#faith the head rabbit

[bluebird-in-a-cagedrawing]

Nightmare AU part 24

SPOILER: GORE AND A LITTLE DEATH, you have been warned:

This idea hit me for the walls of the motel, it was a nightmare for me to choose the perfect ones but i figured out in the end... Also the motel is big and has different rooms color. 😅

Le souris bonbon neige:" New faces are always welcome, i'm also hungry, when is lunch?"

Amstran the moon dancer:"I heard someone calling me, oh hello, new faces i see."

Hester the photo marksmen:"Weren't you at the lake just now?"

Amstran the moon dancer:"At the lake? Why would i be there? I was with Rosalinda."

Sky Coeur the detective:"Did someone let the main entry open? I saw the locket unlocked, what if there is a thief?"

Lumboo the light ghost:"It's getting late, you should go home Jenna Heart! Tell your father we need at least four more kilograms of fish,maybe Gliudinius."

Jenna Heart:"You are right, i will, hope he can catch them for some reason the fish become hard to catch like they are afraid of something."

Yan-naifu the ghost:She can stay here, looks like a storm is coming soon."

Jenna Heart:"That would be ovely unfortunately i have to go, i don't want to catch me on my way back."

Panel 3

Jenna Heart:"Help!Let me go, you jerk! Nooooo...nooooo,let gooo!"

Yan-naifu the ghost:"Guys, over here, they took Jenna Heart!"

Le souris bonbon neige: Ice! Velvet icee storm ignite!"

Amstran the moon dancer:"Let her go, now! Le souris bonbon neige take left i will take right, let's hurry!"

Panel 4

Jenna Heart:"Put me down! Felix Reddison be careful, no don't harm them!You monster, leave them alone!"

Sweet Lime:"I'm taking care of them, you take her and go..."

Luna the moon demon:" Who are you?Stay right there!"

Sweet Lime:"You can't stop this, we will have the energy for the machine, bags of bones."

Nishya the dream cat: "Oh no, how horrible! How can they do something like this?"

Luna the moon demon:"This is what Feliciano the intoxicated cat warned us about."

Red the future teller:"They use their own people life force, we have to move."

Hester the photo marksmen:"You did this, come here!

Sweet Lime:"I may not be powerful, but i'm not gonna get killed so easily. Poison is my speciality."

Le souris bonbon neige:"Ah, be careful, it's very corrosive, like an acid or something."

Hester the photo marksmen:"You can try your little tricks but that won't work on me!"

Panel 7

Moon on fire:"You are the cat with a purpose, to only serve our False king desire, let the nightmare era begin."

Vanessa the 3 knight:" You sure have a big mouth, eh, shut up, stop crying like a child!"

Le souris bonbon neige: "Ice, now Faith the head rabbit hit them, trap them!"

Faith the head rabbit:"Time ignite zero!"

Staran the galaxy man:"Guys over here, they need help, it's ok Red the fortune teller, we got them."

Amstran the moon dancer:"It's not your fault, Red the fortune teller."

Red the fortune teller:"I should had protected her, but i couldn't do anything...They will be after my sister as well, this... Dream cat is not just a title, you know!"

Amstran the moon dancer:"We can't do anything else, we lost this battle but not the war!"

Melinoë the princess of nightmares:" This is horrible, i feel like this is all my fault, they were after me."

Le souris bonbon neige:"It's nobody fault, at least we know more how this works, we just need to be better prepared."

Felix Reddison:"Well, i think i know who can help you, with that..."

Part 1 till part 23

Also, happy birthday to my pumpkin oc Amstran the moon dancer:

[dirt-str1der]

Kazu/maji is soooooo different than sae/maji this is because saejima and majima are best friends who go together everywhere and frequently close the toilet door in each others faces because they keep trying to follow each other inside and the other guys like No. im going to take a shit and kiryu and majima are like guys who are knotting each other every time they meet and conjoined at the groin , like majima will carry kiryus baby and saejima will raise it with him you know what i mean theres a lack of commitment (but no shortage of passion) with majima and kiryu theyre each others one night stand every single night but saejima and him stick with each other through thick and thin come hell or high water

[lilacargent]

Soooo first post ever and it is because i have gone down the #humansarespaceorcs rabbit hole, and my train of thought was:

Yes humans are weird and do strange things to survive. But more specifically we do weird things to our surroundings to survive, many different things.

What if, it has been a decade or two since the humans joined what ever coalition or council of aliens that work together and as a species they are mostly well known for their ability to grow crops under the worst circumstances (soil, climate anything) ofcourse the other deathworld apex predator human traits make the rounds but over time they seem to assume we cannot surprise them anymore.

Everyone knows that if a planet is ‘owned’ by a certain species they have to pay tax to the coalition, so planets that aren’t particularly useful are undesirable.

