up at him and say, "that was reckless."

"no, what you did was reckless. who told you to come along with me to dadaupa gorge? you knew what you were getting into when you came along, so don't put this on me," he grumbled, frowning as you look at him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. you are sort of hurt, but you know he's only saying this in faux indignation, so it's okay. you chuckle out, beginning, "diluc, i was-"

"i don't know why i even bother with you at this point," he exasperates, looking into the distance behind you. he curses slightly under his breath, his rouge eyes filled to the brim with anger as it finally overflows, "you're nothing but a burden."

your eyes suddenly flick to gape at him in disbelief. you stand up, your voice hitching in your throat as you ask, "diluc, you mean that?"

and it all simmers down into ashes when he mumbles "of course i do" under his breath. your vision is blurry as you walk away from the red-haired man, your body trembling as you almost give away that you're crying your eyes out. you walk back in the direction the two of you came from, leaving your broken heart in the hands of diluc, who sat by the lake not muttering a word after.

he knows he's said things he doesn't mean; he does that all the time, but you probably knew that. he figures you're leaving to catch a breath of fresh air—to be away from the tension-filled environment for a bit, you had a habit of doing that at home. he sighs as he ponders over his words for a bit. he knew it was wrong to display such harshness to you, but you probably knew he didn't mean anything by it. he always bubbled over rash things when he was frustrated.

the sun sets in front of him, painting hues of aubergine and peach as it flows down. he wonders where you are, getting up from his spot by the lake to venture towards the path you walked off.

only when he can't find you, is when he thinks that you might've actually taken offense to his words. although he cares about you sincerely, he finishes his mission first, getting a lead on the abyss order—because protecting monstadt was his first priority. you lingered in his mind every second of every day till he finally got back home. and when he didn't find you there, he asks adelinde about it, who only shakes her head and tells him, "i'm sorry, master diluc, but i haven't seen them come back. i thought they were with you."

it all pieces together in his mind now, how a small gasp had escaped your lips when he had called you a burden. the way you nodded begrudgingly, getting up and walking away from his presence as your shoulders trembled. the way he could hear you choke back a sob, but still ignored it, thinking you had overreacted in the situation.

he searches the whole city for you. he searches every nook and corner, and even walks into the headquarters of the knights of favonius(he ignores kaeya's teases instead of biting back this time). and when he finally sees you, he holds himself back. his hand is suspended awkwardly in the air as he reaches out for you, your back turned towards him.

maybe this was better—maybe it was a good thing that you had walked away from him. this way, the abyss order won't be able to harm you. this way, he won't be able to harm you. this way, you'll be safe and sound, away from the storm known as diluc ragnvindr.

— CHILDE.

“it’s not like you mean anything to me.”

it's not often you see childe. he's always in liyue, and you're here, stuck in monstadt or snezhnaya. it's cold today(as it always is) in snezhnaya, the snow covered almost everything outside as you looked out of your window, sipping on hot coffee as you sigh at the wilting roses on the sill. they'd wilted when you had gone to monstadt and you didn't have the heart to plant new ones.

just thinking about the blue-eyed childish man would make your heart bloom and cheeks flustered. you longed to spend more time with him, really. if only he wasn't affiliated with the fatui, he'd be able to spend more time with you. it had been months since you had seen him, and you longed to be in his arms once again, but who knows when that'll happen again? whenever he comes home, he chooses to spend a night with you and then head back. he'd laugh alongside you, tell you about his adventures, and give small reactions when you told him about yours. and the next morning, you'd wake up to an empty bed with a small note by the table, saying how he has to leave for work.

a knock at your door snaps you out of your entranced state. as you open the lock and look out, you see childe, standing there with a tired grin and disheveled hair as he walks in without a word. he hands you a small paper bag, saying, "i brought you back something from liyue this time."

the same excuse, you think. it's always the same. he brings back small mementos and souvenirs as a pretense for staying, and by the time you think you can forgive him, he's gone. he plops down onto the sofa, stretching his arm out so you could join him. the thought of confronting him crosses your mind, but you shake it off—since he had only just gotten back.

the night is the same as always. talking about each others' adventures, eating dinner by the fireplace, laughing alongside one another until you hit the bed. it's quiet now as you watch over his sleeping figure, his lapis-colored eyes now hidden. you sigh as you lay there for hours on end, twiddling with his brown hair as you wait for him to wake up(so this time you can actually say goodbye).

when his eyes flutter open, he's a little taken aback when he looks over at you to see you wide awake. his brows furrow just a smidge as he says, "you're up."

"well, i wanted to say goodbye this time," you chuckle dryly, "you always leave without waking me up."

"i don't like the way you said that," he says, getting up from his position on the bed. you look away from him, your eyes displaying hurt as you murmur, "i don't like the way you leave."

"well, it's my job. it's not like i'm an adventurer like you, wasting my time around. i'm a harbinger and i have responsibilities," he says. his voice is neither too soft and nor too prickly, and you can tell that he's a little worked up by the way he lightly nips on the skin of his bottom lip as his gaze bores into you.

"i didn't say you don't. all i said was that you could maybe sometimes stay for more than one night. it feels like you're using me, and when you're bored, you leave."

"oh?" he cocks an eyebrow as he stands up, "i'm using you, huh?"

you grimace at the tone of his voice, and when you look at him, you notice the sheer annoyance he puts up towards you. your voice is small when you ask him if he loves you—because you don't know anymore. seeing him once in a few months for the past few years has sure hurt you more than anything, and if you don't tell him now, then you might never get a chance.

"what if i say i don't?" he smirks, walking up to you, "it's not like you mean anything to me. what if i agree that i am using you to make myself happy until i'm bored, so i can then throw you away?"

he doesn't like what he's saying either. his mind is screaming at him to stop, but he's worked up. he's irritated by the way you jabbed at him first thing in the morning, even though he knows you're right. his heart almost stops when he looks at the expression on your face after he says those words, and as he reaches out his hand for you, you turn away.

your voice cracks, and he's sure his heart did as well when you mumble, "i-i'd like you to leave, please."

"wait, i didn't mean-"

"tartaglia," your eyes look into his, perhaps for the last time, as you give him a sad smile, "you don't have to come back to me anymore."

it hurts him as he leaves your home that morning. it hurts him when he comes back months later to see that your home is now empty. it hurts him because he tarnished the you that was once his.

it hurts him, but he thinks it's for the best if you stay away from him if all he does is bring you pain.

— ZHONGLI.

