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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 4 months

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Under Cotton and Calicoes

Pairing: Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x f!reader Warnings: Orgasm control, outdoor sex, smut. Word count: ~1.6k

Summary: In the space between darkness and light, her and Osferth discover the freedom to be exactly as they are.

Author's note: Day eight of the Smuffmas prompts - "sunrise and orgasm control". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She climbs the grassy embankment, picking each step carefully in the darkness. The dew drops that cover the soft surface dampen the bottom of her skirt, but she finds the coolness of it against her bare ankles refreshing.

This is her favourite time of day, the hours that linger between darkness and light, when the sky hovers over the horizon with muted hues of blush pink and lilac. She often finds herself in this spot, looking out over Wintanceaster as it still sleeps, her mind flooded with all she had hoped for when she had first arrived here, and all that this place has stolen away from her since.

When she had left her father’s small farmstead she had been in search of freedom, an escape from the mundane. Wintanceaster had seemed lively and exciting, full of opportunity, though she swiftly learned that this only applies if you are a man.

She had taken a job at the alehouse to begin with. She is not quite sure how she ended up in the employment of the local brothel, a temporary arrangement for additional coin that had somehow become permanent. She cannot deny that the money she stashes away now is a larger sum than what she had earned serving flagons of ale and bowls of stew, however, with every man that molds their flesh to hers she cannot help but feel she has simply escaped one entrapment to fall into another; the scenery has changed, yet the shackles remain the same. Once the money beneath her pillow reaches a sufficient quantity, she will leave this place. For now, she is resigned to looking upon it in the cold light of dawn.

In the empty space she occupies in the twilight hours, she is not the daughter of a farmer, she is not a whore, she is simply her, free to think on her dreams as the sky lightens and the day begins anew.

Her head turns, the rustle of footsteps alerting her to a presence beside her.

“Forgive me, my lady, I did not mean to startle you. I thought I was alone.”

She recognises him. A holy man that has accompanied the warriors that travelled here a few days prior. Though his piety is not without question, when she considers the two visits he has made to her place of employment since arriving here. The two women he had laid with had fought viciously over him.

“Hmm,” she smiles softly, “I thought I was alone too.”

He swallows thickly, blue eyes averting their gaze as he clasps his hands behind his back. “If you’d prefer to be alone, I can always–”

Ordinarily, she would balk at the idea of being alone in the darkness with a strange man, but she feels perfectly safe in the gentle presence of this one. He means her no harm.

“Stay,” she interjects, “there is room enough for two. You are Osferth?”

He nods and enquires after her name, bowing slightly as she tells him. The formality of the gesture almost makes her want to laugh.

“I see that sleep evades you too, my lady,” he says, moving to stand beside her, cocking his head as he glances sideways at her.

“It often does,” she sighs, looking out at the horizon. “But I prefer this time of day. It is freeing to not feel obligated, to simply–”

“Be yourself?” He finishes for her, with a raise of his eyebrow.

“So you understand. Is that why you do not sleep either?”

“I understand more than I’d care to admit,” he tells her, scraping his boot against the ground, an obvious gesture of discomfort.

“But you travel in the company of Uhtred of Bebbanburg, what could you possibly have to escape from? Heroism?”

She chuckles drily, causing him to frown as he bows his head, pursing his lips tightly.

“I am a bastard,” he states simply.

“No shame in being a bastard,” she says with a shrug.

“So I am told, but I am nothing more until I prove otherwise. King Alfred’s bastard, the baby monk, I have to fight every day to be seen as more. All I want to be is…Osferth. Simply Osferth.”

She softens, turning towards him, eyes half lidded in sympathetic understanding. “I doubt it provides any comfort, but to me you are simply Osferth.”

“It provides more comfort than you could possibly understand, my lady,” he admits quietly, large eyes staring into hers.

She studies his features silently, the sharp jut of his jaw, his high cheekbones, the straightness of his nose. He is beautiful when the time is taken to really study him, and without thinking her hand reaches up, fingers tracing the outline of his features.

He steps back quickly, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “I have no silver to pay you.”

Her hand drops back to her side as she feels her skin grow hot with embarrassment. “How silly of me to think you could actually understand,” she says bitterly, looking away.

“I did not mean to offend you,” he tells her, his tone pleading as he steps towards her once more.

She shakes her head. “You have not. It is foolish of me to think I could ever be seen as anything more than a whore.”

Osferth’s brow furrows, and he grasps her hand in his. The touch of his flesh against hers feels as though she has been branded, yet she does not jerk away.

“You are so much more.”

“You do not know me.”

“I would like to.”

She looks up at him, taken aback by how impossibly close he is to her, his breath fans across her face as his gaze locks with hers.

“Why?” She whispers.

“There is a reason I did not choose you over those other women,” he says earnestly. “You are beautiful, my lady, worth more than any payment I could possibly give.”

“Then I shall not accept your payment,” she breathes, leaning up to press her lips to his.

He responds in kind, leaning down, and the hand not holding hers reaches up to cup her cheek, his large palm enveloping her skin in its warmth. His lips are soft, yet his kiss is firm and tender. She savours the intimacy of it, sighing softly as her body relaxes against his.

“Are you sure you wish to do this?” He utters, as they reluctantly draw back, foreheads pressed together.

Her pulse races, her core throbbing with need, surrounded by his earthy scent and the heat that radiates off of him. She has never been more certain of anything in her life.

She captures his lips with hers once more in silent answer, and his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her tighter against him.

As they drop to their knees, she pushes him back by the shoulder, shifting to straddle him. Their hands are almost frenzied, their breaths coming in hurried puffs, in their rush to push up her skirt and his robe, before he tugs down his trousers and breeches enough to free himself.

It is only then that they slow the pace. His head falls back against the damp grass as she takes him in her hand, a quiet groan escaping him as she rubs the tip of his hardened cock through her rapidly gathering slick. Sliding herself against it, she repeats the motion, back and forth, preparing herself to take him inside.

His hands disappear beneath her dress, fingers indenting into her hips as he whimpers quietly. “Please, my lady, I will not last if you keep this up.”

She giggles, raising up to guide him to her opening. “Patience, sweet Osferth.”

They both sigh in relief as she sinks down upon him, the length of him stretching her in a way that guides the head of him to brush against a patch inside of her that steals her breath away.

The pace she sets is unhurried, slowly rocking herself atop him, revelling in the exquisite torture of having him touch upon that particular place over and over. If ever she were to experience what it is to be worshipped then this surely must be it. His hold on her hips is almost bruising, made all the more divine when juxtaposed with the reverence of his gaze as he looks up at her, brows pinched together and jaw slack.

She moans, head tipping back as she allows her movements to become faster and more determined. In her peripheral vision she sees the first golden rays of morning breaching the inky blackness of the sky.

Osferth pulsates inside of her, his breathing now reduced to ragged pants. “Oh, please, I’m going to–”

“Not yet,” she whispers, slowing her pace, working her way towards the pinnacle of the ever tightening knot in her gut. “With me.”

His fingertips press tighter into the meat of her, his eyes screwing shut. She brings herself down upon him once, twice, three times more, chasing the sensation that’s about to crest over her, until she finally lets go, closing her eyes and tightening around him with a pleasured cry.

He grunts, bucking upwards, holding her against him as she feels him twitch, spilling himself inside of her. As she catches her breath, eyes blinking open, the dull orange of the sun has chased away the darkness almost entirely, its faint hues slowly lightening the surrounding fields and expanse of the town below them.

For once, she exists exactly as she is outside the cover of twilight hours, and it gives her hope.

Osferth pulls himself to sit up, keeping himself buried inside of her as she remains in his lap, and they wrap their arms around each other.

“When I return, I will find you,” he whispers.

“Perhaps by then I will finally be free to live as I please.”

“I would like that for both of us,” he replies.

But for now, they will always have this moment, kept immortal in the quiet of dawn.

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zeestarfishalien · 1 month

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My Graveyard Song Ch. 14

(Totally got distracted and forgot to post this to tumblr. It's been up on ao3 for a few days now)

[Masterpost]

Jason looked at the two empty bowls and one empty plate of food Danny had polished off and promptly decides to take him to Rosa Lee’s Diner. They always serve extra large portions of food that stands up to even Alfred’s high standards.

As he urges Spooky into one of the jackets left by his siblings, he shoots a text off to Cass.

[BCC plz 4 Spooky u wel 2 IOU 1 🏠🍝 ur chc]

By the time Cass gets there, Danny is starting on his third plate. Mind you, she got here in under half an hour and Danny is not in fact a speedster, but at the rate Danny is going, Bruce is certainly going to think someone fed a speedster.

Jason is really not sure where all this food is going. By all rights, his spooky friend should be on the verge of exploding from eating more than his body weight in food.

Even the waitstaff are watching this little meta-looking kid down pounds and pounds of food.

Cass passes Jason an unmarked black credit card and sits next to him in order to better watch Danny scarf down his waffles.

Five minutes later when their waiter swings by, Jason orders a platter of beignets and Danny orders Rosa Lee’s own personal special, a breakfast that comes with four slices of ham, a mountain of cheesy scrambled eggs, two pancakes, four breakfast sausage links, two biscuits, and an apple turnover.

At this point, the waiter doesn’t even blink, just asks if he’d like anything to add or substitute.

He asks for 3 extra pancakes.

By the time he's halfway through his stack of pancakes -the last thing left of his Rosa Lee Special- it dawns on Jason, that maybe Danny shouldn't be eating this much when he hasn't eaten regular human food in a long time.

But then again, what does he know? The world is a great big mysterious place and you cannot treat every humanoid looking being by the limitations of humans.

Danny is watching him now, an openly curious look on his face. There's a question in the air between them, even Cass picks up on it.

Carefully slow, Danny sets down his fork and finishes chewing the bite in his mouth.

"You're worried," he croaks, tapping his index finger on the table to emphasize his words.

He pauses, distracted, and looks down at his hand, repeating the motion of tapping his finger on the table while studying it closely. Jason almost breaks into laughter when Danny’s head tilts in an oddly animal like fashion.

If he needed any other proof that Spooky the dog is Danny the spirit sitting before him, this would do it.

His glowing eyes flick back up to Jason.

"Amused," he rasps out barely above a whisper. There's still that unspoken question in the air.

It finally clicks. The emotions Danny is naming are Jason’s. The question he wants to know is 'why'.

"I wasn't sure if you could get sick from overeating. Humans need to ease back into eating normal amounts but you're not human so I don't know what standard to hold you to."

Danny nods absently, his finger tap tap tapping away on the table.

"Hard to say," he says finally. His voice still sounds like gravel, not unlike Cass' own voice.

"Ecto fills in gaps. A temporary fix. Rebuilding with the right stuff now." He gestures vaguely to the empty plates stacked on their table. "Ecto is fast. I'm probably fine."

"Sorry," Jason half mumbles. "I just worry."

All movement from Danny freezes, like someone pressed pause on the TV. His eyes go wide in realization and alarm.

"Jazz..."

Jason blinks and then it hits him with the speed and force of a freight train.

"Oh shit! Jazz!" He scrambles for his phone. "Do you remember anything else about her that might help?!"

~•~

Bill would like everyone to know that he works very hard to be a good hench person.

He's not dumb. Now he may not be book smart like half the big baddies in Gotham, but he's not dumb.

He would have died long ago if that were the case. He's worked for the Red Hood for a couple years now —it's one of the best decisions he's ever made; the guy knows how to treat his hench people. What more can Bill say?— and he's avoided asking questions just like with all his hench jobs before this.

But he'd really like to ask one now that he's stuck watching years worth of security footage...

What even constitutes suspicious activity in a cemetery?

Now most people would automatically say, graverobbing, but Big Red is a Gotham native. In Gotham, no one is buried with their valuables, not unless your grave is in a super secret spot. Gothamites can smell money and anytime there's a possibility of it, people will dig up the grave in question.

Hell, the cops don't even stop for it anymore, they just keep on rollin' even if it's happening right before their eyes.

Point is, graverobbing can't be the suspicious behavior he's supposed to look for, but Bill really isn't sure what exactly does quantify as suspicious behavior to Big Red.

Everything here has been run of the mill, graverobbing, teen/young adult vandalism, or drug deals.

Yes, he considers goth teens/young adults having sex in a cemetery as vandalism too. Vandalism on his eyes, if nothing else.

He hits pause on a big white van and rubs his eyes tiredly. Perhaps it's time to call it a night. He's losing focus, getting caught up in his own thoughts.

His hand hovers over the mouse about to drag it over to close out of the program when his brain catches up to what his eyes are seeing.

The van, big, white, armored...

Now that IS unusual. Black or gray vans are the favored colors in Gotham and anyone, who knows anything about Gotham, knows that you NEVER armor up a suspicious color and type of vehicle. Not if you don't want the cops and vigilantes breaking down your door.

He can just make out two people in bright colors inside the van. They're grainy but not grainy enough for Bill to doubt the color of their outfits.

It's too bright for any regular gothamite. The only people in this city who dress like that are the big shot villains and their cronies.

The two disappear into the cemetery, out of sight of the camera with tools in hand. He scans forward a few hours (less time than he expected honestly) and slows back to normal speed just in time to watch them unload what seems to be some sort of coffin, except it's metal with glowing lines and patterns on it.

He pauses the video again and with elbows resting upon the desk he presses clasped hands against his mouth to muffle his sigh.

Well, if that doesn't constitute suspicious activity then Bill will hand in a letter of resignation and go flip burgers.

Well...time to let the boss know.

Yall thought I made up the part where Bill the Henchman comes in, but I definitely, absolutely had this planned from the beginning. [Lying]

Okay, gonna be honest, I may have had a plan for Bill, but it either was lost in the shuffle or there never actually was a plan for scenes with Bill. Considering I can only sometimes keep my dream memories from mixing with my awake memories, any hope of recovering any potential memories is nigh on impossible.

HOWEVER

I can always make new plans. AND I HAVE! So yes, we have Bill now and I'm going to pretend like this was planned all along.

Oh yeah! So Jason’s text at the beginning says: Black credit card please, for Spooky. You are welcome too. I owe you one homemade meal, your choice.

Also can you imagine being a vigilante? Bc you have at least 10 very important things you have to juggle on just an average Tuesday. This is not including sudden family disasters like a family member getting trapped in a burning building and having to go save them, plus more wild revelations about your funky supernatural roomie. So like, cut a guy some slack, I know I'd be floundering some days. Attempting to prioritize must really be a bitch some days. Just...oof...

#my graveyard song #dpxdc #dcxdp #church grim danny #black dog danny au #jason is doing his best okay?#and look! he delegates things!!!

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cloudlessly-light · 5 months

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Request: Just some good old fashioned hotchniss 69ing…would be fab

A/N: This is a new multi chapter that has a little bit of plot but will have smut based on some of the asks you have sent in. I hope you enjoy our favorite idiots in love being filthy with each other!

Title: Seems you cannot be replaced (Chapter 1/7) Summary: It shouldn’t have happened, but they were drunk. It shouldn’t have happened but it felt right. It shouldn’t have happened but now it has. It shouldn’t have happened and now they have to deal with it.

Or, Emily always leaves before he wakes up, but she always leaves a note. Word Count: 2,9k Rating: Explicit Warnings (for this chapter): Smut, oral, 69ing, consumption of alcohol Overall warnings: feelings, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, dirty talk, oral sex, sexting, consumtion of alcohol, porn porn porn, will probably add onto the warnings list as I go

She first noticed how different Aaron was from Hotch that first super bowl weekend she spent with the team out at a bar. He was more relaxed, joking and teasing as Haley sat beside him. They seemed happy, almost oblivious to the outside world as he dragged her onto the makeshift dance floor next to Derek.

But there was something about the way Haley’s eyes were lazed with a silent panic, something about the way Aaron was touching her in a way that seemed almost desperate that makes Emily take pause.

She finds out later that their marriage is strained, that Haley always felt like his second choice and the guilt Aaron felt was never-ending.

When he’s served divorce papers, Emily almost finds it cruel, the way the legal courier shows up at the office, in front of everyone. She thinks that Haley could have just given them to him herself, behind closed doors. But this way the hurt is worse for him and she realizes that it’s what Haley had wanted, some type of revenge for choosing strangers in need before herself and their child.

And Emily wonders why something in her chest clenches achingly at the empty look in his eyes as he leaves them with the papers in hand.

He doesn’t mention it in front of her, doesn’t talk about it with anybody except Dave. But then he comes back with Spencer after the disastrous interview with Chester Hardwick and she sees the signed divorce papers on his desk that same day. He catches her eyes on the papers but doesn’t say anything, so she doesn’t either, just leaves the files in her hand silently on his desk.

When she gets home that night something feels off, something nagging at her. He always checks in with them when he notices if something is wrong with them, she wonders if anybody checks in on him.

She sends him a text before she can talk herself out of it.

Emily: Are you okay?

The ding of an incoming text comes just after she had ordered dinner for herself and had changed into a pair of tights and a loose shirt.

Aaron: It’s been a long day.

For a moment she wonders if that’s his way of politely telling her mind her own business and stay out of his private life, but she had never been one for beating around the bush.

Emily: Do you want to talk about it?

To her surprise, he texts her back instantly, and in that one word their relationship changed forever.

Aaron: Yes.

She quickly called the restaurant back and changed her order for two and grabbed her bag.

Emily: I’ll be at yours in 20.

“In the end, I just wasn’t enough. I don’t blame her.” He says as he sits on the couch that still smells new. His eyes are closed, head leaning back against the backrest, the scotch forgotten in front of him on the coffee table. He’s had too many, she has too and somewhere in the back of his mind he makes a note to make sure to call her a cab later.

“I do.” She says bluntly and Aaron looks at her with a mix of amusement and irritation and she marvels how he manages to look both at the same time. But the corner of his mouth was quivering upwards, while his eyebrows remained furrowed in what she once thought was a permanent frown. “I don’t mean that I don’t understand her side of it, I do. But thanks to you, horrible people are behind bars and innocent lives have been saved.”

“She knows that. But she got tired of feeling like I always put you before her.”

“Me?” Her eyes snaps to his and he’s immediately tenses, even through the slight blurriness of alcohol and defeat.

“The team.” The correction makes her exhale softly but his eyes stay on hers and she has trouble looking away.

“Of course.”

The room goes silent, tension suddenly thick and awkward as they continue to look at each other. Emily could feel the way he was studying her intensely and she felt a tingle creep down her spine in response.

“Prentiss?” He says and his voice is suddenly breathier, lower and the sound makes a dull ache settle between her thighs. The way his eyes move over her body quickly is almost undetectable, but she catches it and it makes her swallow hard, her throat suddenly dry.

“Hotch?” She questions and this time the smile he had forced away appears on his face.