This particular planet p-jx-5£2 has been moved around endlessly, given with trade deals to get rid of it. P-jx-5£2 is 97% water, with a very high salt level so inhabitable for all developed aliens. Even though the atmosphere is a nice oxygen base and the gravitational pull allright most for the coalition members the fast spinning moon and the planets quick pace around its sun make the water move and tides switch every 2.5 hours keeping no land dry outside of low tide.

~~~~~~~~

The tall Avian alian il’trexz was elated this day was going to be great, a trade deal with the hardy humans and getting rid of a useless money drain, they didn’t have a clue what they were signing up for!

Turning towards the much smaller bipedal species standing in front of the window looking down on the blue planet that just came into their possession the strange creature mumbled something to them selves, frowning Il’trezx asks ‘im sorry what did you say, you spoke but the translator didn’t pick it up?’ The human (Steve) turned to him away from the window ‘my apologies, i was talking to myself, i said that we had to send the dutch.’ Il’trezx looked befuddled ‘the dutch? Is that some kind of animal?’

Steve threw his head back and made a series of sounds that ruffled the Avians feathers and had he not known it was a laugh it would have made him run for the hills ‘HA I’m going to tell Andreas you said that, no the Dutch is what call people from a country on earth that specialise in these kinds of climates, they’ve been begging for a challenge since they stopped the flooding on the umavi home world.’ With feathers puffed up Il’trezx wonders ‘and they are going to do what? This is an impossible planet’ immediately clasping his beak he looks a the human to see if he seemed angry at being swindled, but to his surprise Steve just looks at him ‘hm so you believe we can’t use this planet. Allright let’s make a bet.’ Interested Il’trezx leans in closer ‘what kind of bet?’ A predatory grin spreads on the bipedal aliens face ‘if we make less of this planet than the amount of tax we have to pay over it we will cover all trade costs for this quarter, insurance, travel all of it.’ Eagerly Il’trezx starts nodding ‘but’ Steve keeps going ‘if we do make more of this planet you will do the same.’

The bet is put onto paper and the higher ups of both parties also agree. In 5 years the Avians would be back and they would balance the costs to the benefits. When they departed Il’trezx says too Steve ‘you must have a lot of faith in these “dutch” ‘ the man grins teeth bared ‘ofcourse, after all they conquered water before’

The five years pass and stories have been going around of a new energy supplier from the humans, producing enough energy to run 78% of their ships and several facilities. Nobody seems to know where it is coming from but no new pollution is measured in any of these facilities. None of this bothers the Avians, after all humans come up with new things all the time.

The five years are up and Il’trezx is invited to the planet with a group of advisors and other officials, the planet which apparently they have renamed to ‘posy’ which is supposed to be short for some kind of sea god from their olden days.

On arrival the amount of coming and going baffles them massive groups of ships docking or docked and all somehow attached to wires that run into machines.

The planets change alone was awe inspiring, two cities on opposite sides of the planet and what seems like millions of weird blades attached to high poles every where. Strange wheels and long walls between towers rising from the rapidly moving waters.

This… this was their new energy source. They somehow made a battery of this uninhabitable planet and then built a home.

On the meeting place Steve is waiting with a man slightly taller than him. Spreading his arms the smaller human says ‘welcome to Poseidon, this is Andreas our main mechanic here. He has been here with planning since orbit 1.’

After the introductions were done Andreas led the group through what they called the Northern city and showed on his device the steps it took to get a foothold and how they proceeded from there, mentioning that many of these steps his home country had used thousands of year ago to gain land from sea, and energy from the movement of water and air. They specialised in this form of terra forming and it showed.

The Avians were astounded, not having realised that there was more than one kind of way the Humans had battled their environment even beating back the waters of their world.

Without a doubt the humans had won the bet and had another legend added to their name. More and more humans showed that with the right motivation they could settle right about anywhere.

********

So yea… my stupid little idea. Hopefully someone will enjoy it. I just liked the idea of specific cultures and stuff. specialising in certain things.

Edit: im amazed people seem to like it! If people have ideas or other cultures they think would baffle aliens, im certainly willing to try and write something

[inazuman]

tools of destiny

☁  blade x f!reader s.mut, honkai: star rail ☁  reader is afab. yandere, dubcon, kidnapping, blade calls reader some derogatory language but there's praise too, bondage (belt), whipping, breeding, oral sex (f receiving), cumplay, stockholm syndrome ☁  A/N: basically it's yandere dubcon kidnapper blade with reader who tries to fight back only to give in to the pleasure. also cherubimbunny gave me this fic idea hehe ily mwah ☁ 6k words ☁ @trailblazernet

Blade’s loyalty to the Stellaron Hunters, to Destiny’s Slave, knows no bounds.

Let me out! Please!

He follows every order with little question, giving Elio his complete faith.

I-I haven’t done anything bad, I swear!

He abandoned his body to become a weapon. He has murdered, deceived, and taken from others in the name of destiny.

Where am I? Where are you taking me?

His actions with you are no exception.

“Please. Please let me go. What do you want from me?!”

You speak as soon as you hear the door open, your blindfold seeped with tears that streak down your cheeks. The person says nothing, and the door clicks close. Heavy footsteps track towards you, warm hands untying the cloth from around your head even as you try to shuffle back on the floor, their expensive-smelling cologne filling the air.

You blink once, twice, looking around you. You’re in a… a bedroom? Your breath is taken by the luxury surrounding you, a full king size bed on high stilts sits right behind you.

You stare at the man that captured you, and he can’t help but stare back at your eyes, the way they’re full of anger and hurt.

“What did you bring me here for? I haven’t done anything wrong, haven’t hurt anyone. Why am I here?”

He simply observes you, the way you move from demure to strong to pitiful, as if one of those will finally grant you an answer from him.

After a beat of silence, two, he finally speaks.

“I won’t lie to you. You are a prisoner here.” He keeps his head tilted down, but you swear you think he almost looks pleased witha slight smile on his face. “But we mean you no discomfort, for the most part. If you choose, you can live comfortably. We will take care of you, feed you well, give you anything you’d like to keep you entertained. You may even want to join our side. Or,” he shifts his weight off the wall, taking one step forward, and you immediately feel fear enrapture you, like the walls are closing in around you. You shuffle back, retreating until your shoulders hit the footboard of the bed.

Like a hunted rabbit, he can’t help but think. Something about a scared, pretty girl has him running his thumb against his jaw, though there’d be time for that later.

“Or,” he continues, “you can make this difficult. You can try to escape, but you won’t be able to. And I will tie you up, break your legs, whatever is necessary to ensure the arrival of the destiny that Elio chooses.”

“Destiny?! What destiny could I be involved in?”

With a flick of his wrist, his sword materializes in his hand. You immediately regret your tone. The bed shifts behind you as you press your back against it, but faster than you can blink, the edge of the sword slices against your ties from the side. You roll your wrists free, the chafing evident on your skin.

He doesn’t care to answer, pressing a button on the wall, door sliding open, but he hesitates. He turns his jaw back to you, as if lost in thought and eyeing you up all at once.

“A destiny greater than both you and I,” the words are voiced carefully, like a prophecy, but the moment is gone in an instant. “Rest up, girl. Know that even if you make it off this floor, there is nowhere to run. We are in the Stellaron Hunters’ headquarters, in the middle of space.”

He leaves swiftly, and you make a note of the way two different locks sound as the door shuts – one mechanical, one electronic.

You look around to find that the man is correct. There is a table with a screen that acts as both a vanity and a computer, expertly hacked so that you can play games and watch shows, but can’t communicate with the outside world. The bathroom is just as hauntingly beautiful, with both a bathtub and a shower, even the sink counter is littered with various, unopened products.

All the added ways that they’ve evidently made the bedroom as comfortable as possible have ironically made the situation all the more fearful. How long do they plan to keep you here? What do they need from you? What does your comfort matter to them? 

But you’re exhausted. You only manage to shower and brush your teeth before crashing on the bed.

-

It’s unfortunate that it’s Blade’s job to care about your comfortability, but in Elio’s words, ‘the less resistance she has to you, the better’.

He takes the painstaking, daily task of bringing you your three meals at set times, leaving them on your desk like some kind of butler or room service (that’s his limit. Someone else can take them out when you’re done). All so you can get used to him, his presence, grow some sort of sick attachment to him.

Stockholm syndrome is what Kafka called it.

“Human emotions are fickle, you see,” Kafka trails her hand over his shoulder, playing the little game she plays to keep someone entranced on her. But Blade has seen it far too many times to have any reaction. “They aren’t… something that can be mapped with 100% guarantee in destiny’s path. Though, her acceptance and willingness in this situation isn’t necessary, it would make things easier.”

He waves the explanation off, retiring to his room to handle the second part of his job with you. The dreams.

He plants them in your mind with his abilities as mere suggestions. His hand grazing over your thighs, between them, up your body, to your breasts… His breath hot against your skin, his hard member pressed up against you…

You jolt awake from them, covered in cold sweat.  

It’s all in preparation for the day Kafka tells you the truth of your arrival.

-

“You are to create a powerful warrior, the heir of Destiny.”

Kafka says it so gently during your weekly meeting that you step back, shocked and enraged all at once.

“Excuse me?” you almost spit the words at her. “How dare you-”

“Ah, ah.” She taps the gun strapped to her side once. “We’ve been real nice to you, sweetheart. I’d hate to see things get messy between us, wouldn’t you?”

You shut up immediately, realizing the situation. You’ve been brought here and treated well, not because they care, or because they even like you, but for this purpose alone.

“You get it now, don’t you?” she whispers in your ear, playing with your hair, both intimate and threatening all at once. “There are things we can do to make you more… placid in the situation. But something consensual would make it more pleasant for the both of you. We’ve even added some items in your bathroom, so that you can feel nice and fresh before and after. What do you say, hm? You wanna play with some new things?”

-

You take the week Kafka gives you to prepare. But what you prepare is not just your body or your looks. The nail files you were given have been sharpened steadily, forks and knives from your meals tucked under different parts of your mattress and pillows. Any attempt to search up how to prevent a pregnancy or anything even related to it gives a blank page. Whoever is their tech person is damn good.

On the day of, Kafka raps her knuckles three times over your door. You know it’s her, because Blade never knocks. Her eyes rack up and down your body, an eyebrow arched.

“Blade will be here any minute. Are you not going to get dressed?”

She doesn’t wait for your answer, moving straight towards your closet with some girl best friend mentality instead of your captor. You play with the hem of your pajama shirt, your fingers jittering against the fabric as she hums quietly, hangars clicking against each other with every nervous second, only stopping with a satisfied mhmm!

“Here you go, sweetheart.” She pulls out a raunchy, wine red lingerie set with a matching sheer gown, almost like the colors on Blade’s usual outfit.

“It doesn’t really matter what I wear, does it?”

You shouldn’t question her, shouldn’t comment, but the overthinking runs through your mind so heavily that words full or resentment spew out before you can stop yourself. What happens after you’ve had the baby? Is that it? Is your purpose finished? 

Kafka smiles sweetly at you. “Of course it matters. You and Blade are Destiny’s match. In some cultures, a pre-organized match is how all marriages are made. As long as you cooperate, this could be a pleasurable experience! I’ve heard Blade’s quite talented in bed.” She acts like the conversation is nothing, holding the lingerie up to your body to see if the color matches your skin tone.

As long as you cooperate.

“A-After…”

Kafka laughs, so sweetly you might even feel like you were friends. “Oh, darling! As long as everything goes smoothly, there are no plans to get rid of you just yet. Does that help that pretty little head of yours?” She taps your forehead before pressing the hangars against your hands, gently pushing you towards the bathroom.

“Good luck, darling! I just know you look beautiful.”

-

Despite your preparations, nothing prepares you for Blade’s presence.

His heavy boots strike the floor with every step into your room before he sits at the foot of your bed to remove them with a thump, like he belongs here. He’s closer than he’s ever been to you since the day he grabbed you, so much so that you can smell his aftershave.

When he glances at you past his fringe, you tuck the blanket closer over you. It’s cute, he thinks. Even after seeing him day after day, you’re still the scared bunny he captured. He chuckles low in his throat. He approaches you like a predator seeking its prey, his arms stretched out. As if the open gesture makes him any less dangerous, as if you feel any less hunted. He wants to tell you that there’s nothing to be scared of, but you’d both know he’s lying.

“I can make this good for you,” he opts for instead, kneeling over you on the bed. You can’t help but notice how he towers over you, how tight his clothing fits over his body. He watches carefully at the way your fingers twitch in response.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Why don’t you show me what’s under that blanket?” He carefully brings himself over, tugging the blanket between your hands, right in front of your chest. You let him, the duvet falling away, his eyes instantly marveling over your figure.

He wolf-whistles low, the sheer gown doing nothing to hide the pretty lingerie that hugs your body underneath.

“You got all prettied up for me, doll?” He wants to touch you, wants to tear it off of you like he was promised he’d be able to, but a glint of something holds him back. Because when he looks right into your eyes –

They burn with aggression. Even behind the fear and the innocence, he can feel the way you’re just about to fight or flight.

“Why don’t you let me in, doll? Let me touch you, okay?” He removes his shirt as he talks, unbuttoning it and sliding it off to reveal strong muscle and scarred tissue, your eyes wide at his figure.

You’re hesitant, not even sure why he’s asking, but you nod anyways. He starts with placing his hand on your calf, moving it up to your knee, reminding you of the dreams you’ve had night after night of him exactly like this, the touch both light and electric. He runs his other hand over your jaw, thumb over your cheek, even as you flinch slightly away.

“’m gonna kiss you,” the warning is a courtesy. He needs to speed things up, pressing a kiss to your forehead to test the waters, before pressing another one to your lips.

It’s soft, at first, his lips pillowy against your own. He deepens it, resting the back of your head onto the pillow, pressing your body into the mattress. His tongue swipes behind your teeth.

You wait, like a bird about to swoop down. Let your legs wrap around his torso, bringing him close, a soft groan escapes him from your initiative, eagerly seeking you back as his hands work their way up your thighs.

And then you strike, your heartbeat sharp in your chest, reaching behind you to grab a sharp nail file and hauling it towards his neck-

You hear it clatter to the ground before you can even process, wrist pinned to the mattress, squeezed borderline painfully between his thumb and forefinger. He acts like it’s nothing, continues wrapping his tongue around yours like you hadn’t just attempted to murder him. The only gesture he even recognizes what you did is the slight smile you feel against your lips as he pulls you in for another kiss.

So you fight, you aim between his legs as you kick and thrash, only for his other hand to wrap a hand around both your ankles clasped together. With both his hands occupied, you grab at the inside of one of your pillows to stab a fork into his side, but he’s faster, always faster, using his calf to pin your legs down as he slams your other wrist down on either side of you. His hands cover over yours like a lover, he comes right up against your ear to whisper –

“Tsk, tsk. Bad girl.”

The nail files you sharpened, the forks and knives you kept from your meals. All of it becomes futile, useless, against Blade. Every attempt you make to even scrape him between kisses are effectively knocked away, as if they never happened. He presses your hips down heavier into the bed.

“My, my. Someone’s been naughty when preparing for my arrival, haven’t you?”

“H-How can you go through with this?!” You spew out in frustration at his unfazed manner. “You kidnap, murder, manipulate others just for the sake of destiny? Some abstract cause that you don’t even see the full picture of?”

He laughs, but there’s no humor behind it, grabbing at your neck and squeezing, your hands flying down to his wrists immediately to resist.

“Maybe I enjoy it. Hm? You ever thought about that? Sure, if you’ve lived as long as I have, the killing starts to feel more like a chore. But taking a scared little girl and forcing her into bed with me? Well,” he growls in your ear, “maybe I get off on it.”

He releases you, letting you cough and taking in big gulps of air. He licks a stripe up your neck and over your lips, lets his teeth nibble against your jawline as he grips the back of your neck and manoeuvres your robe off to reveal your stomach, large hands splaying over the expanse of exposed skin.

“Besides, that’s not a nice way to treat someone doing you a favor, is it?” He grips you by the jaw, forcing you to look straight into his glowing eyes.

“I could just cum inside of you and be done with this,” he speaks through gritted teeth, his gaze following down the line of your body and back up. “So, you get one more chance to be good. No more tryna kill me, you’re just gonna lie back and let me take care of you. Answer me back, doll.”

You nod as much as you can with your cheeks mushed by his fingers.

“No more misbehavior. I’m being nice, darlin’. You get that? I’m preparing you.” He presses the length of his body against yours, your eyes widening as you feel his large member pressing against the seam of his pants, right against your core.

He smirks at your reaction. “Yeah. You get it now, don’t you, baby?” His teeth scrape against your earlobe as his breath ghosts over your ear. “If I made you take me without preparing you, you wouldn’t walk for days.”

You want to roll your eyes, to quip back, to tell him to fuck off, but then he’s stripping you of your bra, his mouth closing over your nipple, long fingers trailing over your thighs and towards your clothed core.

And all you can think, is that it’s better than the dreams you’ve had of him.

He knows exactly what he’s doing. How he licks at the underside of your breast, leaving bite marks at your cleavage, sucking at your nipples. How he teases his fingertips over your clothed core until the fabric sticks to you, nail trailing around your clit, thumb flitting just over and under the edge of your panties.

The way you can’t help but arch your back into him is telling at best and pathetic at worst.

“Already weak for me?” he chuckles darkly, pulling down your panties with a low whistle at the mess you’ve made.

“Has it been a while, princess?” he kisses your hip, lets his tongue trail over just so you can imagine what it’d be like to have his mouth on you. He knows how long they’ve kept you here under close watch, and yet he has the nerve to comment on it.

But he’s right, and you realize just how right he is when he drags his fingertips through your folds.

And it’s in this hazy, lust-filled moment that you figure if you’re going to be bred like an animal in this room to create the heir of destiny, you might as well get something out of it, willingly receive the pleasure you’re given, especially as his breath catches over your core, his nose digging into your inner thigh.

He watches as your shoulders go lax and your thighs tense. “Mm, that’s right, baby. You just relax and let me take care of you, hmm?” He laps at your inner thigh, coating it with saliva like he’s claiming you, you might think you find it almost disgusting if he didn’t match it with a long lick right at your core, from your entrance all the way up your clit.

Your response is immediate, your nails digging into the bedsheets below you as he chuckles, his hair and fringe tickling your thighs as he wraps his arms around each of your legs, holding you steady as he trails his tongue in a zig-zag motion over your core. He teases you every time, getting slower before he laps over your clit and then starting again from the bottom, until your bottom lip wobbles and your hips buck into his face, unable to contain how badly you want his tongue.

When you look down and make eye contact with him, you see his crazed eyes darkened. You almost feel scared to ask, scared to make requests when his tongue purposefully caves into your core.

He chuckles as he watches you weigh the options in your fogged mind, whether your desperation is worth risking the sight of him materializing his cracked sword. He teases you again, teeth grazing against the edge of your folds, circling wide around your bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, spiralling towards the centre only to purposefully avoid it again. Your chest rises, heartbeat loud in your chest, unable to contain the whine that escapes you.

“I-,” you try despite your fear, only for the words to be choked in your throat as he laps another circle around your clit.

“Got something to say, little one?” You can feel his lips moving over your core as he speaks, tonguing your entrance.

“W-Wanna- please-”

“Mm, can’t decide if I like you better when you’re begging or when you’re trying to kill me.”

 Oh, so he’s got jokes. You almost want to smack him as he laughs, but he interrupts you.

“Beg for it more.”

He slides a finger into you, so much longer and thicker than your own, as you babble something that sounds like “please, Blade, please, please”. He finally grazes his tongue over your clit once, twice, your back arching as he takes the opportunity to slide another finger into you.

“You gonna beg the same way for my cock, darling?” He crooks his fingers towards himself to press against your spongy walls, your wetness leaking down and coating his hand. “Answer me when I ask a question, doll. Don’t make me tell you again.”

“Yes, fuck, Blade- gonna- gonna beg for your cock, ah, please, I wanna-” he decides that’s as good as it gets, bringing your clit between his lips and suckling over. Your hands grip the sheets so hard your knuckles turn white, your hips bucking into his face uncontrollably as the pleasure builds.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. Go ahead and cum for me,” his words are muffled against your heat, his shoulders keeping your thighs open even as they twitch and squeeze around him. He laps at your clit between suckles, fingers hitting your g-spot with every slide in, and you cum hard over his face and around his fingers. Your slick coats his tongue, your walls shaking with each wave, mouth open in a silent scream, mind fogged and empty except for the feel of him and the warm muscle of his tongue as he works you through it. It feels endless as your clit trembles in his mouth, your heartbeat loud and your breath harsh.

You come down with your chest still heaving, his tongue slowing down over you until you instinctively try to move away from him because of the sensitivity. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin over his face.

“Told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Now,” he kneels back onto the bed, expanse of his chest visible, spreading your legs wide to fit his body between them. “We came to an agreement earlier, didn’t we? What did we say you’d do?”

“B-Beg for your cock…” you whisper it softly, demure even though he just had you thrashing over his face.

“Mhmm. So tell me, darling, what do you want?”

“W-Want you… want your cock-”

“More.”

“I- Blade,” you whine, “I want your cock inside of me. Is- is that what you-”

“Yeah, baby. I want you wet and sticky between your legs, begging for my cock despite the circumstances. That’s exactly what I want.”

He watches you, you let him watch you, as he unbuckles his belt with a click, letting it fall to the floor somewhere. You watch as his eyes skate down your form, his chest puffed and breathing deep, his pants pulling down to reveal more of his muscled torso and Adonis belt.

He’s stunning, you’re sure anyone would think so, there’s a small, self-sacrificial part of you that thinks you might even be lucky that in these unfortunate circumstances, such a beautiful man is the one taking you. But in his mind, nothing beats the way your eyes widen as his underwear falls to the floor to reveal his cock, both thick and long, the mushroom tip enlarged. You’re not sure if it’s fear or arousal that seeps into your veins as you back yourself up on the bed with your elbows, only for him to grab you by your thighs and drag you back towards him.

“Ah, ah. Where do you think you’re running, hm?” He pulls your legs up so his large hands can wrap around the back of each of your thighs, pushing your knees wide open and towards your chest.

Only when his hair tickles your ear, his breath ghosting over your neck, do you begin to reach under the mattress and towards the headboard. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s futile, that it’s a bad idea. He had been so nice to you, hadn’t he? Is this self-survival, or self-destruction?

You can almost pretend it’s in ecstasy, in anticipation of having his cock inside of you, as you draw a knife out and whisk it towards him.

The slap of his palm against your wrist happens so fast you don’t even process it until you hear him tsk, his fingers squeezing you so tightly until your hand opens up, metal clanging onto the floor as you let out a sob.

“And I had been so nice to you.” His voice drops an octave, a condescending, disappointed look is on his face as he stands back up, the kind that makes you want to bite back at him. The words never make it out, your mouth dry as he moves faster than you can blink to pick up his belt, the loud whip of it slapping against his palm making you flinch.

It’s in this moment that you remember what they called him, what Kafka called him. The greatest weapon destiny has ever forged.

“Blade, wait-” You try to use what little empathy he might’ve had for you before you had gone and done what you did, but it’s no use.

He laughs sadistically. “Wait?” He slaps the belt against the back of your thigh, your hands not moving in time to protect yourself, instead you wince as your fingertips tap against the now-welted skin.

“I did everything right, didn’t I? Talked to you, brought you your meals, ate you out until you came over my mouth.” Another whip rings out in the room against the back of your other thigh, making you yelp in agony.

“And yet, how do you repay me, hm?” He climbs over you, lightning fast, one hand gripping your chin and cheeks, mushing them, forcing you to look at him.

“Stupid girl,” he spits the words in your face. “You should’ve been grateful that I had been so kind.”

He whips you a third time over your core as you cry out, his face uncaring as tears start to drip down your cheeks. He grabs both of your wrists with one hand, looping his belt around them and between the intricate woodwork of the headboard, pulling until the leather is tight and clasping it together.

“I’ll tell you what, girl,” his hand wraps around your neck, not clasping down but the threat is there all the same, his thumb caressing over. “It was a good effort you made, I’ll give you that. But I could detect your micromovements of aggression from a mile away.” He squeezes your neck a little harder, listening to you gasp and choke under him. “You could never have won against me.”

After weeks of being patient, he finally, finally, gets to sink his cock into you. He jerks in his own hand at the thought, the blunt tip pressing against your entrance, surprised to find you even more slick than before. His hands resume where they were before, grabbing where your skin has turned raw from his abuse.