“i’d like you to leave me alone.”

zhongli was never one to pick fights. he was peaceful; his thoughts were positive(most of the time), and he almost always preferred to talk about his problem rather than fighting about it—he believes that fighting will only bring pain, so why not confide in one another about our problems instead?

he's quiet. he's not shy(it's quite the opposite, actually), but he's one to prefer to only talk when absolutely necessary. he's the type to listen rather than speak, saying something like, "we have two ears and one mouth. speak less than you listen."

he smiles when his mind goes back to the time when he said that to you while having a cup of tea together, and you'd replied, "my mother used to tell me that when i was a child."

because it's true; every child in liyue harbor has heard those words at least once in their lives. the quality of listening is appreciated more than the quality of speaking—and zhongli, for one, was a listener.

you, on the other hand, were a speaker. you always woke him up every morning with a smile as bright and everlasting as the sun, babbling about breakfast and tea as he got up from the bed. you were the one that carried conversations on your shoulders on morning walks, you were the one that intertwined your fingers with his as the two of you walked amongst flowers, adoring them as you talked about the contrasting colors of silk flowers and glaze lilies. he loved you for that. he loved you because you were a speaker. he loved you because you were a perfect balance, the only one who could soften his hardened heart. the only one whom he'd chosen to wake up next to in the mornings, the only one whom he'd let ruffle his hair without asking(because he secretly liked it).

so why had he reversed the roles tonight? why was he the one to bubble out his frustrations to you, speaking in a cold and stern manner instead of the loving tone that was only reserved for you? why was he the one to speak tonight, and why were you the one to listen?

it's not like he was actually frustrated—he was only thinking about something else as you asked him what he wanted for dinner. it surely wasn't your fault when he had poured over turbulent words to you. and he knows that the ones that hurt the most probably were, "i'd like you to leave me alone."

he looks up at the stars, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he walks back into his shared home with you. he looks around, and when there's no sign of you, he feels himself break apart even more.

had you actually left? he wants to run to you and tell you he hadn't meant any of those words because he hadn't. he wants to touch you, to caress you, to please you, to make you smile—and he wants to admit he was wrong. he wants to make it right, but he doesn't know where you are.

he walks into the empty bedroom, sitting on the cold mattress as his eyes sting. he doesn't understand what's happening, or why there are small drops of water falling from his eyes. he doesn't understand why everything feels heavy all of a sudden—his heart, his throat his lungs, everything. he doesn't understand why he feels like he's trapped in a box, and the water seems to be filling up more quickly than he'd prefer. he wants to reach for air, but he can't.

he couldn't breathe without you.

he hears the door close and immediately gets up in haste to walk to the living room where he sees you take off your boots. you turn around to see him, his disheveled hair and frantic eyes finally calming as he walks over to you and engulfs you in a warm embrace. his throat cleared up, and so did his heart and lungs as he mumbles against your ear, "i'm so sorry."

you smile smally, looking up at him as you cup his cheeks and wipe a stray tear, and mutter, "it's okay, zhongli. stress gets to the best of us."

god, how he loves you. he places a small peck on the top of your forehead as he feels his lips turn upward at your touch and the scent of glaze lilies lingering over you tells him that you'd been to the flower garden. he sleeps with your fingers weaved with his that night and pulls you even closer if you untangle with him in sleep.

he makes a promise to himself saying he'd never hurt you like that again, and he keeps it.

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struggling-with-time · 3 years

Note

Could I ask for c!Wilbur being a gn reader's father figure? Can be either a one shot or headcanons, whichever you prefer. ^_^

Paring: c!Wilbur Soot x Gender Neutral!reader

Summary: Your life as raised by Wilbur Soot.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, betrayal, hurt.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: I'm not sorry for this, however, I am sorry for if you wanted something different, then you are welcome to request again and I will write another dadbur fic. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Request here.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Wilbur Soot

He finds you lurking around the outer skirts of the newly established country of L’Manberg. The country that has yet to declare full independence.

“Hey there, what are you doing around these parts?”

From that day on he took you, the bewildered child from nowhere, under his wing. Letting you into the drug van.

You grow up with Fundy being your older sibling. Wilbur in the first years being there for the two of you.

He teaches you how to play the guitar.

And while you don’t become the best player at it, you can play a couple of camp songs.

Then the independence declaration comes.

And everything changes.

Nice nights with Wilbur, Fundy and Tommy turn into war planning sessions you aren’t allowed into.

You are the youngest citizen of L’Manberg, leading to everyone trying to keep your innocence

Especially Wilbur after he drags Fundy in as a child soldier in his war.

But you are there, right on the battlefield amongst everyone, and you are there afterwards as you help patch up the hurt.

Eret is the one who teaches you how to treat a wound after Wilbur gets an arrow in his shoulder after a tough battle.

Leading to you keeping to Eret whenever Wilbur is planning. And Fundy seems to be running off with Tubbo and Tommy.

On the day of the betrayal, Eret and Wilbur make you stay back in the van, Eret hoping to shield you from what’s gonna go down. And Wilbur hoping to keep you away from the battle on the horizon.

You are there to patch up the wounds from everyone as they respawn.

Wilbur is now more determined to keep you sheltered.

However, this made you more determined to stand on the battlefield fighting for your country.

You are there in the middle of the explosions when they go off. Losing your first life. Fighting for freedom. Fighting for your pseudo father.

Wilbur holds you for hours afterwards.

As you cry into his shoulder.

Wilbur makes you stay back when Tommy is meant to dual Dream, leading to you being the first to see him when he respawns.

Ah, two of the four children traumatised by a war they didn’t ask for.

You are there when the declaration of independence gets signed.

Getting credited as the 2nd little champion.

And everything is good for a while.

Wilbur helps you through your nightmares whenever you wake up thinking there is TNT blowing you up. Or you remember the day everyone respawned. Or remember how hurt and wounded everyone was doing the battles.

You watch as your father drowns himself in government work to not process what happened himself.

You try your best to help him out, but there is only so much you can do.

Then the election gets called, and you are there supporting him, while also helping your big brother Fundy with his campaign.

Wilbur didn’t take lightly to both of his children running a campaign against him. But he lived with it and respected it.

Then Schlatt won.

And you watched as your father and Tommy was chased out of the city.

Fundy holding you back as you break down crying over the sight.

Fundy keeps you from joining Pogtopia, stating it is no place for a child, despite him working as a spy for them and Tommy living there.

So you stay put in the now Manberg.

You are there to pick up the pieces of your older brother falls apart after your father calls him a traitor and states he’s no son of his.

So you venture out through the big forest. Barely stumbling into Pogtopia as nightfall has come.

And you get to see with your own eyes as the man you regards as your father yells at Tommy, Wilbur looks deranged and nothing like the man who raised you.

He never spots you that day, but Tommy does as you head back out again. Through the night filled with horrors beyond your imagination, and you barely make it back to Manberg in one piece.

You aren’t there the day Schlatt gets murdered, having retreated into isolation after having your worldview shattered. A child of war, now a child of trauma.

But you are there, right in the centre cheering on Tubbo as he’s granted the title of L’Manbergs president.

Your own fathers’ actions taking your second life too. You die in the explosion.

From that day on your anxiety worsen, loud noises bringing you to your knees in panic attacks. It had been bad after the war, but now it was unbearably bad.

Fundy started talking with Eret about potential adoption, but he only ends up adopting you, stating Fundy is too old.

And that’s how you deal with your father’s death. Living with the traitor of his country.

And you keep living. Denouncing him as your father, returning to your title of the bewildered child of nowhere.

You keep living in spite. In spite of the man who took two of your lives and made you grow up in a war you never wanted to fight in. And there, while looking over the railing of L’Manberg, is where you spot him.

Ghostbur

You watch as a tinted floating version of your former father wanders around the mostly rebuild crater.

“…Dad?”

“Y/N! My child!”

You can’t believe your own eyes, it’s actually him, it’s actually the man who found you wandering the skirts of the nation you now reside nearby.

And you turn your back to him.