“Thank you for coming over.” His warm hand lands on her shoulder and she thinks that this is the first time he’s touched her purposefully.

“Not a problem.” She tries to keep the very inappropriate thoughts away, hopes that he doesn’t notice the way her cheeks heat or the way her pulse quickens. She swallows down the rest of her own liquor, the burn of it no longer present but the warmth of it still fills her belly in a pleasant way. When she stands up a few moments later, he’s quick to stand too. “I should get going.” She mumbles, the flush still on her cheeks and eyes now anywhere but near him.

Aaron follows her as she heads to the door to grab her jacket.

“I’ll call you a cab.” He says and she nods in agreement.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Whatever she had expected in that moment, it was not Aaron leaning forward to open the door, just as she turned, causing her to knock into his chest and his hands grabbed onto her waist to steady her.

“Sorry.” He muttered, face so close to hers that his breath fell against her cheek.

“It’s okay.” It came out breathy, and she felt his fingers dig into her for a second. Her eyes flitted from his down to his mouth and then up again. His pupils were dilated, his hands not letting go of her. It was wrong, she knew that, he knew that. Later she would blame the alcohol for what happened between them, but right then she didn’t want to leave, didn’t want him to let go. “Hotch, I-”

Whatever else she was going to say was cut off by his lips on hers, soft, but determined as he kissed her. The soft sound of surprise that leaves her, is swallowed up by him as one of his hands move from her waist to the back of her neck, keeping her close and not breaking the kiss.

They shouldn’t do this, this was the worst thing they could do, but the thought disappears the moment he presses her back against the door, his thigh in between hers and pushing against her. The happy murmur that escapes him when he feels the heat of her is low and dark and she immediately feels the need to hear it again. She moves a hand under his shirt, feels the warmth of his back against the palm of her hand and when her short nails dig into him he groans again and Emily know that any logic and reason is gone.

When they break apart they’re panting, lips swollen and eyes heated and Emily only nods quickly before he’s picking her up with impressive ease. His hands are huge, she thinks as he grabs her ass and her legs wrap around his waist and he walks them towards his bedroom. His lips are soft, his stubble rough, as he kisses down her neck and the mix of sensations makes her mewl and pull on his shirt greedily.

Before she actually gets the shirt off him, he’s throwing her on the bed, a smug grin on his face when she yelps in surprise and she laughs breathlessly in return.

“Come here.” She beckons him and pulls her shirt off. By the time it lands on the floor Aaron is kneeling between her legs, his hands on her hips and eyes dark as he starts to pull her tights down her legs. She lifts her hips enough for him to get them off her and when he looks down at her in just her underwear she feels self-conscious for a moment.

“Gorgeous.” He says like he can read her mind. “Fucking perfect.” The words are growled against her lips before he kisses her again, his tongue pushing past her lips and taking control and she lets him. His hips press against hers, and she feels the bulge of him through his pants and her hips rocks into his with a gasp.

“How come I’m almost naked and you’re still fully dressed?” She whispers when he pulls back to kiss down her neck again. The low hum vibrates against her pulse as he smile’s against her skin.

“That’s a very good question.” He gets up on his knees again and pulls his shirt off and she feels her mouth water at the sight of him. He looks powerful, subtle muscle under soft skin, the fine hairs on his chest that trail down to where his pants are still on, hiding his erection from her but there’s no mistaking the outline of him beneath the dark fabric, hard, huge. When he palms his erection over his pants she licks her lips and his eyes flash with want. His pants soon join the shirt on the floor and while Emily gets her bra off he’s kicking away his boxers and then tugs her panties down.

She’s just about to pull him down to her when he lays down beside her.

“Sit on my face.” His voice is thick with need, his fingers trembling when he reaches for her.

“What?” She freezes for a moment but the flush on her cheeks is instant.

“Sit on my face.” He says it again with a smirk and in the corner of her eye she sees his cock twitch as it lays on his stomach, thick and heavy. She knows that this is his own way of taking some of the control he’s felt like he’s lost the last couple of months back. When she nods the look on his face turns close to wild, and his tongue darts out to lick over his bottom lip.

She’s careful as she straddles his face but he’s quick to pull her down, his arms strong as he grabs her thighs. The first swipe of his tongue is agonizingly slow, starting from her clit and moving through her lips until he can push his tongue deep inside of her. She moans and her hips move against his face in response and she hears him hum in satisfaction before doing it again, just as slowly.

Emily hadn’t realized just how wound up she had been until she felt his tongue against her wet flesh, teasing as he flicks her clit quickly with the tip of his tongue and then delves it inside of her again and again and again.

“Hotch, fuck I-” The feeling of his lips suddenly around her clit makes her hips jerk and she falls forward, barely catching herself with one hand on his hip and the other on the bed. “Jesus Christ.” She gasps, eyes closed tight as he sucks greedily, fingers gripping hard to keep her in place. When she opens her eyes she quickly sees his cock, swollen and leaking and she takes him in her mouth without warning.

“Fuck!” He hisses at the sudden pleasure, the heat of her mouth something he hadn’t expected. Her tongue is soft but wicked as she licks around him, tasting the precum with a moan and then pushing further down until he feels her throat contract and she pulls back. It takes him another few seconds before he’s able to focus on her again and Emily feels smug as she swallows around him. Then his hold on her tightens again and his mouth is back on her. It’s obvious that he’s done teasing as he licks over her clit with a broad tongue and not long after she feels two of his thick fingers press inside of her.

She moans, the sound muffled around his shaft as she continues to suck and lick everywhere she can reach, trying to give as good as she’s getting. The groans from him spurs her on, makes her bop her head in time with his pumping fingers. When the hand still on her hip tightens enough to bruise she sucks in a breath, the slight pain only blurring into pleasure when he sucks her clit.

“I-I’m close.” She pulls off him to pant out, breathy moans falling from her as she uses her hand to jerk him.

“Good.” He grunts quickly before licking quickly over her clit and curling his fingers against her, making her hips twitch.

Emily licks over the tip of him, swallows down the salty taste of him before taking the head between her lips. Her tongue runs across it and around it and he jerks up against her, so she does it again, licks and sucks a little harder, pumps his base with her hand and she feels his thighs tensing.

Like it’s a contest he refuses to lose, he’s dragging the pleasure from her body with sure movements. He grazes her teeth against her clit and then sucks it between his lips just as fingers push a little harder into her and then she’s coming with a muffled cry.

Her hips grind into his face as her body trembles in pleasure and Aaron keeps going, even when she’s sure her movements must make it impossible for him to breathe. His cock is still in her mouth, her moans vibrating against his shaft. Somehow she’s still lazily pumping him and he’s so close that the moment Emily’s come down from her high and sucks the tip of him he groans and tenses.

“Fuck, stop I’m going to-”

The flick of her tongue and the twist of her hand is enough to make him come, his orgasm intense as he shudders underneath her. Through blurry pleasure he feels her swallow down his release, her hand not stopping as she drags pleasure from his body. She continues until he’s oversensitive and he rolls her off him with a breathless laugh.

“Shit that was intense.” He chuckles as she joins him as she sits up beside him.

“It was great.” She grins and runs her hair through her messy hair.

“But,” his eyes move over her naked body, another surge of arousal already settling low in his stomach. “I had every intention of fucking you.”

“And what are we going to do about that?” Her eyebrow arches and her teeth dig into her bottom lip to keep her smile at bay. His hands are on her within seconds, pulling her down and hovering above her as she laughs again.

“I guess you’re going to have to come on my fingers until I’m hard again.”

She whimpers when two fingers press back inside of her, twisting and pulling and his smirk deepens. Emily hadn’t thought that he’d be like this and even though she didn’t want to admit to it, she had wondered what he was like in bed. But whatever she had thought it wasn’t this. She secretly wondered if it was because they had been drinking, that he felt free enough to be this carefree and self-assured because of lowered inhibitions. But she couldn’t think about it, not when his palm pressed against her already swollen clit and his mouth was around a nipple, sucking just enough to make her back arch into him.

“Don’t stop.” She whimpered and he let go of her breast.

“That’s it, squeeze my fingers just like that.” He continued to whisper dirty words against her ear until she was straining and her fingers were gripping the sheets in tight fists. When she comes again he mutters words of encouragement that she just barely hears over the ringing in her ears.

She’s panting and sweaty by the time he turns her around on all fours and enters her with a grunt that’s just as loud as her moan. They fuck in the way Emily loves and the way she’s pretty sure Aaron hasn’t for years. Hands are heavy and grabbing, bodies twisting and straining in pleasure, lips searching and tongues tasting.

By the time Aaron comes inside of her, she’s exhausted, muscles burning and brain foggy from the many orgasms he’s pulled from her like he had some secret manual to how her body works.

He pulls her against him, still panting as he settles onto his side and fits her against him. She pretends that she doesn’t know that she should leave, wants to give them both a few more minutes of this and as she feels her eyelids getting heavy she feels his breathing evening out behind her.

Aaron wakes up the next morning with the kind of headache you only get from drinking too much. His tongue feels dry in his mouth, the room spins slightly and then memories from the previous night flood his brain. His eyes land on the empty spot beside him, quickly finds the receipt from the dinner they had the night before, words scribbled on the back of it. Through blurry eyes he reaches for it reads it, not knowing if he’s relieved or not by the lack of his subordinate in his bed.

Thought it would be best if I left before you woke up – Prentiss

#hotchniss smut #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotch x emily #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #aaron x emily #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss smut

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n0v4t33z · 7 months

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Dark Desires: Chapter I - The Cat's Out of the Bag

Pairings: VampireCatHybrid~Seonghwa x Female Reader, VampireCatHybrid~Ateez x Female Reader

Genre: Horror, Angst, Romance, Vampire Ateez, Paranormal?

Word Count: 7.6k

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Violence, Language, mentions blood, Magic, Fantasy, Some Fluff, Highly Suggestive at times (This is a warning for the whole story overall)

Chapter specific: kidnapping, non-sexual nudity, flirting, blood, lying?

Author's Note💌: Hi! So this is the first chapter of a story that I've been working on for a while, long ago when "The Black Cat Nero" first came out and since it's October I figured it would be nice for me to post I also just wanted to join the other fic writers posting a Halloween themed fic but since I cannot write smut for the life of me for Kinktober I decided to just post this instead. I haven't fully edited this story so I'm sorry if it's cringe in some parts but I'll try my best to fix those parts eventually. In the meantime I hope you guys like it! Please be kind! 🌙🐈‍⬛

Spotify Playlist 🩸

☽ ──── ༺𖤐༻ ──── ☾

On a chilly autumn night right after an exhausting shift at work, I close the store and bid goodbye to my co workers for the day. It was dark outside now and the sky was awfully empty tonight except for the moon, it wasn’t a full moon just yet but just as beautiful. So while walking to my bus stop, I come across a black cat with mesmerizing amethyst colored eyes. "Woah, I've never seen a purple eyed cat...hm that’s so weird. Is it maybe my eyes playing a trick on me?" I blink and slowly walk over to the cat and turn on the flashlight on my phone “Come here kitty are you hungry?” I look at the cat’s eyes and they were indeed a beautiful amethyst color. Wow, that’s so cool. It must be some sort of rare defect. The cat walks over to me purring and rubbing its tiny little head on me. I put down my phone on the ground gently pet its soft black fur while reaching into my purse with my other hand "You're so cute…Look, I’ve got a snack!"

I grab the Tupperware containing the leftover meat from lunch and set it in front of the cat so that it could eat. I happily watch the cat eat the meat in the small bowl while gently petting its tiny little head. Suddenly behind me I hear metal scraping on the floor and to my surprise I turn to see a man whose eyes are almost a dead like hue of greyish blue, with scratches on his chest and cheek area along with a huge bruise on his left cheek. He was wearing a velvet jacket and a black silk shirt exposing most of his chest and his ash brown hair was pulled up with a few hairs framing his pale lifeless face. Without saying anything he smirks raising the shovel above his head and before I'm able to scream he brings down the shovel and hits me behind the head making everything go black.

I slowly open my eyes holding my head in my hands tightly only to feel a throbbing headache, when I look around I see I’m in some sort of abandoned church with 8 very handsome deathly pale guys looking straight at me with one of them being the same man from before with the shovel. I noticed that one of them had purple eyes, kind of like the same ones that stray cat that I fed on the street. Could it be that guy was the cat I saw? No. It can’t be. That’s physically impossible. When it finally dawns on me the severe situation I’m in I sit up and I scoot away from them sensing a bit of tension in the room "Wait. Who are you guys? Why am I here…" The man with the velvet jacket (Who was no longer wearing it) walks up to me and kneels on one knee and with his ice cold hand lifting up my chin and smirks in satisfaction "You my dear, are going to be working for us. So forget the life you had before because you have a new one here and it's to serve us."

My bottom lip trembles and my eyes well up with tears, almost in an instant warm tears stream down my cheeks. The pale man in front of me wipes away my tears and says in a slight menacing tone "Don't cry, we're not going to hurt you. right guys?" Not believing a word he says I shake my head and begin to cry "No. Please, let me go….I swear I’ll do anything." He chuckles while he strokes my cheek with his thumb "Will you?…" he clicks his tongue "Or are you just lying because you’re scared right now? Look at you, you’re shaking.." I glance down at my hands and notice they were in fact shaking. I feel kind of weak, I feel nauseous, I don't feel so good. "Let me introduce myself I'm Hongjoong, pleased to meet you Miss..." he raises his eyebrow waiting for an answer "I, uh- I'm y/n." I stammer causing him to smile "That's a beautiful name, well Miss y/n you are to address all 8 of us as your Masters at all times." He turns around and looks at one of the guys "Seonghwa, can you please get Miss y/n cleaned up and dressed. Out of everyone here I trust you won't try to pull anything stupid since you're the eldest here and are more in control of your erm...urges." A tall and slender man with hair a beautiful shade of silver, dressed all in black with a black velvet jacket and a long black satin cape, his eyes being that of a dark emerald green hue with a light golden ring around the pupil steps up next to me. He was beautiful, tall and unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. His demeanor seemed very cold with a very intimidating gaze but as soon as his eyes met mine they softened. "Come, let's get you cleaned up. Hongjoong left you so dirty."

He gently takes my trembling hand and leads me to a dark room and turns on the light and a few candles. He closes the door behind us and he walks over to the bathtub to run a bath then turns to me and warmly smiles "Your bath is ready, don't worry I'm not going to look I'll wait outside for a few minutes then I'll bring you some warm towels." I nod and wait until he was gone. Maybe if I cooperate they’ll let me go? Actually, something doesn’t feel right. The energy here feels wrong, something evil is here and I can feel it.

I get in the warm bubbly bath and let out a deep sigh still shook up from the whole situation. I’m starting to feel homesick. I didn’t even get to tell my mom goodbye, My eyes well up in tears again and I silently begin to cry. I miss home. I had no idea where I was much less know when I'd be able to see my family again. I hear a sudden knock at my door and see the beautiful man walk in with some towels and some folded up clothes he then lets out a small gasp and puts down the towels and clothes on the bench next to the bathtub he sits down and reaches over and wipes my tears away "Sweetheart, don't cry. I know it's scary being put in a place you don't know with people you've never met but I promise they won't hurt you and if anyone tries to you let me know and I'll handle it." I sniffle "I just want to go home Master Seonghwa, I'm scared and I miss my family." He furrows his brows and gently strokes my hair "I'm sorry, but you can't leave my dear." My eyes glistened with tears "Why not?" He looks away then looks back at me with sadness in his eyes while he continues to stroke my hair trying not to meet my eyes "I just can't."

It was silent for a few minutes after that so after I calm down a bit I decided that in order to try and get rid of the awkward ambience I should at least try to get to know this man since he was being very friendly so far and not some weird perv gawking at me. So, in the middle of him washing my hair I ask "So, how long have you been alive?" He thinks for a bit while he rinses my hair "Hmm, about 400 years." I audibly gasp "Wait, what? 400 years?! That's a really long time you're a living history book!” he chuckles "Yeah I am, a very lonely one at that." I turn to him and furrow my brows "That can’t be..There must have been someone who must have caught your eye, you’re just so beautiful. Have you ever been in love? Or have a tiny little crush on someone?" He nods his head slightly sad then looks at me and forces a faint smile. "Somewhat, yes but enough of me. What about you Miss y/n?" I sigh and I look down "Yeah I was, it was the worst mistake I've ever done. He ended up cheating on me and eventually left me for his co worker. Almost 3 years of my life just wasted. It's been almost a year since that happened but I'm still kind of upset about it." He worriedly looks at me "I'm so sorry you had to deal with that situation, I'm sure one day you'll find love." I shake my head "I doubt it since I'm pretty sure I'm going to be stuck here for the rest of my life." He looks at me fondly for a good second and lets out a soft sigh "Well- ah...Um I'll let you finish washing up I'll be right back." he gets up and wipes his hands on a hand towel near the sink and closes the door behind him. That was weird, he just left so suddenly...

When I finish washing myself and drying myself I look through the pile he brought until I find some undergarments. When I finish putting them on I connect the long thigh high white socks to the garter and put on a long sleeve collared black and white knee length maid's dress. On the apron on the bottom right corner was a tiny black cat shaped stitch, and for shoes some black shoes to match. A few minutes later after finishing the beautiful emerald eyed vampire brushes my hair and helps me put on a white ruffled headpiece with 2 thin ribbon bows on each side. He hands me a set of keys and smiles "Now you can go about your chores. Don't worry about dinner for me and your Masters, we go out to feed when needed so just worry about keeping the house clean and doing the laundry. Also, don't ever go inside the white door with the black crest on it. That is strongly forbidden. So if you need me I'll be in my work office down the hall or in my room." I obediently nod "Yes Master." in return he gives me a warm smile and walks off.

Later, while dusting off the picture frames on the main room of the house, I notice a painting of a very handsome looking man, judging from his clothing the painting must have been old though. Maybe? Was it someone’s family member or someone’s grandfather? I hear laughing coming from the corridor behind me and notice it was 2 of the guys from earlier one of them had a scar on his chest peeking out of his sheer patterned button up shirt, he was wearing black pants and black boots to match his jet black hair and the other one with the beautiful amethyst eyes, a piercing on his lip with his earring being connected his piercing, his buttoned up black vest covering some type of tattoo on his chest but letting his pale muscular arms in full view. Along with black leather pants and black boots to match his beautiful Raven hair. Looking at them in better lighting and up close, as handsome as they looked it looked like they haven’t slept in years, their eyes looking really bloodshot.