“Now, you’re gonna lie there all pretty and pliant like you’re meant to, and I’m gonna do my job. And you’re gonna thank me for fucking you slow, even though you don’t deserve it, because I wanna take in every inch of this pussy like I was promised.”

He bullies the first inch his cock into you with a satisfied smile, watches with greedy, perverted eyes as your slick already starts to coat and drip down his cock. He feels the way the ring of muscle restricts as he slides the second inch in.

“So fucking tight,” he groans. Your walls clamp down around him, almost like they’re stopping him from pushing in anymore, but he forces himself in anyways. You try to push him off with your legs, try to tell him that you’re “so full, so much,” but all he does is huff with a smile.

He feels his tip hit against your cervix, his balls slapping against your ass, and lets out a satisfied sigh. You think he’s done until his arms tense again, pressing in deeper again, an extra few centimetres shifting into you, even as you cry and sob that it’s too much and too big, until you swear your cervix opens up a little just for him to fill that space.

He’s so thick and hard inside you that you feel like you can’t breathe, the pressure so high inside of you that can’t even properly squeeze your walls around him. The feeling is suffocating, your wrists straining against his belt.

“Got you all prepped and ready for me, pretty thing,” he pulls out of you almost entirely, your cunt already feeling empty, before slamming back in hard. Your whole body jolts against the bed, he fills every part inside of you, the tip of his member pushing against your cervix again, making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Now you’re gonna take me like you’re meant to, like you’re made to.” He pounds into you over and over again, your hands flat against the headboard as it shakes with each thrust. “And I’m gonna cum inside you, doll, just like I promised. And we’re gonna do this night after night, until your pussy moulds into the shape of my cock.”

He groans, pressing your knees down with his heavy body weight, until you’re almost chest-to-chest, his head draped beside yours. “Gonna cum deep inside of you, load after load, until you’re filled to the brim. Never gonna use my own hands again when this sweet cunt is just down the hall. My personal fucking cocksleeve.” Your mind goes blank with every thrust that hits deep inside of you, whines and moans leaving you, your breath catching with every kiss the tip makes with your cervix.

“You’re gonna go to sleep every night with my cum inside of you, wake up every morning to it still sticky between your thighs.” You swear he’s gone insane. When you turn to look at him, his eyes are wild, almost feral and destructive. But he’s watching his cock slide in and out of you, the frothy ring that forms at the base of his cock, the sight of it making some animalistic urge inside of him come out to scream to him that you’re his.

“You take me so well, doll. Shh, yes, baby, I know it feels good.” He doesn’t care anymore. The whole heir of destiny shit is at the back of his mind compared to the way your pussy feels squeezing around him.

“But y’know, baby,” he hisses through his teeth, “You cumming isn’t particularly necessary.” The whine that you elicit at hearing that makes him smile, you’re so adorable that he kisses your cheek. “Maybe that’ll be your punishment, hm? If ya really wanna cum, you’re gonna have to beg me for it.”

You pull on your restraints uselessly. “Please, Blade, please make me cum. I wanna cum, fuck, you’re so big.”

It’s clear to Blade that you’re not in your right mind by the way your eyes are glazed over, body limp aside from the way your thighs tighten around him, whimpering pleads and apologies and his name.

“Got nothing but cock in your brain, don’t ‘cha? Just a hole, made to be bred. That what you are? A pretty girl made for me to cum inside?”

You pant yes into his ear, you don’t know anything except how much you need him. Need for him to touch you, to let you cum, to fuck you.

“Say it then, my pretty girl. Say you want my cum.”

Your words feel foreign in your own ears the minute they come out of your mouth, you can’t believe for a minute what you’re saying but you decide you don’t care either.

“W-Want your cum, Blade.”

Your voice is meek, soft in comparison to the slap of skin as he fucks you harder, deeper. Nothing makes Blade happier than breaking a pretty girl to beg for his cum.

“Mm, good girl. You can be good after all, can’t you?” He brings his hand down between your legs, brushing over where you’re both connected to right at the base, picking up the slick that still continues to drip down your crack. He brings it up to your clit, grazes it with his thumb, and your reaction is instant, whining so loudly it borders on a scream. You swear you see stars at the feeling of your clit and cervix being stimulated all at once, again and again until you start to clench down hard and uncontrollably around him.

“Shit, fuck, baby, you gotta let me in-” Blade forces his cock into you despite it, hips snapping against yours. You’re so far gone, uncaring of the way your body thrashes against his, mind empty except for the way his cock fills you up over and over again.

“Yeah, fuck yeah. You gonna cum, baby? Ah, fuck. You’re gonna take my cum, take it all when I cum deep inside of you. Go ahead, pretty, go on and come for me.”

You don’t know if he’s somehow brainwashed you but his words are like a command that your body instinctively knows to follow, your thighs tightening, head falling back, your walls squeezing his cock impossibly tighter until your body jerks and you’re cumming. Your hands grip on your restraints tight, back arching and heartbeat loud in your chest and ears as he works you through it, his fingers never ceasing over your clit. You feel the way Blade’s tempo starts to falter, the beautiful groan he makes as he thrusts as deep as he can go once, twice, and then his warm seed spills inside of you, coating your walls and womb white, filling you up.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, baby.” He overstimulates you both, fucking his cock in one more time with a hiss and another thrum of his thumb over your clit that has you trying to reel back just a little from him, even in your tired state, your walls still shaking with aftershocks.

He pulls out of you incredibly slowly, as if he’s careful to leave all of his fluids inside of you. He plugs your whole with his thumb as soon as he pulls out, but it only stops the inevitable from happening for a few seconds before his cum starts to spill out past it.

“You- you came so much,” you’re not sure if you exclaim it in wonder or horror, realizing what you had both just done.

He smirks. “Yeah, baby. And you’re gonna keep it inside of you for me, mmkay?” He plays with the cum that drips out of your hole, coating his fingers with it before pushing it back inside of you.

“This pussy’s mine now.” 

-

The aftercare is a blur in your almost passed-out state. Blade picks up your lace panties and rides them back up your legs for you, to “keep his cum inside of you” and then says something about getting a plug. He makes you drink water, bringing a glass with a straw to you. The last thing you remember is him undoing your wrists of his belt before falling asleep.

As he lies next to you, Blade’s own voice echoes through his mind. Just a hole, made to be bred.

He knows you’ll likely take it as something he said in the moment. Well, it doesn’t really matter how you take it. But he realizes, it’s the first time he’s ever lied to you.

As cruel as Blade is, he believes in honesty. Maybe that’s the cruellest part about him.

But even as he lies next to your passed-out figure in bed, applying tincture to your wrists with such gentleness he’d never reveal to you in your waking state… He can feel the power that surges through you.

He presses his palm just under where your diaphragm would be, where the power is the strongest. Even in its unawakened state, even to Blade himself who is only half-awakened, remembering just parts of his past lives, even he can feel it. The way the power courses in waves, pulsing inside of you like a second heartbeat.

--

A/N: it’s a miracle this fic didn’t have a daddy kink in it but the next blade fic i write definitely will LMAOO

[byebyassociation]

Analysis explaining why Daan can be inferred as a survivor of sexual violence, particularly in childhood through the Bunnymasks.

Text version below cut

“But it’s never stated Daan is a csa survivor”

Daan’s parents raised him in the Bunnymask sect of Sylvian’s cult. This sect is one of the few religious communions we’ve seen ingame.

It’s a massive orgy.

His parents traveled around to attend these orgies and neglected Daan

“Since you were a toddler, you had been travelling around the Europa with your parents. Your parents were devout followers of the older god of fertility and creation, Sylvian. Because of the nature of Sylvian's cult, in each new town you'd witness your parents putting on their rabbit masks and heading to the meadows naked with all the other cult members. You hated this life. Your parents would be more concerned on the matters of religion than you.” 

Which would be the end of it if not for this line

“To make it worse, they even tried to pass on the healing gift of Sylvian to you.”

Daan does not learn healing whispers at this point in time. He does not learn loving whispers either. Both are spells which restore the body’s health. He doesn’t learn anything from this, in fact. This is not something that can be used in a playthrough nor even further elaborated on in flavor dialogue.

In the original Fear and Hunger when you encounter the Bunnymask cult you are able to join in their activities. This gives your party a full mind and body heal. Unfortunately this is likely what Daan learned in his youth.

Daan was sexually trafficked through his faith while under the age of 13.

“You were 13 years of age and alone in the Kingdom of Rondon. You had to do something for living...”

Pickpocket Route

“You weren't cut out to be a street thug, so you had to rely on the only skills you had for the money... The healing gift of Sylvian. You ended up starting a street praction of medical care where you'd heal people of all social classes. You soon became surprisingly adept with the healing gift of Sylvian.”

And sadly escaped this sex cult by further being exploited through underage sex work, here is where he learned formal Sylvian spells

“You learned Healing Whispers and your affinity with Sylvian grew!”

Honest Work Route

“A butler of a local aristocrat took you under his wing as an apprentice. You started working for the Baron Eihner Von Dutch.”

Or offering sexual knowledge to an older man in exchange for an education, a deal called a ‘proposition’ by an older Daan.

“He taught you about the modern medical practices in exchange for your knowledge on the older god Sylvian.”

Note: Eihner being a predator of some kind is a heavily contentious theory as it hinges on his behavior as a sulfer cultist. However it is pretty fucking weird tm to be having a kid talk about sylvian, goddess of fertility, sex and lust in exchange for some sort of education

This is not all, just the instances and implications that immediately come to mind.

[writemywaytoyourheart]

Bedeviled | Chapter 14: Always Faithful, Always Strong

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, drama, horror

WC: 16.3k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, anxiety, fear, mentions of blood and injuries, religious themes, mentions of past death and grief, tensionnnn, talk of loss of virginity, JK has mood issues, cruelty, insinuation of torture, betrayal...if there is anything i missed pls kindly let me know

Previous ML

The little angel holding your hand smiled excitedly at you. 

“See? It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she whispered. 

You nodded slowly, looking over at the taller figure beside the small angel. You couldn’t see their face due to the forest-green glow illuminating them from the inside out. Still, they felt so very familiar.

“Are you ready?”

You looked back at the small child when she spoke again, still grinning. Her smile was brighter than all the stars in the sky, the pale yellow wings on her back so tiny and fragile. 

Larger front teeth protruded slightly from her mouth, making her look like a rabbit. 

A very cute rabbit. 

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face. 

Her sweet grin really did remind you of someone…

“Am I ready for what?” You asked, confused. Your mind was a little blank.

A tiny giggle that sounded like ringing bells fell from the child’s lips, “To go home.”

You blinked slowly. 

“Home?”

The ghost of the word left your mouth quietly in a single breath, full of a longing you’d never felt. 

“Mhm!” 

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

The grip on your hand tightened a little more. 

Turning your head, your brows furrowed when you saw someone lying in the bed you got out of. She was in a very worn-through white nightgown, her face drained of life as she lay there, a thin layer of sweat glistening on her splotchy face. She appeared to be in a deep sleep.

One she would not wake from. 

The rest of the shack was no livelier. There was a vase full of roses, but they were wilted beyond saving.

It was cold and dark. 

And lonely.

You turned back to the two beings and gave a small nod. 

“I’d like to go home.”

The little girl smiled giddily, then all you could see was white brightness closing in around you and a warmth that enveloped your cold body. 

Blue, pink, and purple lights appeared, surrounding you. Gold and silver swirled around in beautiful shapes. Colors you’d never seen before danced in your vision as the sound of beautiful music played, bringing a deep and wonderful ache into your heart.

Then everything was white again. 

You blinked hard a few times. 

Your heart stopped for a moment when you saw that you were surrounded by clouds. Looking down, you realized you were standing on one. 

Oh.

Oh my.

“____.”

The voice was that of a woman’s; deep but gentle, like a pool of warm chocolate. It brought a comfort so strong you felt your eyes water at just the single word. 

It came from the shining figure. 

The little angel was gone, only the tall being remained, standing in front of you. You still couldn’t see their face, but you were not afraid. You looked at them expectantly. 

“You suffered for a long time.”

A single unwitting tear fell from your eye at the unexpected words. It slid down your cheek and fell to the clouds underfoot. 

No one had ever spoken to you with such empathy in your entire existence; an empathy that reached deep into your soul where no other had touched.

You’d never felt more understood.

Then the feeling of grief washed over you. It was as if every painful thing that ever happened to you was consuming your mind and body in a matter of seconds, taking your breath away. Even though you couldn’t remember what exactly had happened before waking up in that room, you could feel every agonizing minute of it.

“You were alone for so long, scared for so many years, carrying it all on your own. Everything you gained along the way, you lost horribly by the end.”

You looked at the figure that was watching you closely and gulped, the pain not ceasing as you fell to your knees, unable to handle the agony surging through you. 

 “Was it worth it, ____?”

Tears fell from your eyes steadily as you held your heart, body shaking. 

Then you could see him: his sweet smile as he handed you an apple, the warmth of his hand that held yours, the big brown eyes that looked into your own with a comfort so strong it never failed to fix anything that was scaring you…his beautiful soul.

No matter how wretched it felt at times in that life, you were never alone.

A sob tore itself from your throat as you began to remember everything that you had forgotten at first. Everything that you had, no matter how fleeting, before it was ripped from you. 

You looked up at the figure that brought you to this place. 

“Yes,” you whispered.

Although you couldn’t see it, you felt the invisible person smile.

All at once, the pain was gone, replaced with a joy so breathtaking you knew you would do every single second of it again, even if you had been truly alone.

-

You walked along slowly, the invisible person at your right as the two of you strolled through the clouds. She was so tall that if you could see her clearly, you were sure the top of your head would only reach her elbow. 

“Why did you say I was alone most of my life?” You asked quietly, “If you already knew I wasn’t after meeting him.”

“Did the thought not cross your mind, ____?” The woman’s voice asked gently, “Were there not times you felt it was that way?”

You gulped, then gave a small nod, “At the hardest times…I suppose I did, yes.”

“That is why I phrased it that way. That thought, that doubt, was always there; lingering in the back of your mind. No, you didn’t think he wasn’t there for you. But on those dark nights without him there, it would come back. That anger of what was happening to you would come back, wouldn’t it?”

You nodded slowly. 

“You needed to answer the question with that present. You needed to realize the truth yourself in the face of that despair.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

They nodded and you two fell into silence once more.

“Where are we going?” You asked, watching your feet disappear into clouds impossibly soft but still strong enough to hold you up. 

You had always dreamed of being in the clouds. It was so much more than you had ever imagined.

“We’re going home.”

You hummed in response, then spoke up again, “Why did I forget everything for a little bit? How could I have forgotten him?” 

“Do not blame yourself. It can happen at times, when someone passes. Especially if that person passed in a traumatic way. Those that do, tend to forget briefly who they were or where they came from. But it comes back rather quickly.”

“Oh…where did she go?” You whispered after a moment of contemplating, “The little angel.”

“You will see her again,” There was a gentle amusement in the being’s tone as she continued to walk beside you. You had a feeling she was more amused by your incessant questions than irritated.

“Oh, good.”

As you walked, you suddenly saw a huge golden gate ahead, appearing from the clouds. 

“Is this home?” You asked breathlessly, stopping in front of the magnificent structure. You weren’t sure what was beyond them, but something was pulling you there, tugging gently at your heart. 

“It is.”

You just knew that the moment you stepped through those gates, you would never feel out of place again. 

Someone was waiting inside for you. 

They had waited a very long time. 

There, you would belong. 

“Can I go in?”

“You can. Before you do, there is one more thing.”

__________________________________

“I’m letting you out of the deal.”

You feel your heart stop in your chest at his words, then tears spring to your eyes. You shake your head and pull back, not missing the way he reluctantly lets go of you. 

“No.”

“What?” His brows scrunch and he takes a step towards you as you move back even more, wincing at the pain when you walk. 

“I don’t want out-”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” He snaps, “Because you can’t stop thinking about him. Just stop for a moment and think!!”

You shake your head but he steps closer, an angry yet desperate look on his face. 

“If you refuse me now, I won’t give you another chance.”

“I know.”

“Are you fucking insane?” He looks at you in disbelief, “Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into by agreeing to this?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you so in love with him?! Why can’t you see what’s happening?” His eyes are wild with rage, “You are damning yourself to He-”

“What if I stay?”

You see the look of shock flash over his face as he takes a step back, going from one hundred to zero in a millisecond.

“You-...what?”

You swallow, feeling very small and unsure right now. 

“You want me to stay, don’t you?”

The demon blinks a few times. 

If you stay, it will be horrendous for you. It will be painful and wretched and nothing will ever make it better. But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t tell you that. 

He’s selfish. 

And he wants you to stay, no matter what it might do to you. 

If you go through all of this just for some idiot mortal boy, he wants no part of it. But if you stay for him…

If one thing is true, it is that misery so very much loves company. 

You see one of his black brows raise slightly, as if you’ve gotten his attention. 

Taking a deep breath, you stay strong. 

Although it was a rash decision to use those words driven by exhaustion and panic, you knew you could buy time, that he would take it, that he would consider it.

What else could you expect from a demon?

“You don’t want him anymore?”

The way he says ‘him’ is bitter. Jealousy and rage crammed into that one small word.

You eye him carefully, “We still need to go through with the deal. We don’t stop here.”

He glares at you, “Why.”

“I came here to get something. I want to finish what I started. I won’t just toss it all out the window now.”

JK grinds his teeth for a moment, trying not to get angry. 

“Fine,” he eventually spits, “You’ll get the Flame, if that’s what you’re so fucking obsessed with.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, voice breaking a little. 

He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh, “Your stupid little friend apparently doesn’t have a lot of time to become immortal. Let’s just keep going.”

You nod, following as he starts off. Almost immediately, you notice him slowing to keep pace with you as you limp slowly. He doesn’t talk much at first and you get the sense that he’s embarrassed for exposing himself like he did. The fact that he wants you to stay, no matter how selfish the intentions are…it means there’s something there.

Not long after walking again, though, he starts to talk. 

“Why ‘Apple’?”

“I like apples.”

“Oh.”

Only a second passes before the next question. 

“What made you decide to wear a dress? It’s not a very practical decision when one is planning to get the Flame of Immortality from the center of Hell.”

“I like dresses,” your voice cracks a little and you swallow, rubbing your throat with your hand gently. 

He rolls his eyes. 

“Well…is white your favorite color to wear then? Or brown…?”

You look sideways at him suspiciously but answer slowly anyway, “Umm…they’re some of my favorites, yeah.”

“What are your other favorites-”

He stops speaking and comes to a halt when you turn to him, badly scraped hands moving to your hips. 

“Why are you asking me all these-...innocent questions?”

“What? You’d rather I ask something else?” He snaps, handsome face set in an annoyed scowl.

“Well, no-”

“Are you a virgin?”

You take a step back, looking at him with an appalled expression. 

He only smirks. 

“You got pissy when I asked questions I thought suited you. Figured I’d try something different.”

“Yellow and pink…and blue.”

You ignore the confusion written all over his face as you walk around him and keep hobbling along. 

The sores on your hands and feet are extremely irritated and sore, the ones in your mouth a little less so. There’s still dried blood on the corners of your mouth and your bones ache so deeply you could curl into a ball on the ground and be fine with never moving again. The pain in your stomach lingers, but is nothing compared to when you were in the eighth circle. You still refuse to look at the wound on your right ankle from when the old man covered in flames grabbed you. It’s painful enough without getting a mental picture that will probably make it worse.

Overall, everything hurts. Your body continues to grow weaker simply being in Hell, steadily shutting down by the hour. 

But you can certainly manage. 

You have to. 

“What the hell does that even mean?”

You bite your tongue as he jogs over to keep in step with you again.

“You asked what my favorite colors are to wear.”

He groans loudly next to you, “I don’t know why I keep forgetting how fucking annoying you are.”

“Aw, that’s sweet, JK.”

“Shuddup.”

You chuckle quietly, gnawing gently on your tender bottom lip as you keep your eyes forward, a million thoughts swarming your brain. 

“What’s your favorite color to wear?” You ask as you glance at him teasingly, “Black? How original.”

He sneers at you, “Wow, you’re so fucking funny. You should be a comedian.”

“I might just do that.”

“What do you do, anyway?” He slows down a little more to stay alongside you after unconsciously walking faster. He can’t help it, with legs as long as his it’s second nature, “You said you’re nineteen. School? Work?”

“Mm, neither.”

“Neither?”

“Well, work I guess.”

“You guess.”

“Mhm,” You pick at the blood under your fingernails. 

“Care to elaborate?” 

He sounds annoyed with needing to ask for further details. 

“No, not really.”

He bites his tongue before he gets the chance to snap at you. 

“Ok, fine,” He says slowly, controlled, “You kind of work.”

You hide the smile creeping up on you. 

“So you’ve never really had any hopes for the future?”

“I didn’t say that,” You correct him calmly. 

“Well you sure as hell aren’t convincing me otherwise.”

You look at him as you walk, “Why should I need to convince anyone but myself?”

“I-” He stares at you for a second, “Never mind.”

It’s not even quiet for thirty seconds before his next wave of probing comes.

“Why apples, though? Pears are better than apples.”

A lump forms in your throat and you have to mentally push the memories out of your mind. Memories of him always preferring pears over any fruit. 

“Because Pear would be a stupid name.”

He chuckles, taking you by surprise. 

“Well,” You hum, “Pear is actually pretty cute now that I think about it.”

“Whatever you say, mortal.”

“It’s Apple.”

“I’m not calling you Apple.”

“Well then I’ll just call you Pear-”

“You absolutely will not.”

You scowl at him. 

“I’ll do whatever I want.”

“Yeah?” He snags your arm, making you stop and pulling you to him at the same time, a dangerously flirty smirk on his face, “Is that supposed to scare me, Apple?”

Your heart lurches and your mouth feels dry.

He leans closer, “Go ahead and do what you want, I’ve nothing against that.”

You try to scoff but it doesn’t come out very strong so it kind of just sounds like you choke. 

“I-I…I-”

“Y-y-you what?” The smirk is still on his face, mischief lighting up his dark eyes. 

You try your best to glare at him, but it doesn’t seem to deter him at all. 

He just leans in again, “If you stay,” his lips are close to your ear as cold breath sends tingles down your spine, “We could cause all sorts of trouble, Apple girl.”

You’re beginning to second guess your judgment of telling him that name.

It’s not the same as him saying it. It hurts a lot more than when he said it. It’s his voice, his face, his eyes that look into yours as it’s whispered. 

But it’s not the same. 

It used to be filled with so much love. 

Now it’s tainted with a shadowy wickedness whispering behind it. But after not hearing it from his lips for five hundred years, it still makes your heart race. 

“I get the impression you cause enough trouble on your own,” you whisper, pulling back and looking at him. 

“You’d be right,” he chuckles darkly, also pulling away. 

Your eyes fall away from his piercing gaze, looking over his shoulder. 

He snaps out of the trance he was in as he looked at you when you point over his shoulder and ask, “What’s that?”

JK turns to see a gnarled mountain in the distance that’s smaller than the others, right in the middle of the barren wasteland; the bottom thick and the top coming to a sharp point. 

“Ah,” he tilts his head and stretches his neck both ways, “You’ll see later.”

You give him a look but don’t bother responding. 

It feels like you can finally breathe when he steps away.You don’t understand how he can so easily flit from one emotion to the next. He’s acting like he didn’t just bare his entire soul to you when he offered to let you go not even that long ago. 

“You never answered my question,” He says as he starts to walk, once again matching your speed, or lack thereof. 

“Which one?”

“I think you know which one.”

Your cheeks heat involuntarily and you clear your throat. 

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s none of your business!”

“I think you’re embarrassed.”

“And why would I be?” You ask. 

“Because you’re definitely a virgin.”

You scoff loudly, “If I am or I’m not, neither of them would make me embarrassed. I have no reason to be ashamed either way.”

“That’s exactly what a virgin would say.”

“Shut up!” You grumble, “If you want to know so bad then you have to answer a question of mine.”

“Fire away.”

“Just like that?” You look at him in disbelief, “After all this time and all the trouble you’ve given me, you’ll answer anything just to know if I’m a virgin?”

He shrugs, “I’m curious.”

You mutter in annoyance to yourself for a moment, then you look at him. 

“What’s with the tattoos? Why are two colored and the rest not?”

“I don’t know.”

“I-” You glare fiercely at him, “Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

You stop walking, which makes him stop to look at you. 

“So, let me get this straight,” You say calmly, scratched up and bruised hands folded nicely in front of you, “It has been however long…I have answered many of your questions, and you have avoided almost every single one of mine.”

“And?”

“And you acted like it was some huge deal that you would only tell me in exchange for something equally as big, and yet you don’t even know the answer yourself.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

You wouldn’t be surprised if he could see steam billowing out from your ears. 

“You’re so- so exasperating!!”