You walk home, to your place in the castle, outside the nation that has caused you so much hurt.

Fundy is the one to make you talk to Ghostbur the second time, telling you about what seems to be going on.

“Would you like some blue Y/n? You’re crying.”

You refuse, wiping your tears away because he doesn’t deserve that from you. He doesn’t deserve the tears he caused himself.

You never call him dad again after the day you spot him. Because your dad died a traitor of the country he made. Leaving you at 14 to deal with the damages he had done.

But now you are 16, with Eret in your back, and your big brother Fundy helping you in any way or form he can. This includes, even more, sheltering, keeping you as far away from the Tubbo administration as he can.

Because you are all children of war, and they never seem to make the right decisions.

His heart breaks every time you remind him that he isn’t your father anymore and that you aren’t his child.

You don’t ever really hang around Ghostbur.

The few times you do, he tells you of stories of you growing up, teaching you guitar, finding you walking around the walls of the country. And he introduces you to your Grandpa Philza. A calm and relatively collected man.

A murder.

Whom took your father away from you all to early.

You like Friend, the blue sheep is a nice distraction to have nearby whenever your deceased father tries to be near you.

You appreciate the effort he makes, wishing he would have made the same efforts when Schlatt helps you within the walls of Manberg.

So when Tommy gets exiled and Ghostbur goes along with him, you aren’t surprised.

It’s always Tommy. And you are alright with that. Both you and Fundy knew from the start, it was always Tommy over the two of you. And you’ve had years to come to terms with that.

You keep yourself neutral in the affairs of the SMP.

Although you do visit Tommy twice, trying to get Fundy with you, but your older brother has a small distaste for the exiled ex-vice president, although he claims to have nothings against the blonde.

You keep out of the city as Tommy gets imprisoned, but you are there to greet him when he gains his freedom. Ghostbur beside you. Offering Tommy blue, and empty promises it of everything being okay now.

So when Tommy tells you he’s gonna smuggle himself into the prison with the help of the ghost, you are there handing him the potions.

When he returns only baring Friend on her leash, you break down. You lost your father once more.

Revivebur

You get an eerily sense of déjà vu over seeing him, standing over the now L’Manberg doomsday crater.

And you speak the word you had sworn to never say to him again.

“Dad?”

And he looks back, taking in the sight of you, Tommy, Tubbo & Ranboo together.

And he smiles.

And you leave.

You don’t end up talking to him again until Tommy seeks you out asking for you to talk to him, and for Fundy to do the same. You don’t know why, but you do it.

So you and Fundy meet him.

“Ah! My children!”

Fundy frowns, and you for the first time stand up to him.

“I am not your child. I am not yours!”

“What?”

“You haven’t been around for a really long time, a lot of things have changed, and so have I.”

You are seething, and for once Fundy doesn’t hold you back, or shelters you. He stands beside you.

“We had to raise ourselves! We had to keep on living after you decided to go blow your precious nation.”

“But you turned out fine! You are all grown up now, and you still have two lives each.”

Fundy pulls you into him, realising Wilbur doesn’t know.

“Y/n is on their last life. You took their second one too. You blew them up yourself. We are done here we are leaving.”

Wilbur calls out to you and Fundy, but neither of you turn around. He might have taken you in, but in the end, the two of you only ever had each other.

Children of war, never get to be children after all.

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur soot x reader #dadbur #fundy #fundy x reader #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fanfic #ghostbur #revivebur #ghostbur headcanon #wilbur headcanon #revivebur x reader #gender neutral!reader #delias own writing

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emerald-chaos · 3 years

Text

Daydream

**gif not mine! credit to the owner**

So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.

Much love xo.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao

Fingers threaded into hair.

Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.

Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.

Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.

“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”

A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”

“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.

You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.

Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.

A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.

“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”

After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.

“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.

Fuckin’ Natasha.

*******

A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.

As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.

Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.

You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?

*******

Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.

“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.

“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”

Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.

While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.

Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.

“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.

Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.

As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.

Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.

“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.

“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”

As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.

“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.

A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.

Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.

Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.

Sweet dreams.

- B.

When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.

Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.

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midgardianweasley · 3 years

Text

Movie Night

Movie night

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: It’s friday night, or more commonly known as movie night for the Avengers. A horror movie was put on and Y/N isn’t feeling so brave, luckily she’s got a Romanoff nearby.

Warnings: coulrophobia (fear of clowns), mentions of the IT movie and pennywise.

Word Count: 2.5k

Идиоты. - ‘Idiots.’

Requests are open!

“I vote action movie”

“We watched an Action movie last week, Sam.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly looking up and meeting my eyes, earning a small smile in return, attempting to provide some sanity for the man.

“Plus, do you not think we’ve had enough action for one week?” Bucky grumbled, this week having taken a toll on everyone. We were all exhausted from our missions, some more than others, the soldier being one of them.

“Okay okay, no action, damn” Sam put his hands up in defeat, accepting that he wasn’t going to win this one. A few more options had been suggested, Bruce suggested rom-com, Thor suggested comedy, Vision proposed a documentary, all of which were shut down with groans and sounds of protest.

I turned to my assassin girlfriend who had been sitting beside me watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk on her face, her green eyes darting around the room whenever someone else spoke and taking sips of the drink she had in her hand. I nudged her slightly to get her attention

“Hey.”

“Hi”

“If it was up to you, what would you choose for movie night?” I asked. She morphed her face into a thoughtful one, still with a slight smile on her face, taking time to make her decision.

“If it was completely up to me? I would-”

“Aha!” Tony interrupted with a loud snap of his fingers. “I know, we haven’t watched a horror movie in a while, and the new IT movie just came out, we can watch that” He smirked, proud of his contribution to the discussion at hand. I looked around the room, praying that they would pick anything else, literally anything, even Vision’s documentary.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be really into it as they all shared nod’s and “yeah” “sounds good” before splitting up to go and get their snacks and blankets to bring back to the large sofa.

Although I wouldn't admit it to the rest of the group, I was absolutely terrified of clowns and have been since I was a child. If there was a clown at a birthday party or an event, I’d pretend I was sick so that my mum wouldn’t make me go. She soon noticed a pattern in my behaviour, putting the pieces together and realising that I hadn't come down with the flu three times that month, I was avoiding the ‘entertainment’ of the parties.

She tried explaining that it was just a guy in makeup and a funny suit, showing off fun tricks and jokes. However, 9 year old me still refused to attend, faking a sneeze and hiding under the blanket.

“Woah, Y/L/N, you good over there?” Tony furrowed his brows, concern written all over his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I wish it was a ghost.

I regained my composure, nodding and sending a firm smile his way, hoping that would be enough to prevent any further questioning. With a shrug, he made his way out of the room and caught up with Thor to explain what ‘IT’ was.

“You don’t look so good, sure you’re okay?” Nat placed her hand on my back, rubbing small, reassuring circles with her palm. I wanted to put on a brave face and tell her I was fine, that there wasn’t a problem and my heart wasn’t racing with fear, but the look on her face, while caring and concerned, was also warning me not to lie to her. Not that i’d manage anyway, she always had ways of finding out the truth eventually.

I shook my head, letting out a small sigh and turning in my seat to address her. My eyes met hers and I felt my heart settle slightly just by looking at her, she always made me feel safe.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” She whispered, her hand coming up to rest on my cheek, her thumb stroking my cheekbone in small movements.