Immediately after making eye contact with me they both walk over to me, I notice this and I stop what I'm doing and stiffly bow "Hello Masters… I- Umm I'm sorry but I was never told your names." The one with the purple eyes smirks then reaches over and takes my hand, places his ice cold lips on the back of it and gently places a kiss on it. He looks up at me and says "My name is San, you were the beautiful girl who stopped to feed me. You know, if Hongjoong hadn't kidnapped you and brought you here I would have let you take me home." My face begins to feel really hot and involuntarily I let out a nervous laugh. The one with the scar on his chest shoots San with a very annoyed expression then he looks back at me with a small smile "I'm Wooyoung, it's nice meeting you." I nod then I give him a small wave "It's a pleasure meeting you both Master San and Master Wooyoung. If you guys need anything at all I'm here to help." San gently boops my nose and says in a low voice "Thank you Miss y/n we'll definitely keep that in mind." Both San and Wooyoung walk away presumably to their rooms but not before they take one last good look at me. Umm, I’m hoping they’re not eyeing me to take my blood or something.. Once they’re completely gone I let out a long sigh and rest my head on the wall. My god they’re so scary..I just wanna go home.

When I finish cleaning the main room, I walk over to the main corridor of the house and while walking by I hear singing coming from one of the rooms there. I have to find out who was the one singing. Suddenly, from a distance I see a tall man with bright ruby red eyes emerge from his room, he wore a sheer print button up shirt with a long silk blazer, black pants and slicked back light brown hair, he looked as if he had recently fed on blood. He also had a wound on his cheek and on the side of his temple. He looks at me with a very cold gaze that I immediately stop on my tracks and I bow "Master umm…." He quickly interjects "Mingi." Then I nod and forcefully smile. If I said I wasn't terrified of this man I'd be lying. He looked very handsome but he also looked lethal. He walks past me but before he could walk away very far I muster up the courage to say "It was a pleasure meeting you Master Mingi, please have a good rest of your day." He proceeds to walk away without saying another word. After he walks far enough I let out a sigh of relief.

Luckily, the hauntingly beautiful singing continues and as I walk closer it gets louder until I'm led to a door with a single golden music note on it. As soon as I step in front of the door the singing stops and I silently gasp and before I'm able to react and run away the door swings open to find a tall strong build guy with light blue eyes, Auburn hair with a really expensive looking suit. "I-I uh…. I'm so sorry but your singing was beautiful. I've never in my life have heard such beautiful singing in person." He warmly smiles and takes my hand and sits me down on the piano bench and without another work he just begins to sing a hauntingly beautiful tune. Mesmerized, I stare at the man before me singing at an incredible range. When he's done I happily clap and smile "That was beautiful Master, um… You never introduced yourself so I have yet to know your name." He slowly walks over to me until he stands in front of me and kneels down to my level. "My name is Jongho, but you may call me Master Jongho if you’d like.." he smiles and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear "Well, it's nice to meet you Master Jongho you have a beautiful voice. I’m y/n." He sits next to me and and turns to me "Thank you, and you're beautiful yourself." I nervously fidget with my hands "So Master Jongho, how'd you learn to sing so beautifully?" He looks up at the ceiling as if he was trying to recall his answer “Hm, I've always wanted to sing but as a human I just never got around to doing it from all the work I’d have to do to help my mother out. So when I turned into this, I had alot more time on my hands so In all honesty. It actually only took me a few years to achieve my goal with constant practice. Seeing as you're here now though I'll be able to sing to someone again since you enjoy my singing."

He gently takes my hand in his and deeply looks into my eyes "Feeling your humanly warmth makes me miss being alive. I died and was turned into this pretty young when I was around 20 human years old." I quietly gasp "Oh I'm so sorry Master Jongho, if it means anything as long as I'm alive I'll always cheer you on even though I don't know you very well I can still tell you have a big heart." He chuckles and holds both of my hands "Do you promise?" I nod and gently squeeze his ice cold hands "Of course Master, I've got no reason to lie." we both exchange warm smiles until I decide that maybe I should go. I'm probably distracting him, more or so he's probably getting hungry... I get up and lower my head "I’m so sorry Master, I have to go now. I don't want to interfere with your practice time but if you need anything at all please let me know." He gives me a soft smile “There’s no need, but I see you might be very busy with house work my apologies Miss y/n.” He waves goodbye “If you have a question don’t hesitate to look for me I’ll gladly help.” I nod and slowly close the door behind me. Wow, he was so nice! His singing is as sweet as his personality. Wait, I just hope it’s genuine kindness and not the manipulative kind so that they can feed on my blood.. I’m still so uncomfortable here knowing that they can easily turn me into an appetizer. Actually, no I don’t even want to think about it.

After leaving Jongho's practice room, I walk around downstairs until I come across the same chapel from when I arrived. After entering, I realize how dusty this place really is. so I decide to run to the kitchen and retrieve cleaning supplies. When I get back to the chapel I noticed a tall black hooded figure hunched over the altar, I slowly walk over to the figure and assuming it was another one of my masters I stand behind him and say "Master, are you ok?" Surprised, he turns and looks at me with his dead looking grey eyes and covers his arm with his cape as if hiding something. He silently nods keeping his gaze away from mine. In the distance I see a beautiful blonde man wearing a black and white patterned blazer with a black v neck t shirt with a distinctive small red neck scarf. He was holding a wine glass filled with presumably blood because of the viscosity of the liquid while sitting on the window sill of the circular stained glass window.

After seeing me, he slowly sets down his glass and turns into a cat right before my eyes. Wha- this is most definitely not normal. He jumps down and turns back into his previous form then says "Hello Miss y/n what brings you in here?" Still shocked from having seen a man just turn into a cat and then back to a man, I stammer a bit and say "Well, I saw that the chapel here was a bit dusty and dirty and I wanted to clean it up for you guys." He nods "Oh, thank you Miss y/n. By the way I'm Yeosang and this tall guy over here is Yunho." I bow giving them both a curt smile "it's nice to meet you Master Yeosang and Master Yunho." Yunho stands up and extends his hand in my direction causing me to look up at him and smile "I love your cape Master Yunho, it fits you well." I shake his hand and he smiles "Thank you so much Miss y/n. I can help you clean up the chapel, I'd feel terrible if you had to clean all of this by yourself, it'd take you hours to finish here." I shake my head "Oh no Master that's why I'm here to clean, you don't have to worry about it. I've got it." He shakes his head firmly and gently pats my head "No, I insist." He takes off his cape and Yeosang sits down on one of the pews and makes his glass of blood appear in his hand with a book in his other hand "I'll watch you guys, I'm exhausted." I turn to him with a playful smile "Let us know if we did a good job Master Yeosang." He chuckles and raises his glass "Of course sweetheart."

A couple of hours pass until eventually Yunho and I finish cleaning up the chapel and we both sit down on a pew next to Yeosang. "So how'd we do?" I look over excitedly at Yeosang who looks around slowly "Hm, It looks so nice, It's been years since I've seen this place look this clean." Yeosang glances over at Yunho and says "Also, I didn't know you cleaned up so well, maybe you should do it more often?" Yunho gives Yeosang a look and shakes his head "No, I'm going to be cleaning up after you." Yeosang pouts and says "Hmm, fine I'm sure y/n here would help me with that right?" Yeosang looks over at me with a pleading gaze causing me to laugh and nod "Of course Master Yeosang." Yeosang swirls the blood in his glass and gives me a faint smile "Care to join us for drinks?" Woah, what? He's offering me a drink? What does he mean by "drinks"? Does he mean alcohol or actual blood? The bile of my empty stomach slightly rises causing me to get a bit nauseous.

I think it is now my queue to leave.. I get up and gather up the cleaning supplies "Oh, actualy thank you for offering but I have to go now. it was nice meeting you Masters Yeosang and Yunho. I'll let you guys enjoy the clean chapel now! Master Jongho is probably waiting for me to bring him his tea.." Yeosang tilts his head and blinks "But Jongho never drinks tea.." Yunho, Yoesang and I stare at each other for a few moments then I swallow the big ass knot in my throat triggering my stomach to grumble "My apologies, tea for myself not Master Jongho. I'm just a bit hungry now which is why I'm not making any sense since I feel a bit weak." Yunho's eyebrows draw together and reaches over to get the supplies from my hands "Oh no, do you need help?" I shake my head "I'm okay, with a bit of food I'll feel much better. Now, If you may excuse me I'll get going now." I give them a small smile and chime "I also hope you guys enjoy your new clean space I'm sure it makes a huge difference, let me know if any of you need anything else." I slightly bow my head, Yeosang raises his glass slightly to acknowledge me. Meanwhile Yunho waves goodbye and says “We most definitely will you don’t need to worry Miss y/n.”

I close the chapel door behind me and I sit on the floor exhausted. Man, I'm beat.. I wonder how long it's been since that chapel was last cleaned? I'm almost positive it's been more than fifty years. While I sit there motionless trying to regain a bit of strength to head over to the kitchen I recollect Yunho hiding something in his cape when I entered. I wonder what he could be hiding. Seonghwa happens to pass by and sees me sitting on the ground. He walks over to me "Miss y/n are you ok? Why are you on the floor?" I quickly get up "Oh, I'm sorry Master Seonghwa. I'm really tired I just finished cleaning the chapel, Master Yunho insisted on helping me too but it was still alot of work." Seonghwa reaches over and pats my head "I'm sure you did an amazing job. I was actually just looking for you, did you meet all of your Masters?" I nod while I fidget with my hands "Yes but out of all of them I think Master Mingi doesn't really like me. Like at all." He gently strokes my cheek with his ice cold finger "Give him time Miss y/n, it takes a while for him to warm up to others you did nothing wrong I promise." He checks his pocket watch then looks back at me "I'll tuck you in to bed before we all head out to feed okay?" I give him a slightly confused look "You'll what? Oh, no Master there's no need for you to tuck me in, I'm a grown woman I can do it myself I'm not a child." I nervously laugh which causes him to chuckle "You're right, I just want to make sure you'll actually be asleep when we leave." I raise my eyebrows in slight worry "Why is that?" He presses his lips into a kind smile with the corner of his eyes slightly crinkled "I feel like a human like you should never have to witness a vampire feeding, it's not very pretty. In fact it's something I always tend to do in private because of how gruesome it can be to those who've never witnessed it." My stomach flips causing my nausea to come back "Oh.." He gently cups my cheeks and gently squeezes them "You're so cute. but please don't worry you'll be okay I promise you no one will hurt you. This is more just so you can have the peace of mind of not witnessing anything you shouldn't." Something tells me I really should just listen to him and stop doubting it. "I'll see you later then okay?" I quietly nod and he gently runs his fingers through a lock of my hair and walks away leaving me in slight shock. Yeah, maybe I should do what he tells me to even though a part of me is panicking making me think he actually wants me to sleep so I can be his next meal. He's probably just testing me if i listen or not.. Gosh my brain isn't making sense, I need food.

I pick up the cleaning supplies and head to the kitchen, I put up the supplies, wash my hands. and walk towards the refrigerator "I'm starving, I wonder if there's food here." I open the refrigerator and pantry, and to my surprise there were fresh groceries and meat. Weird. I thought they didn’t eat human food? So how did these get here? I shrug and go on and prepare some dinner for myself then Master San, struts into the kitchen sits on the counter next to me and meows. I glance over at him and pet him playing with him for a bit until he begins to purr "Ahh, I know what you want…You want some meat don't you?" He meows and turns into his regular form, he sits on the counter and looks at me and smirks I then look over at him and say "Let me finish cooking the meat, I don't want you to get sick." Luckily San sits there patiently waitng for me to finish until eventually I finish cooking the meat then I go to the fridge, cut open a small bag of blood and generously coat the meat in the blood. I plate the meat with some rice for San and I put it on the table "Here you go Master San I slightly fixed this dish to fit your tastes" I sit down next to him with my own plate of food. He takes a bite out of the meat and throws his head back closing his eyes in pure bliss "Miss y/n this is delicious! Can I eat with you from now on?" I take a bite out of my food and nod "Sure you can if you want to but I thought vampires couldn't eat human food?" He shakes his head while shoveling meat and some rice in his mouth, he sits there chewing for a few seconds until he finally speaks "Well, we can actually it's just that human food won't benefit us at all and won't satisfy the hunger that blood does. Vampire hunger is much different and painful than human hunger."

A disembodied voice interrupts San and I slightly making me jump from how sudden it was "I'm sorry but I smelled something really good, I'm still not used to someone actually cooking in here it's been ages since I've eaten actual food" Shortly after Wooyoung walks into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets. San motions Wooyoung to come over and says "Here try this, Miss y/n is a genius this is delicious I don't know why we never tried this." he shovels rice and some of the meat coated in blood into Wooyoung's mouth, while chewing his eyebrows raise forming a surprised expression on his face then he turns to me in awe "Wow, that's actually pretty good… Can I please have a plate?" I nod and get up from my seat "Oh of course Master, sit down I'll bring it to you in a few seconds" I prepare a plate for Wooyoung but before I sit down I turn to San and say "Would you like seconds Master?" He nods and gives me a smile so big his eyes turn into little crescents, then I prepare him another bowl and set it down in front of him. With the leftover blood still in the bags I use them to make an earl grey tea infused with blood, I set down the tea cups next to their plates while they devour their food. I set the tea kettle in the middle of the table then I sit down and eat. "So when we found you that night, where were you coming from that you had yummy food with you?" San asks nonchalantly, Wooyoung glares at San and shakes his head then apologetically looks over at me "You don't have to answer that." I shake my head and smile "Nah, it's okay. I was just walking home from work is all." San blinks "Wow, that reminds me I haven't worked in years.." Wooyoung nods "Yeah me either, the last time I worked was when we'd get paid in grain." I gasp "No way you're that old.." He smirks "I am, and proud of it." San smacks Wooyoung's arm "Stop rubbing your immortality in Miss y/n's face that's rude" I giggle and shake my head "It's okay Master San, I actually find it pretty cool you guys have been alive all these years. If it's okay for me to ask, what was your former jobs like?" Wooyoung looks at the wall behind for a few seconds presumably to try and recall his past until he responds "My father was a merchant, I helped him load up our carts and stuff like that to and from the markets. It was pretty heavy work but nonetheless I enjoyed it because I got to spend time with my father." My eyebrows rise "Woah, that's definitely hard work but I'm glad it was hard work with someone whom you cherish that makes it much more worth it." Wooyoung nods with a slight smile "Yeah, I helped him till the very end, same with my mother. I helped my whole family until they were gone." I reach over and gently pat Wooyoung's shoulder "I'm sorry, outliving your own family must have been extremely sad." San glances at Wooyoung gently squeezing the back of his neck and slightly frowns "It is, it's one of the most painful things of being a vampire. It really messes you up for a while." I look at both San and Wooyoung and give them a comforting smile "I know maybe this is weird considering my days are numbered as a human but just know your family is probably happy knowing you're living your life well. Maybe in a very unorthodox way but none the less you're keeping their memories alive." Both San and Wooyoung glance at each other and look down at the table.

Did I say something wrong? "My apologies, for the unwanted advice." Wooyoung shakes his head and smiles "No need, we just remembered something is all." There's something they aren't telling me. "Oh, okay." I awkwardly look at the window behind them and take a sip of my tea "What about you San, what was your job?" San smiles "Guess." I tap my index finger on my chin and look at his physique. Considering how broad his shoulders are and how toned his body is, he probably did some sort of manual labor as well or maybe that could have also been his vampire power up. "Miss y/n?" I hum and look in San's general direction "I was thinking sorry, but I think I have a pretty good idea. You were probably a lumberjack right?" Wooyoung's eyebrows rise in amusement and he reaches over and pats San's back "It's those shoulders isn't it?" I nod and nervously smile "Ah, yeah..." San plays with the piercing on his lip with his tongue then looks into my eyes and smirks "Close, I was actually the son of a farmer so my family owned a farm. Funnily enough I didn't look anything like this when I was alive. These muscles are a product of what I turned into, unfortunately I was always very small so I was always in charge of feeding the animals with my sister while my father and his other employees did the heavier stuff. " I swallow hard and look at the tea kettle in front of us "Oh I see, do you at least have fond memories of your old self?" San nods "Of course, my old self was me as I was meant to live my human life and this version of myself is I, as I meant to live it as a vampire." Wow, he's very confident and wise, I guess he really doesn't mind being a vampire. "It's like you guys get a second chance at life, does that mean you fully embrace being undead?."

Wooyoung slightly frowns "I can't speak for the others but, it's kind of complicated. Like with everything in life it comes with its downsides. Unfortunately this life is a bit more brutal than our previous lives were. which kind of makes us miss our mortality sometimes." Hm, I don't want to bring up memories they're trying to bury besides I don't want them to think I'm being nosy. I look at their empty plates and get up causing a wave of confusion between them both. Almost like they knew what I was thinking San says "Thank you so much for the food and tea Miss y/n it was delicious." I warmly smile and begin to pick up their dishes "Of course you're very welcome Master San and Master Wooyoung, it was nice being able to sit down and have a conversation with you two." They both wave goodbye and before they exit the kitchen San turns to me "Miss y/n I'll see you tomorrow again right?" I hum queueing them to make their way out of the kitchen.

A while later while cleaning up the kitchen I hear footsteps approaching and I slightly tense up until I hear the footsteps come to a halt. I turn around and see Mingi, I quickly bow and say "Master Mingi, hello do you need anything?" He nods and hands me a basket full of bloodied clothes "This is my laundry, just came to drop this off for you." I walk over to him and take the basket from his arms "Thank you Master, I'll have this clean in no time." He turns and walks away without saying a word, I then sigh. I can't force someone to like me, so I might as well just deal with it at least everyone else is ok with me being here so far. I walk over to the laundry room and set down the basket of laundry, sorting though all of the clothes making sure none of them are left without spot cleaning. So a few hours later of scrubbing bloodied clothes, and drying it in an actual dryer as opposed to air-dried Mingi's laundry is finally finished. So when I walk over to his room and I knock on the door with no answer. Something in my gut told me he wasn't in his room so I decide to knock again, but again no answer. I slowly open the door and see that no one is in there. Oh no.

I quietly close the door behind me and I set the basket on his bed, his room is filled with alot of displayed weapons from different times in history from the medieval "Morning Star" to the 1920's "Tommy Gun" I silently gasp and whisper to myself "He is lethal...who is he? Who are these vampire guys." I look behind me towards the door "I better get out of here before he comes back." I run out of the room and down the corridor while I look behind me to make sure no one saw. Everything seems like it's going okay until I run into Hongjoong causing him to grab me by both my arms tightly "Miss y/n, there you are. Seonghwa is looking for you." His bloodshot dead grey eyes look down at me "Master Hongjoong I'm so sorry, I just got startled by something I'm so sorry." He cocks an eyebrow and slowly a huge smirk appears on his face clearly getting a kick out of my panic "You better not be causing trouble sweetheart, I don't want to end up having to punish you." I quickly shake my head "No, I promise I'm being good Master Hongjoong." He grabs my arm and walks me over to Seonghwa who was already waiting for me in the bathroom "Seonghwa, I found her." He meets my eyes and smiles "Hello there Miss y/n, time for me to get you ready for bed and tuck you in." This is so embarrassing, is there really a reason for this? Does he really have to keep an eye on me that close? Haven't I proven myself yet?