He laughs at the fact that that’s the best insult you could come up with in your state of enraged shock. 

“Technically I never said I knew.”

“Agh!” You throw your hands up in the air before pointing a finger in his face and standing up on your tiptoes to get closer, “I’m never telling you if I’m a virgin or not! Never!” Then you hurry around him and start marching away. You hear him laughing behind you, then the sound of him running to catch up with you. 

“You’re so naive.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

He grins annoyingly, shaking his head, “Such a grouch.”

“I’ll show you a grouch in a minute if you don’t let me calm down.”

He puts his hands up in defense, “Damn, ok.”

Your face feels hot with anger, your cheeks undoubtedly red with the blood that’s rushed there. 

Cool air would be nice right about now, but that’s a joke to even think about. Fanning with your hands does absolutely nothing. In fact, it might be making it worse. 

You drop your hands to your side and sigh. 

It’s no use being so angry. Him not knowing is technically an answer in itself. That’s what you wanted to know anyway, with several things. 

Back when you first got here, he spoke as if he was a demon since the fall of the angels, that he was one of them, that he chose it. 

Clearly his memories are not only gone, but corrupted into a false story that he believes is true though there are gaps in it that confuse even him. Like the fire, and the tattoos, and probably several other things; like the handkerchief in his pocket that he gave you when your eyes were burning. The one that looked like his mother’s…

She used to carry soft cream-colored ones around everywhere, and gave some to him. 

That’s what he used to bandage your ankle when you were young.

What would his answer be if you asked him about that handkerchief?

You gulp.

He’s confused when you ask certain questions like that, you can tell. And confusion is the first step, as long as the timing is right.

Your breathing has calmed considerably and the anger has dissipated when he speaks up again. 

“Are you calm now?”

“Yes,” you laugh quietly. 

“You can have another go, if it’s made you that upset.”

“You must seriously want to know if I’ve done it, nothing ever makes you this generous…I’m not upset anymore, I do have a question though, that I’d like to be answered.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’ll answer yours first.”

“Ok.”

You nibble your bottom lip, your cheeks flushing for a reason entirely different from anger now. 

“I’m not a virgin.”

“Oh...wow.”

You turn your head to see that he looks genuinely surprised as he stares at you while you walk. 

“Why does that shock you so much?” You chuckle. 

“It’s just-” He shakes his head, “You’re so pure, it-”

“I’m pure?”

When his eyes lift to yours again, he sees a teasing smile on your face.

“Two questions,” You hold up two fingers. 

He nods, apparently shocked into temporary silence. 

“One: how do you know that I’m pure? And two: who says that not being a virgin would take that away?”

He scoffs, “Isn’t it obvious? I can see your soul, mortal. All demons can see the state of someone’s soul. It’s how they know their weak points, how easy they are to break.”

The demon stops and turns to you then, a look in his eyes that you don’t understand. 

“How valuable they are to them.”

One of your brows lifts, “Ah, I see. And why would I be any less pure without being a virgin?”

“Your innocence would be gone.”

“And?” You look him dead in the eye, “Is my innocence gone?”

The way he stares at you makes you feel exposed, as if he’s peeled away your skin and can see right through you, into the deepest parts of your being. He is quite literally staring into your soul. 

“No,” he whispers, his voice sounding confused at this revelation. 

“Didn’t He make it for the human race as a gift?”

“I mean…I suppose, but-”

“And if I didn’t abuse it, if I used the gift as it was meant to be used, did I not do what He had intended for me?”

The demon swallows, confusion thick in the air as he stares at you, extremely unsure of everything he thought he knew.

“The act itself is not sinful,” you whisper, watching all the emotions flitting across his face as he tries to figure it out, “The intentions and circumstances behind it? They certainly can be.”

He says nothing, thoroughly befuddled in every sense of the word. 

“I think innocence comes in many forms. I am far from perfect, but I do know that I did no wrong when it came to losing my virginity.”

“Oh.” Is all he’s able to come up with. 

After another minute of him working through things in his brain, he clears his throat. 

“So this…this best friend of yours…is he-?”

“Is he the one that I shared myself with?”

He nods, uncertainty still clear on his face. 

How strange it is to be informing him that you are not a virgin when he himself is the only one you had ever been with.

“Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.”

You step closer, eyes not leaving his, “You said demons know when souls are valuable to them.”

He nods, but says nothing. 

“And?” You take another step towards him, as if offering for him to look again, “How valuable is my soul to you?”

“Any demon would stop at nothing to take your soul.”

“I’m not interested in just any demon,” you whisper, “I want to know how valuable it is to you. That’s my question, that’s what I want you to tell me. You didn’t answer me before, when I asked you how you felt.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Not really.”

“I told you,” he grits out as you step ever closer, “I can’t.”

“If I am so valuable to Hell’s collection of souls, how could you offer to free me? How valuable can I possibly be if you’re willing to let me keep my soul?”

JK gulps, pursing his lips. 

“How can a demon let go of a soul that any other would stop at nothing to take?” You whisper, eyes searching his, pushing just a little more. 

“Stop.”

“You said you would answer me.”

His eyes fall from yours. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why did you offer to let me leave?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” he hisses, “You refused, and I told you, I will not offer it again.”

“Then why offer it in the first place?”

You gulp when his eyes raise to yours again, anger and something else there, something you’ve seen flash through them before, but very rarely.

You realize with a jolt to your heart what it is. 

Sorrow.

“You want to know how valuable your soul is to me?” He glares at you, stepping closer until you can feel his cold breath on your cheeks, “I would do anything to rip it straight out of you. Anything.”

You blink rapidly, holding back the tears that are threatening to come. 

“I would risk losing hundreds of other souls just to have this one.”

A cold finger runs along your chest, stopping right in the middle and not moving.

“How valuable are you to me…?” A painful ache surges through you at his slight change of words 

“So valuable-” His voice drops below a whisper, “That I would’ve let.. you.. go..”

Your heart is hammering in your chest and you know he can feel it. 

“JK…”

You don’t finish your sentence and he says nothing to fill the quiet. That’s when something else hits you. 

Tears spring to your eyes at the realization. 

“You-...” 

His eyes stay locked on yours. 

“You kept talking earlier, asking silly things,” you mumble tearfully, sniffling, “Because you knew I didn’t like it to be quiet.”

His following silence is answer enough. 

“I can’t,” is all he says after a minute. 

You nod slowly, his previous words floating through your mind. 

‘I can’t…love you.’

He can’t love you, but he can let you go; that’s all he knows how to do.

You bite your bottom lip harshly, the stinging pain a welcome distraction from the one on the inside. After a moment to gather yourself, you nod again, not looking directly at him as he watches you with a look so unlike this version of him you don’t think you can handle it. 

Then you raise yourself up, just enough to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. 

As you’re lowering yourself back down, you stop at the feeling of his hand on your cheek, though you keep your eyes downcast.

I’m sorry, Jungkook. 

That you had to be alone for so long, that you had to wait for me, until I could come to you. 

I am so sorry.

“Hey.”

You finally look at him at the light tone of his voice.

“We’ll be at the ninth circle before too long, you can’t grow soft on me now,” he smirks gently at you, “What happened to that feisty little attitude of yours, little mortal?”

You swallow the tears building up in your throat, bottling them up and putting a cap on it.

You will not fail, ____. 

Do not doubt yourself so. 

Nodding slowly, you swallow again, biting your lip as hard as you can handle. 

“I think I’m tired,” you croak, dropping your gaze to the ground between you. 

His boots are still sleek and shiny, completely flawless. The laces going up his shins look brand new, not a fray to be seen. The contrast to your beaten and bloody feet wrapped in torn black silk from his shirt is almost comical. 

“Only now?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

You breathe out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, didn’t really hit until now.”

“Ah.”

You rub your eyes, fighting the yawn creeping up on you. 

“Let’s not talk about it,” you mumble, “It’s making me more tired.”

The sound of gravel moving makes you look at him as he turns to keep walking, granting your wish without a single protest. 

“Come on,” he calls out without facing you, “If you fall asleep standing there I’m not carrying you.”

You follow slowly, your brain spinning in circles as you try to stay calm. 

______________________________

“Can I go in?”

“You can. Before you do, there is one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“If you had the choice, would you like to become an angel?”

“I don’t understand,” You stared at the being that brought you to the golden gate in the clouds, brows furrowed in confusion at what they just said, “So…everyone that comes here is an angel…?”

Just like before, you felt her smile, even though you couldn’t see it, “Not everyone, no. The little ones that pass away in the womb become angels,” her voice was still so gentle and deep, it brought a wave of comfort over you just hearing it, “And some that were born and have lived a life worthy of it. Do not worry, everyone else that comes here is joyous regardless.”

‘The little ones that pass away in the womb become angels.’ 

Your heart stuttered in your chest when you thought of the little angel.

Could it really have been…?

Before you could break down into sobs and start begging to see the child, you cleared your throat, knowing the time would come to see her again. “And you…are you an angel?”

“I am.”

“Were you a human once?”

“No,” The voice had a distinct smile in it, “I was always your angel.”

“My angel?” You asked in astonishment.

“Yes.”

“What-” You shook your head to clear it, “What does that mean?”

Instead of getting an answer with words, you suddenly felt a strange pull in your chest. Then the being was gone and you were in your beloved forest, the breeze blowing the leaves gently. You turned this way and that, beyond confused. 

“How-”

You got cut off by the sound of a tiny giggle. Turning in alarm, you froze at the sight of a small child on the ground by the apple tree, her back leaning against it as she played in the grass with her feet.

You, it was you…at four years old…

Taking a step closer to the small version of you, the grass soft beneath your feet, you sucked in a breath when you saw someone else there too, a warm smile on their face as they watched you laugh. 

It was a woman who looked no older than twenty-five, but with an ancient wisdom in her emerald green eyes. She wore a dress of dark green that matched the deepest parts of the forest. Over it were thin plates of armor, a slender sword with a verdant hilt at her side. On her back were large wings that looked like a bird’s; the color of a sunlit field. One of the wings was wrapping around your small figure protectively.

Her hair was blonde, but looked to have hints of leaf green in it as well. 

The angel’s beauty was unmatched; you had never even imagined someone could be so utterly breathtaking. She truly looked like an otherworldly being that had come from the forest itself. 

There was a soft green glow about her as she placed a gentle hand on your head right after a bright red apple had bonked it harshly.

Her head turned at the same moment as your tiny one, looking at the fruit laying on the ground. 

As little you stared at it in bewilderment, the angel looked up and a smile graced her elegant features.

You watched yourself reach for the apple, then you noticed the woman looking up into the tree and laughing delightedly. So, you looked up to see what she was watching. 

Heart flying to your throat, you took a step back when you saw him. 

The small boy with dark hair and eyes that were wide as he looked down at the child he accidentally dropped an apple on. He scrambled down the tree quickly to apologize. 

All of the figures began to shimmer before disappearing, despite your sudden cry for them not to go. 

You gulped and pressed a hand to your forehead as another scene unfolded in front of you. 

The river was there, just ahead. Cold water rushed by, higher than it usually was. After only a moment, you realized what day you were looking back on. Seconds later, you saw two children running over to the river and laughing. 

The little girl said something you couldn’t hear as the boy bent down to pick up a pretty rock. In the next instant, the girl ran into the water. It was swift as it took her off her feet immediately. 

The boy looked up, then dropped the rock and leapt into the water to save the younger child. 

You watched in horror as he screamed for her, swimming as best as he could. 

But his arms were too small and the current was too strong. 

You couldn’t even see the girl anymore, she was gone, dragged under the surface. 

Then you saw the woman again. 

She was on the riverbank, tall and beautiful as always. She reached a hand down into the river and grabbed hold of something before pulling it up effortlessly. 

You saw your own little hand come out of the water as she pulled you out, then your head broke the surface. You gasped and looked around before seeing your best friend holding on to the rose bush. 

It was her…

That was the only thought in your head as the scene changed yet again.

You were back in the forest, by the apple tree. This time, you were watching yourself at fifteen as you cried your heart out after finding out that you were to marry Hoseok and your mother had hurled horrid insults at you. 

“Why me?!” You heard yourself scream at the top of your lungs into the grass, throat burning and heart pounding painfully in your ears.

The angel was there on the ground beside you, bent over in order to have an arm and a wing around you in a warm embrace. You noticed with a hitch in your breath that she was crying too, crystal tears dripping down her porcelain skin and falling to the forest floor as she stroked your hair ever so gently. 

She was whispering words of encouragement and reassurance in your ear even if you couldn’t hear it at the time. 

Once again, the two figures weeping on the forest floor shimmered and disappeared. They were replaced with quick flashes of your life running across your vision, the angel always there; a warm proud smile on her face when you were kind or shining tears drenching her cheeks as you lay sobbing in your mother-in-law’s house after losing your child. 

Then it was all gone. 

You were once again surrounded by white clouds, the giant golden gate looming in front of you. 

But this time, the being was no longer hidden from your view. 

The woman from the visions stood in front of you, a soft knowing smile on her pretty lips. 

If possible, she looked even more magnificent than in the memories. 

She was twice your height, dressed in that beautiful green gown, the armor shining brilliantly and the sword safe at her side. 

You gawked wordlessly at the huge wings behind her. 

“Y-”

You gulped, shocked into speechlessness. 

Her smile grew warmer at the look on your face. 

Finally, you found the words. 

“The invisible person,” you breathed, “That was you?”

Her head dipped slightly in confirmation. 

All the times you ever felt scared, felt unsafe in any way, all the nights you couldn’t sleep thinking of the ghost in the forest…all of it seemed so silly then. With the angelic warrior walking beside you during every step in life, nothing was ever going to hurt you.

You blinked owlishly. “You…how are you my angel?” Was all you could think to say.

Her laughter was like waves crashing against the golden shore. 

“There are many different angels. I am a guardian and I was tasked with keeping watch over you. Guardians have always been angels, from the beginning of time.”

“But…why me?”

“Everyone has a guardian angel,” she explained softly, “Most of them don’t know it until the end. When the Creator made me, He showed me some of your life. He asked me if I would love and protect you. I said yes. Until you were conceived, I simply waited.”

Your heart burst in your chest. 

The angel’s first choice…was to love you?

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. 

“Why don’t some people ever know of their angel until they die?” You whispered sadly. 

She leaned down, blonde locks tinted with green falling over her shoulders. 

“There are many forces at work in the world, ____. So very many of them with wicked intentions and a desire to wreak havoc and despair. They try their best to be the loudest. Sin is attractive, until you see its truest form.”

You gulped, “I didn’t know of you though, yet I still felt you there. Do others not?”

Your angel nodded sadly.

“Why?”

The look in her eyes was so vivid, it felt as though you were looking through each and every moment in history, every little thing she ever saw…Your heart ached deeply in your chest at her next words. 

“Because mankind is lost,” she whispered lowly, “And has very much forgotten how to listen.”

_____________________________________________

The exhaustion is heavy on your shoulders. 

Your eyelids feel like they’re being weighed down with hundred pound weights. But still you walk, dragging one foot after another, again and again. Steps eventually turn into miles. The scenery never changes. 

JK walks beside you, but neither of you speaks very much. Every once in a while, you’ll mention something about how long this stretch is and how hot it is, and he’ll mumble an agreement. 

It’s maddening that you can’t keep him in a certain state for long. He was opening up, he was softening even if just a little. The second the moment passes though, he clams right back up. 

It happened when he offered to let you go, it happened when you spoke by the fire, it happened when you asked him about the value of your soul to him. 

It has happened multiple times. 

And yet each time it passes, he is no sooner retreating into his shell and pretending like it never happened in the first place. 

The only thing keeping your spirits up at this point, is reminding yourself that if it wasn’t getting anywhere, he wouldn’t have softened even for a moment. 

None of this is futile. 

It is slow and it is painful. 

But it is not futile. 

Your stomach turns when you suddenly remember the voice. 

The one that came back when you saw JK’s true form, that mocked him and delighted in his agony. It said something. 

“This is my territory, little angel…you get out.”

He knows you’re here, and that you are not a mere mortal. 

A sickening pit forms in your stomach. You don’t know what will come of it. But one thing is for sure; you have even less time than you thought. 

“Back at the shed.”

You jump a little at the sound of his voice, but recover quickly and look at him as you continue to make your slow trek towards the oddly shaped mountain all alone in the middle of the wasteland. 

“Hm?”

You watch him as he stares into the distance ahead, a small frown on his face. 

“You said it was my fault.”

“Huh?” Your voice is weak. 

You know exactly what he’s referring to, but you need time to think of an excuse. 

“When you were losing your shit,” he speaks calmly, not a hint of anything but curiosity in his tone, “You said that it was all my fault.”

“W-Well, yeah,” you try to scoff, but it still shows the anxiety consuming you, “I was delirious from exhaustion and not to mention the unbearable heat. I mean come on, out here is bad enough, but in that circle-”

“Stop lying.”

You gulp, glancing at him briefly as you try not to stop the rhythm of your walk. 

“I was exhausted and overheated,” you mumble quietly. 

Technically you were, so that isn’t really a lie. 

He sighs, “I suppose I brought this upon myself.”

“What?”

“I should’ve known that sooner or later you would refuse to answer my questions as I have yours,” he shakes his head, an annoyed smile on his face. 

“I mean,” you laugh lightly, “It took me long enough to stop offering answers so freely.”

“Why did you? Before.”

“I don’t know,” you say softly, staring at a black cloud in the sky, “I think maybe I wanted to tell you, as unwise as it seemed at times.”

He doesn’t answer, but he does look at you closely as you walk. 

“Have you never felt that way?” You whisper, still not looking away from that little cloud up there in the bloodstained sky, “Have you never felt so burdened with secrets and struggles that you felt such an urge to just let it out? To let it out to whoever gave you that chance, even if you knew that they would hurt you in the end…”

He blinks slowly, “That sounds like a burdensome way to live.”

“Oh it is,” you say softly as you drag your eyes away from the cloud and over to him. 

“That’s why you offered things up so freely. Why you kept wanting to exchange information.”

“I suppose that’s one reason.” A sad laugh huffs from your lips. 

“What’re the other reasons?”

“There you go again,” you look at him with a playful glare, “Tempting me to say all my secrets, just for a second of fresh air to breathe because I won’t be the only one holding them.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Oh? And what are you doing, demon?”

He feels a strange unpleasant thud in his chest when you call him that. You’d been calling him by his name for so long now he had gotten almost used to it. 

When he looks at you, he can see something different in your eyes. Something subtle but calculating. It’s a very careful look as you watch him, as if waiting to see what he’ll do, waiting to see the reaction you’ll get from him.

You know something that he doesn’t. 

A foreign chill runs down his spine, startling him. You are a lot smarter than he’s given you credit for. A split second passes where he’s full of an uncomfortable thought that perhaps he’s never had the upper hand. 

Perhaps everything has been on your terms. 

A pit forms in his stomach when you begin to look different. Your hair doesn’t appear quite as tangled, nor does it look dirty. It tumbles down your shoulders in soft waves. The dress and cardigan you wear are not torn or messy with mud and other unsavory things.

As he stares into your eyes, there’s a very subtle color change in them. As if someone was standing behind him and flashed a bright golden light into your eyes for only a second. 

Then it all fades away and he sees just you looking at him expectantly. 

Just messy little you.

You look the same as you always have, only just a little confused now at his long stretch of silence. You don’t seem aware at all that he was quite literally seeing you in a different light momentarily. 

“JK?” Your voice is soft, “Are you okay?”

“What?” He chokes out, voice thick with confusion and maybe just a little fear.

“You look like you just saw a ghost,” you giggle at the silly term down here and with a demon no less.

“Why did you call me that?”

“Huh?” You step closer, confused by his question. 

“Why did you call me demon?”

“Did I?” Your brows furrow and you cock your head to the side, “I don’t think I did, though.”

“You did,” his voice comes out harsher than he intended.

“Oh,” you watch him closely, bewildered at his behavior, “Well, I’m sorry if I did. I wouldn’t have thought you’d mind if I did anyway, though.”

“I-” JK clears his throat, “I don’t. It just confused me for a second.”

“Oh…okay.”

Awkward silence falls between you two, then you nod slowly and turn to keep walking. 

You’re not sure what just happened, but whatever it was, it rattled him quite a bit. 

It takes a moment before you hear him start walking behind you. 

“I shared because I thought you might share as well,” you call to him, “Nothing about you makes sense. You know that, right?”

“You’re the one that doesn’t make sense,” he scoffs, but jogs to catch up to you anyway. 

“Look at us,” you gesture your arms out weakly, “What a pair we make. Nothing about us makes sense!”

He chuckles as you smile.

“Speak for yourself,” he nudges you in the arm as you walk, which makes you smile harder. 

Maybe you can get that shell to crack again after all. 

-

It took less time than you thought it would to get to the lone mountain. You look at it in confusion, head tilted back to see as high up as you can. “That took forever…it looked further away,” you mumble. 

“When are you going to learn that nothing here is made to make sense?” JK looks up at it alongside you, “If it makes sense, you’re comfortable. You’re not supposed to be comfortable here.”

You turn to him, “Since you’re being somewhat honest right now, I’ve been curious about something for a long while.”

“Mm?” He doesn’t seem to be paying attention to you, his gaze directed towards the bent and twisted vines that cover the small mountain, all the way up to the top. 

You two are around a hundred feet away, but you can see the dead climbing plants clearly. Part of you wonders if those are also snakes, like the ones at the entrance to the fourth circle. 

The memory of that feels so old, like you had given your shoes up and had been walking on bare feet through Hell for years. It makes you feel strange, and unsettlingly confused. 

“When I first got here,” you speak a little louder, relieved when he turns to you, “There was something I noticed that you did.”

“And what was that?” He whispers, subtle mischief reflecting in his dark eyes. 

“Before we even got to the entrance, when we first spoke,” you keep your eyes on his face, watching for a hint of anything other than the bored expression now painting it, “You referred to it as the Underworld. Only after we passed through the gate-...”

There it is. 

You see a flicker of something in his gaze. Swallowing thickly, you quietly finish what you were saying. 

“Only after we passed through the gate did you call it Hell.”

You’re surprised to see a smirk spread on his face. 

“Here I thought you were too daft to catch on to that, and yet you knew the whole time. I’m surprised, little mortal.”

You look indignant at that, but he doesn’t stop. 

“Most humans don’t catch it consciously. Only in their subconscious do they realize how much more uncomfortable it feels to hear the word Hell.”

He whispers that last word as he leans closer, as if the term itself is dirty and he finds pleasure in seeing you squirm because of it. 

You gulp but hold your ground as he moves even closer. 

“I won’t tell you,” he whispers. 

You’re about to protest but he startles you by placing a cold finger to your lips, effectively shutting you up. 

“I won’t tell you,” he says again, staring into your eyes, “Because you’re a smart girl.”

Grinding your teeth, you force yourself not to pay any attention to the feeling in your lower stomach. 

“Aren’t you, Apple?” He asks innocently, the look in his eyes showing the true delight he feels making you twitch, “Tell me that you’re a smart girl.”

One of your brows raises and you purse your lips. 

He’s really pushing it, and he knows that. 

“I also have dignity,” you whisper back. 

If anything his smirk grows.He finds it amusing when you snap back at him. 

“You didn’t say Hell because you wanted to be sure I’d follow you,” you keep eye contact with him, “Make it sound less than it is until it’s too late, right? Underworld sounds far less intimidating, less of a chance for the turning back of a potential soul for you to steal.”

“I don’t steal anything,” he hisses, “I told you that.” 

The staredown lasts another ten seconds before he speaks again, voice a bit strained from trying to reign in his irritation at your accusation. 

“See? I knew you were smarter than you let on. Why bother asking all these silly little questions if you already know the answer to them?”

“I wanted you to confirm it.”

“And?” He seems to have gathered himself again, “Has it been confirmed enough for you?”

One of his black brows raises as he clenches his jaw. 

“Yes.”

“Good. Now, can we move on, or would you like to stand here and spew more nonsense?”

You shake your head, eyes drifting back over to the gnarled mountain. 

“We can go.”

“Splendid.”

The demon turns on his heel and all but marches angrily towards your next destination. 

You sigh, then do your best to pick up your pace in order to keep up with him. 

“Does it annoy you that I talk a lot and ask questions that seem useless to you, or does it annoy you that I know more than those you typically deal with?”

“Both, little mortal,” he snaps, “Fucking both.”

You stumble to a stop and wince when he halts suddenly, looking up at the looming form of nature in front of you. 

A pit forms in your tummy when you see the vines ever so slightly writhe under your careful observation. 

Great. More snakes. 

A shaky sigh leaves your mouth, “Is this the ninth circle?”

“No.”

“Oh…what is it?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” JK mumbles, then turns to walk away, “We need to go around it, not through it.”

“Wait!” You call out before he can get too far, relieved when he stops. He says nothing though, just stands there. 