“It’s so silly, really.”

“Nothing is silly if it’s upsetting you Detka. Tell me.”

“It’s this movie.”

The confusion was obvious on her face, yet she stayed quiet, allowing me to elaborate.

“I just, I’ve never been the best with clowns. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had this fear of them. If I saw one, I’d run in the opposite direction, which was more often than one would think. I mean, seriously, who wants one of those things at a party? What happened to princess parties? Or tea parties!” I exclaimed, my tone becoming more intense as I spoke.

Natasha nodded, I could almost see the cogs turning in her head, figuring out how to approach the situation. After a minute or two, she focused her eyes back on me and her hands had trailed down to meet with mine, interlocking them in the process.

“Do you want to skip it tonight?” She suggested.

“No, no, I don’t want to cause a fuss. Plus, I kinda don’t want the others knowing.”

“Are you absolutely sure? I’m sure we can pull a sickie for one night.”

“I’m sure. Just, can you stay next to me? And let me hide if it gets really bad?”

“Of course you can. I’ll be next to you the whole time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

___________________

We were at the haunted house scene in the movie. There had already been jumpscares that I'd managed to avoid for the most part, but I don’t think I've moved past Georgie’s death yet, let alone have time to process the psycho killer clown on the screen.

Eddie was in a room alone, he was staring at this dirty, old fridge and a white hand had appeared, curling itself around and tapping on the side so you could only see it’s fingers. I tugged the blanket that was laid across Natasha and i’s laps and pulled it up to my nose, eyes still on the screen, but prepared to take cover. It appears as though nothing has changed from all those years ago.

As the fridge door creaked open, my blanket had raised higher and higher, my grip tightening by the second while the hand reappeared, this time, you could see it’s entire body contorted into this small space.

“Nope. No, absolutely fucking not. No.” I mumbled, covering my eyes with my fluffy shield. Luckily, Nat had stolen the sofa at the back, meaning I could skip the scary parts without anyone taking much notice, them being too entranced by the movie. Weirdo’s.

In my safety bubble I'd created, I felt my girlfriend’s hand on my thigh, rubbing small circles to reassure me that I was okay, and that she was here. I shuffled a little so I was closer to her, if that was even possible, her then adjusting so that her hand was still on my thigh, but another arm was wrapped securely around me, pulling me into her side a little more.

I assumed we would stay like that for a bit, until she started to shift more noticeably and lifted the part of the blanket closest to her, and put it over her own head, taking me by surprise, a faint gasp leaving my lips when seeing that she’d joined me.

“You doing okay under here?” She spoke softly, a hint of amusement playing on her face as she looked at me folded up into a ball.

“I am. This blanket protects me from all.”

“Of course it does, the fluffier it is, the more protection, right?” She quoted words i’d spoken earlier on when bringing in the blanket for us.

“Are you sure you’re not going to boil under there?”

“Nope. And even if I do, the fluffier the blanket, the more protection from cannibal clowns.” I’d explained proudly. Yes, I'm an Avenger that fights extraterrestrials and demigods and still runs to a blanket for safety, leave me alone.

We stayed under there for a minute or two, holding hands and sharing small kisses while the movie continued and we hid in our little bubble.

“C’mon lovebirds, the movie isn’t over yet, you can continue that when we’ve gone to bed if you must.” Stark called out, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and retreat back to her previous position.

I don’t know what ran through my mind, I clearly didn’t think twice about the situation I was in, my default being to follow Natasha and pull the blanket down and off my head. Upon resurfacing from my cocoon, I looked towards the Television. Bad idea. With a shriek that I'm almost certain could be heard from Asgard, I flew under the blanket again after seeing Pennywise with all of his teeth on show, edging towards Eddie to eat him.

Natasha’s arms wound their way around me again, slightly shaking now from the fright. Even though the blanket tended to muffle sounds, I could hear the room fill with laughter and comments from the Avengers.

“I didn’t know your voice could go that high Y/L/N”

“Pennywise! You scared Y/N!”

“Y/N, it’s literally-”

“How about you guys shut up and watch the movie? Otherwise I swear to god Thor, I’ll bring snakes in here and Sam, I’ll cut the wings off of your suit.” I heard the redhead next to me threaten, alongside some more punishments to the others who laughed, immediately silencing them, all of them knowing that she wasn’t one for an empty threat.

Even though the laughter died down and no more words were spoken, tears still built up in my eyes and were daring to fall down my cheeks. I feel so embarrassed. A room full of superheroes and I was scared to death over a fictional clown in front of all of them.

I tried to keep my sniffles to a minimum and at a level where no one could hear me, however, they seemed to have caught Nat’s attention as she whispered to me, loud enough for me to hear, but quietly so that it was only me that could hear.

“Mind if I come in?”

I chose not to verbally respond, instead, I pulled the edge of the blanket up, allowing her to bend down and make her way underneath. After making herself comfortable, she turned to me and did, what felt like study, my face before tutting under her breath.

“Идиоты. Are you okay?” I smiled at her speaking Russian. She often switched between the two, interchanging within sentences. I’d been around her enough to pick up on some of the terms, funnily enough she’d said that word so often, my understanding was immediate.

“Feeling a bit humiliated” My voice came out weak and slightly gravelly from the crying, her thumb immediately wiped the tears off of my cheeks, lingering afterwards.

“Don’t be. Everyone has their fears, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by having them. Okay? It just means you're human.” She patiently explained, sparking a question to leave my lips before realising.

“Do you have a fear?”

She smiled “mhm”

“Can I know what it is?”

She leaned in closer to me, lips hovering beside my ear so I could feel and hear her breathing quietly.

“Идиоты” She whispered, resulting in me clamping my hand over my mouth to limit the noise my laughter was making.

“There’s that smile I love.” She took my chin in her index finger and her thumb, her face once again, coming closer towards mine before our lips met in the middle, sharing a soft, quick kiss, distracting me from any embarrassment i’d previously felt.

________________

The movie had just finished, everyone was getting up and starting to clear up any mess they’d made, mainly popcorn that had fallen everywhere, Wanda and Vision being the main culprit, jumping at the scary parts had caused a popcorn avalanche near their seats.

Nat and I gathered our blankets and snacks we’d brought in, trying to ignore the slight tension hanging in the air, and just as we were about to walk to our bedroom, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Peter.

Rocking back and forth on his heels and fidgeting with his hands, he smiled.

“Hey, uh- miss Y/L/N. Miss Romanoff, sorry, I just wanted to come and make sure you were okay.” He rushed, clearly anxious to approach us considering the telling off Natasha gave everyone earlier.

“I’m okay, thank you Peter. You can call me Y/N by the way, ‘miss’ makes me feel old.” I chuckled, visibly seeing his shoulders relax at my response, he was really sweet, never wanting to get on anyone’s bad side. He’s a good kid.

“Sorry mi-,Y/N, sorry, I’ll remember for next time. That movie was pretty freaky, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Feeling more relaxed, I made a slow but steady beeline for the bedroom, wanting to have cuddles with Nat and go to sleep, hopefully forget the movie ever happened. Soon enough, we were both changed into a vest top, I wore a pair of shorts and Nat wore a pair of sweats and we were in bed, facing each other with our legs tangled together, our noses bumping every so often.