Once Seonghwa gets the bath ready and leaves to get some towels and clothes I get in the warm bath making my mind begin to wander. All of those weapons. Are they planning on killing me? Is they why everyone just acts kind of weird? I mean, I know they're all vampires but what's with the tucking me in thing? Gosh, I wish I could be at home. None of this makes sense as to why I'm here, why does Master Seonghwa insist on me being asleep before they leave. My thoughts are interrupted by Seonghwa walking in with the towels and clothes, he sits down on the bench next to the bathtub "Miss y/n did you start washing your hair?" I quietly shake my head too scared to speak up, he then furrows his brows then puts the back of his ice cold hand on my forehead "What's wrong? Are you ok? You've been quiet since Hongjoong brought you to me." I nod and faintly say "I'm fine, just tired." He rolls his sleeves and proceeds to wash my hair "You must have worked very hard on your first day today, let's get you cleaned up so you can get some rest." He then rinses my hair and smiles "I hope this can cheer you up but, Jongho told me you discovered his beautiful singing and that you couldn't get enough of it. So, we decided he was going to help me tuck you into bed." I look up at Seonghwa, his beautiful smile, his gorgeous slicked back silver hair with a few stray hairs that fell ever so slightly over his eyes. He's so gorgeous he makes me feel so nervous. His emerald and gold eyes look for a reaction written somewhere along my face, so he fondly and intently stares back at me. I was so fixated on his hauntingly gorgeous features I almost forgot I wasn't looking at a photo of him until I quickly snap back to reality "Wait, he's going to sing?" Seonghwa smiles "Yes, he is." I gasp and cover my mouth with my hands "Are you sure he's okay with that? Wouldn't it be a bother?" He shakes his head "I promise you it's not a bother he insisted." He reassures me, he then absentmindedly begins to wash my body, his ice cold hands touch my warm skin and I shiver. I shyly look up at him he and he gasps.

"I'm so sorry I forgot how cold my hands are, my apologies if it made you uncomfortable. I'll wait outside for a few minutes so you can finish bathing and changing" he gets up and scoots the towel closer to the bathtub, once he leaves I finish bathing and drying off. I slip on my soft nightgown, it was a nice shade of pale pink almost white and it fit me perfectly. I put on some slippers then I hear whispering outside of the door. Hmm, this should be good. I slowly walk over to the door to take a listen, from the sound of it it's Hongjoong and Seonghwa. I undo a couple of buttons on my nightgown for a cover in case anyone opens the door. "No, I already told you we need more time, it's too soon. She hasn't even been here one night." Says Seonghwa in a low whispering tone "Do you know how impatient Draven is getting?! Seonghwa please don't tell me you're already attached to this girl? How is she any different from the girls before her?" Hongjoong adds slightly irritated "I told you, it’s her and all I know is that we need more time, stop talking about this here...I’ll tell you later."

As soon as the talking stops I tip toe closer to the bathtub then seconds later the door opens and I start to button up the undone buttons from my nightgown. I see Seonghwa carefully peaking into the bathroom "Done?" I hum running my fingers through my wet hair "Alright, now let's get you tucked in." Seonghwa walks me to a room with a sigil on the door, I noticed the same sigil under the bed only that it was big that it slightly peeks out out over the edges of the bed. "This is your room, get yourself comfortable, I'll go get Jongho." I climb onto the bed and surprisingly it was very comfortable. I get under the fluffy pink covers and remember that many girls have probably been here before me then I feel a pit in my stomach begin to grow and I begin to feel a bit uneasy knowing this is a literal death bed.

Seonghwa and Jongho come in and close the door behind them, now that I think about it 2 vampires and 1 girl in the same room doesn't sound very safe. Jongho pulls up the chair next to the bed while Seonghwa sits at the edge of the bed then Jongho says "Hi Miss y/n, I'm going to sing some songs for you." I lay down and they briefly look at each other then Jongho begins to sing, the song was so eerily beautiful that by the 2nd song I slowly started drifting off to sleep. Today was so exhausting and my body really felt it. Eventually I fall asleep, but unfortunately a really loud thump wakes me up and I lay there in bed trying to process if what I heard was a dream or if it was real. Deeming it something from my sleep I ignore it then half asleep my mind begins to wander. Why on Earth am I being treated like a child? A grown ass woman getting a bath and getting tucked in to bed from a 400 year old handsome vampire guy? Not to mention he picks out my clothes and my undergarments too? And what did they mean when Seonghwa said they needed more time? MIngi’s room was a whole weapon museum, what? This was too much, it was all a bit weird.

A blood curdling scream interrupts my thoughts causing me to quickly shoot up from the bed. In almost an instant my palms become sweaty, so I get up and I try to open the door but it's locked. My breathing quickens while I try to open the door again but it was in fact locked, I'm screwed. I hear footsteps quickly approaching so I quietly run back to the bed and lay back down. A few seconds later I hear a click of the door being unlocked. I close my eyes and the footsteps come close to me then they sit down at the edge of the bed "I bought more time for us." Seonghwa gently rests his hand on my leg over the covers "Even at that, when we run out of time I won't let anyone hurt you. I've waited for you for hundreds of years, and I'm not going to let some greedy demon ruin the moment for me." He scoots over next to me and although I couldn't see him staring at me, I could feel it. He leans in and gently kisses the top of my head. I can't think, wait. What's going on?! I feel him get up from the bed followed by slow footsteps until the door closes once again and locking the door behind him. When I open my eyes and lay there in shock, I pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. I realize now that this was far from a dream and as weird as it sounded to think that a very handsome 400 year old vampire was in love with me, it might actually be true. Somehow.

☽ ──── ༺𖤐༻ ──── ☾

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november-rayne · 10 months

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Chapter Eight: Doubt

A/N: Loki is in new territory: self-doubt. Thor tries to talk some sense into him. Then he gets an unexpected visitor.

Word Count: 2700

Rating: Explicit for sex, dubious consent

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+

*Minors DNI*

Tags: Thor being the big brother Loki needs, DUB/CON

Chapter Index

Thor was waiting for him in his rooms when he returned. “I see your head is still attached to your shoulders. Mother always did take it easier on you.” He smiled widely and motioned for Loki to join him at his dining room table. Loki sat opposite him and kicked off his boots. “I took the liberty of sending for a snack to tide us over until dinner.” He lifted the lid on the tray to reveal two bowls of steaming stew and a freshly baked loaf of bread.

“This is just what I need. Thank you.” Loki pulled off his tunic and threw it onto the back of the sofa. “Damn that thing to Hel,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck.

Thor chuckled. “Serves you right for not making yourself available to the tailor.” Thor ripped off a chunk of bread and dunked it in the stew.

“I know.” Loki sipped stew from his spoon. “Thank you again for taking care of everything while I was gone.”

Thor waved his hand in dismissal and set into his food again. After a few quiet moments, he said, “You had me worried when you did not return after a couple of weeks.”

Loki exhaled slowly, “I stopped keeping track of the days. I was acting selfishly, childishly. I have always been hedonistic, but this, this was a whole other level.”

“How much trouble are you in with Mother?”

“Heaps.” Loki shivered as he buttered his bread.

“You look relatively unscathed, so it could not have been too bad.” Loki squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “What? What is it?”

“Trust me; you do not want to know.”

“I do. Please, what did she say?”

“Just remember that you asked for it.” Loki shook his head again and set his bread down. “Mother let it be known that she and Father are still having sex.”

“Ahh, Norns! Still? They are ancient! That is a horrible image!” Thor dropped his spoon unceremoniously into his bowl and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Why…Why would that even come up in a conversation?”

“Oh, it gets worse. Apparently, Father is very good at it, ‘amazing’ was the term she used.”

Thor scoffed, “I am sorry I pressed you on the matter. That is an image I wish I could burn from my mind. Again, why?”

“She asked me not to bed Lady Sigyn and try to get to know her. She has it in her mind that this is a fairytale match. She was prattling on about love and how it makes the sex so much more worthwhile. Or something along those lines. I stopped listening after she mentioned being unable to keep her hands off Father.” Loki shuddered.

Thor was quiet, staring at his half-empty bowl of stew. He said, “Lady Sigyn is a unique beauty. I do not know if even I could have made that promise, Brother.” Loki froze, his spoon half raised to his mouth.

“What are you saying, Brother?” He could not hide the suspicion in his voice. The thought of Thor seducing Sigyn was enough to blur his vision.

“Oh, nothing! Sorry, Brother. I was just thinking out loud. I am surprised you agreed to Mother’s request, given your… appetites.”

“Yes, well…I suppose the least I could do is not ruin the poor girl for all other men before I bid her farewell.”

“Farewell? What do you mean?”

“Mother’s bargain: I keep my cock to myself, and at the end of one month, if I am not in love,” Loki scrunched up his face as he said the last word, “I can send the Andersons packing back to their lands. I get to resume the life I love and dodge the marriage.”

Thor was stunned. “You cannot be serious?” Loki finished his stew and sat back in his chair, waiting for Thor to continue. “Father would never let you back out of a betrothal. There is a signed contract. He would lose favor with the Lords in the North and most in the rest of the realm. There would be distrust of the Crown. It would be political suicide.”

“It would serve him right! I never asked to be betrothed! I never agreed to any of this! I will humor Mother by courting this girl, but I will not marry her.”

“Then you are a fool! Father is the KING! He does not need your permission to make choices for the good of the realm. You may be a prince, but you are still a citizen of Asgard. The King has your interests at heart just as he has everyone's. Lady Sigyn is the loveliest woman to have ever drawn breath in all the Nine! Father has given you a precious gift, and you would toss her away like she is nothing? You do not deserve her!”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Loki stood and walked over to the fire. “She would never choose me. You, maybe. But why would she want me? She should be the future Queen.” He ran his hand over his face. “You said it yourself; I am an incorrigible rogue. Why would she marry me if she had a choice in the matter? She does deserve better. I am doing her a favor by not marrying her.”

Thor dropped his head into his hands. “So that’s what this is about?” He stood and walked over to his brother. “You are a prince. You are charming. You are handsome… usually.” Loki scoffed. “You have the capacity to love.” He rested his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “If you are half as loving as a husband as you are a little brother, Sigyn will be the luckiest woman in the realm.”

“I wish I was as certain as you.”

“Where is this coming from, Loki? You are the most confident person I know.”

“This is different. She is different. I cannot explain why. I was with her for all of five minutes, and I am completely infatuated. The thought of her rejecting me is gut-wrenching. The thought of her belonging to another man makes my blood boil. I want her to be mine so badly. Not just because our parents want us to be; I want her to choose me. But why would she? I cannot indulge in the daydream of her as my wife, the mother of my children.” Loki’s breath hitched as the image of her belly swollen with his child flashed in his mind.

“I do not think I could survive the rejection, so I do not want even to try.”

“Loki, give her a chance. You are not giving yourself enough credit. You are a very clever political strategist. Father even says so. Your magic will rival Mother’s someday. There is no one else I would want by my side on the battlefield. You are smart and the funniest man I know. She would be a fool not to fall in love with you. You promised Mother you would give this a fair go. It is the right thing to do.”

“Since when do I do the right thing? Hmmm?” Loki shook his head and ran his hands down his face. “This is all happening so fast. I cannot even think straight.”

“Loki, look at me.” Thor placed both of his hands on Loki’s shoulders. “You are not only my little brother but you are also my best friend. You would never want anyone to know this, but you are kind and gentle. Sure, you thrive on mischief and chaos, but you would never be cruel. You are a good man.”

Loki looked at Thor thoughtfully for a moment. “Damn, Thor, you aren’t going to kiss me, are you?”

“Ha! You wish!” Thor crossed his arms over his chest. “I meant what I said; you are a pretty great man when you are not being a little twat.”

Loki laughed and raked his hands over his face again. He was feeling a little better after eating and drinking the potion, but he still felt dead on his feet.

“Go lay down. Get some sleep. You can think on this more once you are rested.” Thor led Loki toward his bedroom.

“I am feeling a bit sleepy. Mother’s hangover remedy must be taking effect.” He pulled the covers back and slid to the middle of his bed.

“I will show myself out. See you at dinner.” Thor paused to look at his brother before he closed the bedroom door. Loki was already dosing off; his pallor looked like it was starting to return to normal.

“Thor?” Loki asked sleepily.

“Yes, Brother?”

“Thank you for saying all those nice things. And you know, all the other stuff.”

Thor smiled and shook his head. “You are welcome. Now get some beauty sleep, jackass. You need it desperately.”

“Screw you, arsehole.”

Thor laughed. ‘I hope I got through to him,’ he thought as he returned to his rooms.

oOXOo

“Mmmm…. Mmmm,” Loki bucked his hips involuntarily in his sleep. He was having a very vivid dream. “Oh… oh, mmmm…” He gripped his bed sheets with both hands and rocked his pelvis skyward again.

He felt a warm, wet tongue slide up his shaft. “Fuck…” The dream mouth swallowed his cock with a moan. Soft, warm hands slid up his thighs, circled the base of him, and began pumping.

“Fuuuuck.” He felt like he would float of the bed if he let go of the sheets. ‘I hope I never wake from this dream,’

The mouth continued its noble work on his cock without relenting. A deft hand steadily pumped the base, and another occupied his balls. His arms raised above his head, and he gripped the headboard with both hands. “Oh, fuck…” Loki bucked his hips wildly as his orgasm exploded from his body.

He was breathing raggedly, coming down from his ecstasy, as he timidly peeked one eye open. The light from the sun was low in the sky. ‘Dusk,’ he realized.

He closed his eyes again. He was trying to slow his breathing and get his bearings when he felt a tongue licking him clean, fingernails lightly digging into his ass cheeks.

‘Wait….’ Loki thought, I’m not dreaming.” His eyes shot open wide, and he saw the top of a brunette head located over his hips.

“Sigyn?” he rasped.

“Sigyn!?” Sera’s head shot up, and she glared at him.

“Sera!” Loki pulled his trousers back over his hips and scrambled to a seated position. “What the Hel are you doing here?”

“Was that not obvious, Your Highness?” she asked, raising one eyebrow at him.

Loki scrambled off the bed. His legs almost gave out as he went to the bedroom door. He was still recovering from the shock and, if he was honest with himself, one of the best orgasms he had ever experienced. Sera let out a pleased little giggle as she made her way up the bed to occupy the warm sheets he just vacated. She was gloriously naked; her hair was untied and flowing around her. She hastily pulled the bed sheet up to cover her bottom half but left her breasts on display, “Come back to bed, silly.”

“You… you cannot be here.” Loki swallowed hard. “How did you get in here? You were dismissed.” He found her dress discarded on the floor and retrieved it.

Sera pouted, “I missed you. You were gone for so long. I thought you would be happy to see me.” She patted the bed beside her. “Come, I’m not finished with you yet.” She smiled wickedly at him and pulled the sheet away from her shapely legs before spreading them for him.

Loki was frozen in place. Angry at her boldness but also wildly turned on. His gaze lingered briefly on the smooth skin of her shin and trailed up to the soft thigh. His mouth watered at the sight of her soft pink cunt, warm and ready for him.

‘So bold…’ he gripped her dress with tight fists, ‘Just a little taste, then send her on her way…’

He took a step toward the bed.

“Yes, come to me. Let me show you how much I missed you.” She held her arms out wide to him.

He groaned, “I can’t.”

“You can. You are the Prince. You can do whatever you want.” She gave him another wicked grin. “You can do whatever you want to me if you’d like.” She rolled onto her stomach and looked at him over her shoulder. "I feel so empty. I need you to make me full." She canted her hips as shook her as at him

Loki’s jaw clenched as he took in the sight of the perfect curve of her ass. So tempting.

‘No…do not do this…’ The memory of Sigyn’s smile in the sunshine flashed in his mind. ‘No!’

“Get dressed!” He threw her clothes at her.

“What!?” She could not believe what she was hearing. She climbed off the bed, ignoring her clothes and hugging the sheet to her chest.

“Get dressed and leave the way you came. I would punish you for being so presumptuous, but I know you would enjoy that.” Loki peeked into the sitting room. Thankfully it was empty. “Get out before someone finds you here.”

“Why are you doing this? Is this because of her? Because of Sigyn? That whore!”

“She is a Lady of noble birth! She is my fiancé! You will remember yourself in front of your Prince!”

“She will never love you as I do! She will never fuck you like I do! She cannot take care of you the way I can!” She sank to her knees on the rug. Tears streaked down her lovely face. “Marry her if you must, but please do not cast me aside.”

“Sera, pull yourself together.” Loki kneeled beside her and wiped her tears with his thumb. “You do not truly love me. We have never even had a real conversation. I paid you for your company. Look, you are a lovely girl. You will make some lucky man a wonderful wife someday. I will always remember you fondly, but this will be the last time we see each other.” Sera’s breath caught in her throat, and she shook her head. “I always told you not to get attached to me. I meant those words.” He helped her to her feet.

“But I’m… I’m…” She shook her head again and wilted in his arms. A wash of anguish clouded her face, “I’m all alone. I need you. I...I can’t live without you.” She tried to wrap her arms around him.

Loki gently deflected her, “Put your clothes back on, sweetheart,” he spoke softly and turned his back to her so she could slip back into her dress.

She whimpered and cried as she tied her sash, “Please, My Prince? Please reconsider. I will be good to you. I will do whatever you ask of me. You know I will.”

“Shhhh. Hush now.” Loki was trying to be patient with the poor thing. He needed to get her out of there. “You must put me out of your mind. It is for the best.”

“My Prince, please? I have no one. I have nothing. Please?” Her tears started pouring again. Loki opened the front door of his apartment and peeked out into the hall. The usual two guards were outside his chamber, but luckily the hallway was empty. “Please? No, please!”

“Farewell Sera.” Loki passed her off to one of the guards and gave him a nod.

The guard nodded back and took her by the elbow. “Come with me, miss.”

Loki watched as the maid was led down the hall and out of sight. The second guard bowed as Loki approached. “The maid, Sera, is no longer in my employ. Do not let her through these doors again.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Loki leaned against the door after he was back inside his apartment. He took a few deep breaths and then looked down to where his cock was in his trousers, “This was all your fault,” he told it.