“I-” You clear your throat, “I think we should go in.”

“Why?” He scoffs, turning to look at you with an irritated glare. 

“I don’t know,” your voice breaks, betraying you, “I’m…curious?”

“You’re curious?”

You nod.

He stares at you in disbelief. 

“Are you fucking serious?”

When you don’t say anything, he turns the rest of his body, hip tilted and arms crossing over his chest, biceps bulging slightly at the action. 

“You’re telling me that you want to waste more time by looking inside of a useless fucking mountain?” His glare narrows even more, “We’re almost to the ninth circle. It isn’t far from there that your stupid Flame is waiting. Why do you suddenly have time to tour every fucking corner of Hell?”

You glance back at the mountain helplessly; you have to get in there. It might be exactly what you need. 

“Aren’t we just wasting more time standing here arguing?” You ask breathlessly, anxiety clear in your shaking voice, “Just- show me what’s inside and we can keep going-”

“Fine,” he growls, stomping over and grabbing one of the vines. 

You audibly gasp as he grips it harshly, ignoring the loud hissing before he tears it from the handle of a wooden door. The demon tosses it carelessly to the ground, where it slowly slithers away. You hadn’t even seen the door there, you’re absolutely sure it was only rock just moments before. 

The hissing grows louder and you step back, watching in disgust as the vines wriggle and slither off of the door that becomes ever more visible the more they flee. Soon enough, the ancient mahogany door is clear of the snake vines. JK grabs the handle and yanks it open. Dust falls from around the doorway. 

You stare wordlessly into the dark tunnel it uncovered, a lump forming in your throat. 

“Why-” you gulp, “I-...H-has no one come in here for a while?”

The demon scoffs quietly in annoyance. 

“There are other entrances. I guess no one’s bothered to use this one for a couple hundred years.”

“Couple hundred years?” You echo quietly, staring into the void.

“Well,” he sighs and leans against the doorframe made of stone, “Ladies first.”

You glance at him to see a stupidly handsome smirk on his face. 

He’s far too aware of the fact that you don’t even break a small smile at his words, all you do is blink a few times before looking into the dark mountainside. 

Then you walk inside and are soon engulfed in blackness.

__________________________________________

“Because mankind is lost,” she whispered lowly, “And has very much forgotten how to listen.”

A few tears fell down your cheeks and you brushed them away with the tips of your fingers. 

“Is there nothing to be done for them?”

“There is much.”

She smiled as she stood straight again and looked down at you tenderly. 

“What?” You whispered brokenly, “What can you angels do against such wickedness?” 

“We are stronger than any darkness, child. But we cannot force humans to choose, they have free will to do as they wish. So we can listen when they are broken, and we can bring them hope. There is a war going on, one that most mortals cannot see. Humans are much more important than they know, for they are constantly being fought over.”

You stared at her with wide shiny eyes.

“We will continue to fight for them, despite their blindness to our existence. Above all else, ____, hope is the most powerful weapon against evil. No human is born wicked, wickedness is made. As angels, dear child, we will fight for Him and his creations until the end. With the Father leading our armies, we will always be faithful, and we will always be strong.”

“And what about me?” You wiped your damp cheeks again, “Earlier, you asked if I would like to be an angel. Could I bring that to humans? Could I help them?” 

One of those proud smiles grew on her face. 

“Yes.”

“...how did I live a life worthy of that choice?”

“Would you like to see?”

After a moment, you nodded slowly. 

Once again, there was a bright light around you, closing in until you could see nothing else. 

Then you were in a small room. You immediately recognized it as your childhood house. You were in the room where your mother prepared meals. 

It was as if you were a fly on the wall, watching the scene from your past unfold in front of you. 

Mother was there. 

A lump formed in your throat at the sight of her. She was saying something to six-year-old you, who was sitting on an old rickety stool close to the ground and peeling something carefully. 

You couldn’t see what it was, but you were unable to move from your spot in the corner to try and look. 

“Mother.”

The tiny voice came from the child you. “What is it now, ____?”

Mother sounded irritated. You furrowed your brows as you watched. 

Why was she so upset? 

Tiny you smiled to yourself as you continued to peel what was in your hands, “There was a boy today that I saw.”

“Who? Jungkook?”

You giggled, “No. He was smaller than Jungkook…but he said he was nine!”

You got no reply. 

“Mother, he said he was eight, but how could he be so very small? How?”

“____,” she snapped, “I’m busy, can’t you hold it in until Yoongi comes? Talk his ear off instead of mine.”

You didn’t seem hurt by the comment, only nodded, “Ok.” Then you went back to your peeling.

Mother sighed loudly, “He was probably one of the kids from the village over. They always come crawling in here and start begging for scraps.”

“Scraps?”

“What? You think you’re hungry, child?” She sneered, “There are others out there hungrier than you. Be grateful for what you have, you hear me? That kid is probably so hungry he hasn’t grown. Probably isn’t much use at home.”

Standing in the corner, your eyes widened in shock as you placed a hand on your heart. 

How could she say something so horrible?

Little you immediately burst into tears, startling you. 

“Quiet down, ____! Why must you cry so much?”

“Oh Mo-mother!” You sniffled, “Can’t we share some of our food with him, please?”

“Absolutely not!” She hollered, “Why should we pay for his family’s incompetence??”

“But I don’t mind sharing,” you whispered tearfully, bottom lip protruding. 

“Any food going into that boy’s mouth from this house is off your plate,” she snarled, then told you to hush up as she finished her sewing. 

Everything faded away, then you were in a field. The small one behind the Kim’s barn. That boy was there, as little as you remembered. 

A bright smile graced his features as the six year-old you handed him a cloth with food in it. 

Even though it was plenty long ago, you remembered it clearly then. It was one of the many meals you had gathered from your plate and snuck to him. You swallowed thickly as you watched the tiny girl smile as the boy ate every last bit of food. You knew behind that smile, her tummy was growling awfully.

Before you could fully process it, there were suddenly images flashing in front of you, much like when you were watching your guardian angel during your lifetime. 

Images of you running through the forest and singing with the birds…ever so slightly moving your position so that the sun went into your eyes instead of your best friend’s…slipping another piece of bread from your plate and onto Mother’s when she wasn’t paying attention. 

She was talking about how hungry she was that day…

Rescuing bugs and lying on the floor of that sick boy’s room for hours and hours. 

Everything was going by too quickly. It felt like your entire life was playing in front of you, time passing slowly yet quickly at the same time.

All you could see were flashes of a girl hugging trees and speaking to her beloved clouds…offering to sit on a spot on the log after seeing it looked more rough than the other side before Jungkook could notice…struggling to hold the filled pail but saying nothing so that Yoongi wouldn’t need to carry it for you…quickly pulling weeds so your best friend wouldn’t have to do as many…

Such little acts, usually for Jungkook. 

He didn’t notice all those small things and you always made sure to be subtle so it would stay that way. You did it because you loved him, not because you wanted anything in return. 

The last thing you saw was you lying on the ground by the apple tree, looking at the sky through the leaves. 

That was your seventeenth birthday, the one Jungkook missed.

It was also the day you had forgiven your mother. 

The tear sliding down your cheek as you smiled at the white clouds shone brightly before the rest of the image lit up and disappeared. 

You gasped in a breath, unaware of the tears falling down your cheeks as your gaze focused back on the angel in front of you. 

“You know that you were not perfect,” she said gently, “But now you see the difference you made for others without knowing it. The love you always had for every single one of His creations.”

You wiped your eyes. 

“That kind of love for nature and humanity is rare to come by.”

“But-...”

You couldn’t help but drop your head into your hands and weep. You didn’t even know why you were crying, you were just feeling everything so intensely. 

“I know it must seem like a lot.”

The guardian angel’s voice was gentle and full of sympathy. 

“The decision is not meant to burden you. You need not say yes. You will be joyful no matter the choice.”

“I want to,” you sniffled, wiping your messy nose with the back of your hand, “If there’s anything I can do for those still on Earth, I want to. I want to help.”

The look in her eyes when you brought your gaze back to hers, was so full of love and something that you had never seen before. It was almost like…the look of a mother who was proud of you beyond words. 

That must be what it feels like. 

“Can I help him?” Fresh tears pooled in your eyes, “H-how long has it been since I passed? I don’t even know if he knows. Can I help him in any way? Please? Oh, please let me help him.”

The smile slowly slipped off the angel’s face. 

“What?” You caught your breath, “What’s happened?”

“It…It has been three days since you died, ____.”

“Three days?” You breathed in disbelief. 

“Yes.”

“And…Jungkook,” you choke out, “Where is he? Does he know? Is he alright? He must b-”

The look on her face made your stomach drop. You gulped, trying your best to have the courage to ask. 

“Guardian angel…what’s happened?”

______________________________________________

You keep your hands out in front of you as you walk along the hall inside the mountain. 

It doesn’t seem as though light has ever existed walking through here. It feels almost thick with the blackness, like you’re moving through syrup. You know he’s behind you, even though he hasn’t said a single word. His presence is unmistakable. It used to bring a wave of warm comfort over you, back when you were both young. Now, there’s a slight energy in the air when he’s around. The energy itself does not bring you comfort, but knowing he’s not far from you does. Just having him close is more than you’ve been able to have for so long. 

Finally, you see a tiny light in the distance. It looks like a ball of fire, way down at the end of the hall. The closer you get to it, the less it looks like a floating orb and more like a doorway. 

“Wait.”

You freeze at the sound of his whispered warning, so soft you almost didn’t hear it. Not moving a single muscle, you wait with bated breath. It almost makes you jump out of your skin when you feel a cold hand on your waist, the chill seeping into your thin clothes and making you shiver. 

It doesn’t take much prompting for him to move you to the side gently, just enough so that he can squeeze past. A choked breath is stuck in your throat as you feel his body drag against yours. 

Then his touch is gone. 

You can see his silhouette in front of you, framed by the flaming orange doorway that’s only about fifty yards away. Your heart almost stops the next second when you see a few dark figures past the doorless arched entryway into whatever cavern is in the mountain, walking idly by as their voices carry down the hall.

“The Jia girl?” A high pitched snarling voice asks shortly. 

“Yes.”

That voice was deeper, you don’t recognize either of them though, never heard them before.

“She relented quickly,” The higher voice cackled, “Didn’t take much.”

“If you’d gotten me sooner it would’ve taken even less.” 

The third voice that cuts in sends a chill down your spine. You know that one, but you only heard it once. The way he tenses next to you confirms it. 

What was his name…San? Sal?

Something with an S…

Sav. 

That was it, that was the name of the demon that you saw talking to JK. What is he doing here?

“Who cares if it’s already been done?” The first voice sneers, clearly irked.

It sounds like Sav and the whiny voiced demon are about to start arguing when the deep voice cuts in again. 

“Enough!” It growls loudly,, “Sav, have you found him? I thought I told you to figure it out.”

Silence follows, then Sav clears his throat. “The last I saw of him he was in the sixth circle.”

Him? Sixth- sixth circle?

A gasp gets stuck in your throat when it dawns on you. 

“Doing what?”

The menacing sound of the deep voice makes goosebumps go down your arms and legs. 

“How should I know? Probably just fucking around as he usually does.” 

A low chuckle floats down the hall. It’s so low you can feel it in your bones. You have a feeling it wasn’t a good idea for Sav to talk back like that. 

“Tell me Sav, if he’s always so busy fucking around, how does he manage to get almost three times as many souls as you each term?”

Your stomach twists violently. If you don’t get away you’re going to be extremely sick all over the floor. 

A freezing cold hand presses to your mouth as you get pushed into the wall gently, not to restrain you in any way, but to keep you from view. You hadn’t realized the whimper that left your lips after hearing the demon’s words. 

It’s silent outside the hall. It feels like an eternity passes before the low-pitched voice of the demon that seems to be higher in rank growls again, “You asked to be the one to deal punishment. If I don’t see it done by the beginning of next quarter, you will be strapped right next to him.”

The sound of heavy footfalls echoes around, then the loud slam of a door, which makes you jolt in his hold. More silence stretches on. 

Have the others left?

You glance up at JK, a question in your eyes. You can see the tense expression on his face as he stares towards the doorway, a hand still pressed to your mouth. He looks down at you, then slowly shakes his head. There’s just barely enough reddish light to see the way his jaw clenches and eyes squint in thought.

“I told you not to act so high and fuckin mighty- ah!”

A high-pitched yelp cuts off the whiny demon’s comment. 

“If you know what’s good for you, shut the fuck up,” Sav hisses, poison dripping from his tongue. 

Another chorus of footsteps bounces off the walls before the sound of two doors slamming echoes into the hall.

You watch him close his eyes slowly before he swallows and pulls the hand from your mouth. Tears form as much as you try to fight them. 

What were they saying? Why would he be in trouble? They said it themselves, he gets more souls than most of them. 

That reminder makes a wave of nausea wash over you and you put one of your own hands over your mouth to keep from being sick. 

He doesn’t say anything, just starts walking towards the glowing doorway, boots making a loud thunk with each step. It doesn’t seem like he’s worried. The way he walks emits an air of confidence. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have come in here…No. No no no. 

You need to see if this is what you’ve been thinking of, hoping for. 

No sound comes from your bare feet as you hurry down the hall after him, as quiet as a church mouse. 

-

When you step through the doorway, a small gasp slips from you despite your attempts to keep it in. 

It’s a large circular room. 

The distance from the wall in front of you is almost the length of a tennis court. You saw a few of those on Earth not long before coming here. The entire room looks to be the size of at least two of them but in a rounded form. 

The ceiling is so high you can’t see the top. The sheer vastness of the room is not what made you gasp though. It was the walls covered in glass windows; spanning the entirety of each wall. The windows do not lead to the outside, there is a blood red wall behind each of them. 

Inside, trapped between the wall and the glass, are thousands of darkened souls. 

You know if they were not here, they would be shining with a light that could not be extinguished. 

They would look like stars, only the size of your palm. 

These souls do not look like stars; they are black and shriveled as they hover in their designated place. 

Your shaking hands move over your mouth to keep in the horrified scream that wants so badly to come crawling out. The sound of your knees cracking on the cold marble floor echoes around the huge previously silent room.

JK turns from looking over the ones nearest to him to see you on the floor, torn hands shaking as they stay clamped over your mouth. Tears are streaming down your face as you look around the ever growing collection of tainted humanity. 

“Is this place…?” You finally whisper shakily, horror-struck.

“The Chamber of Souls,” JK responds quietly. Despite that, his voice echoes, feeling like it’s everywhere and closing in on you. 

The walls feel like they're moving inwards, hellbent on squishing you until you can’t breathe. 

Your head feels like it’s spinning as you close your eyes and pray fervently in your mind. 

It’s horrible, so horrible. It’s so sickening to look at. 

Your body is already weakening faster than you have time for. Angels were never meant to be in Hell. Seeing something like this, despite it being what you came for, is beyond what you thought you could handle. As an angel, it’s so much worse. 

To see the result of despair and anger and wickedness right in front of you…It is physically painful to be in the vicinity of these souls. 

JK walks over to you slowly, watching you closely as you shake on your knees, eyes diverted to the ground. 

“Why are you so upset?” He whispers coldly, eyes trained on your face when you look up at him. 

“I-...” 

You drop your gaze back to the marble floor, “I wasn’t expecting it.”

He says nothing, and when you look up at him again, his eyes are slightly narrowed as he looks at you. You clear your throat and wipe at your eyes harshly. 

Pull it together, ____. 

Come on now, don’t blow it. 

Not when it’s so close.

“Sorry,” you let out a choked laugh, “I- think I’m just overwhelmed with everything right now.” 

All I need to do is find his. 

I am so so close.

“Are you ready to leave?” He asks, face not showing much emotion. 

“What? No!”

His brows furrow as you scramble to your feet and wipe at your eyes again. 

“Why? The ninth circle is-”

“I wanted to look around in here,” you manage to get out, then turn to walk away from him, ignoring his lingering stare. He’s way too silent for your comfort as you look at the souls grotesquely on display. 

How are you meant to know which one is his? Your mind is spinning in circles as you force yourself not to look at him. 

He hasn’t moved from where he was standing, but you can feel his stare on your back as you walk around the perimeter of the room.

“What’s in here?” You ask when you get to a spot where there is no glass on the wall, but a black wooden door with a rusted gold handle. 

“Exit.” He says bluntly. 

“Oh.”

You make your feet keep walking until you reach another door that looks the same but with a dirtied silver handle. You look at him with a question in your eyes. 

“Exit.”

“Ah,” you can feel your hands beginning to sweat as you scan the wall of souls over and over again, looking for any indication that one is different from another. 

You end up passing him and the hall that you came from as you go for another loop. 

Only this time, there’s a small alcove that you hadn’t noticed before that catches your eye. 

You stop and look into it. In the shadows is another black door that looks a bit more battered than the others. The handle is a deep crimson color. 

A pit settles in your stomach when you realize the scratches on the side of the door look like the result of long nails. As if someone was desperately clawing at the door in an attempt not to let it close. An icy phantom draft sends shivers down your back the longer you stare at the door.

“Step away from there.”

You jump at the sound of his voice, but scurry away from it anyway. 

“Why? What’s in there?” You ask breathlessly, fear making you shake as you stand close to his side. You want to forget the realization you had moments before he said that. 

The realization that the handle was not red, but bronze. That the bronze handle was covered in dark blood.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re leaving,” he says sharply, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards the hall that you came from. 

“Wait!” You cry desperately, eyes frantically scanning the walls again, “Wait, I can’t leave yet!!”

-

“Stop it!!” You scream, fighting him as he drags you down the pitch black hall, never letting up until you’re outside in the blood light of Hell once again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?!” He lets go of you unexpectedly, which makes you trip and fall to your hands and knees before scrambling back up and lunging for the entrance again. 

But the demon grabs you before you can go back in. 

“Let me go! Let!! Go!!” You screech as you try to fight him off, kicking and hitting as hard as you can. 

But you don’t stand a chance as he yanks you away and pushes you just hard enough so that you stumble and need to catch your balance. When you turn back he’s standing between you and the doorway. 

“Stop it!” He roars before you get the chance to dodge around him. 

You freeze for a moment, then fall to your bottom on the muddy ground in front of him, sobs ripping from your throat, tears leaving wide streaks on your dirty cheeks.

You can’t stop crying, it just keeps coming; salty droplets pouring down your face as your body shakes with heavy gut-wrenching sobs. He watches you grab at your tangled hair and scream.

Everything is ruined, you don’t know what to do anymore. 

That was your one chance and you blew it. This whole thing was your only chance…and you blew it. 

“I’m so sorry,” you can barely get the words out as you cry helplessly, nose running even as you try to wipe it, only succeeding in smearing more dirt around on your face, “I’m so sorry!!”

“Why are you sorry?” He snaps, not having a single clue as to what the hell is happening to you right now.

“I failed,” you whimper tearfully as more tears spill out, “I wasn’t strong enough, or smart enough.”

____.

____, do not give up.

Please, listen to me-

“It’s too late!” You scream as you slap the ground before bursting into another round of uncontrollable sobbing, “Don’t you get it?! I lost! I failed!”

You only begin to settle when you see that he’s come closer and is looking down at you without anger, without anything but confusion on his pretty face. 

“Hey.” He calls to get your attention, sending the most painful pang into your heart as you look up at him, bottom lip trembling. 

Not even on your deathbed did you look such a mess.

“You can finish this,” he says, “The ninth circle is right there. You can make it to the Flame.”

A few straggling tears fall down your cheeks. 

“I never wanted the Flame,” you hear yourself saying miserably.

His head cocks to the side as his brows furrow. 

“What do you mean you never wanted the Flame? The Flame is why you came here, it’s why you’ve suffered through each and every-”

“It’s not.”

The pure confusion on his face makes a thought pop into your head. 

Confusion is the first step…

You hadn’t wanted to do it yet, it wouldn’t have worked before. Maybe it isn’t too late. Maybe if you do it now…it might work.

____, listen to me.

You struggle to your feet, wide eyes looking into his. 

His dark eyes flicker around your messy face stained with tears, the shining glimmer of hope in yours a huge contrast from the sobbing you had been doing only moments before. 

Then you’re stepping closer and he isn’t stepping away. 

He doesn’t even flinch when you take his face in your hands and raise yourself up on your tiptoes. 

He doesn’t protest, he doesn’t fight you at all when you pull him into a kiss. 

The second your lips touch, it’s like that last band snaps inside him and he can’t stop. 

He doesn’t want to stop.

A sigh leaves your mouth when you pull away. Only a second later, he pulls you back in, connecting your mouths again in a desperate kiss, his cold hands holding the nape of your neck. 

He tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss and you gasp when you feel something wet prodding at the seam of your lips. The moment your mouth opens in that gasp, his tongue meets yours in a heated tangle. 

Your wet lips slide against his as a groan slips from him. 

“Fuck,” he moans icily into your mouth. 

You can feel his hands running down your sides with frenzied desire. 

Focus, I need to focus. 

Your eyes scrunch shut as you try to keep yourself in check. 

JK’s brows furrow as his mind begins to blur, a strange heat building up inside of him as he continues to kiss you. 

Green leaves and a bright sun flash in his mind, startling him enough to pull away. 

“Don’t stop,” you gasp, pulling him into you again. 

He shakes off the strange images and dives right back into your lips, an insatiable hunger burning in his lower stomach as his hands travel to your waist and grasp it roughly. 

Only moments later, he sees a roaring river and hears the sound of laughter. 

You feel him pull away again. 

“Just focus, it’s okay,” you whisper, hands cupping his cheeks as you press another kiss to his lips, “Just close your eyes and breathe.”

He wants to stop and ask you what’s going on, but he doesn’t waste a second before pressing his lips back to yours. One of your smaller hands cups his cheek, then you start running the tips of your fingers down his neck and shoulder before holding onto his bicep where that horrible tattoo lies. He feels you grip the sleeve of his shirt harshly, as if you’re dying to just tear it to shreds. 

A vase of dead roses flickers into his blurry mind, then the image of someone lying on a bed, hair splayed out around her.

His brows furrow more, but he doesn’t stop kissing you as the pictures he can’t make sense of fade away. He doesn’t stop his hands from sliding behind your waist and traveling up your back slowly.  

Trees crowd in all around his vision. 

There’s someone running in front of him. 

A small girl. 

She turns around briefly, a huge smile lighting up her face as she laughs. 

“You’re cheating!” 

She only laughs louder and continues to run until she’s disappeared into the bushes ahead. 

“Apple!”

The demon’s eyes fly open and he pulls away. 

You gulp in a breath as you look up at him. 

Then your heart freezes in your chest when you realize what’s happened; the look on his face as he takes a step back from you turns your stomach to rot. 

“Wait,” your voice is weak as you reach a hand out to him. 

You can’t see anything but bewildered anger in his eyes. You were so focused you hadn’t known that he was touching your back. That he-

“I-”

“Shut up.”

You snap your mouth shut. 

“Turn around,” he breathes, just barely keeping it contained. 

“I can expl-” “I said turn the fuck around!!” 

You flinch but make no move to do as he says. 

You can see the last bit of patience snap in his eyes as he grabs your arm and yanks you to him so that he can rip the cardigan off of you. It tears easily, falling to the ground as you put a shaking hand over your mouth and shrink away from him. 

The white wings on your back droop in defeat, the tips just barely brushing against the ground. 

“You-”

The furious hatred on his face is clear. 

You’ve never seen him like this, not ever. 

“You’re a fucking angel?” His voice trembles with rage. 

“JK…”

He steps closer, making you flinch again, “Say that name again and I’ll rip your fucking head off.”

You gulp but don’t say a word. 

“So this was your little game the whole time, huh?” He hisses, stepping closer, “See if the precious angel could defeat a demon in Hell..and here I thought you were smart.”

“That wasn’t it,” you mumble, a few tears sliding down your cheeks. 

“What the hell were you thinking, little angel?” He glares at you in disgust, “That I would fall for you? Love you?” A sadistic chuckle leaves his lips as you close your eyes. 

You jump without opening your eyes when a harsh grip snags your upper arm and he pulls you to him. 

“You really thought I could care about you.” He muses with a dark chuckle, “You, a disgusting pathetic little puppet. I knew there was something off about you this whole time. Did He not give you enough love up there? Had to come to Hell to beg for it?”

You refuse to look at him, you just stand there, trembling and keeping your eyes screwed shut. 

“Open your eyes and look at me.”

Reluctantly, you do as he says. His dark ones are full of so much rage and hatred it makes you sick as he searches your watery gaze. 

Then you feel a cold hand close around your throat. 

“I would kill you right now,” he whispers in your ear coldly. You close your eyes when you feel him start to squeeze harder and harder until you can’t breathe, “If I thought you were worth any more of my time.”

A pained gasp escapes you when he shoves you to the ground. 

You hit the dirt harshly, arms buckling as they try to catch you, wings muddied and sore. Your watery eyes raise to him again, desperate and terrified. 

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper helplessly, voice hoarse from his actions. You know what would come of an angel lost in this place.

He knows it too.

The demon looks down at you, the lowest angel in existence, with a loathing unmatched before spitting venomously, “Find your own way out of Hell.”

Your vision blurs with tears as he turns and walks off without a single hesitation, his tall dark figure getting smaller and smaller until you are completely and utterly alone. 