“I love you” I mumbled in between kisses, eyes opening briefly to be met by her green orbs looking back at me.

“I love you more, Detka.”

A silence then overtook the room, only being able to hear the breeze outside and a slight whistle from where it was flying through the trees. I’d usually adore this, finding peace in the wind and the darkness, tonight however, it felt unsettling. All I could hear in my head was the soundtrack to the movie, picturing the bloody teeth and that creepy smile from earlier in my head.

“Love?” I nudged my girlfriend’s nose gently, hoping she was still somewhat awake.

“Mhmm?”

“Can you, can you possibly sing to me?” Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile on her face, wrapping her arms tightly around me before humming a quiet melody, sending me into a blissful sleep.

By noon the next day, I had received apologies from everyone in the compound, a couple of bone crushing hugs from Thor and some complementary pancakes that Wanda had made with some help from Bruce, aprons on and covered in flour. Everyone tucked into their individual stacks, enjoying some lighthearted conversation, Nat taking the opportunity to press a small kiss to the back of my hand, I quickly returned the gesture. It was lovely.

Movie night was a rollercoaster, but at the end of the day, I was surrounded by the best people, and nothing would change that, not even the fear of clowns.

Though they’re still really fucking scary.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

#Natasha romanoff #Natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff lfuff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanova #natalie rushman #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanov

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

MC is Half Demon and Blah Blah Blah-

Time for the Group Retreat!

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Lessons 5-6 Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

I’m quite hyped for this one, ladies, gents, and esteemed readers! For simplicity’s sake, since this is before M!MC and A!MC arrive, L!MC will go back to being referred to as just MC. Enjoy the Headcanons!

Since the previous Underground Tomb incident ended much less violently, Lucifer is now more worried than angry about MC’s rampant shennaniganery.

Like... his kid was poking holes in his totally foolproof “Your cow-uncle went to live on a farm in the human world” story. What if MC somehow got into the attic and got hurt?!

It didn’t help that they were still in this weird phase of their father/child relationship. On one hand, Lucifer obviously cares for his kid, and his kid likes him... but it’s also only been less than three months and we all know how emotionally constipated Lucifer is.

MC’s also getting REAL sus of all the secrets their dear old dad is keeping... doesn’t help that they STILL haven’t went up into the attic.

Anyhoo~ the announcement for the retreat was a barrel of laughs.

“I’m proposing, a group retreat!”

Everyone met Diavolo’s announcement with the exact same confused reaction. It’s like the entire assembly hall was doing the ‘Guy Blinking’ meme.

“A... group retreat?” Lucifer repeated slowly. “For what reason exactly, Lord Diavolo?”

The Crown Prince was giddy with excitement as he explained. “MC told me about their middle school overnight trip and it sounded like it would be quite fun!”

Simeon, Luke, MC, and Solomon were all seated next to each other in the ‘exchange student seats of less importance’. Luke leaned over and whispered a question to MC.

“Why are you so friendly with the crown prince?”

MC smirked and shrugged. “Lucifer had the Demon-Flu and couldn’t go meet with Lord Diavolo last week so I went for him. Lord Diavolo’s surprisingly bad at Connect Four but has really good luck in Snakes and Ladders.”

Luke’s jaw dropped in complete and utter shock and horror.

“We’re playing CandyLand and the Game of Life next time, want to come?” MC added.

“Play CandyLand... with him..?” Luke looked at Diavolo, who was still explaining his plan for the retreat, then looked back at MC. “I’ll only go to shield you from his corrupting influence.”

“Yeah... Corrupting...” MC had to hold back a laugh at the thought of Diavolo, who during MC’s visit lit up like a Christmas tree upon being called ‘Dia’ and believed that Mood Rings were the greatest human invention ever, being a corrupting influence.

“MC! Torture dungeon or no!?” MC was snapped out of their conversation by Mammon shouting at them from his seat.

“What?”

“Do ya think there’s a torture dungeon under the castle, or not?”

“I’m not sure,” MC turned to Diavolo. “Lord Diavolo, is there a torture dungeon under the Demon Lord’s Castle?”

There is in fact, no torture dungeon. Presumably...

Everyone packed up and headed out to the Demon Lord’s Castle!

The fabulous seven all broke several speed limits and traffic laws in order to be there early. Listen, they had to get there before Purgatory Hall, it was a matter of pride.

Besides, what’s the Royal guard going to do? Arrest six of the seven rulers of hell and a kid? Ha. No. Not when Diavolo controls their paychecks.

The rooming situation remained the same, Asmo, Simeon, and MC were roomed together, and MC got to watch Asmo get psychologically profiled by Simeon. It was truly a sight to behold.

MC was nice enough to assure Asmo that they really liked him and thought he was very sweet.

Asmo, not used to being complimented on his personality, almost started openly weeping.

So, the tour of the Demon Lord’s Castle began! Asmo got yelled at by his ex in the painting and the usual batch of idiots got sucked into the catacombs under the castle.

Lucifer wasn’t terribly sure how or if he should express his concern for MC being stuck in the labyrinth.

All these new fatherly feelings of worry are very very odd. He didn’t worry this much for Satan, mainly because Satan was usually the threat.

Even as a baby...

Lucifer found himself checking his DDD every few minutes to see if MC had texted or called from wherever the painting dragged them to, never mind that if they did text he’d hear the phone ding.

“Lucifer, don’t worry too much,” Diavolo patted Lucifer on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. “Your brothers and MC will be perfectly fine! There’s nothing too dangerous in the catacombs that they wouldn’t be able to take care of.”

Resigning himself to the fact that MC was under the care of his last choices for babysitting, Lucifer put away his DDD. “I know they’ll be fine, but I’m not overly pleased with the situation.” He shot a glare at Helene in the portrait, who rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

“Lucifer worrying about someone, I’m truly, genuinely shocked.” Hearing Satan’s attempt at goading him, Lucifer, flawless demon that he is, resisted the urge to throw his DDD at his brother.

“Quiet, Satan.”

————

“WHY THE FUCK IS A SNAKE DOWN HERE?!”

“ITS HENRY 1.0!”

“YEAH THAT REALLY CLEARS STUFF UP, LEVI!”

MC and Levi continued their screaming match as the group ran for dear life from a giant snake.

Yeah... nothing the brothers couldn’t handle... sure, Lord Diavolo...

They made it out of the scary catacombs... don’t worry.

Lucifer did that parent-thing where he cleaned the catacomb dust off MC’s face with a napkin.

Yay! Parenting!

Failed pillow fight attempt #1 happened that evening. Because Mammon was obsessed with being the fun-uncle and saw his brothers encroaching on his place as favourite uncle.

MC doesn’t know how to break it to him that he’ll probably always be the favourite uncle and he doesn’t have to be such a dumbass to keep his spot.

Scavenger hunt went on as canon dictates.

Asmo had his diva tantrum and stormed off, but MC also wanted to win so they didn’t go after him.

Clearly expecting someone to go beg him to come back, Asmo was very annoyed when no one went after him.

“Um, helloooo? Anyone going to comfort me~?”

“Nope.”

“Well I don’t want your comfort anyway, SOLOMON.”