A/N: I put a dub/con tag on this chapter. Technically, Loki was sexually assaulted in his sleep. However, while Sera was employed by Loki, this was a common (and encouraged) way for her to wake him.

I do not condone SA in any form. This is a work of fiction, not to be used as a how-to guide for getting back into the good graces of your former employer.

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lorei-writes · 8 months

Text

Winter Flower

Chapter IV: White Gold & Soup

Masamune x OC [Hana] Summary: Hana wakes up in the gardens of Azuchi castle without any recollection of her past. Who is she? What was she doing there? And most importantly – what is she supposed to do now? Placed under supervision of Lord Date, Hana has to find her footing in the unfamiliar reality of the warring states. Series Masterlist

Content Warnings: hunger

The last few drops spill out the corners of my lips. They regroup into a narrow stream, before flowing down my chin, and then further, to finally rest within the fibres of the kimono I’ve been given. I blink. No, no, this is wrong, this is so wrong.

“I can’t believe you’ve skipped three meals since yesterday,” Masamune grumbles, his back turned towards me as he bustles about the kitchen. I do suppose he is my supervisor, or perhaps a host, but it still does not feel exactly appropriate to be served by a lord.

“I –”

“You do know you can’t live on an empty stomach, don’t you?” The lecture continues. I’m not listening anymore. I’ve given up what feels like half an hour ago.

Masamune appears well-acquainted with the space, so much so that he does not need for his sight to guide the movement of his arms, his body seemingly instinctively knowing where just about anything may lie. Pots, utensils, even ingredients, nothing escapes him or his knife. I gulp – if he is at least a hundredth as skilled with his sword… I should consider myself lucky to still have my head attached.

I raise my hands in front of myself, to signal my defeat. Nevertheless, he goes on and on, about the importance of proper nutrition, the (less and more probable) consequences of poor eating, appropriate cooking techniques, and approximately million other things that fly right over my head as soon as they leave his lips. From the moment he started the rice, Masamune has not been quiet for longer than a minute, and now I truly do understand why Kojuro left us alone. Me too, Kojuro. Me too. Had I known Masamune felt so passionate about all things related to feeding, I’d never – never – dare to offend him… Although I do wonder whether it is the empty space in my stomach that upset him so, or whether it has merely been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

The quiet plink of dishes being set down brings me out of my thoughts. Masamune stares at me expectantly, several bowls waiting in front of me – some with rice, soup, vegetables… My mouth waters. Oddly enough, it is only now that I am made aware of my own hunger. My fingers tremble as I reach for the chopsticks, all while I pray for my will to hold up for long enough. No, silly me, no, we cannot eat with our hands… I’ve said no, me. Here, here, chopsticks. Yes…

There is this feeling again; my body does not seem to be fully mine. Whatever happens around, it’s all merely a haze, a distant echo from far away lands. I’ve relinquished control over myself the moment I touched the first bowl of rice.

There is nothing past it.

I need more of it.

It is not enough.

More. More. More…

I…!

My jaw hurts from how low I’ve had it fall, and I only wish I could open it further. A quiet inner voice whispers to me, urges me to have it drop out of the joint, assures that for as long as I can force food down my throat, I will be fine – but it is absolutely detrimental I do so fast…. And perhaps I would have, had I not lost myself in rice. I hardly bite; something deep down has me convinced it would be an utter waste of time. Given the ease with which it comes to me, I do suppose I’ve done so many times by now.

My body downs the soup, bowl after bowl. There will always be time for breathing later, I am certain of that much even when I grow mildly light-headed. It’s so hot it burns.

Somebody puts their hands over mine, just gently enough for me not to jolt back. They stay in place to lull my anxieties, and have me release the bowl the very next breath. I reach after it, but I freeze on the spot, Masamune staring at me wide-eyed. My arms drop down. For the love of all things holy, what exactly have I done?

“I-I –” I stutter. My cheeks seem wet, so I bring my hand to them to inspect it further… And I do find the root of this state. I lower my head as to hide my face, embarrassed and thus convinced it must be awfully red – if not due to tears, then as a result of my newly regained awareness.

A plink of dishes, again. I look up, only to be assaulted by a strangely sentient piece of cloth… Or at the very least it looks like so, for it cuts off my vision as it wipes my face dry.

“Eat some more. You must have been famished,” Masamune says. He drops the cloth – and I can only nod, this time not possessed by the promises of white gold in front of me.

He doesn’t say a word until I’ve had my fill.

“Whenever you’re hungry, come here and eat.”

I don’t dare look at him, but he has none of that. Masamune grabs my chin and forces me to face him properly… so I shut my eyes. He clicks his tongue.

“Damn it, lass. You’ve wolfed down several days worth of food in one sitting, the time to be embarrassed has passed.”

I do not yield.

“Hana.”

Please, stop making this situation any harder on me. At this point, inaction will have me become even more ridiculous than doing just about anything.

“What is it that you wanted to tell me?” I speak as blankly as I possibly can. Masamune drops my chin, and I turn my face away before opening my eyes.

“Do you know how to cook? How to start a fire?”

I get up. I can almost feel his gaze drilling into my back as he watches me walk away. I hear his steps to my left, slightly behind me. He is ready to intercept my escape route, but I do not have any intention to run.

“There is only one way to find out, is there not?”

Masamune nods. Somehow, I don’t want him to watch, although I do suppose it is inevitable for as long as fire is involved.

***

I have not been ready for what followed. Out of all the things we had done, rousing the flames was the only one that came to me with relative ease… As for the rest, I can imagine having them return to me at night in form of nightmares. To put it simply, the answers to his questions are: both yes and no; yes. Yes, I can cook something edible, but also no, because our definitions of the word vary… tremendously. (Although I am also of the opinion that he shouldn’t have set his expectations high to begin with. The fact that, apparently, I can crack an egg with one hand speaks everything to my dexterity, and precisely nothing to my overall ability to cook).

My wrist still hurts from whipping egg whites into a foam; I am nearly certain chopsticks were not destined to perform this task. Masamune has given up on me what feels like several hours ago, and has resigned to have me fulfil his orders rather than do anything on my own. Gladly, lord Chef. I swear I won’t ever feel hunger again. Kitchen, kitchen is a war zone, even as he takes over and pours the batter into an appropriately sized tin.

The sun has already set, although I fear that may be an understatement to an extent. The room is kept from darkness by a single lantern, and I can barely believe Masamune has considered it reasonable to have us go on for this long. What is worse, he still seems to have enough energy to look over pans and pots, while I nearly topple to the floor, my feet aching – at this point, the ground feels bed-like soft. The… treat, castella… it’d better be worth it… It’d better be… My eyes feel dry, so I suppose I ought to let them rest. Soft like bed, indeed, yes…

I am startled awake, for the second time this day… Unless it is already tomorrow, in which case, I have woken up absurdly early for a change of pace.

“Wake up, lass. It’s ready.” Masamune shakes my arm. Heavens, why… Nevertheless, I prop myself on my elbow, stiff from the cold of the floor. What little light has remained alive softens his smile, then content and bright. For somebody so displeased with my tastes, Masamune appears fairly proud now, his eye crinkling as he plops down beside me. I accept the plate he pushes into my hands, although it takes me a moment to realise what it is that sits over it.

“Dig in,” Masamune urges. He doesn’t wait for me, so I hurry to blink my disorientation away.

It is a cake, similar to a sponge, but with a slightly crunchy layer on the bottom. It almost feels familiar, but something about it is different to what I must have known during the life I had before I forgot… Both its sweetness and texture fill my chest with warmth. I take another small bite, relishing it for as long as I can.

“Now, this is how you should eat.”

I snap my head to the side, startled by his voice. It has slipped my mind that I am not alone. As he is now, Masamune seems rather boy-ish, not much different from a smugly satisfied cat. His elbow resting over his knee, he props his chin in his hand – and have mercy on me, it dawns on me how ridiculous we are. I stifle a laugh, half-convinced I would wake up the dead if I allowed it to come out unrestrained.

“What’s so funny?” Masamune frowns.

“You’re the lord of that,” I pause and gesture vaguely. I actually do not know what exactly he is the lord of, but I assume the title is not granted to just about anybody, “and I’m your prisoner. And we’re sitting on the kitchen floor, in the middle of the night, eating cake. Better tell me, what isn’t funny about this?”

His shoulders shake as he snickers, “You’re making it sound as if there was something wrong about me using the kitchen in my own manor.”

“I wouldn’t dare imply that, my lord,” my words melt into a satisfied hum. I cannot stop the corners of my lips from curling upwards, each bite bringing forth the feeling of a secure embrace. If my body remembers… Then I’m glad it remembered the sensation well. I close my eyes to savour it further.

“You’re having a good expression now.”

My head turns towards Masamune again. I look at him, confusion replacing whatever it was that he has seen.

“It’s better when you smile than when you cry,” he explains, as if that was the most obvious fact of the world. I shake my head and smile once more. Lord Eyepatch, don’t tell you were worried there? First the tiger, then the sword, and now the cake, it’s too much for a single day without any proper rest. I refuse to see the nap on the floor here as anything but a mistake.

“Thank you, lord Masamune.” I sit up properly and set my now empty plate down. “For the food. And the cake.”

He raises his arm by a bit, the hem of his sleeve sliding down before getting caught on the bandage.

“Favour for a favour,” he simply states. Masamune rolls his shoulder before getting up to his feet. He extends his hands towards me. I hesitate – I can hardly see his face… But then I do, I do accept it.

Masamune puts out the lantern.

“Besides,” he adds. He seems completely motionless, not a rustle of fabric or creak of the floor making it to my ears. “I don’t want to see hunger under my roof.”

My throat has suddenly dried, synchronously with the return of the sound. Masamune slides the door open, but somehow, my body tells me not to follow him, not even by a step.

“Come on. It’s dark. Or do you know the way?”

It is, and that is what has me concerned. But you do have a point, lord Chef, I do not know which direction to take from here… So even though I should know better than to let you lead, I do what my body warns me against.

There is this voice, the one that woke up when I first ate. It tells me now that I shouldn’t have even looked at you, that I’ll regret it in time… But then again, it was hardly my mistake. No?

Series tag list: @cheese-ception @nuttytani

#masamune date #ikesen masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series

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earlgreymon · 2 years

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@digiweek 2022 day 3: recess (humor) tell us anything funny about digimon (funny scenes, funny moments, funny memories).

as told in this gif post, one of the funniest memories of mine pertaining to digimon was when i tried to recreate taichi's omurice from episode 21.

bear in mind that i was somewhere in grade school and not really that interested in cooking, but damn the omelette rice that taichi made looked so scrumptious that i just had to. also, in my house, we always made that thin, crepe-like omelette that has brown bits and crispy edges as we always cooked them well-done. that's why taichi's soft and fluffy-looking omelette looked very beautiful.

i replayed this particular episode on my vcd player and paused right at the moment when taichi cracked some eggs. i counted each yolk on the bowl and there were 8 of them. eight. my brain stopped working properly all of a sudden somehow and concluded that to make 1 portion of such a fluffy omelette, i needed 8 eggs.

yep, i forgot taichi was cooking for 3 portions (himself, koromon, and hikari).

my household did not have a non-sticky pan back then. the smallest utensil that we had was an ugly wok with heavy chars on its bottom due to the frequent use, inherited from my late grandmother. so i used it.

and as i had 0 knowledge of cooking, in addition that i could not flip my eggs mid-air like taichi did, the result was... another crepe-like omelette with such a big diameter because of the fact that it contained 8 frickin' eggs. i remembered transferring them to my usual plate and it was too small for the omelette!

when my mother came home from work, she got very angry after finding the egg tray was almost empty. we had this unspoken rule of only using 1 egg per person per day because we were required to be thrifty, so... yeah, i ended up getting scolded lol.

now that i like to spend my spare time cooking in the kitchen, omurice becomes one of the dishes i love to make for my brother and myself. i often experiment with different types of fried rice and sauce to accompany the omelette, and of course i did try various techniques to cook the omelette! but nope, i cannot do that kichi-kichi style omelette—it's too hard for me. maybe someday.

considering that the prompt for day 3 is also recess, i figured other than sharing a humorous story of mine, i can also share the recipe for this dish, which i called the magnificent onemurice as a play on taichi name meaning. if you need a visual step-by-step, this video is a great one and very easy to follow for beginners. and yes, i remembered taichi also served potesara (potato salad) along with the omurice, so i also drop the recipe. it's a nice, simple side-dish.

who knows, maybe you can cook this omurice for your recess time tomorrow? :)

#digimon #digiweek2022 #by me #graphic #koromon #taichi yagami #yes that picture on the first image is mine #not really similar looking to taichi's but i tried lol #tw: food #cw: food

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lover-of-villains · 3 days

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Breath of Life * Garrett/OC (part 2)

Summary: Emily Swan only came back to Forks to help her sister. She didn't want to get caught up in any drama, and she certainly didn't want to encounter one Edward Cullen during her stay. When Bella decides to go to Italy to save him, though, Emily can hardly let her go alone. And that one decision will only serve to lead her to the moment that will change her life forever.

Warnings: first person narrator, original character, angst, vampire/human relationship, some language

Part One

"How's she holding up?"

"About like you would expect," I sigh, slumping down in the empty seat across from my father at the kitchen table, the now-empty bowl of puppy chow for the moment resting forgotten beside the sink. Despite my best efforts, Bella hadn't been up for much of an actual conversation about what happened with the Cullens, and so we had settled for more superficial topics, instead. School. Our shared memories with Mom. Maybe even a few from summers spent in Forks when we were younger.

It hadn't taken long before I became the person carrying the conversation almost in its entirety, and not long after, Bella made her excuses about needing to get a head-start on some homework. And that left me with no other choice but to return downstairs to find our father, while worry threatens to gnaw a hole inside of my chest.

"She didn't want to talk about it. About him. It's like—it's almost like she can't."

"She can't," My father repeats, his tone carrying a certain skepticism that he cannot entirely keep hidden, "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It's too painful. Whatever he—whatever Edward did, it's like she can't talk about it at all without—"

"Without getting herself into a world of pain."

"That's the general idea, yeah."

"She tell you anything about the nightmares?"

"Nightmares?" I repeat, the shock that makes its way into my expression clearly indicating that, whatever my sister and I may have discussed, this particular topic did not factor into it at all, "What nightmares?"

The sigh my father gives in response to the question is hardly reassuring, but I do what I can to avoid allowing any of that to show in my own expression, my attention instead fixing on waiting for him to explain further. I can tell that he wants to, one hand running over his face, before he regards me for a moment in silence. It takes far more resolve than I feel I am truly ready for, but I allow that silence, waiting for my father to choose to elaborate on his own.

I know far more than most that if I push him before he is ready—before he has found the proper words—I will only end up with half of the information I truly need…

And that is a reality I simply cannot afford.

"She's been waking up, screaming every night. Won't tell me what she's dreaming about, but—"

"You think it's Edward?"

"What else would it be?" My father demands, frustration apparent in the way the words seem to shake, as though he is holding onto the very last vestiges of self control, "I never should've let him talk to her again after they broke up the first time."

"It's not your fault, Dad—"

"Yeah? Tell that to my conscience."

Frowning as soon as the guilt in my father's features becomes abundantly clear, I flounder for a moment, trying to think of something—anything, really—that I could say to take it all away. I know, from what little he'd already told me over the phone, that he'd never really gotten back to trusting Edward after the so-called baseball game, gone awry. That Bella nearly leaving him again had taken more from him than he would ever want to admit.

The idea that my father actually blames himself for what Bella is going through, now, as though she wouldn't have persisted in seeing Edward anyway, no matter what he had to say, is honestly ludicrous, but then, so is the idea that I could actually talk him out of his guilt after the fact. And that leaves me with nothing to do but reach across the table between us for his hand to deliver what I hope will be a reassuring squeeze.

"We're gonna get her through this."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, Ems."

"Well you could try to sound a bit more convincing, then. For my sake?" I tease, forcing a smile, or at least what I hope will seem like one onto my face as best I can, and finding that the gesture becomes just a smidge easier when he favors me with a faint grin of his own.

"I'll try my best, kiddo."

I am more relieved than I probably should be upon hearing the words, given that I cannot entirely shake the idea that I should be doing more, somehow, to help him through this. To help my sister through this. I cannot help but wish I could've come home sooner, but there is clearly very little I can do to change that particular reality, now.

All I can do is the best I can while being here, now. And that is what prompts me to opt for a slight shift in conversational topic, my gaze drifting back to the abandoned bowl for the puppy chow for a moment before I break the silence between my father and I once more.

"Want anything particular for dinner?"

"Your sister usually takes care of the cooking."

"I think I can give her a break for one night," I insist, pushing myself up from my seat at the kitchen table, and heading over to the refrigerator, my hand on the door before I turn back to look my father in the eye, "So. Choices?"

"I think there might be some chicken left over in the freezer."

"Perfect. I'll pair them with the potatoes I saw in the pantry."

It is a relief to throw myself, head-first, into the process of preparing dinner. Far more of a relief than I am truly prepared to admit, because the idea of having something constructive to do is something I honestly cannot resist. If I can't help my father, or Bella in any sort of tangible, emotional way, then the very least I can do is see to it that they have something suitable to eat.

Anything else will simply have to be taken care of after the fact.

…

After dinner is finished, and the dishes are all safely stowed away, Bella retreats back to her bedroom for more homework, and our father, somehow, finds himself called into the precinct, leaving me effectively on my own for the evening as a whole. Hardly a desirable outcome, all things considered, since the few meager belongings I brought along with me to Forks are hardly worth the time it takes to arrange them in my old room. In fact, I finish with the task in just over an hour, the music I'd selected for use on what is honestly one of my favorite possessions—an old fashioned record player—hardly doing a thing to dull the tumultuous nature of my thoughts.

I can't seem to stop circling back to Bella. To how distant she is, where before, it had been near to impossible to get her to stop talking whenever I was around. For all of her talk about preferring to be reserved, staying silent and observing when around those she does not know, our own relationship has always been much different.

And saying anything other than that this recent change to our dynamic disturbs me would be a lie.

Of course, I can understand the reasons why she is so reticent, given my own experience with breakups, and relationships gone south. More often than not, it seems to be easier to avoid talking about such things at all. But Bella and I always had a deal, of sorts, between us. If one of us asked questions, the other would, in fact, provide answers, no matter how reluctantly. There were no secrets between us, as a rule.

Now, however, I can tell quite clearly that there is something holding Bella back. Something she is keeping from me, though for what reason I honestly do not know. Given her intentions surrounding secrecy, I can already say that I dread exactly what it may be that truly went down between her, and Edward Cullen.

Whatever it is, though, I am already beginning to suspect it is more than a simple decision to go their own separate ways…

In fact, I am already starting to believe that the true reasons behind their separation can hardly be anything good.