_________________

You sit there in stunned silence for a few minutes, just staring at the spot on the ground where he once stood. There is nothing in your mind, yet there is everything all at once. Everything is spinning wildly, nothing making sense. 

Then finally, a sliver of a cohesive thought passes through and you stumble to your feet, tripping over yourself in your haste to get back to the door. 

The snake vines have begun to return, attempting to hide it once more. 

You smack and tear at them viciously, tears pouring down your cheeks silently as you uncover the handle and yank open the door. 

The sound of your bare feet hitting the rocky ground softly as you run echoes off the walls in the darkness. Before long, you can see the archway ahead.

Despite the pain and fear filling you, you push yourself harder until you’re stumbling into the Chamber of Souls and falling to the marble floor. 

You stagger to your feet and hurry to the wall nearest you, eyes scanning the souls frantically as you limp quickly around the perimeter. 

They all look the same. 

They all look the exact same. 

You start to hyperventilate as you go, dirty fingers running along the glass and leaving smudges behind. 

Come on, Apple. 

You can do this. 

You gulp and force your exhausted legs to keep moving. 

He would not give up on you, no matter what.

Suck it up and keep moving.

Your eyes dart this way and that, mind screaming in a horrible panic when you realize you have no idea what to do. Then a thought occurs to you. 

Maybe you won’t be able to tell the difference by looking at them. But maybe you can in a different way. 

Your feet take off running back down the hall where you came from, until you are outside once again and looking for the first heavy thing you see. 

There’s a decent sized stone not far from the door. You grab it and run back inside, lungs burning as you don’t let yourself stop to take a breath. 

You can do this, Apple, you can do this. 

By the time you make it back into the room, you can barely breathe as you lug the rock over to a section of the glass. Closing your eyes, you mutter a quick prayer before opening them again and hurling the stone right at the fragile substance and watching it shatter. 

You put your arms over your face in an attempt to protect it from the worst of the flying pieces of sharp debris. Only your face, chest, and arms were cut by the shards, but not too badly. 

Your chest rises and falls in heavy breaths as you stare at the gaping hole in the windows in front of you, the blackened souls floating there, undisturbed. 

Just as you’re reaching a tentative hand in to grab one, to hold it and see if you can know who it once belonged to, there is a clapping sound from behind you. 

You whirl around to see a demon there, leaning against the archway you came into. 

His skin is pale, eyes dark blue and shaggy hair a dirty blonde that goes to the top of his prominent cheekbones.

The demon wears a fitting black shirt that’s tucked into the waist of his skinny black jeans.

There’s a smug smile on his unsettlingly handsome face as he claps his hands slowly, again, and again, and again. 

You say nothing, eyes drawn to the tattoo on his bicep; the dead monarch butterfly being strangled by a serpent. 

Sav.

“Well, if it isn’t the little stowaway angel herself.”

You continue to stay mute, watching cautiously as he pushes himself off the rocky wall and starts to slowly walk to you from across the room. 

“I thought angels were supposed to be…I don’t know, pretty? Perfect little princesses of Heaven?” A dark chuckle leaves his throat at your silence.

Sav stops ten feet away from you. 

“You’re not any of those things, are you?”

When he takes another step towards you, you finally move, inching backwards along the edge of the room with each step he takes. The smirk on his face only grows as he observes your messy hair, bruised skin and dirty wings that droop behind you, currently at rest. 

“This is what JK risked everything for? Seriously?”

“How did you know I was here?” You ask sharply, eyes narrowing, “How did you know what I was and he didn’t?”

Sav scoffs. 

“Because he’s a fool-”

“Really? And why did it take you so long to find me then, if you’re so smart?”

His blue eyes narrow as he continues his slow but steady advance. 

“I wasn’t looking for you, little angel. I was looking for him.”

“That makes you look even stupider.”

You see his jaw clench. 

“I was busy,” he says, strangely calm, “I knew he was up to something, but honestly? I didn’t think even he would be so brainless as to lead an angel through Hell.”

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t. Not until now, at least,” he chuckles, “Your wings kind of tipped it off a bit, I suppose.”

You gulp, trying to figure out which way is your best bet on getting out. 

“Don’t even think about trying to escape, it’ll just be a tire for us both.”

You say nothing. 

“Where is he, anyway?” Sav’s creepy smile returns, “Your little demon lover.”

When you don’t say a word, he throws his head back and cackles. 

“He left you.”

Your hands are sweating as you clench them into fists, your eyes darting around to see which door you can get to quickest. It looks like the one with the silver handle might be your best choice. Sav is standing over by the bronze door in the alcove, the gold handled door is between you. The archway is straight across the room and you know where that leads, but he would catch you before you could make it out. 

Silver it is. 

“You do know what happens to naughty angels when they get caught in Hell, don’t you?”

All you do is stare at him, mentally timing yourself on when to run. 

“JK knew…and yet he left you.”

Your heart feels like it’s been impaled by a hundred swords. 

“It’s almost like he wants you to suffer.”

You continue to slowly inch your way around the perimeter as he keeps walking closer. 

You can make it to that door. 

“I wish he were here,” Sav pouts, “I’d pay to see the look on his face when I torture his little angel until she’s begging for me to have mercy. Telling me she will do anything to make it stop..”

You gulp, forcing yourself not to look at the door you are about to make a run through. 

It’s only a few feet away now. 

Sav is just about to make another snide comment about your appearance when you turn and bolt for the black wooden door with the silver handle. You can hear him screaming something angrily, but you don’t stop to find out what it is. You’re out the door faster than lightning and running at full speed down the pitch black hall. 

It’s unclear whether he’s followed you in with the sound of your panicked breathing echoing in your ears. Your body is so exhausted it feels like it’s going to collapse. You can’t let it. 

…

You almost made it out. 

The exit was only a few feet in front of you, when an arm riddled with muscles wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. 

The bloodcurdling scream that left you could’ve been heard miles away. 

It was a scream only those that knew the horrors that awaited them would understand.

It wasn’t Sav that grabbed you, it was a demon much larger than he. A demon that cackled maniacally as he dragged you back through the tunnel and into the Chamber of Souls, where Sav was waiting, a delighted smirk on his face as he stood there and watched you cry and fight as hard as you could, fear clear in your eyes. 

He knew. 

He knew you would never have made it out, no matter which door you chose. 

The demon holding you tightly against it- so hard it pinches your wings painfully- has red scales and a horrible long snout full of sharp teeth. It has bony ribs, but muscled arms and thighs as it stands on two mangled legs.

You grit your teeth, gathering yourself. Then you bite the demon’s slimy arm covered in scales, drawing a pained howl from him as he drops you to the floor, knocking the air out of your lungs. 

After a second, you scramble to your feet, blood dripping from your mouth. You aren’t sure if the blood is your own or the demon’s as it hisses curses at you. Sav just watches you closely as you heave in several breaths. 

“You could defeat us right now,” he says casually, “If He allows it. All you would need to do, little angel, is ask Him. Ask Him or one of His little minions to assist you. Call to His strongest minion of all, go ahead.”

You gulp and wipe at the bloody streaks on your chin, glaring at him. 

He’s right, you could get out of this. 

You can make them suffer.

“If ever you need me, little one, just say my name and I will come.”

“If you hurt us even a little bit though,” Sav looks at his nails, inspecting them as he sighs, “We will torture him greater than even the dealt punishment for not delivering enough souls to Hell.”

You close your eyes.

There was never even an inkling of a plan to leave Jungkook here, even after he left you. All you needed was to get out of this predicament. 

But you will not risk him enduring more agony because of you.

Sav tuts when you lower your head, staring at the floor. 

“Why so eager to help him when he couldn’t care less about you?”

You don’t say anything. 

Even as the demon that grabbed you in the hall harshly digs his clawed fingers into your arm, breaking the flesh and drawing blood, your arms wrest behind you, you still say nothing. 

“Thank you little angel,” a devilish smirk spreads on Sav’s pink lips, “For finally giving me something to hold over JK’s pretentious little head. You, I must say, are the most satisfying weakness of his that I could have ever hoped for.”

“I’m not his weakness,” you mumble, knees beginning to shake as the grip on your arms tightens, “You said it yourself, he left me.”

Sav scrutinizes you for a second longer, then he turns on his heel, the demon holding you following behind him as he heads for the alcove. 

Out of nowhere, another demon emerges as you walk. It’s a tall thin man with too big eyes and a smile that stretches across half his face. You swallow thickly when he grabs your left arm so that you’re being dragged between them, feet barely touching the ground. 

When you see Sav opening the door in the alcove, the one JK told you to stay away from, a terror you’ve never experienced takes root. 

Sav smiles sadistically at you. 

“You made a deal with a devil, darling. Now, you’re going to pay the price.”

Every fiber of your being is telling you to scream, to scream and scream and scream. To beg for someone to come save you.

Your body shakes uncontrollably as you’re dragged closer and closer to the door leading into stairs that fall into blackness. Tortured screams echo from below as you stare at the scratch marks on the door. 

If you weren’t restrained, you’re sure your own nails would be digging into that same wood. An act so desperate it would tear that wood to splinters in an attempt not to let the door close. 

Any mortal would have blacked out from pure gut-wrenching fear at the knowledge of what awaited them down those steps. 

You are too horrifyingly aware as you continue to tremble violently, arms sore as the demons clutch you tightly, pulling you closer and closer to the staircase. 

You are too terrified to scream. 

The demon standing in front of you raises a brow and tilts his head at your silence, "You really are loyal, aren't you? Well, pretty thing-"

Sav leans in, mockery dripping from his tongue as he whispers, "Semper fidelis, semper fortis, little angel." He tilts his head back and laughs, then he walks into the door first, the demons holding you following closely behind. 

“Don’t bother begging for mercy, doll,” he calls over his shoulder, “It doesn’t exist here.”

The last thing you see is Sav walking down the steps before the sound of the door behind you slamming shut reaches your ears. 

Then there’s nothing but darkness. 

___________________________________________

a/n: tysm for reading, thoughts are always welcome, ily <3

taglist 1; @butterymin @kookxin @telepathytae @kooliv @highoffbaddecisions @meanum @smitssharon02 @kmpac @ggukkieland @jjanjankook @sugaslittlekookies @hobispriteu1306 @kimchibrat @slowlydeliciousjiminie @screamertannie @i-dont-give-a-fok @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @ohyeahjk @babycandy111 @era-genius @xmochiloverx @sopikooo @jamlessstars @bangtannie7 @nuttykittypainter @geniejunn @ane102 @charlesswife @ashbxnny @veronawrites @jjkw-7 @jinsundor @h-g-bts @justvibingsblog @hyunyeon @hellbornsworld @hiii-priestess @nuttypizzacat @vidaficrecs @royallyjjk @thvslvt @hoseoksluv89 @moonchilddna @idkjustlovingbts @aurorathi

[natural-idiot3]

Tsaritsa

⚠️Warning! contains: yandere themes, angst, gore!, not much sense! Read at your own risk ⚠️

I got this idea from character ai. A weak goddess au was made by @Altxir in character ai. And I got this idea that has been haunting me all night.

————————-

“Cut them off.”

You paused for a moment unsure if you heard her correctly but before you could ask her to repeat…

“Wings are an image of your freedom so prove your faith to me. Cut. Them. Off.”

——————

You were a weak goddess that was being hunted down by your old followers because you made a few… mistakes. These mistakes allowed hatred to brew, jealousy to take over your land and overall your people’s faith in you disappeared.

The only powers you had were flying as your wings were huge and the power of blessing rain for good harvest every year. All gods wanted your wings to hang as trophies for killing you because you were a lesser god, one that had their own followers betray them. You don’t have any power to defend yourself, you needed protection from your old followers and other gods. Unfortunately as most gods wanted to kill you, you couldn’t trust any of them for protection apart from a few…

The anemo archon Barabotes, the dendro archon Rukkhadevata and the cryo archon the Tsaritsa. The anemo archon disappeared and the dendro archon was dealing with the withering so you can’t go to them for help!

So you went to the last place you could get protection… Snezhnaya.

You travelled long distances, going over mountains, through forests and into the desert. With the bounty above your head, you couldn’t fly otherwise you would be spotted instantly. So you had to walk for miles, hide whenever someone came along and survive off hunting rabbits and berries. But eventually you arrived in Snezhnaya.

The bitter cold didn’t do any good for your wings… they could only be used to wrap around you to create a blanket of warmth. Eventually you were able to get to the frozen place. Even in the night it glowed an icy blue and glittered showing the reflection of the stars in the sky. The frozen place was beautiful but even a beautiful rose has thorns. You were granted entry to the great hall as if they already knew you were coming.

The Tsaritsa was breathtaking. A powerful aura… one you don’t wish to ever challenge. Walking further into the hall, you see all the fatui harbingers standing equal on different sides of the Tsaritsas throne.

This place was truly terrifying.

——————

“Cut them off.”

You paused for a moment unsure if you heard her correctly but before you could ask her to repeat…

“Wings are an image of your freedom so prove your faith to me Cut. Them. Off.” It was said in a commanding and intimidating voice that roared out sending fear down your spine.

“I want you to prove that you want to be my follower. You are a god. Even if you are weak… I will only accept those who prove their faith.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing… cut off your wings to get protection…

It’s … but you suppose it’s better than getting killed.

A weapon is thrown to your feet… waiting for your answer…

——————

A muffled blood curling scream echoed through the cold halls… no one breathed… no one made a single sound…

A thud was heard a few seconds later…

All the fatui harbingers were shocked while the Tsaritsa was unfazed. Unfazed of how much blood poured out your back. Unfazed of the pain smudging across your face.

One wing was off…

Your back was lighter… a horrible feeling. No longer a comfortable heaviness was there. No more extra warmth. It was cold… and painful. The wing had completely come off… but only one wing.

The fatui gazes stated disbelief and shock.

Just how bad did you need protection to go this far?

What a cruel demand…

You writhed in pain… it made you head go blank with whiteness as you had felt muscles rips apart and bones snap. The wing was completely severed from the rest of you… but this was not over.

You waited for the pain to lessen so she could move the weapon to the other wing.

———

This weapon was a simple chain with a handle and a spell that activated when you put any magic into it. You had to wrap this around you wing and put a slight bit of your magic into it… the spell activated.

The chain suddenly dug into your wing and go so tight it crushed through muscles and bone… until it had completely come off.

This time you couldn’t hold back a scream.

The scream echoed throughout the icy cold walls of the great hall.

As more blood gushed out of your wingless back, the Tsarista stood up from her icy throne, her heels echoing through the great hall. Standing above you… she kneeled down and spoke softly…

“Well done my child. I will use these wings to show a fake death… other gods will stay away. You’re safe now. Safe and… mine. My faithful servant”…

She wrapped her arms around you… not caring for the blood staining her white and light blue dress. She’s cold… colder than your now bare back. But a pleasant cold… safe and… your eyes grew heavy…

“It’s alright, I’ve got you. You’re all mine…”

————

Well… you’re free to use this idea if you want. Goodbye!

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (16/22)

Chapter summary: You go through a difficult period following your breakup with Yelena, and you and Wanda end up falling down the rabbit hole for the second time around

Chapter word count: 6.4K | Warnings: Angst, Mild smut | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: Before you say anything, I have a plan. Enjoy :) P.S. My requests are open

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next chapter: Seventeen Part One

--

Sixteen

“And then she kissed you?” Agatha asks. She looks the same way she does when she’s actively participating in gossip, hanging onto every detail of the latest scandal that keeps most people entertained in their insignificant lives.

Wanda solemnly nods, as if validating a piece of tragic news.

“Why aren't you thrilled?” Agatha observes quietly, picking at her tooth with her fingernail. “I mean, doesn't that confirm that she still has feelings for you?”

“You remember what happened last time, right? When she did more than just kiss me?”

Agatha grimaces, “Right, of all places, in our stockroom." Then, her tone morphs into a more probing one, “But, did the kiss feel as if she just wanted to get into your pants?”

Wanda lets out a sigh, her heartbeat quickening as she reminisces about its tenderness. It felt akin to a first kiss—vulnerable, slightly apprehensive, tinged with anxiety, and yet, at the same time familiar—like finding her way back home.

It was perfect in every sense. 

But it was tainted by its very nature. It was a betrayal. And if there were truly raw feelings behind it, then it’s worse—it would mean that you have been emotionally unfaithful to Yelena. 

Wanda may have ruined yet another relationship.

In the midst of her internal struggle, she finally manages to answer Agatha, “It felt like hope,” giving voice to her undeniable feelings for you. “But she’s with Yelena.”

“I never really had faith in that relationship to begin with,” Agatha retorts dismissively, cleaning her hands with a towel before reaching for one of the cookies on display.

“That's a terrible thing to say,” Wanda chides.

“I’m only being honest,” Agatha says, unapologetic in her bluntness. “You were fucking each other like rabbits and then a few weeks later, she gets a girlfriend. That's a classic rebound scenario. I'm surprised the woman she's with allowed herself to be used like that.”

Wanda finds Agatha’s uninhibited words a little offensive, though she understands that their deepening friendship has allowed for such unfiltered honesty between them. Even though she's jealous of Yelena, Wanda understands that she is good for you. She doesn't like how Agatha talks about Yelena as if she's too naive to try a relationship with you.

Wanda feels she can relate with Yelena. Often, love makes us scared that we might never get a second chance, so we choose to take a leap of faith, despite the warning signs.

“So, what are you planning to do about it?” Agatha asks, taking a bite of her favorite cookie. Wanda makes a mental note to deduct that cookie from the stock count.

Wanda shakes her head, replying, “Nothing,”

Agatha pauses mid-chew, her eyes wide with shock. Wanda can't help but observe the crumbs of food lodged in her teeth. “You're not going to seize this opportunity?” Agatha questions, disbelief coating her voice.

“Y/N needs to sort things out,” Wanda lets out a heavy sigh. “Without my interference.”

“You’re not afraid of missing out on this chance?”

Wanda sidesteps Agatha's question with one of her own. “Why are you suddenly supportive? It wasn’t long ago when you couldn't stand her.”

“I’m supportive of you. I’m rooting for your happiness, dear. But I’ve seen you at your worst, and I think you’re putting on a brave face right now.”

Wanda's eyes dip down. Her friend isn’t entirely wrong.

“What happens if she decides to stay with Yelena?” Agatha probes further.

Wanda's response isn't immediate; she takes a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before replying softly, “Then I hope she’ll be very happy with her.” 

Agatha rolls her eyes, because of course, Wanda would say that. Even if you were being served to her on a silver platter, she’d worry for your happiness over her own. 

“And where does that leave you?” Agatha asks, folding her arms across her chest.

Wanda lifts her shoulders in a casual shrug, her face unreadable. “Living life as it comes, I guess. Just one day at a time.”

At this, Agatha decides to drop the subject. She has a strong feeling that Wanda’s just waiting for you to come to her, and when you do, she's certain that Wanda won't maintain this pretense of indifference. As for Wanda, she doesn’t want to obsess over what you’re doing or thinking. She doesn’t want to make the same mistake of hoping for an outcome that only you can decide.

Switching topics, Agatha raises an eyebrow and asks, “And the pup? Is he doing okay?”

Wanda smiles faintly, “I brought him home yesterday.”

“Well, that's a relief,” Agatha remarks. “Do you reckon Sparky masterminded all this to get Y/N to your place at an ungodly hour? Can dogs be that crafty?”

Wanda throws her an incredulous look. “Are you being serious right now?”

A wicked giggle slips from Agatha, spreading until Wanda finds herself laughing along. She doesn't notice the arrival of a guest until the distinct sound of the call bell jars her attention.

It’s Valkyrie, casually leaning against the countertop, looking awkward and so unlike her usual self.

Agatha casts a sly glance at Peter, who's been trying to catch her eye ever since Valkyrie stepped into the cafe. When Agatha isn't around, Peter fills her in on the latest happenings, a reliable source of juicy tidbits. Peter quirks his brows and discreetly nods towards Valkyrie, his mouth miming a silent message. Reading his lips, Agatha pieces together that this is the woman who recently found herself entangled in Wanda's intricate web.

Agatha sweeps her eyes over the woman appreciatively. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Wanda rubs her palms together, a habit she’s developed before taking a customer order. “Hi, Val! What is it for today? We have new beans delivered all the way from Niseko–”

“Actually,” Valkyrie softly cuts her off. “I was hoping we could talk?”

Agatha watches their exchange, an eager twinkle in her eyes. With the pace at which interesting events are unraveling, she may as well pop a bag of microwave popcorn to truly savor the unfolding drama.

Wanda nods and moves away from the counter, temporarily handing the reins to Agatha. They pick a spot in the furthest corner from the kitchen, well out of earshot, much to Agatha's disappointment.

“First off, I owe you an apology,” Valkyrie begins. “I’d blame it on the alcohol, but there’s no excuse for me pressuring you too much to take shots. That wasn’t cool at all. You already said no several times and I ignored you.”

Wanda waves her off casually. “Oh, it's alright. I appreciate the apology, but it wasn't that big of a deal. You couldn't have forced me to drink if I really didn't want to, right?”

Valkyrie's frown dips further at Wanda's easy dismissal of the issue. “No, Wanda. If I'd kept on, I might've pushed you into it even if you didn't want to. I'm just glad Y/N stepped in when she did.”

Something flashes in Wanda’s eyes at the mention of your name. Valkyrie catches it but opts to ignore it for the meantime.

“Yeah, I did feel a bit cornered that night,” Wanda concedes, a smile returning to her face. “But it's water under the bridge now. Was there something else you needed to discuss?”

“You sure don't beat around the bush, do you?” Valkyrie attempts to lighten the mood, but her tension is evident in her shaky voice and the way her fingers fiddle with her watch.

Wanda chuckles. “It's a skill I've been honing lately.”

Taking a deep, measured breath, Valkyrie gathers her courage. "Alright, here it is..."

Wanda tilts her head at her curiously, wondering what it’s about.

“I like you,” Valkyrie blurts out. “I don’t normally confess to someone I’m not even dating, but you’re… incredible. That's how I feel about you and I thought you should know."

“Oh! Uh…” Wanda trails off, blushing at Valkyrie’s confession.

Valkyrie nibbles at her lip, observing as Wanda fumbles to put her thoughts into words. She silently hopes she's left Wanda speechless in a good way.

“There’s… someone,” Wanda manages to utter out eventually. “I've been in love with her for the better part of my life.” Or maybe her whole life, if she’s being brutally honest.

Valkyrie nods, her throat tightening to hold back the sting of rejection. “It's her, isn't it?” she ventures, silently alluding to you.

Wanda diverts her gaze and emits a modest laugh. She must have made her feelings too obvious for anyone to see.

“She’s my ex-wife,” is all the explanation Wanda offers.

“Wow,” Valkyrie looks taken aback by the revelation. “That sounds messy.”

“It's beyond messy,” Wanda retorts.

“Go on,” Valkyrie encourages.

Wanda looks at her, thoughtful. “Are you sure you want to delve into my past? It might take some time.”

Valkyrie smiles, already leaning in closer to signify that she’s all ears. “I made time this morning specifically to talk to you. I want to understand, at least, why I'm being rejected.”

Wanda chuckles softly at the gesture. Collecting her thoughts, she starts to narrate a condensed version of the turbulent history she's had, of how she ruined everything that’s good in her life.

When Wanda wraps up her story, Valkyrie simply says, "Wow, that's... pretty fucking messed up."

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Wanda admits, biting her lower lip, anxiety swirling in her gaze. She worries that revealing her darkest past may have cost her a budding friendship. “I think I saw your interest, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions and have the wrong idea. I just wanted us to be friends. I still do, if that's okay with you.”

“Of course, I want to be friends with you, Wanda. More than the fact that you’re hot, we have a lot in common too.”

Wanda's cheeks tinge a soft pink at Valkyrie's flippant comment about her being ‘hot’.

“So, friends then?” Valkyrie extends her hand.

Wanda smiles in relief. “Friends.”

***

A phone call rouses you from sleep. You groggily glance at the clock and realize you've overslept.

“It’s done,” your lawyer's voice cuts through the grogginess as soon as you pick up the call.

Disoriented, you squint against the daylight streaming in through the window. “What are you referring to?” you inquire, your voice hoarse from sleep.

“Vision has settled,” she elaborates, her words crisp and distinct. “And he caught a flight to Tokyo last night.”

“He's gone?”

“From what I've heard, he intended to use the settlement money to finance his studies overseas. He won't be returning in the near future. But even if he does decide to cut his trip short, you're safe. He has no legal means to trouble you anymore,” she assures you.

“You've got snitches now?” you quip, your eyes narrowing in suspicion even as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your mouth.

Her laughter rings out through the phone, followed by a breezy, “You're welcome,” before she ends the call.

It's over. A chapter of your past has finally closed. Vision has physically left the city, and you've literally paid your dues. You hadn't realized you were in a kind of self-imposed cage until now, when a sense of liberation pulses through your veins.

Before you can fully indulge in the relief provided by your lawyer's news, however, a persistent knock at your door breaks your reverie. You can't help but wonder who it could be, and how they bypassed the building's security without a notification from the concierge.

As you pull the door open, you find yourself face to face with the last person you expected to see.

“Nat?”

She appears ready to tear you apart. For a moment, the thought crosses your mind, 'this is it, this is how I go, at the hands of my best friend'. Strangely, you're indifferent to whatever she might inflict on you. Having her here at least affords you an opportunity to have a conversation.

Yet, Natasha doesn't respond. She doesn't even spare you a glance. Instead, she brushes past you and starts gathering random items into a large duffel bag she brought along.

“Nat, can you please just talk to me?”