It was very close, L!MC insisted their loss came from sabotage. No evidence was found but just LOOK at Satan’s face.

Time for the Formal Dance~

If you’re wondering why Luke didn’t say anything when MC was suddenly poofed into their demon form, you’re assuming that Mammon wasn’t in on the “let’s prank the chihuahua” plan.

“Mammon..? Is MC behind you?”

“Nope! Why?”

MC was able to get to the other side of the ballroom with Luke none the wiser! Hell yeah, nothing like screwing with your friend!

So it’s canon that Lucifer is like, a solid 20/10, therefore MC is ADORABLE. What I’m saying is, some of the younger demons asked them to dance.

Asmo was also being MC’s hype man, which was very nice of him. Mammon also tried to give advice on how to be cool and suave. Beel was there for moral support.

“Alright kiddo, you need to be aloof and mysterious! People love aloof and mysterious, that’s why I’m so popular.”

“Don’t listen to him, MC. He flew into a wall as a kid and it killed all his brain cells. Just be proper but not snooty, sweet but not saccharine, friendly but not annoying,”

“Ask them if they want to share some of the hors d’oeuvres.”

“Okay, first, aloof and mysterious are the last words I would ever use to describe you, Mammon. Second, Asmo I have no clue what you’re asking me to do. Third... Beel that’s the best advice I’ve received in recent memory.”

None of that mattered anyway because MC got swarmed with dance offers.

“Well,” MC smirked and held out their hand at the demon that was bold enough to ask them to dance first. “I admire the confidence.”

The demon’s smile brightened, then dropped completely when their gaze drifted behind MC. “I uh... on second thought... I’m gonna...”

MC’s potential dance partners all quickly scattered to the snack table. The half demon growled and turned around to see their father acting like he didn’t just scare away MC’s groupies.

“Father! What was that for?!” MC huffed, Lucifer rolled his eyes and grabbed MC’s wrist and began to pull them away from the dance floor.

“You’re too young to dance.”

“That’s crazy! They looked like they were my age.” MC protested, their wings fluttering in annoyance.

“Even if they looked to be your age, MC, they’re hundreds of years older.” Lucifer said calmly.

“What about that equivalent age stuff you told me about? Like how Luke is hundreds of years old but by angel/human standards he’s technically younger than me?”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” Lucifer lightly pushed MC towards the hallway that led back to their room.

“But I want to dance with someone!” MC felt their wings involuntarily fluff up.

Lucifer turned and smiled at his dear little brat, crouching slightly to get to their level. “Not on my watch.”

MC’s face was literally this: >:0

Lucifer is out here being the dad in every comedy that involves someone bringing home their partner to meet their parents.

MC was banished to their room, they spent their time angrily reading the manga they had packed.

When Levi escaped the party slightly later MC grilled him for details of what went on after they left.

“Nothing too interesting... except... um...”

“Spit it out, Levi!”

“...lrddiavlondlucferdnced”

“I can’t understand you, stop mumbling.”

“Lord Diavolo and Lucifer danced together...”

“...”

“I MISSED THAT?!”

So yes, MC’s desire to get a picture of Lucifer sleeping stems from VENGEANCE!

How DARE their father send MC up to their room and make them miss their OTP dancing together!?

So they call up their troupe of idiots and get ready to go be menaces to society.

MC also invites along Asmo because he seemed like he could use the adventure.

And because MC couldn’t plan the prank without Asmo noticing so it was better to just implicate him as well...

“Grrr...”

MC brightened and clapped their hands. “I know that growl!”

“It’s not my stomach, I packed snacks.” MC couldn’t see this, considering the room was pitch black (it must’ve been some kind of magic because demons have excellent night vision), but Beel waved a bag of chips in the air and got to eating.

“No, I’m not talking about your stomach, Beel.” MC skipped towards the source of the growling despite Mammon and Levi’s pleas for them to stop.

Ah! There he was!

“Cerberus!” MC cooed, the three headed dog stopped growling and barked happily. “Whose a good boy? Is it you?”

Cerberus let lose a bark that would probably make anyone crap their pants, but MC giggled and kept petting him. “Yeah! You’re the good boy! You like cuddles! Yes you do! Yes you do!”

A flash of light from a camera caused MC to drop their baby talk voice and stare angrily in the direction where the light came from.

“Whoever took that picture better delete it or I’m going to feed you to the dog.”

Cerberus growled in agreement. What a good boy.

“Well, as nice as this is...” Asmo huffed. “We’ve clearly been duped because this is not Lucifer and Diavolo’s room.”

“Oh well!” MC chirped and continued to pet the three headed dog. “Look at the doggy!”

“MC, you’re crazy. Dontcha ever forget that.” Mammon whimpered as Cerberus growled at him.

So yeah, they couldn’t get out of the room, so they ended up opening up the other door and falling into the catacombs like a bunch of lemmings.

Asmo charmed Henry, and they got out of the labyrinth no problem.

Yay! No consequences! Oh no- hi Lucifer.

Lucifer gave them all the mother of all lectures. Satan showed up with the rest of the gang and brought popcorn.

Belphie wasn’t there, okay? Satan needed to be a little shit for him.

Ah yes, the pillow fight... Mammon’s crusade to be the best uncle culminated in a massive pillow fight that ended with MC, Lucifer, and Diavolo standing over everyone’s unconscious bodies.

So they uh... won the pillow fight.

MC couldn’t sleep. They legitimately couldn’t. As exhausting as the pillow fight victory had been, everyone was snoring, and MC was bleary eyed and awake at one in the morning.

They eventually sat up and looked around, Asmo was passed out in a very unflattering position, Solomon was chanting god knows what in his sleep, Levi was half hanging off Simeon’s bed, Simeon and Luke were sleeping like angels (hehehehe-), Beel was in the middle of eating his pillow in his sleep, Mammon appeared to be dreaming about winning the lottery, and Satan was... suspiciously absent.

He was there a minute ago... weird.

Deciding that this wasn’t worth it and they should just go sleep somewhere else, MC got out of bed and avoided stepping on anyone as they vacated the room.

The Demon Lord’s Castle at night could rival the House of Lamentation in terms of overall creepiness. MC had gotten used to the spirits and curses that littered their home, but they had only been to the Demon Lord’s Castle once before, so they were extra careful not to accidentally touch anything. Their stomach rumbled and they frowned.

Damn, they had the midnight munchies... they needed a snack.

MC made their way to the kitchen and on there way, noticed a peculiar room through a half open door. Taking a few steps back to peek into it, they noticed... doors. A lot of doors. And ivy covered steps. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to any of the placements, and the room was... weirdly chilly.

“You can come in if you’d like, MC.”

Barbatos’ voice nearly caused MC to hit a high note that they hadn’t been able to hit since their voice began to change. They straightened out their wrinkled pyjamas and stepped inside.

The butler himself was walking down one of the flights of stairs.

“Um...” Quickly remembering their manners, MC straightened their posture and cleared their throat. “Good evening Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled and inclined his head in turn. “Good evening to you as well, MC.”

“How did you know it was me outside? You were up there a second ago.” MC asked.

“It’s a part of my powers. I can see possible futures, and I foresaw you passing by my room and getting curious.” Barbatos explained.