Exhaling in exasperation at the prospect, I slump down to perch on the edge of my bed, my fingers automatically straying to fiddle with a loose thread in the faded quilt I've kept with me ever since my mother gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday. It's a nervous sort of habit of mine, even in spite of her best efforts to keep me from doing so, particularly since she is always the one prevailed upon to fix it when the squares inevitably begin to come apart.

For a moment, I catch myself getting lost in the melancholy of the similarity this one faded blanket possesses when compared to my life, at least insofar as it pertains to my ability to be of any use to Bella at all. But just as quickly as the thought comes to mind, I am doing what I can to push it aside.

I refuse to allow myself to think like that. I can't think like that.

I will be absolutely no use to my sister at all if I allow myself to become lost in self-doubt and obsessions over the prospect of even the hint of failure. So really, the fact of the matter is that I have no choice but to continue forging ahead. To continue trying anything and everything I can to help.

Even if I am attempting to do so with only half of the information I need.

Trying to cling to that fact, if nothing else, is far more difficult than I might have initially thought, but the sound of the house phone ringing downstairs in the kitchen effectively pulls me back to the present in next to no time at all. And, half in an effort to keep moving forward, I hurry to head back down the stairs to grab it, knowing that Bella will not be very likely to budge from her room at all.

"Swan residence—"

"Emmy?"

"—Cass?"

"Oh my God, it is you!" The caller exclaims, the volume of the words prompting me to pull the phone back from my ear just a bit, while a startled smile pulls at both corners of my mouth, "Mom and Dad said you were back, but I didn't believe it!"

"And I'm guessing my dad told them?"

"That's small town gossip for ya, baby."

"Baby?" I repeat, unable to fully resist the laugh that bubbles up in response to the term of endearment coming from who is probably one of my oldest friends. I honestly should have known she would find out I was back in Forks sooner, rather than later, given her mother's almost supernatural ability to know the ins and outs of every single one of the lives of our small city's inhabitants. But regardless of whether I missed the obvious or not, I would be a fool to pretend hearing Cassandra Newton's voice on the other end of the line is not a far greater relief than I probably deserve.

"Would you prefer another nickname, instead?"

"I think that would depend on the nickname—"

"Sexy Mama? Hot Stuff?"

"Okay, that's enough of that."

"Speak for yourself," Cass laughs, the sound a welcome one even in spite of the roll of the eyes I give as a direct result of her antics, "I'm just getting started."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Maybe because you just know me too well."

"That's definitely it," I agree, turning to lean against the nearby door frame, and twirling a part of the phone cord around my finger not long after, "I'm glad we finally came to a conclusion we can both get behind."

"Oh shut up."

"You love me and you know it."

"Do I, though?"

"You damn well should!" Cass enthuses, the words a little muffled, given the sudden influx of thuds and a muted oath as well, "Ow, damn—"

"What exactly are you doing right now, Cass?" I inquire, some small part of me hoping to use the distraction presented by the thuds on the other end of the line as a means of avoiding the eventual questions my friend may have as to the reason for my return home, "Because it kinda sounds like you're bringing your apartment down around your ears right now."

"I may or may not be attempting to reorganize the kitchen cupboards."

"Sounds like it's going well."

"It would be going a lot better if I had my best friend over here to help me."

"Is that a hint?"

"What do you think?"

The predictable nature of the response has me grinning again, even if I know that I have absolutely zero intention of leaving home—of leaving my sister on her own, right now, regardless of how Cassie may beg for me to come join her. And even if I do realize declining the implied offer of an invitation to her place will only provoke her concern, I still force myself to opt for an at least partially honest reply.

"I think we need to set up something, soon."

"Not today?"

"You can't have possibly missed me that much—"

"What's really going on over there, Ems?" Cassie presses, all traces of humor and teasing now absent from her tone as she allows concern to take over, instead, "Listen, I was talking to Mike, and he said that Bella—"

"Bella's fine," I cut in, hoping that the assertion is at least somewhat convincing, even with the small flare of distaste that bubbles up at the thought of my sister's supposed friend clearly having no qualms about discussing her status at will, "Listen, Cass, I'll call you with a date to hang soon, but I've gotta go."

"As long as you really do call. I'm not above staking out your house, and pouncing the minute you step out of the front door."

"I'll call."

Cass seems to take my words at face value, and the line disconnects not long after, the reprieve that I am still not honestly certain I want allowing me to exhale in a rush as I replace the phone in its cradle, and allow my head to drop back to rest against the wall behind me. I would be lying if I were to pretend that a part of me did not wish I could be more open with Cass. That her own interactions with Bella over the years, and countless summers spent roaming the city, or lazing on the beach could be pooled together with my own to help her.

Knowing my sister as I do, though, I am well-aware of how reluctant she is to share her innermost thoughts and feelings with just anyone. I know she will not want her sorrow over Edward Cullen broadcast for the whole world.

Whether I want to be or not, I am well and truly alone in this, at least for the time-being…

A reality that has me praying fervently that my own attempts at pulling Bella out of her funk will be enough.

…

#twilight #twilight fanfiction #original character #original female character #original character fanfiction #oc fanfiction #oc story #garrett twilight x oc #garrett twilight #garrett x oc #garrett x original character

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mothgodofchaos · 1 year

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Goblet

Cup god real? Cup god real. Except it’s sweeter, and less fuckery. Maybe. I don’t know. Apologies for the break, I do not control the rate in which my body heals.

God of Night x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 833

It was a simple life that you were living. Easy nine-to-five, hardly any traffic, incredibly easy going. Unfortunately, this made life incredibly boring as well. You were standing in your kitchen, late at night, simply making yourself a sandwich. You packed yourself lunches because the ones available in the building’s cafeteria frankly reminded you of lunch trays from elementary school. Less than ideal, and certainly not containing all the nutrition that a fully grown adult needed. There are only so many servings of Shannon’s crunchy mac and cheese that you can stand.

As you finish up making your food, you go to grab a glass of water. You search your cupboard, a bit frustrated when you find that it’s empty. You check the dishwasher, all of them inside, and get more agitated. Sure, you could hand wash a dish, but that would take extra effort. You go around the house, looking for a cup. You’re about tired enough just to go back and either drink out of the faucet directly or out of a bowl.

You walk about your apartment, finding a weird goblet thing. You can hear the voices of many people, yelling at you from beyond the imaginary screen like you’re the white girl protagonist in a b-grade horror movie. You have a cup, you’re thirsty, it is nearly the witching hours of the morning, you could not give less of a shit if you tried.

The goblet is filled up with water from the tap, and you could’ve sworn that the moon motifs on the side started glowing. But it’s late! Surely not! You finish your beverage, refilling it to get another drink. How dehydrated are you? Really, you should be drinking more water.

You down another three goblets worth of water, panting as your witching hour water is slowly hydrating you. You flip around to be face to face with a surprised man, a red spiral swirling around his right eye. He’s above average height, dressed in a dark blue suit covered in stars, a halo crown decorated with stars and a moon on his head.

You jump back with a scream, which startles him as well. He tries to calm you, but not in the way that you’d think would be the go-to way.

“I’m so sorry! Do you know what you just did?”

“No?? I drank water???”

“You just drank water from a ritual goblet, in which the drinker’s soul is tied to a god, namely me. Hello, I’m the God of Night, your patron.”

You simply stand there stunned, looking at the goblet in your hand, and then the clock. The motifs on the sides now glow the same red as his spiral, the clock still showing the early hours of the morning.

“I’m just as confused as you are, but unfortunately, there’s not much I can do about it. No one has drank from that goblet in centuries. You’re the only one in my entire created universe who even remotely is tied to me, or worships me.”

“So, you can’t just, undo it?”

“No, no I cannot. I’m sorry, starlight.”

The pet name catches you off guard, but you feel a sense of warmth and safety in your chest as he says it. His hand graces your shoulder, a soothing rub that brings out the tiredness that you had been fighting.

“Starlight, have you not been sleeping?”

“No, been trying to sleep, but insomnia has been kicking my ass…”

“My star, would you allow me to help? I haven’t had a devotee in centuries, so I may be a bit rusty, but, I wish to help you.”

You consider his offer as you rest your head on his chest, his arm around your back helping keep you up so you don’t fall asleep standing up. Honestly, you don’t really have a good reason to not believe he’s a god, considering his presence isn’t exactly normal.

“Sure, what could go wrong? I’m devoted to a god now who’s standing in my kitchen. Worse things could’ve happened.”

He chuckles a bit, scooping you up into his arms, moving the two of you into your living room, onto the couch. He sits down, you slowly falling asleep in his arms as he readjusts you onto the couch, setting blankets and pillows around you. Then he takes a deep breath, humming lowly as his hands and spiral glow blue, waving them slowly over your body. Sleep slowly draws you in, one you cannot fight, even if you wished to.

Once he gets you asleep, he looks at you adoringly, deciding in that moment that he’d do anything to protect you, his only devotee. He’ll clarify that the goblet belongs to the holy consort at a different time, until then, he had to learn to love again. Learn to be worshipped again. It’s a process that he has all of eternity to learn.

He will wait for his little star, he’ll certainly wish on you that you’ll love him back.

#god of night #night #kollok night #kollok council #god of night kollok #night markiplier #markiplier egos #gn!reader #glowstick god #chaoswrites

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thepeacefulgarden · 9 months

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pompompurin1028 · 2 years

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A Sip of Tea

Summary: Enjoying a Chinese tea ceremony with Dazai

Request: Prompt E - Sharing a Drink with Dazai by Anon

Pairing: Dazai x reader

Warnings: None

Genre: Comfort, Drabble

A/N: This is a much different type of comfort fic than I normally would write, but I'm excited for it. The events in this fic are rather mundane, but I hope that I'm able to capture the beauty and serenity of it. Incorporating some of my own culture to this, and no this is not for a marriage ceremony (searching up Chinese tea ceremony just gives those as top results... I mean yeah, it is a tradition but not the one we're talking about for this fic >:(), and of course, dear anon thank you for the request, I'm sorry I took this in a more personal direction

My Masterlist

The bubbling sounds of boiling water permeate the apartment, drifting in the air like a soft, steady murmur enveloping the silence between the two of you. Its whispers lull in the background, dousing the atmosphere with a rare sense of calm that even Dazai could not deny.

For a few seconds, listening to the sounds with closed eyes as he leaned against the backrest of the dining chair, it was almost as if Dazai could trick himself into thinking that the bubbling noise was but the sound of rain pattering against the windows, which provided him with some distraction from his usual thoughts. But hearing the soft clinking of cups against one another that disrupted the noise, and the sound of footsteps drawing close, Dazai knew it was you approaching, and so, he drew his attention to you instead.

Opening his eyes, his gaze met yours as you passed by him. A gentle smile met his lips at the sight of you, carrying with you a traditional ceramic tea set atop a serving tray. Two delicate cups sat on the tray in your hold, along with an empty pot[1], and a bowl-shaped cup that rested on a saucer with a lid[2]. Watching you with curious eyes, as you set them down against the table, a soft ringing sound filled the room at your movements, though Dazai was filled with a few questions of his own, with his knowledge, though limited, on the etiquette of Japanese tea ceremonies, he decided to stay silent instead.

The light of the setting sun filtered through the window, shining on your face as you worked. As only gentle sounds surrounded the two of you. The scraping of the tea leaves into the bowl-shaped cup, the rush of pouring water that followed, the clinking of the lid against the cup as you will the tea leaves to seep into the warm water, the sound of water pouring into the cups.

Perhaps it was the fact that his heart had been captured by yours, or maybe it was the sunlight against your hair and skin that made this scene before him feel almost ethereal, or maybe it was the seemingly effortless way in which you prepared the tea for him felt like a dance between your fingertips and the tea set. There was a certain enchantment pervading this very scene, which Dazai cannot take his eyes off. And yet, Dazai couldn’t explain why…

The sound of the clock ticking from the background broke the silence and his thoughts.

A few minutes have already passed. Dazai noted.

And yet, for a few moments, sadness did not fill his heart, a sensation that Dazai typically only found among the distraction of a good case or the occasional thrills he sought, there was only a strange sense of serenity.

Placing a cup of tea in front of him, leaving one for yourself, you two smiled before placing it to your lips.

Bitter, the tea is slightly bitter. A wry smile appeared on his face.

Though it is not a word Dazai would usually use, but perhaps, he thought, that is part of its beauty.

[1] this is to drain the tea, tea leaves have to be washed once first before they can be drunk, some tea trays can be used to drain tea as well, but some are single layered

[2] this is called a 蓋碗, but for the sake of the fic I won’t use the Chinese terminology, it is used to seep the tea and pouring it into the tea cups or the fairness pitcher before going into the teacups, a fairness pitcher makes sure that all the tea are of the same strongness, I guess it also makes it easier to not get tea leaves in your tea

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#I wish Dazai could reach this sense of serenity is it too much to ask? perhaps :')#dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd #bsd fanfic #bsd fanfiction #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs fanfic #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x y/n #bungou stray dogs x you #kat writes📝#✒️ . he that reigns and lives within my thoughts

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aservantofgod · 1 year

Text

Walk-in-Sunshine, please forgive me for the delayed one shot!! This is my thanks to u for the wonderful drawing u did of Martin and Matthias. I hope u enjoy the read!!

Summer Evening

The soft trills of songbirds in the trees above made a beautiful chorus to Martin’s ears as he wended his way down the woodland path. The late summer evening’s warm breeze sent his tunic fluttering behind him as he walked, and he lifted his face, enjoying the air rush against it.

Just yesterday, Chibb had flown into his little gatehouse cottage window, to inform him that Columbine had invited him to dinner for the following night and that any excuses he might offer would not be accepted. Apparently she had been planning a special meal for some time and was insistent that he share it with them.

Not wanting to come empty pawed, he had loaded up a bag with maple almond scones, spread with crystalized honey and grabbed a jug of fresh strawberry fizz, knowing little Gonflet loved the stuff.

Saint Ninian’s came into view and he caught the smell of something savory cooking, sending a sharp pang through his stomach.

He knocked softly on the old church’s door and waited. From inside came quick pawsteps and then the door opened, and Columbine’s harried face peeked out. “Oh, good evening Martin. Come in please, I’m glad you were able to come.”

“Good evening Columbine” the warrior mouse took her paw and kissed it. “Thanks for the invitation. I brought along some scones, and a jug of fresh strawberry fizz for Gonflet.”

“Hmph! Not that he deserves it, the little rogue!”

Martin felt a grin creeping around his whiskers, “Oh dearie me, don’t tell me he is up to his mischief again!”

“Leave it to his father! The both of them are going to make me grey before my time! I baked a blueberry pie for after supper, and hid it in the one place I did not think they would find it, in the woodpile! I turn my back for one second and its gone! Just wait until I get my paws on those two! My surprise, ruined!”

Martin tweaked her whiskers fondly, “Well I might be able to fix that. Here” he handed her the bag of scones. “Its maple almond, with crystalized honey. I thought we might like that with our after supper tea, but it seems it has a more important role to serve.”

“Oh Martin, you are so sweet. Thank you” Columbine took the bag and tucked it into her cloak, hanging on the wall. “There wouldn’t have been enough time for me to make another. There, that should do. Not likely they will find it in there.”

Martin looked around and smiled, “I guess I ought to just make myself right at home then, seeing as how my matey will be delayed. It’s a pity though. I had a real fine prank planned for him.”

Columbine laughed and turned back to her oven. A moment later she straightened suddenly and said, “Oh Martin, I wish you would go out and try to find Gonflet. He’s not supposed to be outside the house, and I cannot be entirely sure his father is with him. I would go but I have to watch our supper.”

“Certainly” the warrior mouse set his jug on the table. “I’ll fetch him back to you in a tic.”

“If he’s covered in blueberry stains, make him wash up. There’s a wash bowl just outside the door.”

Martin chuckled and began scanning the countryside, hoping for a glimpse of the little mouse, but there was nothing but trees and shrubs. With a sigh, the warriormouse started down the path, scanning the woods on all sides, looking for fresh pawprints. He was just about to turn back when he saw lying near a bush, a piece of pie crust.

Moving on silent footpaws, he crept through the trees until his ears caught the sound of some creature grunting and smacking loudly. Stifling a chuckle he peeked around a large oak and saw Gonflet sitting underneath it, stuffing blueberry pie into his mouth. He stood watching him for a bit and then spoke, “Well now, what have I caught myself here? A tiny pie scoffer?”

Gonflet turned to him, his face, whiskers and clothes completely stained blue, and Martin had to stifle another laugh. He leaned against the tree, a mock stern expression on his face, “Y’know you're not supposed to be out here by yourself Gonflet. What is yore mum going to say when she sees those clothes?”

Gonflet waved his paws expressively, “Ho, she won’t know, Uncle Martin. I gonna stay out ‘ere ‘an play!”

“Oh, you are, are you? Well yore mum sent me to find you, so I think it’s a nice hot bath waitin’ for you, young’un.”

Gonflet stood up, dropping the remains of his pie on the ground. He grinned cheekily at the warrior, “Well, Gonflet say he’s going to play in the woods. Can’t catch me hehehehe” the youngster took off giggling.

Martin went after him, not wanting to let the little mouse out of his sight, calling in a playfully authoritative voice “Now you just stop right where you are, Gonflet, and everything will be fine. If you don’t, you may find yourself wishing you had, little one.”

“Hehehe, can’t catch Gonflet, dozy paws! I run faster then you, wiggle whiskers!”

Two big paws looped themselves around the little mouse’s middle and picked him off his footpaws.

“Wiggle whiskers! Dozy paws is it? I warned you to stop didn’t I? I think I’d better teach you some respect for your elders!”

Martin sat down on the ground and pulled the young mouse tightly against him, “This is what cheeky little pie thieves get!” He began tickling the young mouse under his arms.

Gonflet shrieked loud enough to almost deafen the warrior’s ear and tried to wiggle free, to no avail. He tried to turn the attack back on his captor, causing Martin to chuckle, “Oho, so that’s how you want to play, is it?”

Gonflet found himself tipped halfway off the warrior’s lap, and his small footpaws seized in one of the warrior’s paws, which were now completely holding Martin’s undivided attention.

“Hehehehehaahahaha, daddee, save me!! Uncle Marhahaaaha…”

Martin stopped briefly, before the little mouse’s sides could start aching and picked him up, turning him on his back so that Gonflet was looking him full in the face. The warrior’s grey eyes were twinkling, “Now, what was that you called me back there?”

“Hehe…uh…did-didn’t call you anythin.”

Martin raised his eyebrows, “Oh, you didn’t?”

“Hahahahahaha, noooo! I soreeeeehahaha!!”