“What for, Y/N? I have nothing to say to you.”

“Yelena broke up with me,” you say.

Natasha scoffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“Nat, please,” you plead. “You can’t just cut me out forever. I’m your best–”

“Are you?!” The outburst that tears from her is enough to make you recoil. “Are you my friend, Y/N? I woke up to my sister on my doorstep, in shambles. All thanks to my ‘friend’.”

You wrap your arms around yourself as tremors course through your body. Tears start to flow down your cheeks at the mere mention of Yelena.

“You want to talk? Fine, I’ll talk,” Natasha rages on. “I stood by you through thick and thin. I held your hand through all the shit you went through last year. I brought you into my home. I took care of you. I loved you–” Natasha's voice catches on 'loved', and your heart shatters at her use of the past tense.

“–and you just betrayed me, like I meant nothing. You betrayed my sister like she meant nothing. We both cared about you, Y/N.” Her voice dwindles near the end, her next words coming out just above a whisper. “So, no, we’re not friends. Not anymore.”

“Nat, I’m s–”

“You know what? I can’t fucking do this. I’m just gonna send someone to collect Yelena's things. If I don’t, just throw out her stuff like you did with your relationship. Goodbye, Y/N.”

The door slams shut behind her. You find yourself on the floor, curled into a ball, as you grieve the friendship you’ve known all your life.

***

Dark screens and unreturned messages follow.

Yelena has blocked you on every possible platform, cutting off any form of communication. Natasha hasn't, but she leaves all your messages unread, allowing your calls to go unanswered, seemingly enjoying your desperation. Clint ignores your texts, and Kate only responded once, promising to try and speak to Yelena for you. That was a week ago, and there's been no word since. You didn't think you'd be back in the dark place you were in a year ago, and the worst part is, you brought it on yourself this time.

The only news you get about Yelena is from your own mother. A few days after Yelena left your shared apartment, your mother called to ask what had happened. Apparently, Yelena had told her the news herself and asked her to take care of you and make sure you were alright. Throughout the call, you cried silently, feeling the remnants of Yelena's care for you even after you broke her heart.

And your mother, perennially at odds with handling emotions, simply offered her condolences. Although by doing so, she offered more support than she did when you were weathering your divorce from Wanda the year before. With your latest tragedy out of the way, she proceeded to ask if you could make time to visit Montauk over the holidays.

***

Drinking is… a problem. Again. 

But you approach it with more caution this time. You don’t drink as much at home so you can avoid not showing up at work the next day. Rather, you sneak in a flask in the office, sipping from it from time to time to keep you the right amount of…adrift. You’re too good with numbers that even with a little haze in your head, the alcohol doesn’t interfere with your work. 

It interferes with other thoughts.

***

When Kate finally calls you, you’re in the middle of a disastrous presentation at work. Her words had been brief, only giving you the time (three in the afternoon) and location (The New York Public Library) where she wanted to meet. 

It takes some time for you to locate Kate within the vast elegance of the Rose Main Reading Room. She's tucked away in the northeast corner, engrossed in her work, even on a Sunday. A towering pile of books rises to her eye level on her desk.

“I can’t believe I was wrong about you.” Kate says without looking up as you settle on the vacant seat next to her.

“Wrong about me?” you ask, keeping your voice in a hushed tone.

“I had this fleeting thought that you might actually be a good person.” she says.

Swallowing hard, you struggle to find a response, well aware that Kate is just laying out the facts. What kind of person would cheat on their best friend's sister? What kind of person would throw away years of trust and a lifelong friendship?

“She told you?” you finally manage to ask.

“Yelena didn’t say much,” Kate says with a hint of sorrow. “But I've never seen her look so…” she trails off, struggling to find the right words, and eventually concludes, “She doesn't look like the Yelena I know.”

You’re afraid to ask what she means by that. You haven’t looked in the mirror yourself, in fear of seeing the results of your own wreckage.

“She quit today, you know?” Kate reveals, setting down her pen to give you her full attention. You don't see resentment in her eyes, only caution. This is the most compassion you've been shown since your relationship with Yelena fell apart. 

The news of Yelena's resignation hits you like a punch to the gut. She had a promising career ahead of her, and she'd found a supportive environment in her workplace. It's hard to believe she'd just abandon that so abruptly. You feel a wave of nausea at the thought.

“I sort of saw it coming,” Kate adds. “Not her resignation–God, I tried my best to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't budge. I… I saw you running back to Wanda.”

Your eyes narrow curiously as you regard Kate. “How?” 

Kate sighs, pushing a pile of papers to the side to give you her full attention. “It's not a secret, you know. You might think you're being discreet, but you’re more transparent than you'd like to believe. You’re a completely different person when she’s around. I saw it during the 6-miler event we all joined by chance.”

There’s no point in denying any of that. The weeks that follow after that, you were crying to your mother regarding your conflicted feelings about Wanda. But if you had been aware of the signs as early as then, would things be different somehow?

“I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Kate,” you say, the words sounding weak and inadequate to your own ears.

“I know,” Kate says quietly, and there's a touch of sympathy in her eyes that makes you feel even worse. “But that doesn't change the fact that it did happen. And people are getting hurt because of it.”

You can sense that Kate is one of those people–by hurting Yelena, the girl she clearly loves. 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you whisper. You wish there was another way to convey how sorry you are–a keyword to make it all go away.

“Yeah, me too. Mostly because I have to tell you that we can no longer be friends.” Kate says, looking genuinely upset about her decision, her gaze dropping to her hands as she twirls the pen between her fingers.

“I know,” you nod, appreciating her honesty. “Thank you.”

“Look, I have no idea how deep your thing with Wanda goes. All I know is you can’t keep running away. You can’t keep hiding behind the comfort of other people.”

You bob your head in acknowledgment, even though you're uncertain how to put her words into practice.

"Can you pass on a message to Yelena for me?" you ask, wringing your hands together nervously.

Kate lets out a sigh, her fingers halting their movement on the pen. “I’ll try. No promises though.”

“Could you tell her that I'm sorry...that I truly loved her?”

A moment of silence follows your request as Kate studies you, her lips pursed. It might seem hypocritical of you to make such a claim, but she refrains from passing judgment. But seeing your bloodshot eyes and your pale chapped lips and the lack of life in you, she thinks there’s probably some truth to it.

***

It takes you an additional week before you summon the courage to visit Wanda's apartment. 

Truth be told, you've been hiding away in shame, confining yourself to either your bedroom or your office, instructing your assistant to keep the door closed and not to disturb you, secluding yourself from the outside world. Aside from interactions at your work, you haven’t talked to anyone. 

A moment of misjudgment led you to lose everything that you were left with when you lost Wanda. But gradually, even as you were beating yourself up over and over again with the dissolution of your relationship with both Romanovs, Wanda became the only one you can think about. You can't escape her pull, no matter how hard you try. 

Eventually, you devolve into nothing more than a compulsion; a compelling need to see Wanda. Which is what brings you here, with your fist poised to knock on the door. But just before your knuckles make contact with the wooden panel, the door swings open, and Wanda's voice unthinkingly spills into the hallway where you stand.

“–let me ask if the neighbor has some sugar–” Wanda halts dead in her tracks as she comes face to face with you.

The timid smile on your face drops as soon as you realize she's not alone. Behind her, comfortably perched on the couch is Valkyrie.

“Seems like you're already entertained. I'll head out,” Valkyrie proposes, getting up on her feet. “I'll pick up my shirt when you come around for the run next week, sound good?”

Wanda nods in a daze to that, her eyes never leaving you.

"No, I should leave," you counter weakly.

“No, Y/N, please stay,” Wanda implores. “See you later, Val. Thanks for the shoes.”

You stiffen and step aside as Valkyrie moves to gather her belongings. When she finally approaches the door, standing next to you, she tilts her head to murmur a parting sentiment intended for your ears only.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I had a spill on my shirt. Don't let her down this time,” she whispers. 

Her words stun you into silence long after she's left.

“Y/N? Please, come in,” Wanda invites you, her voice trembling slightly. Nodding silently, you step inside.

You regard each other quietly, simply observing one another for what feels like an eternity. This isn’t how you imagined things would go when you thought about coming here this morning. You wanted to see Wanda because you needed to be with her. But now, all you can think about is Wanda and Valkyrie being all over each other.

“It’s been awhile,” Wanda offers, not really sure how to begin as you stay awkwardly near the door–as if you’re strategically placing yourself there in case you decide you want to run. She studies you, attempting to read your expression, to figure out what this could be about. She’s been thinking about the thumb drive that contained the video of her and Vision. Did you finally see it? Did you decide to pay him off?

Or is this about Yelena? Wanda’s been thinking if you came clean to your girlfriend about the kiss, wondering if you've managed to patch things up, and if Yelena has forgiven you.

If you’ve chosen to be with Yelena after all.

“Yeah, Valkyrie was here pretty early, wasn't she?” you state more than ask, a hint of bitterness edging your words. You glance at your watch, adding, “At 6:30 in the morning, no less.”

Wanda furrows her brows at your tone, as though she's on the receiving end of an unfounded accusation.

“She was on her morning run, dropped by to hand over a pair of shoes from her club's sponsor. Nothing more,” she explains.

You snort, "Sounds awfully convenient."

Rather than entertain your skepticism further, Wanda redirects the conversation elsewhere. What you presume about her and Valkyrie is the last of her worries right now.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” Wanda asks, her voice a little unsure. When your eyes meet hers, Wanda sees the signs of sleepless nights and a certain emptiness that paints a clear picture.

You and Yelena are done.

And it's breaking you. Her heart aches, even knowing that you're now, technically, available. She never wanted this for you. And she can't help but feel that she messed up your happiness once again.

“I just... I needed to see you,” you admit with a half-hearted shrug. “Looks like you didn't waste any time though.”

“Valkyrie and I are just friends,” Wanda insists, the edge of her patience beginning to fray.

“You seriously think I'll believe that?” you shoot back.

Wanda heaves a sigh, exasperation seeping into her tone. “Believe whatever you want, Y/N. Doesn't change the truth.”

“She was wearing your shirt.” you highlight, not quite ready to drop the issue.

“She spilled coffee on herself. I gave her a clean one. That's it.”

“And I'm supposed to accept that at face value?” you challenge, an eyebrow arched skeptically in her direction.

“Yes, you are!” Wanda says firmly. “Because it's the truth. I wouldn't lie to you.”

I wouldn't lie to you. Her words reverberate within your skull, playing on repeat like a broken record.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? You're not sure whether you can still believe her.

“Y/N, please,” Wanda's plea rings out, sounding lost and desperate. She isn't even certain what she's asking for. What she does know is that you're teetering on the edge of a breakdown, still reeling from the pain of your breakup. 

You don’t look like you’re in the right mindset to talk about what you’re going through. About how you both left things. And as much as Wanda wants to figure this out with you, she can’t do anything if you’re not willing to trust her.

“Wouldn’t lie to me?” you repeat, your voice laced with sarcasm and a painful sort of humor. “Alright, let's put that to the test, shall we?”

Wanda's throat tightens. She's unsure where you're heading with this.

“Yelena and I broke up. She left me that same morning,” you start off casually, as if discussing the weather. “Because she deserved better. Because I am, as it turns out, selfish and deceitful, right?”

“No–”

“You said you wouldn’t lie to me.”

Wanda's mouth snaps shut at your words, a sense of finality creeping into her. “...yes,” she admits quietly.

Slowly, you advance towards Wanda, your steps intentional and calculated. She remains rooted in her spot, refusing to back down.

“Do you feel happy that Yelena and I have broken up?” you ask.

Wanda looks hurt by your question. "Y/N, no, of course not–”

Your stoic expression tells her you're not buying it.

“Do you regret our kiss?” you probe, stepping closer, until Wanda finds herself backed against the wall. You lean in, foreheads almost touching, your dark eyes daring her to lie to you.

Wanda takes her time to answer, but when she finally does, her expression is resolute, as though she's trying to prove a point to you. “No, I don’t regret it,” she murmurs, her words a mere breath against your lips. Wanda looks so taken by the hungry look in your eyes that she fails to see what comes next.

The kiss this time is a stark contrast from the last. There’s an edge of danger to it, almost like the kiss that started Wanda’s downfall that culminated in a near-death experience, the kiss that was punishing and every bit of the hatred you harbored for her. 

But there's also a desperation to it–as if you're sinking and this kiss is your lifeline; a frayed, ragged lifeline that could only be the one to pull you back to the surface. 

As Wanda's head hits the wall with a soft thud, a pang of concern breaks through the haze of your fervor. Swiftly, you slide your hand between her head and the hard concrete, cushioning her as the urgency of your kiss escalates. Wanda almost sobs at the subtle tenderness behind your action, the considerate gesture leaving her somewhat taken aback, considering the harsh exchange you'd had just moments before.

No, this is nothing like your previous encounter.

You're not biting down to break skin. Your fingers aren't pressing into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. Your tongue isn't demanding or invasive, it's simply there, matching her rhythm and intensity. Wanda is unable to do anything but moan under you and rub her thighs together to relieve the pressure that’s building there.

Yet, you still don’t let her touch you. You don’t let her fingers venture up your stomach from under your shirt. Instead, you catch her hands, lacing your fingers through hers, and pull her arms above her head. All the while, your lips deftly trace a path down her throat. It’s soft and wet and so utterly delicate–everything Wanda thinks she hasn’t earned.

Nothing prepares her for the moment your hand makes contact with her core, even through the fabric of her shorts. She realizes just how much you’ve been holding back when you cup her forcefully, groaning from the heat and dampness that hits your palm.

If this means what Wanda thinks it means, she doesn’t want it to happen against the wall of her living room.

“Y/N?” she whispers raggedly in your ear, feeling the heel of your hand starting to grind against her clit. 

“Yeah…?” you moan against her heated cheek as your fingers slips beneath her panties and find wet, wiry curls.

“Fuck–” Wanda whimpers at the contact. “B-Bedroom, please.”

Following her lead, you hoist Wanda up and her legs instinctively coil around your waist. She directs you towards her bedroom with verbal cues, realizing you're far too engrossed in lavishing attention on the skin just above her breasts to care about bumping into furniture. Your hand drifts up her back, finding the clasp of her bra and skillfully unfastening it.

And then no words are spoken at all after that.

***

Wanda stirs awake near noon, realizing that she's skipped her therapy appointment. Instinctively, her hands reach out to the area beside her, expecting to feel your warmth. However, she is greeted only by the cool sheets of the bed, the space vacant.

You're gone.

While she had been lost in dreams where she had a second chance at the life she yearned to have with you, you had quietly dressed and slipped out of her apartment, leaving no trace or note behind. You had vanished as silently and swiftly as a dream at daybreak.

Wanda arches her back, mimicking the languid stretch of a cat, the resulting pops of her spine easing the tension more than the action itself. The sex was… phenomenal. She couldn’t think of a better word to describe it.

When a bit of the afterglow wears off, she is haunted by a question: What happens now?

More importantly, are you coming back? Or is this a one-time thing for you?

With a weighty sigh, Wanda allows herself to collapse back onto the mattress. Doubt creeps in as she begins to question whether her decision to let this unfold was the right one. After all, you’ve both been down this path before, sex was not a magic remedy that mended everything. 

What she couldn’t deny, however, is how gentle you were with her. You were making love to her, and nothing could sway Wanda from this belief. It sparks a tiny ray of hope within her that perhaps this time, you're ready to give her another chance.

Maybe, just maybe, you're open to trying again.

Yet, the vacant space next to her feels almost accusatory. Wanda has never been fond of waiting. But it’s the only thing she can do for now.

After all, beggars can’t be choosers.

***

The call from her therapist comes at around nine in the evening. Wanda considers it a little unprofessional, given the late hour, but she supposes that Calliope sees at least a dozen patients a day. Truthfully, she’s been anticipating this call all day, especially after she deliberately skipped her session to–

A soft snore escapes from your half-open mouth, drawing Wanda’s attention momentarily.

–spend time with you. Wanda can’t explain it, but she’s afraid to bring this up to Calliope. And she knows that if she sees Calliope or talks to her, it would open the floodgates and everything will come rushing out before she can stop them.

She's missed two calls now, but the phone in her hand vibrates again and Calliope’s name stares back at her.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda finally picks up.

“Hello, Wanda?”

“Hi,” Wanda replies, aiming to sound cheerful.

Calliope wastes no time getting to the purpose of this call. “You missed this morning’s session. Did something happen?”

Wanda's gaze drifts to you, sleeping soundly, your hair a mess as it spreads out in every direction. The sheets have slid down, exposing your bare back in a manner that makes her want to abandon the call and join you.

“Oh, uh... I just got tied up at the cafe. Sorry for not informing your secretary,” she hastily lies.

“So, everything's okay then?”

“Yes,” Wanda confirms, her eyes never leaving you as she replies honestly this time. Calliope seems satisfied with that and proceeds to book a slot for Wanda two days hence before ending the call.

You open an eye at her lazily, your voice muffled by the pillow as you ask, “Who was it?”

“No one,” Wanda says without batting an eye. “Just a supplier for the coffee shop.”

Your response is a drowsy murmur, your face sinking deeper into the pillow as you pursue the lingering traces of Wanda's scent. A smile tugs at Wanda's lips at the innocence of the gesture, despite the fact that you’re very naked under the covers. She hadn’t anticipated she’d see you again so soon, moreso that she’d sleep with you again right away when she does. But you had showed up unannounced, yet again, and casually asked Wanda if she'd eaten dinner already. Wanda had barely gotten the word ‘yes’ out, before you’re urgently reaching out and snatching her into a hungry kiss.

And then it was all lips and touches and her coming into your mouth three times until she had to literally cover herself with her hand just to get you to stop. 

Wanda's cheeks warm as she surrenders to the memory of your fervent reunion from only a few hours prior, but your sleep-laden murmurings, muffled as they are by the pillow your face is buried in, yank her back to the present. She chuckles lightly and perches herself at the edge of the bed, drawing a line along your back with her fingertips, raising goosebumps along the path.

"Can you repeat that?" she prompts, massaging your neck.

You lift your head slightly, your eyelids still heavy with sleep. “I said–do you need me to go?”

Wanda shakes her head, even though you can't see her. “Let’s just sleep,” she whispers.

Wanda gets up to remove her shirt over her head. Then, she slides back under the sheets and curls up against you. She presses her bare body to your back, fitting herself perfectly against your shape. Your warmth seeps into her, filling the cold spots that your absence had left behind.

Wanda notes that this is the first time you’re willing to stay since before you found out she cheated on you. She closes her eyes and allows herself to drift away. If you’re staying, then there's an opportunity to talk about this tomorrow.

***

Leaving a slumbering Wanda behind is not easy. You have to gingerly disentangle yourself from her grip to avoid waking her up. Initially, sleeping with Wanda was not part of your plan, but seeing her with Valkyrie had stirred a sense of jealousy within you that led to a powerful desire to claim Wanda as yours.

And so it kept happening, again and again–like a drug you just couldn't shake off.

You haven't really thought about what it all means. To be honest, you've been actively avoiding it. A week of overthinking has left you stuck at a dead-end, feeling numb and desperate to feel something, anything at all.

And in all this, Wanda is the only one who seems to fill the void, the only one who doesn't make you feel so alone.

***

“Dr. Williams?” Pietro says hesitantly as he picks up the call.

“Hi, Pietro. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time,” comes Calliope's voice, clear and loud.

“No, I was just–did we have a scheduled meeting that slipped my mind?” he inquires, wondering about the suddenness of this call. 

“We didn't,” Calliope assures him. “I'm actually calling about Wanda. Have you had a chance to speak with her recently?”

Pietro doesn’t like the sound of this. “No, I haven’t. Is she okay?”

“She missed her appointment this morning without notice. It’s the second time in a row. And I just got off the phone with her… she was deflective.”

“I'll check in with her,” Pietro promptly assures, before adding more softly, “Should I be worried?”

“She has agreed to meet me on Tuesday,” Calliope replies, deftly skirting around his question. “So, it may not be a pressing matter. I apologize for disturbing you.”

“No problem at all, Dr. Williams. Feel free to call anytime.”

As the call ends, Pietro is left alone with his thoughts. His mind is whirring with worry for Wanda, and he sits there for a moment, lost in thought. With a sigh, he places his phone back on the coffee table, a frown etching itself onto his face.

Feeling restless, he picks up his phone again, fingers swiping the screen with a certain degree of nervousness. His gallery opens up, a collection of countless memories frozen in pixels. He scrolls through it, stopping at a particular picture that still haunts him.

It's a hard image to look at, a memory of a particularly painful day. But he keeps it, just in case he needs it, a ghost hiding in his phone.

He knows, if push comes to shove, he has this to fall back on.

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta | @secretbackrooms | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez | @justyourwritter69 | @stanolsevans | @aliherreraaa | @diaryoflife| @justagurlwholikes | @lizziesplant | @cowxpoke | @sokovianbaby | @swiftie1-0-1

[cosmicdream222]

An interview with a shifter who has been “time leaping” since 2001

I found this website of an interview with a Japanese shifter known as Mr. Kanda. He figured out how to shift back in time when he was in middle school - he calls it “time leaping”.

The original website is in Japanese and can be found here.

Mr. Kanda was born in 1986, and around 2001 failed his high school entrance exam. Due to his intense regret, he shifted back in time to repeat middle school. He then made multiple time leaps repeating certain years of his life, studying different subjects in high school and pursuing different careers. At the time of the interview, he says he has lived about 70-80 years of life.

I translated some of the most interesting parts below.

Note: a Tulpa is a phenomenon that’s like an imaginary friend that actually becomes a sentient separate consciousness from you. It’s an entirely different rabbit hole, so you can just think of it as a dream character to understand his story.

My notes are written in [brackets].

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Mr Kanda’s First Time Leap Story

Kanda: When I was meditating on my futon, I started to have a lucid dream.

At that time, Tulpa talked to me and said, "If you raise your clarity to the maximum in your dream, wouldn't it be possible to time leap, or even move around the world?" I tried it, but no matter how much I increased the clarity, it still felt like a dream.

So Tulpa said, "If you get absorbed in something you like, you won't be able to hear the voices around you, and your focus will gain momentum. You will eventually forget that you’re dreaming," so as a result of playing in the dreamworld, I spent about a week in a dream without knowing it.

At that time, I suddenly realized, "This is a dream", but I had already completely forgotten the feeling of the original world, and the dream world had become my new reality.

After thinking about why I didn't come back even though I realized it was a dream, the answer I came up with was, “It's because I completely lost my sense of the original world.”

To explain it another way, wouldn’t it be disorienting if I told you that the person you are right now is in a lucid dream of another person? That’s what it was like for me. My dream had actually become my reality, and I forgot about my old reality.

Q: What was the reason for your first time-leap?

Kanda: I think because something bad happened and I wanted to pretend it never happened.

The first time for me was probably a coincidence/accident. In fact, when I tried to do it again, I couldn't, so I started practicing with time leaps through lucid dreaming and meditation, and I got better at stabilizing and controlling them.

When people can’t do something, they hate it, but when they can do it, they love it. So once you succeed, even just once, your faith increases, and you know you can do it again!

Mr. Kanda’s Lucid Dreaming Method

Mr. Kanda recommends lucid dreams the most as a time-leap method. This is how he does it:

Before you go to sleep, first visualize in your head where you want to go. Then lie on your back and meditate. When you fall asleep, the images you were thinking about will run through your dreams. If you shift your consciousness to yourself in the dream, you will be able to act without being aware of what you are currently dreaming about.

In normal lucid dreaming, you become aware that you are dreaming right now [known as DILD or dream-induced lucid dream]. When trying to time-leap, the important thing is how much you can act in the dream in a way that is consistent with reality. He says it is important to “improve your clarity” to the point where it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore.

Mr. Kanda seems to be able to suddenly enter into a lucid dream from the moment he begins to sleep, [WILD - wake induced lucid dreaming] and he also teaches us how to do so:

First, relax.

In Kanda's case, he darkens his room 70 minutes before going to bed and drinks hot herbal tea. Adjust the temperature in the room to a comfortable level, then listen to some calming music. It's better to feel a little tired.

Once you get into bed, visualize and replay strong happy and positive memories in your mind. When you feel happy, close your eyes and calm down all at once and enter a meditative state.

Mr. Kanda recommends mindfulness meditation. Don't think about anything, just focus on the sound of your heart and breathing. When you successfully fall asleep from meditation, you are conscious but your body is asleep, and lucid dreaming begins.

Kanda meditates for 20 minutes every morning, not just when he wants to lucid dream. According to him, “conditioned reflexes” [creating habits] are important. By repeatedly performing a certain action, one eventually becomes able to enter that state without even trying.

 

Q: If the ‘you’ from another world were to time-leap to this world, what would happen to ‘you’ now?