“Oh,” MC said, half nodding and continuing to look around. A the sound of a door closing out of MC’s vision made them squeak and look around for the source of the noise. “What was that?!”

“It’s nothing to be worried about.” Barbatos raised his hands in a placating gesture. “These doors in my room are gateways to different timelines and some are gateways into the past of this particular timeline. That was another version of me passing by.”

“Does this... happen often?” MC knitted their eyebrows.

Barbatos hesitated before answering. “Not really. It’s quite rare. Lord Diavolo has expressly forbidden me from using my full powers freely.”

“Ah... makes sense...”

“Now, I believe you came down for snacks?”

MC blinked in surprise. “How did you- oh... the time magic...”

“Yes, the time magic. Now, would you prefer yogurt and fruit, or apples and peanut butter?”

“Yogurt and fruit please!”

I’m sure MC’s knowledge of how Barbie’s room works will totally not come into play later. I’m sure.

Solomon and MC graced the brunch table with their cooking. I think you can guess how it would have turned out if Barbatos hadn’t intervened.

Rest In Peace to Beel’s tastebuds.

Anyway, the rest of the retreat was all fun and good.

MC may or may not have slipped up and called Diavolo ‘Dia’ in front of Lucifer. It would’ve sparked a lecture if Dia’s puppy-like excitement wasn’t so damn adorable.

Lucifer’s got a heart... somewhere... it’s probably all shrivelled up and tiny, but I’m sure it’s there.

Everyone went back home, brought closer together through... pillow fights and surviving Solomon’s cooking I guess..?

Anyway, MC got home, unpacked their stuff, watched Kakegurui with Levi and Mammon, let Asmo paint their nails, made and ate dinner with Beel, continued their piano lessons with Lucifer, and received a 100% fake smile from Satan.

It was a nice day with their new family, MC curled up in their bed and prepared to go to sleep.

“Help me!”

MC lurched upwards in their bed, whipping their head from side to side, trying to find the source of the voice. Their room was completely empty, the perks of being half demon extended to being able to see in the dark. No new smells either, they were alone in the room.

Auditory hallucinations were common before falling asleep after being sleep deprived, creepy, but not too unusual.

“MC!”

Okay- that one couldn’t be ignored. It was common knowledge that the House of Lamentation was definitely haunted in some capacity, but the ghosts never really bothered the demons living inside, MC was partly convinced that some of the ghosts didn’t even notice that the demons were there. So it couldn’t have been a ghost calling their name.

“MC! I need help!”

The voice reverberated through their head, like it was trying to hit every part of their skull to make sure it was at least felt if MC couldn’t hear it. MC massaged their scalp and got out of bed.

The House of Lamentation at night truly lived up to its haunted reputation. Cold, clammy, dark, even by demon standards. No spooky old house was going to scare MC though, they walked down the hall with their head held high.

They walked closer to walls and furniture, knowing that the floor was less likely to creak in those areas. How did they know that? Mammon had told them it worked like a charm. Well, it’d work better for him if he stopped tripping over the furniture and alerting Lucifer.

MC was much more nimble and careful, stepping slowly and lightly around the hallways until they reached the door to the attic. They reached out to clasp their hand around the doorknob, then froze. It smelled like…

Oh no.

MC leapt away from the door like it was rigged to explode if they touched it and practically dove for cover into an alcove. The all too-recent smell of Lucifer’s fancy cologne and the increasing sound of someone coming down the stairs made them clamp their hand over their mouth and crouch down.

What was their father doing up there?

He had said the attic was full of old junk and there was no reason to go up there, so why exactly did he-

The door slammed open and Lucifer stomped down the hallway back towards his room, MC presumed. They were about to let out a sigh of relief when the footsteps paused. MC felt their heart drop right into their gut when they heard the footsteps coming back in their direction.

What were they going to say to him when he found them? ‘Sorry! This isn’t where the bathrooms are!’ The last thing MC wanted was to add to their father’s ever growing list of stresses. MC was totally responsible and grown-up, their father didn’t need to worry.

MC clamped their eyes shut and tried to slow their heart rate. Demons were beings of darkness and shadow, they could blend in quite easily. They took a deep breath, cleared their head, and felt the shadows of the hallway shift and cover them like a blanket.

Lucifer’s footsteps stopped, MC heard a tired sigh, then the footsteps started up again, this time in the direction of his room.

They allowed themselves a sigh of relief before relieving themselves of their hiding space and opening the door leading to the attic staircase.

If the rest of the House of Lamentation was considered clammy, cold, and foreboding, the attic staircase was that multiplied by a factor of twelve. MC felt themselves shudder involuntarily when they stepped closer to the staircase. Every primal part of their brain was telling them to turn around and walk away, but one tiny part was holding them back. They placed their foot on the first step, waiting for any kind of resistance, nothing other than the feeling of passing through invisible cobwebs.

“MC?”

Upon hearing their name, MC craned their neck to try and get a look at what could be waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

“Are you coming, or not?”

The cascade of warning sirens that began to blare in MC’s head went ignored as they continued to scale the staircase.

When they reached the final step, they were met with a long hallway, with a single door on the right side of the wall.

“H-hello?” MC tried to instill some force into their voice, but it still ended up quavering a little.

“Down here.” Someone knocked on the wall next to the door, almost causing MC to jump.

Oh. Oh no. MC stood straight in front of the door, and when they saw who was looking back at them they nearly passed out.

“Belphegor..?”

Belphegor’s eyes flashed as he gave MC a once over. His eyes narrowed when his gaze snapped to MC’s. The analytical expression melted into a lazy grin.

“That’s me,” he said softly. “Nice to finally meet you, MC.”

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astrella-writes · 3 years

Text

prompt | @ssoftlydreaming asked: nfjsja ok from sweet home can you do lee eun-hyeok and basically he has to decide if he should risk the danger of everyone in the apartment complex or save reader who is outside and struggling to survive.

warnings | female pronouns, angst, spoilers for episode one of the netflix adaptation of sweet home, if you haven’t watched episode one complete then this won’t make much sense, panic attacks, the general horror of sweet home, eun-hyuk being a logical pain in the ass, somewhat of an open-ending.

word count | 1.7K

author’s note | i hope this satisfies your masochistic desires! i’m honestly so happy to have angst as my first request, and that isn’t sarcasm at all.

The sound of his descending footsteps echoing throughout the concrete stairwell became background noise to Eun-Hyuk as he stared at the unanswered messages he had sent you well over an hour ago. This was strange behavior coming from you, considering you usually responded back within minutes. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, he tried to think of a logical explanation to calm his increasing worries. Perhaps your phone died on your walk home, or you had to work over-time without a chance to inform him.

He was certain some minor inconvenience caused your abrupt absence, although he couldn’t shake off the unnerving feeling settling like a burden of tense muscles upon his shoulders. Realizing there wasn’t much more he could do, especially since all the calls he gave you went straight to voice mail, he decided to wait patiently for a reply from you and try to keep his thoughts clear during the meantime.

Eun-Hyuk stuffed his phone into his pocket as he finally reached the half-open double doors that led out onto the first floor, his ears immediately picking up on the commotion before he looked over at the front entrance that was blocked by the shutters. A group of people stood dispersed nearby, talking amongst themselves and watching one resident in particular as he tried tugging on the metal bracing that barely budged. The man sighed, dropping his arm and admitting defeat as he walked away from the shutters, mumbling to himself.