“That’s better” Martin said chuckling, and picked the young mouse up. He gently patted the small heaving back. “No wonder yore poor mum is run ragged, having to deal with a little snip like you.”

“I not a snip! I’m a thief!”

“Yes, and a tiny terror also. Now, lets head back.”

“Want more tickles Uncle Martin!”

Martin laughed, “Really? I thought I had given you enough already, with all the protesting you did!”

“Please?”

Martin stopped walking and looked at the small mouse. The youngster’s face was still flushed from laughing, but he was watching Martin with an undisguised hopeful look. Martin shook his head incredulously and chuckled, tweaking Gonflet’s nose fondly, “Alright, after supper little one, if you really want me to.”

“Yay!” The little mouse clapped his paws in delight and the sight of the blueberry stains all over him reminded Martin of Columbine’s request. Outside Saint Ninian’s door he set the little mouse on an upturned barrel and wet his kerchief in the wash bowl. Gonflet saw what was coming and tried to make a quick escape but Martin caught ahold of him and began to wash his face, ignoring the dibbun’s squirming protest.

“Urg…noooffff!! Uncle Mar…let me go…no wash…”

Martin held the young mouse firmly, rinsing and wiping gently but thoroughly, until most of the blueberry stain was gone. Gonflet sulked through the bathing, kicking his footpaws back and forth against the barrel.

Martin helped him out of his stained tunic and wrapped him cozily in his own cloak, before carrying him inside.

A booming laugh reached the warrior's ears and he looked up to see Gonff standing by the fireplace, holding a cup of tea in paw. "Looks like ye found the little rogue!! Martin o'l mate, welcome to me darlin' wife's feast!! Hope ye brought a splendid appetite with ye, cause the spread will be magnificent!"

Martin chuckled, turning little Gonflet over to Columbine who immediately started scolding him, "Shame on you Gonflet!! How many times do I have to tell you not to steal! It's an early bedtime for you tonight, young'un!!"

"No no! I ne'er took the pie! Da gave it to me! He foun' it inna wood and said somebeast musta left it there, so I could eat it" Gonflet grabbed his ear, nose scrunched up, "That's da truth, mum!"

Columbine rounded on her mate, paws planted on hips, giving him a look that could scald a frog, "Gonff, you glutinous, dozy whiskered, cheeky faced, excuse for a father-"

"Now, now, my sweet sugar plum" Gonff held up his paws, "It's all a misundersta-"

"Don't you 'sugar plum' me! You-"

Gonflet ran over to Martin who was bent over holding his sides as he shook with laughter. The little mouse grinned cheekily and then thrust his little paws under Martin's arm, "Yah!! Thus is fer wot yer did to me!!"

Martin quickly straightened up, eyes twinkling and swiftly pinned the mouselet on his back, gently scribbling his little tummy, Gonflet's squeaking laughs warming his heart. He caught the little beasts paws in one of his own and swept Gonflet's arms above his head, chuckling softly, "You asked for it, little one" and proceeded to tickle under his arms.

Above the shrieking laughter, Gonff's voice was speaking placatingly, "Now, do listen to me my sweet apple cake, I didn't-aaaahhh!!"

Martin glanced up from his tickling to see Columbine chasing Gonff around the room, holding a wooden spoon in paw, the mousethief leaping and dodging as quickly as his tubby belly would let him, his wife hot on his footpaws.

The warriormouse shook with helpless laughter, turning his attention back to Gonflet who was begging for more tickles, and obligingly tickled his ribs, his own deep chuckles filling the cozy room as the chaos ensued. Keeping a firm grip he bent down and blew on the little tummy, running his whiskers up and down, cause Gonflet to squeal with laughter.

At last, sensing the young mouse was getting tired he stopped and scooped the dibbun up on his lap, gently rubbing his back to ease the fit of giggles.

The chase ended abruptly as Gonff barreled into Martin and Gonflet, all four creatures ending up in a tangled pile on the floor. Gonflet shrieked and broke out in a fresh bout of giggles as the other three thrashed about in an attempt to break loose.

Columbine was up first, throwing aside her spoon, and then dove right back down into the mess, shouting, "You deserve every bit of this" before attacking Gonff's belly with tickling paws, "Martin, help me!"

Martin rolled over, taking in the scene, before chuckling softly and joining her. Gonflet jumped on top of the pile and joined in by attacking his dad's ears, while Martin and Columbine teamed up on Gonff's belly and footpaws, the happy laughter of all four of them echoing resoundingly throughout Saint Ninians.

#redwall #martin the warrior #gonff

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angelofrainfrogs · 8 months

Text

Spend the Night: Ch. 25

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected.

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

Too late to hide away Too soon for one to repay Why don't you see what's comin’? I cannot stop what's comin’ There is no point in tryin’ Please read my mind, can't decide when I'm broken Every whisper is turning to voices That I only begin to discern in noises

Somebody save

Somebody save me

~Save Me by DHuesta, Chris Commisso~

While Michael and Charlie traveled down to Fazerblast, Gregory and Freddy were looking around the arcade in Bonnie Bowl. It was just a tiny room of random games, none of which seemed to be the one they were searching for.

“I am sorry, superstar—I do not see Princess Quest,” Freddy admitted, using his height advantage to scour the game titles in search of the aforementioned console.

Figures that they wouldn’t find it. With Freddy’s apologetic nature, Gregory couldn’t blame the bear even if he wanted to.

“We’ll find it eventually,” he replied, giving the entirety of the room another visual once-over before shrugging his shoulders. “We could bowl a little! You know, before Mr. Afton and Ms. Emily get back.”

Gregory’s tone was mocking, excited to pick on his siblings now that they weren’t here to defend themselves and retaliate. He glanced up to Freddy, eyes wide with hope that the bear would agree to hang out with him a little and do something normal. The two of them barely got to relax together since starting their quest, and if Freddy was indeed destined to be Gregory’s dad the kid wanted to spend some quality time with his ursine caretaker.

“That is a wonderful plan!” Freddy praised, grinning down at his son as he ruffled his hair. Michael and Charlie had told them to stay put unless they called after all, and Freddy saw no need to go against their suggestion.

Until now, respite was only found in Freddy’s room or the security offices that Gregory chose to nap inside of. If he could offer Gregory another place to associate with comfort, Freddy would jump at the chance.

The staff being in a tizzy over all the crazy stuff happening elsewhere in the Pizzaplex worked to their benefit, for there was no one wandering around the uninteresting bowling alley to bother them. It was completely empty save for the S.T.A.F.F. bots behind the food counter, ready to serve up some unhealthy concoction at Gregory's whim. Freddy was glad for the chance to spend time with his son without worrying about any watchful eyes, and this infectious happiness showed when he suddenly grasped Gregory under the shoulders and threw him into the air. He grinned at the boy's surprised shriek as he was subsequently caught in Freddy's safe, waiting arms.

“To the bowling lane we go!” the bear exclaimed, settling Gregory on his hip as they made their way towards the first available lane.

Gregory’s surprise toss in the air reminded him just how fast and strong his dad was. Thankfully he only had Gregory’s best interests at heart and wasn’t using that strength to try and rip his guts out. After the yelp, he devolved into a mess of giggles before holding onto his father for support that he seemingly didn’t even need.

“I’ve never bowled before! You just knock the pins down, right?” Gregory asked. The game sounded straightforward. Only two chances to knock every pin down, then it’s onto the next person.

Gregory already liked this attraction. The first plus was that it was quiet; the other being that there wasn’t anything lurking around trying to tear the boy apart. He was safe here during the day with his favorite animatronic at his side.

“Correct,” Freddy agreed, setting Gregory down when they reached the lane. “There are a few techniques to help knock down the ultimate number of pins, which I can show you. I will put our names into the scoreboard so it can keep track; how about you pick out a bowling ball?” He gestured to the rack of colorful balls nearby, all with different faces of various Pizzaplex animatronics printed on them along with numbers to indicate their weight. “Try to find one that is easy for you to pick up, but not too light.”

As Gregory did as instructed, Freddy situated himself in the bolted-down plastic chair in front of the lane computer. He plugged in his name first so he’d be able to show Gregory an example of how to bowl, and once the monitor hanging from the ceiling lit up ready for the game to start he met the boy at the rack.

“Any luck, superstar?” Freddy asked kindly, reaching over Gregory’s head to pick out a heavily-weighted ball. He casually tossed this in the air and caught it one-handed as if the thing weighed no more than a cotton swab.

Gregory had been feeling out the weight on many of the bowling balls while Freddy set up their game. But it was increasingly more and more obvious that the kid was… not very strong. The 10 pound, deep purple glitter ball wasn’t the heaviest, but it wasn’t the smallest weight they carried so Gregory saw that as a victory.

He flashed a smile to his dad, showing off the ball. When he caught Freddy oh-so gracefully tossing one up with such gentle cadence, Gregory looked impressed. He needed to get way stronger, or Freddy and the other bots were going to smoke him at bowling!

“Got one!” Gregory announced with a smile. It’d be fun to play with him, regardless.

“Excellent!” With a gentle touch to Gregory’s shoulder, Freddy urged him towards the lane itself. “Now, the basic things you should keep in mind are to line up your shot and try not to twist your wrist as you release the ball to ensure it travels in a straight line.”

Freddy demonstrated this, holding the sparkling red ball to his chest as he lined up the angle. He cocked his arm back, the ball hooked by the tips of his bright blue claws, then simultaneously took a step forward and released in one smooth motion. It sailed down the lane and smacked into the pins with a satisfying crack, knocking over all but a cluster of 3 standing on the leftmost side.

“You get two chances per turn to knock down all the pins, unless you hit them all in one go and cause a strike,” Freddy explained as he waited for his ball to shoot out of the return track.

Gregory was mimicking Freddy, all but letting go of the purple orb to watch Freddy expertly down seven of the pins. The screen over the alley showed exactly which ones remained as the track cleared the fallen pins away.

“Easy!” Gregory scoffed, figuring the game was fairly straightforward. It also seemed relaxed and casual, unlike the competitive streak he and Michael had earlier in the East Arcade.

Discretely, while Freddy was lining up his second shot Gregory reached into one of the roomier pockets. He’d rolled up the monster slice of pizza as to not stain his cargo pants with grease, and munched upon it as he watched the bear concentrate.

Another perfectly-angled throw, and the last three pins were down.

“Spare!” Freddy cheered, throwing his fists in the air as he watched the cheesy animation play out on the monitor above their heads. He turned to Gregory, his grin faltering into a mild look of confusion as he caught him chowing down on the pizza slice. It wasn’t a great leap in logic to figure out where it’d come from, and despite the questionable hygiene of eating pocket-pizza, Freddy opted to let it go this time. If anything about that hefty slice of topping-laden dough were to make Gregory sick, it wasn’t going to be the way it was transported…

“When you are ready, it is your turn,” Freddy said, stepping aside and gesturing for Gregory to take his place in front of the lane. Gregory was quick to abandon the pizza, sure it’d still be waiting for him on the tabletop when he got back.

“Okay... So, keep your wrist straight—” Gregory aimed down the alley and hurled the ball as hard as he could.

It sure did go!

…And it continued, veering left before finding itself loudly clanging into the gutter. Gregory's jaw hung open, blinking as the ball passed every single pin to go straight for the return. When Gregory turned to glance back at his father, he gave the robot a thumbs-up.

“Now I know what not to do,” he said, trying not to be a sore loser.

“It may take a little practice, but I am sure you will get your skills up in no time!” Freddy said reassuringly, giving the boy a smile. He didn't feel the need to point out that his AI was designed to excel at games like this, nor that he just so happened to be the second best animatronic at bowling, beaten only by the rabbit the attraction was themed after. Their friendly bowling rivalry had been a major aspect of their relationship, and despite how worked up the usually-composed bunny could get when he lost, Freddy always knew it was in good fun.

Sparing a glance towards the closed, star-studded curtain by the food counter, Freddy allowed a wistful smile to cross his face. What he wouldn't give to have those days back again, before Bonnie went “missing” and this horrible virus infested the very building they called home...

Freddy flicked his gaze back to Gregory, who was watching him closely. The bear let out a huffing laugh, stepping forward to ruffle his hair. He really was too observant for his own good sometimes—although in the current circumstances, it didn't hurt to be overly cautious. Before Gregory could ask what was wrong, Freddy let him know:

“I am alright, superstar—just reminiscing. You still have one more try before your turn ends!”

He was sad about Bonnie...

Gregory could tell in the forlorn glance Freddy sent to the stage. They were made to be best friends, and that friendship was taken away in the blink of an eye so that one man could have a disguise. If the Glamrock bear hadn’t been gifted such realistic emotion, the secondhand hurt might not’ve felt so bad.

Even so, Gregory knew when not to meddle, instead leaning into his father's wholesome head-pats to try cheering him up instead. “Okay, watch me, Dad! I'm gonna knock 'em aaaall down this time!”

Today was their fun day, after all! And despite the fact he couldn't stop his siblings from crying earlier, Gregory may be able to at least keep Freddy from feeling any worse. Besides, Gregory was confident in the future after all the reassurances Charlie had drilled into the group.

They were going to beat William. And when they did, Bonnie would be back! Back on his stage, back beside Freddy and the Glamrocks, together again.

Gregory… couldn't relate. The only good friends he had were all right here, under this roof.

He thought about how close they’d all gotten while chucking the ball down its lane. The orb once again veered left, managing to take out a pin in its spinning whirlwind of destruction. Gregory would still celebrate this with a fist pump. Even the small victory was still a win to him.

“Well done, Gregory!” Freddy exclaimed, giving the boy a high-five as he moved past to switch places. A bit of an exaggerated celebration for one pin, but Freddy couldn't help it—he was more so cheering for the fact that his son was genuinely having a good time. As Freddy got into position, he gave Gregory some additional instruction. “See those little triangular markers on the lane in front of where you stand? Try and line up your shot with those—carry your arm through as straight as you can, and the ball should go in the direction you intend.”

With another well-positioned throw, Freddy's ball rolled forward in a rush of red sparkle. This time, he hit the pins square in the center, knocking them all down at once. The monitor proclaimed he'd gotten a STRIKE! in overly-animated, exaggerated text.

Gregory was a little jealous, but mostly impressed. He stood with his arms crossed as he watched his dad's technique. He'd have to hurry it up; Freddy was too good and was going to wipe the floor with him and this whole game soon enough. When Freddy explained the meaning of the triangular markers, Gregory sounded out a long: “Ooooh. That makes sense,” as he catalogued the tip away.

When Gregory's ball came back he had patiently waited for Freddy's turn to be over before lining up his shot. Every bit of advice from Papa Bear helped—this time Gregory's shot had hit the pins dead on! Though his throw did need some work, as he’d only put enough force behind the throw to knock down five out of ten.

“See? You are getting better already!” Freddy hummed softly as the boy waited eagerly at the ball return. “I wonder if Michael and Charlie are any good at bowling...”

Surely the pair had spent their fair share of days in a bowling alley back in their youth, though that didn't mean much for their current states. Still, it put another grin on Freddy's face to think of them joining their brother for a game, staring a friendly competition between the group that he had a feeling Mike and Gregory would get way too into before the day was over.

Michael and Gregory were sure to butt heads during a little friendly competition. Then while they’d be distracted trying to one up the other in the scoreboards, Charlie or Freddy would gain a leg up over the both of them. It was bound to happen, and Gregory could see himself falling into that trap.

“Guess we'll have to see when they're done!” Gregory remarked, looking towards the entrance as his voice took on a jaded affect. “I hope they didn't get stuck at Fazerblast. That was a freaking nightmare.”

“I am sure they are just fine,” Freddy reassured, willing the statement to be true. He handed Gregory the glittering purple sphere once it rolled back to them. “Your turn again, superstar—good luck!”

***

At that moment, three things happened simultaneously: Gregory's bowling ball struck down the remaining five pins, earning him a spare and ardent praise from Freddy; Michael finally completed the last area in Princess Quest III, freeing the princess from the glitching, shrieking rabbits; and Vanessa jolted upright in bed with a gasp as if she'd been submerged underwater for a very long time.

The night guard had been trapped in a nightmare—a strange, 8-bit style world where she was a little princess made of yellow blocks having to fend off purple rabbits that snapped at her everywhere she went. She'd had these dreams before, though this was the first time she remembered them. Usually she'd just wake up screaming, sweat drenching her pajamas and sheets as her heart hammered against her ribcage. She never knew what scared her until this moment, and while most of the memories were still vague and floating just out of reach, she was sure of one thing: she'd done something bad.

“Oh fuck...,” she breathed, pressing a hand over her mouth as a few memories made it through in flashes: a strange rabbit standing in an old Pizzeria—

No, it was virtual. Not a real location—at least, not the one she’d seen.

Vanessa used to be a beta tester. She... something went wrong, and she... she got infected.

Since then, she'd never been herself—she saw things through a purple lens, all false happiness and the need to bring a certain “family” back together, though at the moment she couldn't recall any names. And to do that, she'd been commanded to capture children, and—

Vanessa bolted out of bed, rushing to bathroom and promptly throwing up the contents of her stomach into the toilet. Groaning from the physical and mental weight suddenly thrust upon her, she coughed out a faint cry.

“O-Oh god... what the fuck have I done...”

***

“I did it!” Michael exclaimed, the furrowed lines of concentration on his brow relaxing as the console played a victorious jingle. This was quickly covered by an inhuman screech of pure rage that made him and Charlie flinch back, before the screen flashed ERROR in bright red text three times before shutting off completely. Glancing at Charlie out of the corner of his eye, Mike gulped. “I... hope that was a good thing.”

Charlie approached the console with a hand outstretched. She jiggled the joystick, pressed the start button. Suddenly the air became thick with a tension she only felt when William was around—specifically when he was angry or upset.

And yet, they were completely and totally alone in the neon attraction.

“Uhhh...” Charlie blinked, her brows furrowed at the now powered-down arcade game. “I... I don't know if that did anything...”

That wasn't what she expected to happen. Then again, what should’ve happened? Some blinding flash of light, or a sudden message from Vanessa thanking them for helping her?

When it became just their reflections staring back against an infinitely black backdrop of the game screen, Charlie moved away. Shuffling about the messy office instead, Charlie looked at the various notes on Vanessa's desk before grasping a yellow post-it. This had a list of passwords on it, something they needed to gain control of Fazerblast with.

“We totally left Sophie down there way too long,” Charlie pointed out. She twitched her head towards the exit, silently suggesting they leave.

“Yeah… time to go,” Michael agreed, grabbing her arm as grounding reassurance to both of them as they exited the watchtower. From their vantage point, he scanned the arena for any sign of pissed-off purple rabbits, and upon finding nothing quickly ushered Charlie down and back to the room where Sophie awaited them.

“Sorry—that office was a mess,” Michael said as way of an excuse when they arrived at the guard’s side once again. “We found the password, though.”

Before entering the game's lobby Charlie made sure to let go of Mike, still trying keep up the professional illusion. However, she was sure to give her best friend a reaffirming pat between the shoulders before parting ways to walk alongside him. Sophie raised a bushy brow at the pair, accepting their excuse of having to navigate the messy room easily.

“That reminds me—I should email Ness and tell her to straighten out the offices tonight,” Sophie thought aloud, taking the password from Charlie's silent but helpful fingers. “It's the least she could do for leaving us with all this other junk to clean up.”

It was probably how she ended up getting hurt, tripping over the cans and piled trash inside her office space. Plus it was always so dark in the Fazerblast location Ness seemed to favor... What the night guard saw in that tiny space was anyone’s guess.

“Yes—good idea.” Charlie pretended to know exactly what email was in order to give Sophie a nod. “Unfortunately, Mr. Afton and I have to make a run back to Bonnie Bowl and pick up his little cousin. Thank you for your help today, Sophie.”

“Yep—” Sophie turned, her attention now focused on logging into the terminal. She could just email Vanessa from there. “—I'll catch you guys later!”

“We’ll check that elevator damage on the way out,” Michael added over his shoulder, not wanting Sophie to think he and Charlie forgot the reason they’d gone to Fazerblast in the first place. By the time the androids trekked to the elevator in question Sophie managed to log into the computer and disable the attraction, letting it run on backup lighting and eerie silence. As they approached, the doors slid open a bit jerkily.

“Oof… they definitely can’t buff that out,” Mike commented with a grimace, examining what he could see of the dents and scrapes left by his last frantic escape with Gregory. He didn’t realize he’d caused that much damage—they’d need to replace the entire doors at this point.

Oh well… just another thing for maintenance to add to their list.

“I hope the other two are having fun, at least,” he said, pressing the button to take them up to the lobby once they were inside the elevator. He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked at Charlie. “Do you think Freddy’s bowling fair and square, or do you think he’s letting Gregory win?”

Charlie had to take a moment to appreciate how Michael massacred the elevator doors. It would do well to remind Charlie that the same logic still applied from when he was a scrappy teen—never pick a fight with him. He was akin to a trapped animal in a battle, personified with his previous disguise as Foxy.

Charlie stepped into the lift after her friend and replied with a shrug. “Who’s to say he’s not beating Freddy? After all, he kicked your butt at Faz-Fighters.”

She may not ever feel inclined to enact physical violent on Michael (anymore), but sometimes it was too hard to resist poking fun at her best friend. Thinking on it, Charlie remembered Gregory saying that he desperately wanted to play at any of the attractions. The poor kid likely didn’t have much experience to against someone designed to be good at the themed games.

Charlie shook her head and replied seriously this time. “I’m sure Freddy’s going easy on him! Ooh—” Her eyes lit up with intrigue and a bright smile graced her features. “—I forgot Bonnie Bowl was where we got that pizza slushee! How do you feel about stealing another one with me?”

“Hell yes!” Michael readily agreed, eyes lighting up at the thought of yet another pizza-themed monstrosity. “Man, I’m so glad we can finally taste things again… I don’t know how I would’ve carried on knowing there was such a nasty drink just out of reach.”

Michael gave a dramatic sigh, doing his best to distract from the heavy air in the arena that faded with every foot the elevator climbed. They were soon deposited in the winner’s lobby, which hadn’t yet been replenished with a new Fazerblaster. It was unfortunate Mike hadn’t thought to snatch their old one from Foxy’s chest after he’d switched bodies… but then again, he’d have immediately shot at Ennard when they busted through that basement door, so it was probably for the best overall.

As much as Michael was loathe to admit, Ennard had been nothing but helpful this whole time. Creepy as hell… but helpful nonetheless.

A short walk and a few more elevator rides later, the sound of bowling ball impacting pins echoed through the air as Michael and Charlie slipped under the metal gate to Bonnie Bowl. Freddy and Gregory stood at the farthest lane, and Mike felt a smile tug at his lips at the sight of them. It was a weird sensation to see family that he actually loved after all his time of self-isolation—and he wasn’t ever going to give that up again.

“Hey, guys!” he greeted with a wave. “How’s the game going?”

Gregory was sitting on the bright plastic bench, turning around and gripping the backrest as he smiled to them.

“I suck at bowling!” he replied with a laugh. “It's been pretty fun though!”

“Glad you're having fun! I'm going to grab a drink, then I'll join!” Charlie said, ruffling his hair with a grin. Then she skipped over to the snack counter in search of the pizza slushee dispenser she found yesterday, ignoring the S.T.A.F.F. bot incessantly reminding her that customers weren’t allowed in the back.

“Bet—I got to find a bathroom,” Gregory announced, ready to wander off on his own for a moment. With things going so well, he’d gained a sense of ease that he knew would be sorely missing during night shift. Gregory was determined to take advantage of it, even for something as simple as a trip to the bathroom without worrying about being snatched by murder-rabbits. He opened his Fazwatch and glanced at the map, cross-checking the closest restroom on the bright interface as he began to walk.

“Gregory—” Freddy began, reaching a hand out towards him instinctively. He didn't like the thought of the boy wandering anywhere by himself, dayshift or not. Their overarching threat was far from gone, and it made Freddy uneasy to think of Gregory defenseless and alone without any of his family to help should something go wrong.

“I'll tail him,” Mike promised, immediately understanding the bear's distress. He echoed Freddy's unspoken sentiments to a tee, and though he figured Gregory might appreciate two seconds of peace without someone fretting over him, Michael wasn't quite ready to let him have that either. Still, he didn't have to stick close—just trail behind Gregory at a casual pace and keep watch.

“Let Charlie know we'll be right back, okay?” Michael told Freddy, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. He flashed the bear a grin and began lazily strolling after Gregory as the boy rounded a corner, for once feeling like he wasn't in rush to complete some potentially-traumatizing mission.

There was a customer's bathroom on the total opposite end from where they’d been bowling. It was closer to the counter, but Charlie had apparently decided to be nosy and snoop around the back out of sight. Shrugging to himself, Gregory pushed open the door with a Freddy silhouette and entered the boy’s room. He shot a cursory glance around, eying each stall as he passed—just in the spirit of being careful when Gregory perceived himself to be alone.

But then, he spotted it.

Sitting on the corner of the farthest sink, tucked against a long mirror was a plushie. Not just any plush random one that could be found in the Pizzaplex, either. No, this doll was clearly special.

The color scheme was different to any of the normal Glamrocks. This particular Freddy's satin was a pretty golden hue, accent stripes a vibrant purple instead of blue. Its shape differed as well, looking heavier with a sagging body like it was filled with more cumbersome stuffing. The sight of it had distracted Gregory from what he came in to do, all attention pulled to the toy.

It was odd—certainly out of place as well. When its eyes followed Gregory ever so slightly, he blinked and stopped in front of the sink.

No way is this an animatronic, Gregory thought. It was far too small. Though down the opposite trail of thinking, DJ Music Man shouldn't logically exist either.

“Uh… hello?” Gregory asked, hoping for the small robot to respond kindly if it even had a voice box.

***

Michael had parked himself just outside the restroom, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as many a parent did when waiting for their kid. He wasn't worried about following Gregory inside, as there was only door and he doubted there was anyone waiting in there that aimed to do his little brother harm.

And there he waited, completely unaware of Gregory's discovery and what was about to happen.

***

The little plushie was tracking Gregory's movements, having eagerly awaited his arrival. It wasn't quite an animatronic—at least, not one with full, working limbs. It had some moving parts, but those weren't supposed to be revealed yet; not until the time was just right. The best it could do for now was swivel its eyes back and forth, which was enough to get its target's attention. It couldn't even open its mouth to simulate talking, the plastered on smile remaining still as a voice responded:

“Hi!”

The voice was... strange. Like someone trying to intentionally pitch themselves higher, and also putting on a weird accent. Or maybe trying to hide their original one? Either way, it was enough to keep Gregory's attention, and as the boy's eyes widened the bear beckoned him closer.

“I'm Fredbear! Do you wanna be friends?”

Oh, Gregory thought, taking a step closer. Not an animatronic in the traditional Freddy's sense, meant to sing and dance upon a stage. It was consumer grade—so small and harmless that a child could pick one up and bring it home with them. Probably even operated on double-A batteries. It was cute.

This must be the prototype, Gregory thought as he cocked his head to the side while listening to it. Its voice box left much to be desired, and he couldn’t help but wonder with a pang of sadness why this little guy was left alone in a gross bathroom of all places.

“Heh. I don't know,” Gregory replied with a smirk. “I've already got one Freddy to deal with... But I don't have a Fredbear.”

Even if the moniker was simply a nickname for his favorite bear, they were surely different. Still, he hesitated in picking it up. What if he was stealing this from some poor kid who lost their toy in the bathroom?

…He probably shouldn't have left it in there to begin with, then, Gregory concluded in his mind. He snatched the toy, holding it out at arm’s length to inspect it.

“Sure! Let's be friends, Fredbear!”

And this was the trigger the little toy needed.

Gregory had been so distracted by its novelty, he hadn't noticed the seam running straight down the center of the bear's golden torso. The squeeze to the plushie's sides upon being picked up spurred the internal mechanisms to action, which first prompted two sharp pincers to grasp the inside fabric of the bear's tummy and rip it apart, popping the seam’s stitches in less than a second. Before Gregory had time to react, the main function of the plushie was revealed.

It wasn't a toy at all—merely a device to serve another of William's twisted goals, as evidenced by the hypodermic needle full of glowing purple that shot out of the bear's stomach cavity and straight towards Gregory. The syringe immediately went through the boy's shirt and implanted itself painfully in the center of his chest. Not giving him time to struggle free, one of the metal pincers whipped out of the bear's torso and depressed the plunger, sending the Remnant directly into Gregory's body.

The long, medically sharpened tool had pierced through Gregory's sternum, beveled hole stabbing straight through towards his heart like a shot of adrenaline.

Gregory was forced back as the air involuntarily left his lungs. There wasn't even time to scream as the fluid from the hollow sharp emptied its contents inside his torso. It didn't take long for a reaction to happen after that.

Gregory's back hit the tiled wall and he fell onto the seat of his pants, silently grappling with the shooting pain throughout his body. Unable to move save for involuntary twitches and desperate gasps, Gregory met his own gaze in the mirror and watched as he floundered for air on the ground. He sucked in painful lungfuls, but the oxygen only seemed to set his body ablaze in a paralyzing burn.

Was this what dying was like? And did he really have to die alone on the bathroom floor…?

It was a moment before the needle slowly extracted from his chest. As Gregory slouched over, finally able to abandon his grip on the bear to now clutch the minute hole in his body, he ground his teeth down hard. The kid closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of himself and the pain that felt like it was ripping his very cells apart. After a bit longer, he could finally stand to breathe normally again. With painful tears pricking the corners of his eyes he opened them—only to find steely, devoid, silver irises staring back at him in his reflection.

This wasn't him.

At least, not the way he used to be.

***

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter (Coming soon)

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf au #charlie emily #marionette fnaf #puppet fnaf #ennard #michael afton #glamrock freddy #gregory #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #angelofrainfrogs #zeitghest #spend the night #the wires that bind us au

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te-pu-si-ti · 1 year

Text

Fionn Cox-Davies as Oracle

a conglomeration of multiple loops, details probably mixed up and muddled and forgotten, but I did my best to capture this extremely compelling interpretation of the character

We begin, again.

They rush down the stairs, collecting the sacred bear skin, throwing it over their shoulder, balancing the water bowl with one hand, ready to return to work.

The master has returned, he's in good spirits - he embraces the Oracle. The Oracle pats him on the back, but as the moment ends, their hand is tingling with the blight of the forthcoming. They hold the tainted hand away from themselves until they can wash away this feeling.

It's Iphigenia's big day, she has been practising so hard for this, ready to serve The Maiden. They're so pleased for her, and Artemis will be pleased too. And if Artemis is pleased, the Oracle's life becomes so much easier.

She may be growing up into a beautiful young woman, but she's still a child, still swatting at them playfully with a furry paw. The Oracle cherishes these moments, knowing there may not be many more of them to come.

A vision strikes them like a blunt blow to the head. Their eyes roll back, eyelids twitching as they receive divine instruction. The shower. What is required, you will find it there. Act as the vessel, move the events forward.

So they find the ring in a hollow in the wall, Artemis looking on in approval. They deliver it to the Master, it's good news for little Iphi, isn't it? It's a joyous day. A wedding, and to such a respected member of the army.

The Lady of the house returns with Iphi in tow. Cause for celebration! The party is imminent. Oh, and that scoundrel from Troy is joining us, too. The Master? He's busy with the war effort, of course. He often leaves the Lady alone.

Pour the drinks, make the rounds, it's all a swirling blur. And she's here, The Maiden, Oracle can feel her pushing them this way and that. The Oracle starts to move one way, she sends them spinning in the other direction. They want to cry out, to stop, but she shuffles their feet for them. The events must all proceed, just-so.

So the girl goes down to see her groom, to see her father, and the Oracle just can't look. Away, to the tiny shrine. Someone is already there waiting.

They feel the tainted stench on the boy, too, the weight of the fate hanging over him. The boy doesn't understand, couldn't understand, but the Oracle does what they can, sprinkles him with a bit of the blessed water. It doesn't help.

It's happening, there's nothing we can do, nothing but to push forward and aid the smooth passage of the storm. They will be the midwife. If the Oracle doesn't, it will all be for nothing.

Doesn't stop them from feeling every bit of the pain, though. Ground yourself in the sand, bury yourself in it, and scream a goddess' scream and a mother's scream and your own scream all at once. In their screaming, the ghosts appear to them. There is a shade right in front of them, watching closely, looking them in the eye.

Such things happen when you're... Blessed. Cursed. Touched. Chosen by the goddess.

The shades stay with them, every step of the way.

The Lady requires their assistance. The Master is gone to war. The Lady and the Bastard will be dining this evening, if you please. (He has no table manners. He is covered in blood. He brings out the worst in her.)

When their grisly meal is ended, nothing to do but to tidy up. In tidying, in serving her, the Oracle's hands are bloodied too. This cannot stand. Out, out damned spot, rinse those hands clean, but now the holy water is cloudy with the blood of the tilted walls of this wretched house.

The shade is watching them, floating right behind the mirror in front of them. The Oracle locks eyes with it, then looks away in shame. The bowl, the bowl. The water must be made pure.

The gods are quarrelling right on their doorstep. The Oracle is compelled, moves past them, empties out the water. It's bloodied, useless, it must be pure.

They move as a chess piece. One square at a time, all right angles, block to block to block until they reach the stairs. Blindly, backwards, they descend, thrusting one arm out to their side to whisk away any pesky shadows that might block their way. They are sure-footed, they hold the bowl and the water and the light, they are guided all the way down.

The shade is still there. The Oracle has softened to their constant companion. It must be curious. The curse of this house has attracted the attention of the dead. Well, there's no one else who will listen to the Oracle's prophecies, is there? So they take the shade around the corner and whisper to it everything that is to come.

The Master is home, he's home! And... he's brought someone with him. Oh, the Lady will not be pleased. But there's something familiar about her. Something that connects them together.

Oracle's eyes flit from the girl, to the Master, over briefly to the shade who will not leave them.

When the homecoming ceremony is done, when the Master is wrapped in his fateful carpet, the Oracle clutches their shade by the shoulder.

"If you want to see the prophecy, follow the King."

Does the ghost speak our language? It seems to understand. But it looks the Oracle in the eye as they pull away, and shakes its white-beaked head. Still cursed, then. Still haunted.

The Oracle rushes off to the desert. Glances briefly behind their shoulder, seeing that the shade is still with them. True to its word. Doing as it wills.

The little girl's dress is lying there, covered in sand.

A song. She loved to hear the Oracle sing. They will sing for her.

bees and butterflies picking at her eyes

way down yonder, in the meadow, lies my poor little baby

poor little baby, crying mama...

They bury the dress in the sand. Can't bear the sight of it.

blacks and bays, dapples and greys,

all the------the-----e----e----

Their voice continues, but the words do not. No longer a song, the voice leaving their throat is an artificial tone, a theremin played by the gods.

The humanity leaves their body, the spirit ripples through them, energy bursting out. Their head turns stiffly on its axis.

Released, they break into sobs.

The circle. The circle must be broken. They throw the antlers this way and that, picking them up, casting them aside, returning them to their place.

Someone is watching. It's her, her again, someone else's daughter, only a girl really, but that's the way the Master likes them. A spoil of war.

Their eyes meet. What is there to say? The Oracle cannot help her. The girl knows it, too, because they recognise each other.

The girl has knelt down. The Oracle steps forward. They do not break eye contact.

The moment lasts forever. At last, the Oracle hesitantly takes their bowl, raises their hand, touches her lightly with the only blessing they can bestow. It won't be enough to make a difference.

The water does have power, though. The Oracle knows it. That's why they rush quickly off when they feel the boy's soul passing. Artemis is there, waiting for him. The other soldier is there, tears sparkling in his eyes, dripping down, but that's not the blessed water that the boy needs.

Alone, but surrounded by ghosts, the Oracle kneels down and blesses the boy. The water runs down, washing some of the blood off. The boy's eyelids flicker, he begins to revive. The Oracle runs off before anyone can ask questions.

Time is growing short now. It's all happening. Somehow, another one with the Sight has made it to their side of the border. He is hunched by the lantern, cowering, peeling off his clothes.

Oracle walks up to him silently. More than a sprinkle, they pour water into the man's cupped hands.

Dips their hand into the water again, blesses his bare head. Anoints him.

The man grabs his pile of rags and scampers off. The two of them - no, all three of them - were all just caught up in this mess. We are playthings of the gods. But it won't matter for much longer.

Bless the halls. Bless the bedroom. If this water have any power at all, let it wash away the curse of Atreus. Light scatters through the fringe curtain. It is all Happening just across the way, as they feared it would, as they knew it would.

And the deed is done.

And Iphi... has returned?

They will walk along at her side once more. They kiss her hand, seeing her off with tenderness. Now, they will shed their mortal trappings, slip out of this earthly identity, and join the others.

It's time to begin again.

Here's to new beginnings.

#writeup #oracle #fionn #the burnt city #punchdrunk #fionn cox davies #i deliberated about the pronouns in this one and re-wrote it several times but hopefully it makes sense #fionn cox-davies #we will miss you fionn #let this ending be a wonderful beginning #the burnt city spoilers #iphigenia #agamemnon #Aegisthus #clytemnestra

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