‘First the elevators aren’t working, and now this?’ he thought to himself, unimpressed with the current situation, especially since he had work that night. He wasn’t the only one annoyed by the circumstances as the surrounding people openly expressed their vexation. Although, unlike most of them, he remained calm and simply observed the scene with his hands in his pockets. Multiple residents spoke loud enough for him to catch on to the fact that the security guard was missing, which made little sense considering this was an issue for him to resolve.

“Excuse me?” a feminine voice sounded from behind him, causing him to turn around and look at the woman. “Do you have any service on your cell?” Despite having just been on his phone, Eun-Hyuk was so preoccupied with his thoughts regarding your whereabouts that he didn’t notice the minor detail of whether he had any service.

Pulling out his phone and unlocking it, he immediately dialed your number, taking the possibility to hopefully connect with you and find out where you were. When his ear met with a high-pitched ringing, Eun-Hyuk lowered the phone, lost in thought for a second before looking at the woman.

“I guess not,” he said, watching as her face dropped in disappointment and she turned to walk away, but he stopped her with a question. “What’s going on here?”

The woman hesitated, wondering if anything was even worth sharing considering she would give him more questions than answers. She went on to explain how every main exit had been closed up, locking everyone inside. Although she speculated someone was behind this, she had no idea who it was and for what purpose it was done.

The explanation caused Eun-Hyuk to swallow thickly before turning his gaze towards the concealed entrance. He stared for a moment, silently wishing for your safety.

―――

A shrill ringing penetrated your ear, causing you to jerk your head away from your phone and hang up on your attempt at calling Eun-Hyuk. With a frustrated cry, you threw your cellphone upon the ground, hearing the shattering of the screen as it smacked face-first against the concrete.

On the verge of tears, you made yourself as small as possible in the alleyway's corner, pulling your knees up to your chest as you rested your forehead on top of them. Your breathing grew increasingly more labored as the sensation of dread and pure hopelessness consumed your mind.

Eun-Hyuk’s words repeated in your head during times like this, when you were at risk of having a panic attack. Stay still. Take slow breaths. Think of something nice.

You squeezed your eyes shut, allowing the gathering tears to flow freely down your cheeks as they gathered at the tip of your chin. Forcing yourself to take in deep breaths, your trembling body gradually stilled. Eventually, your thoughts morphed as you focused on your breathing, rather than the surrounding chaos.

Think of something nice.

Eun-Hyuk’s face filled your mind, the sight prompting a ghost of a smile. You recalled your first meeting which occurred almost a year ago, when you had just moved into Green Roof Apartments. Someone had suddenly removed the towering stack of boxes you were carrying from your hold, and just as you were about to thank the person for helping, you realized you recognized him.

It turns out that you both used to attend the same high school, although you weren’t in the same class, your friend group interacted with his friend group quite a lot. Seeing his face brought back all those times at lunch when you would sneakily try to steal glances at him without your friends noticing. They noticed, of course, and teased you relentlessly about your crush but they were nonetheless supportive. They even proposed setting you two up on a date, because a ‘little birdie’ told them he had been crushing on you too.

Unfortunately, you were in such denial that someone as handsome as him had feelings for you, and rejected the offer. He was simply unobtainable, the extent of your relationship never surpassing polite greetings and friendly smiles until you both graduated and never saw each other again. Or at least, that’s what you assumed would happen.

It seemed fate gave you two another chance, unsatisfied with your prior silent pining and not acting upon anything. Considering you both matured immensely, talking came easy, and it wasn’t long before a much deeper connection began blossoming between the both of you.

His sister reacted indifferently when she walked out into the hallway one day, only to witness the both of you moving suspiciously away from each other, as if trying to conceal something. She caught on immediately, especially since her brother had been mentioning you quite often.

“Seriously? He’s the best you can do?” She scoffed, eyeing her brother disapprovingly before pushing between the both of you and walking off. You stared at her retreating figure in shock, oblivious to the smile on Eun-Yoo’s face as she disappeared down the stairs.

Once his sister found out, Eun-Hyuk became increasingly more open in terms of your relationship. And eventually, after a long week of his sister degrading him for not moving to the next step, he asked you to be his girlfriend. It wasn’t the most romantic of set-up’s; he had knocked on your door and asked you so casually that you wondered if he was joking.

When he assured you he wasn’t, you almost knocked him off his feet from the abrupt hug you gave him, accepting his simple proposal.

The memory faded, and the realization hit you like a truck. Eun-Hyuk was waiting for you, and you couldn’t give up on him. Taking a deep breath, you got up from the ground, trying not to focus on the screams and sounds of destruction in the distance as you lightly jogged towards the entrance of the alleyway. You peered behind the wall and looked both ways. The coast was clear; it was now or never.

―――

You raced around the corner, narrowly dodging the attention of a nearby monster as its head popped up from one of the many dumpsters lining the brick wall of Green Roof Apartments, the location you had been trying to reach from when this all started.

The sound of metal creaking, which you quickly recognized to be the shutters descending, urged your aching legs to run faster as the darkness before you faded the closer you got to the entrance. That’s when you noticed Eun-Hyuk struggling to keep the shutters open as a distraught woman crawled towards him. He reached out a hand towards her, just as he looked up and made eye contact with you. His eyes widened at the sight, although bloodied and bruised, you were very much alive. You smiled at him, relieved, feeling safe already.

That was until you heard a rustling coming from your right, along with animalistic groans, as if something was just stirring back to life after being immobilized and ready to lash out again. A flurry of panicked voices came from the lobby of the apartment, everyone watching in horror as the hunched-over silhouette of the monster with a snake-like tongue began recovering to its full height.

Luckily for you, the monster disregarded your presence as it ambled towards the entrance. You stood frozen in fear as the shadow of its body passed over you, the sound of its languid steps lulling you into a trance as your body trembled lightly.

It was perceptible that trying to run past it would end in your demise, leaving you stuck on what to do. Your pleading eyes drifted towards Eun-Hyuk, hoping he would come up with a plan to distract the monster long enough so you could make a break for the gap underneath the shutters he had been holding open - a perfect enough size for you to slide under.

He stared you dead in the eyes as he dropped the shutters; the metal clanging loudly against the tiled floor. You blanched, staring back at him in disbelief. A semblance of guilt took over his features, and you shook your head in denial.

Your eyes stung with tears, and you wondered whether to cry and beg for him to help you or keep the remaining bit of dignity you had left. The monster suddenly shot its tongue within the gaps of the barred metal and Eun-Hyuk disappeared from sight as he dodged; the trance you were in instantly dissipating as you came to terms with the situation.

He left you to fend for yourself, surrounded by a horde of monsters. You weren’t sure whether to give up or keep going, considering nothing seemed worth fighting for at the moment.

Did he regret it? Of course. Would he do it again? Without question. Eun-Hyuk would sacrifice anyone to keep his sister safe, even you, and even himself.

#sweet home #sweet home x reader #eun-hyuk x reader #eun-hyeok x reader #sweet home imagines #sweet home netflix #sweet home x reader netflix #angst #sweet home angst

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