Kanda: There seems to be a misunderstanding: there is only one consciousness.

Reality changes depending on where we place our consciousness in a world of infinite possibilities.

I do have consciousness in my other reality, but from the perspective of me in the current reality, it seems like I don't have consciousness.

In other words, my life in this other reality is as if it were controlled by a computer.

Of course, the same can be said for us. From the perspective of another reality’s consciousness, we too live our lives as if controlled by a computer.

In the end, even if consciousness from another reality shifts, the consciousness we see is always here. So no matter what they do, it has no effect on us.

[merbear25]

Snake bites (Monster!Law)

Despite being married to each other, there were still ways Law surprised you, not all of which were pleasant. The village had fallen on hard times, forcing him to take up being a huntsman in hopes of keeping the two of you well fed. Even with word of snake parasites lurking in the Forbidden Forest, Law took a risk only to get burned. How you wished you were welcoming your husband home that day.

a/n: This is a trade for @karusenka! It’s so exciting to do a trade like this, honestly. Thank you so much for suggesting it! I hope it lived up to your expectations!

CW: NSFW! MDNI! Monster AU, Marriage AU, fem!reader, angst, noncon, vaginal penetration, creampie, horror themes. This is based on the snake parasite from bloodborne but of course, I took some creative liberties to change some things.

The slight bite of cold nipped at your nose, reminding you that winter was creeping in. Fluttering your eyes open, they fell on Law’s sleeping form; his features were peaceful, as if the stresses of everyday life never phased him. A weak smile spread on your face as you went to brush his disheveled hair off his forehead, accidentally stirring him awake.

With a deep sigh, he lazily asked for the time. Slowly turning over to your bedside, you wanted to savor this time with him, for such sweet and gentle moments were becoming less and less common.

You watched him while he left your side. Keeping yourself from calling out to him to return to bed just so you could spend a bit more time holding him never got easier; you understood that he’d give you the same begrudging excuse of ‘There’s only so much light in the day.’ Although true, the bleak reality never stopped you from wanting to be selfish every now and then.

Despite sacrificing parts of his freedom to cherish you like you deserved, knowing that you’d have enough food during winter was his sense of purpose: the purpose that kept him from staying at your side and that led him into forests in search of prey.

Looking over his shoulder, he gave you a faint smile before coming back to place a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I’ll be back by supper.” As his lips left the warmth of your body, he dreaded having to trek through the early onset of winter. The subtle sadness held in your eyes was making this morning particularly taxing for him. However, the thought of you going hungry snapped him back to his senses. While venturing out of the house with a brief goodbye, you were alone with your thoughts.

Even though there were supposed to be a couple of months before the first snowfall, frost had built up on the blades of grass surrounding the forest, and the leaves drooped from its added weight. Seeing a few of the other men helped relieve some of the weight they were all carrying on their shoulders: hunting in small groups would no doubt fare well for them if they crossed paths with predatory animals, or, as others whispered about behind closed doors, snake parasites.

Such rumors only poisoned the mind, though. There was no proof even alluding to some of those in neighboring villages having been picked off by these parasites. That being said, gossip or not, fear had already plagued the village which caused many men’s nerves to buckle under this added pressure. Adding this word of mouth to the threat of an early winter only made matters worse.

With a few rabbits collected and the sun already well past the midway point in the cloudy sky, many were beginning to lose faith that there’d be something of greater value hiding amongst those trees. But then, a rustling could be heard just some meters away. When a deer jolted out from behind a bush the men weren’t even facing its direction, all except Law. However, he still wasn’t quick enough; his bullets grazed the bark whenever the deer ducked and swayed out of the line of fire.

Whether it was the want of having a successful hunt or the panic of not being able to provide for the two of you, it was hard to say what drove Law to chase after the animal, but whichever it was carried his feet faster than he ever thought possible.

Single mindedness acted as a silencer, causing the group’s calls to fall on deaf ears. Deeper and deeper he journeyed into the depths of the hushed horrors that’d been passed around the surrounding villages. He knew the deer was outrunning him, so he acted fast when it ran through an opening between the trees. Taking the only chance he’d be given, he fired a bullet straight through its jugular.

Shrieks of agony sounded, calling out into the void of nature with gurgled chokes whose cries were only silenced by Law’s knife. Huffing while staring down at his much deserved prize, he looked around to think he’d catch a glimpse of the others behind him—only being faced with the tall trees. Mustering up enough strength, he slung his catch over his shoulders, clinging to the hooves on both sides of him.

Carefully backtracking, he nearly lost his footing when his attention jerked towards a snapping twig. With so much talk of monsters feasting on the disappearing villagers, one could only keep their imagination from wandering for so long. His eyes darted every which way it sounded from, trying to keep his breath calm and heart steady.

Easing up on his grip, that day’s prize slumped down to the forest floor. Pained soaked groans coupled with a large figure staggered towards Law. Gasping for air while the body swayed back and forth put Law further on edge. Not wanting to risk turning the situation into a chase, he cautiously backed away from the stranger. Slowly bringing his hand to his gun, the clarity of the risks were crystal: if he missed, there would be a slim chance of him escaping; but if he managed to hit it, it’d be severely wounded, giving him a decent enough shot at fleeing. With a sudden lurch, Law reacted by pulling the trigger—only blowing off a chunk of its shoulder.

Hysteric yelps entwined with sharp hissing seeped out of the foe while it writhed in agony. Being given such a small window of opportunity was all that he’d be offered. Turning to run from the scene, he witnessed the creature sprouting a new head—or multiple. A sudden crack and spray of blood coated his back, alarming him with the close proximity of the creature.

Piercing fangs dug into his flesh while scaly bodies swarmed him, tugging him closer to their host. His blood curdling screams were heard by no one, allowing this demonic presence to feast upon his purity in peace.

No matter how many times you looked out the window, there was no sign of him. The others returned hours ago, mentioning that he’d run off and they couldn’t keep up with him. Dread sunk in when thoughts of ‘what if’ reared their ugly heads. With dusk approaching, leaving him out there cold and alone was not an option.

Calling out his name wasn’t the safest route, but it was the only one worth trying if you had any hope in finding him. Having brought your lantern, you put off lighting it until it was completely necessary, although the falling sunlight on the trees blanketed you with unease.

Seeing something moving between the trees off in the distance, your woes momentarily subsided as you called out for your husband. Hurrying towards him, the thick leaves made it difficult to see, leading you to ignite your beacon of hope.

Holding the lantern up, it promptly fell to the forest floor as soon as you saw his clothes clinging to him, caked with crimson. Rushing to his side, your heart sank to the earth beneath your feet. You hadn’t seen his head prior. In simply panicking and dropping your source of light, you’d taken away your right to see what had been done to him, to your beloved husband.

Backing up too hastily, a tree root caught your ankle, leaving you sprawled out on the cold moist ground. Witnessing your dearly departed leer over you shattered your pained heart into pieces that could never be mended.

“Law, what happened to you?” Sobbing uncontrollably, your tears were the only things keeping your face warm.

It planted his feet on either side of you, jerking into a craned pose. Your breaths were rapid signaling to it that you were prey—too terrified to move.

When a hand hurtled to your side digging its fingers into the soil, your wince of fright irked it. Faint hissing reached your ear, leaking into your worst nightmares.

Unable to face it, you cowarded away, sealing your eyes in an attempt at imagining your loving husband being over you instead. Beaten down into submission, you were left helpless to the beast's other wandering hand: ripping at your blouse, clawing off your pants. Telling yourself that it was still Law gave you no peace of mind—the hissing and slithering bodies brushing against your exposed skin served as heinous reminders.

Pain spread across your vulnerable form only intensifying with each thrust. The audible sobs only stirred anger within the vessel, so you clamped your hands over your mouth to muffle them. With the bucking becoming rougher and more frantic, your sorrow seeped past your fingers, leaving your cries sharp and wet against your skin.

Guttural grunts that somewhat resembled Law’s could have made it easier to delude yourself into thinking that this was still him. However, when accompanied with the snakes coiling their bodies around your arms and legs and flicking their tongues against your nipples and clit, such fantasies were demolished.

Your body was being dug further into the soil, dirt sticking to your sweat kissed flesh, all the while your ability to shed any more tears was being stripped away. Risking a glance at your ill-fated lover, the glow of the lantern illuminated his human body. In spite of the fact that it was paler, sicklier and coated in blood, it still resembled him. 

With your tear stained eyes on it, the pace grew more rigid, possessive even, making you squirm underneath it. Blood beaded around the opening of your abused slit as you braced yourself for what you’d been fretting.

Each unforgiving jerk pumped you with its abominable seed, mixing with your blood to create an unholy elixir. Having finished with you, the shell of your husband reeled back, leaving you to sort through the trauma it’d just placed on you.

Swelling with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you eased yourself back up once you were sure it was far enough away. Practically crawling back to your home, you locked all the doors and windows before limping into the bathtub. The soap burned each of your cuts, having you recall the ways they’d been inflicted on you.

You knew you’d never be able to scrub that night’s events off of you. They’d be etched into your memory for as long as you lived, but you held onto that last ounce of faith that you wouldn’t be burdened with mothering a crime against nature.

[bluebird-in-a-cagedrawing]

Nightmare AU part 25

Amstran the moon dancer:"This day was something, looks like a storm will come soon, i will contact Dandelion the white flower and the others tomorrow, i miss my family too, maybe we can take a break."

Felix Reddison: "Yan-naifu the ghost have already brought the herbs, i will send for someone to bring the oils."

Red the fortune teller:" How are you feeling dear sister? Does it still hurt? I should take her home, this can't go on."

Amstran the moon dancer:"It's late, we should get some sleep, tomorrow we will see how we can help Felix Reddison and the funeral... On the other hand Red the fortune teller, i know how worried you must be, i want to see my family too, see how the situation is in the real world but we have to postpone for now."

Nishya the dream cat:"I will not stay aside, stop treating me like a child Red the fortune teller! I am in this just like every one here, i can do this!"

Faith the head rabbit:"Listen here stop arguing, it won't help us, we made progress till now, i am with Nishya the dream cat on this one, we need all the help!"

Hester the photo marksmen:"Well, good night and sleep tight, i need my energy!"

Luna the moon demon:"What a horrible night, i can't even hear my thoughts..."

Hester the photo marksmen:"Yes, this is usually the weather, everybody is afraid of storms, the powerful ones."

Staran the galaxy man:"Can't sleep? I'm worried for many things too you know...Itwill be alright!"

Lumboo the light ghost:"Why is everybody awake at this hour? Go back to bed and oh, i want to ask you not to use the electricity use a candle, those storms are not pretty and i dislike to have to double work after them tomorrow. Good night!"

Yan-naifu the ghost:"Breakfast is ready, Faith the head rabbit could you please tell the rest to come down, we have lot's of work today!"

Red the fortune teller:"Nishya the dream cat isn't coming for breakfast, i want her to stay in bed, i will do her tasks as well."

Sky Coeur the detective:"It is alright if i will take some food for Nishya the dream cat as well, i would like to read the newspaper amd think about our new move in silence."

Lumboo the light ghost:"There isn't much in the newspaper only i read that another girl went missing, Acrylia the sour candy, poor her, she only was 13..."

Lumboo the light ghost:"Oh, great... I dislike the storms, looks like it affected the west part of the motel, i will need some new lightbulbs with sockets as well, i just saw two that was almost melted."

Felix Reddison:"Looks like the power cables was cut too, it might be that the electricity pole was affected too... Things like this happens almost all the time! It's a nightmare with this weather."

Staran the galaxy man:"Well, me and Hester will go in the town to buy what is needed, if that is alright with you."

Yan-naifu the ghost:"Oh, and buy some snail pasta and jelly slugs , we just run out of them."

Panel 6

Polestar the star sprite:"Oh, hello, new customers, how can i help you?"

Staran the galaxy man:"We are looking for a shop that has snail pasta..."

Polestar the star sprite:" That would be the next shop around the corner on the left.I wpuld love to show you and your friend around here."

Hester the photo marksmen:"That would be nice but we don't want to bother too much, plus you are busy."

Polestar the star sprite:"Yes, i sell herbs and medicine, old cures...and so on."

Red the fortune teller:"Are you coming too, Nishya the dream cat? You should stay here with Le souris bonbon neige to guard you till we come back."

Le souris bonbon neige:"Funerals are not my thing, i really don't want to see all that sadness it's heart breaking, poor Felix Reddison."

Yan-naifu the ghost:"Are you all ready? Five more minutes, the rest are already at the door, hurry up...!"

Polestar the star sprite:"I've heard about this, i'm sorry i brought some flowers and some scented chopsticks."

Staran the galaxy man:"Hope you don't mind bringing a new friend from the town."

Felix Reddison:"Oh no, i don't mind at all... Excuse me now i have to check on her father... Iwas wondering if i would keep her crown, she loved this so much, i bought her this but..."

Sky Coeur the detective:"You don't want to keep it because it's too paintful, we get it."

Felix Reddison:"Thanks you guys for being here, it's a long funeral... That is why it's a nightmare, i don't know what to say... I'm trying to be strong!"

Amstran the moon dancer:"We are here, take your time, sorry for your lost!"

Faith the head rabbit:"Life is too short, but i know you made her happy even if we didn't know Jenna Heart for a long time."

Luna the moon demon:"You made her happy, that's important, i know you look after her and loved her as well... Jenna Heart showed me some old photos."

...

Part 1 till 24:

So, to explain, the lover leave the first white flower near the grave not on the grave, the bords of the thumbstone is always a shade of red if not red red, they let special candles on the grave... And the rest is a short ceremony.

[bullet-prooflove]

ATF!Series Part Two: Fucked - David Hale x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989@hatersaremymotivators@bennykk@kelpies-shed

ATF Series:

Part One: A Rabbit You Don't Want To Chase - Stahl makes an unwelcome return to David's life.

You and David have plans for the summer. You think about them as you recline naked on a chaise lounge in Simone’s art studio, one arm above your head, your face tilted towards the painters.

You’ve been accepted into San Franisco Art Institute’s Accelerator Program over the summer, which means you’ll be spending eight weeks on campus learning from the best the country has to offer. At the end of the course there’s an event where the artists enrolled get to showcase their work to industry professionals. It’s a way of being discovered, of taking your art to the next level.

David’s going to drive you up there next month. The two of you are going to spend a couple of days sightseeing before the program starts. He’s booked off a few weekends throughout the duration, made reservations at a hotel so you can spend a little time together in the city before you come home.

San Franisco is a dream that you never envisioned for yourself. When your professor had given you the application you didn’t think she was serious. It was a competitive program, it was unlikely you’d get a place even if you did apply so what was the point? It was David that changed your mind.

“You’re so talented.” He had murmured, his lips ghosting across the line of your jaw as you straddled his lap, his fingers untying the knot on your silk robe. “I have every faith in you.”

You’ve never had a man say those words before, they’d been more of an aphrodisiac than you cared to admit.

When the letter had arrived announcing your placement, he had brought home a bottle of champagne and spent the entire night licking the bubbles from your body. You try to distract yourself from that thought because the last thing you want is to get wet in the middle of a session.

When you tune back into your surroundings you find yourself meeting the eyes of the woman across from you. She’s new to the class and the way she looks at you, it’s predatory.

It’s after session that she approaches you. You’re standing in your cotton kimono, sipping from a teacup while she leans against the counter alongside of you. You freeze when she reaches out, her fingertips tucking a loose strand of hair back behind your ear.

“You are very fuckable aren’t you?”

“Sorry honey, you aren’t my type.” You tell her as you pull away, she dogs your steps until you disappear behind the mango wood room divider so that you can dress.

“I know.” She says from the opposite side as you step into your panties and draw them up your thighs. “You have a thing for cop uniforms and leather kuttes.”

You pause for a second before pulling on your sports bra.

“Special Agent Stahl.” You presume.

“Ah David told you about me.” She says, sounding pleased as you tug your jeans up to your hips.

“Only that you like to be called Mommy when you’re sucking dick.” You respond and there’s silence for a moment before she pops her head around the screen.

“You know he was fucking me an hour ago.” She tells you, watching with appreciation as you raise your arms to pull on your shirt. “I’ve still got his come dripping out of me.”

You give her a bored look because you know there isn’t a chance in hell that David stuck his cock back in that beartrap.

“Careful.” You say as you lace up your ankle boots. “Your desperation is showing.”

“I get why he likes you, you know?” She says, leaning back against the desk Simone uses for her admin. “I bet you’re just a firecracker in the bedroom.”

“Is there a reason you’re here or are you just trying to figure out ways to piss off David?” You ask her as you sling your slouch bag over your shoulder.

She shrugs her shoulders.

“It’s an added bonus.” She tells you before crossing her arms over her chest. “I want to talk about someone else we have in common. Jax Teller.”

“Old news.” You say as you search through the contents of your bag for your phone. “If you’re looking information you’re in the wrong place. We fucked for a month almost a year ago.”

“Do you know if he was carrying  a gun during that time?” She asks you, picking up a fidget spinner Simone leaves on her desk for Juice to play with.

You see the path that this is taking. Jax is on parole for a weapons charge. If Stahl finds a witness that says he has a gun, they can get a warrant to search the clubhouse. Jax goes back to prison, the Sons do an investigation of their own. You’ll be the first place they look and what comes after that…

You don’t want David caught up in that crossfire.

“No.” You tell her and she sighs, setting the fidget spinner back in its rightful place before meeting your gaze.

“Fine.” She says reaching into her purse and removing a set of handcuffs. “I’m arresting you on conspiracy to commit vandalism.”

You couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d drew back her fist and punched you in the face. She snaps the bracelet on your wrist before turning you around to face the wall.

“A year ago you spraypainted a five foot dick on Jax Teller’s house, causing a crime spree that went on for weeks and cost the town thousands in property damage, anything over $400 dollars makes it federal. The charge comes with up to a year in jail, fines and restitution.” She tells you as she cinches the cuffs so tightly that they bite into your skin, already your fingertips are starting to tingle. “If that doesn’t stick I’m going to call your art school and that shitty little summer program in San Franisco and tell them your affiliated with a known, violent gang so that future you’ve been looking forward to you can kiss that goodbye.”

In that moment your entire world collapses. Everything you’ve worked so hard for, it’s gone in an instant.

“Tell me is Jax Teller really worth all this?” She asks you, her breath ghosting in your ear. There’s a purr in her voice as she presses up against you, she gets off on having all the power, you remember David telling you that when he described how fucked up their whole thing was.

For you this isn’t about Jax, it’s about him. It’s about what happens when the Sons come for you because David, he will fight to his last breath to protect you and you can’t stand the thought of that.

“Fuck you.” You snap and you can practically feel Stahl’s smile against your skin.

“I think you’re the one that’s about to get fucked.”

Love David? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[kamotecue]

Katie mccabe fluff ???

her favorite constellation ★ k. mccabe

pairing: katie mccabe x reader

summary: in which katie mccabe is listening to the love of her life ramble about her favorite constellation, having a soft smile on her face as she listens.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

you were one of the smartest people your girlfriend has ever known, and one of the things she loves about you is when you ramble about things you love. the way you’d get so excited talking about the stars and the constellations, it always made a soft smile appear on her face.

“then, out of all of the stars or constellations you’ve mentioned love, which one is your favorite?” katie asked, you gave her a soft smile. you were in the middle of your backyard, a blanket was placed on the floor, with a picnic basket that contained a few snacks.

you looked through the telescope as you tried to locate orion, when you did you gestured katie to come closer which she did. she saw the outline of a person, who had a sword or a bow?

“that is the orion constellation, love.” you said, as katie hummed paying attention to you.

“tell me more about it?” katie asked, as she grabbed your hand playing with your fingers as you chuckled at her actions.

“the constellation that you saw is orion, it’s named after a hunter in greek mythology. it’s located on the celestial equator and is made up of bright young blue giants and supergiants, if i’m not mistaken.” you said, as katie looked at your eyes, and she saw you it sparked making her soft fondly at you.

“it is one of the most prominent and recognizable constellations in the sky and can be seen throughout the world, unlike some constellations that can be seen in a certain place.” you continued, as she intertwined your hands together, her thumb caressing your hand.

“are you listening?” you asked, just to confirm as she gave you a nod, looking into your eyes.

“according to one of the greek myths, he led a tragic life that ended when he stepped on a scorpion.” you heard katie chuckled as you looked at her with a confused but yet you understood why she laughed.

“don’t blame me, love it’s just what’s been told. continuing, the gods felt sorry for him, so they put him and his faithful dogs, canis major and canis minor, into the sky as constellations. the gods surrounded orion with celestial animals for him to hunt, like lepus, the rabbit and etc.” you gave katie a soft smile as she returned it.

“he was said to be in love with merope, one of the seven sisters known as pleiades, however she didn’t want anything to do with orion. the gods placed him into the sky forever chasing the pleiades, but never reaching them.” you said, as she scoffed at the ending.

“so he’s just going to keep chasing her, and never actually get the girl? what a load of bull-“ you placed a hand to her mouth as you felt her smile.

“that’s one of the stories, however we should head inside. it’s a bit chilly and i want some of your cuddles.” katie laughed, as she got up giving you a hand to which you accepted.

you spent the whole night watching one of her favorite movies, cuddling on the sofa.

[dungeon-meshi-tournament]

Now that the Seaworthiest Ship in the Dungeon Tournament is finished, I'll make a funny comments post probably either Thursday or Saturday (busy week) and take a weeklong break afterwards. If staff haven't nuked my account for being a trans woman, I'll run a new tournament after that.

I hit 1000 followers on this blog during the preparation of the tournament that just finished. As I've announced, I have a plan for a tournament to celebrate it. It will be the Favourite Anything in the Series Tournament.

The idea is as follows: You guys submit stuff you like from the series, I put it all in a giant bracket, and then I run a tournament with that bracket to determine the ultimate favourite thing from the series. You can submit anything you like: Characters, monsters, dishes, outfits, ships, scenes, or anything else. You can submit as many things as you like. You can submit a picture along with your favourite anything if you like, and if you don't I'll just pick out a nice picture for you.

Update: Submissions close Sunday February 25th, 10am Central European Time. I'll ignore anything submitted after that.

Update: Submissions are now CLOSED. Any submissions made from now on will be ignored.

Things submitted so far:

Mayjack Chils Speculative biology Chapter 87 Chapter 95 Elf Senshi Warm Succubus milk Laios' autism Veggie scraps conversation Bath scene Marcille undoing her hair Senshi's Golem gardens Senshi's pantyshots Farcille Golem Chilchuck being divorced Fluffy Falin / Dragon Falin Italian Marcille Halfling Senshi Laios' creature drawings Izutsumi's sleep review Izutsumi and Yaad Laios' dog impression Young Senshi Senshi of Izganda Marcille's failgirl violence Kuro Namari's leg obsession Chapter covers Daydream Hour Izutsumi (Izutsumi) Senshi's mithril cooking knife Fullertom Chils Chimera Falin Chilchuck with a Fish-man head Falin's fangs Chilchuck's future plans Mithrun slapping Kabru Thistle's hairstyles Ambrosia Dungeon master Marcille Chimera Laios Laios' ultimate monster Chilchuck and Senshi's friendship Falin beating a monster with her staff Laios the Murderer Kabru's eject button Handsome Senshi The party asking everyone to help eat Falin Izutsumi being cat-like Theme of life, death, and consumpton Final chapter Falin's soul dragon Winged Lion Frog suits Mithrun getting manhandled Senshi's cooking equipment Marcille walks right into that Kabru's eyes Chapter 72 cover Mithrun of the House of Kerensil Thistle's diary of poems Inutade Fleki & Lycion Kabru's flustered face Daltian clan Mithrun's teleportation Chilchuck braiding Marcille's hair Laios consuming the Winged Lion Kabru loving drama Baby Delgal and Thistle Moe Thistle Chapter 47 cover Baby Kabru Marcille leaning on Laios' corpse Race swap panels Winged Lion eating desires "They let me milk a Minotaur!" "Now just keep that to yourself" Tallman Mithrun "That's not normal, Laios" Senshi's cooking explanations Laios being a good boy Studio Trigger anime Chapter 88 Characterisation / Character dynamics Falin's staff Senshi's journal Hippogriff soup scene Senshi's favourite food Changeling race swap Chilchuck making Izutsumi's backpack Half-foot union Kabru's goal Marcille and Chilchuck's matching purses Namari of Kahka Brud Leed Laios and Senshi's situationship Living armour biology Ogre designs Dungeon rabbit Winged Lion being cunty Touden party catching frozen Falin Marcille getting dressed for a cold day Marcille Donato Marcille's Dungeon rabbit dance Basilisk biology Elf queen and dwarf king communicating Marcille face Marcille covered in blood Namari's arms Demon's relation to desires Izutsumi and Marcille in the Golden Kingdom Laios liking elf ears Izutsumi drawings Healthy lifestyle advice Shapeshifter copies Izutsumi and Laios in the sauna Chilchuck's faithfulness proven by Bicorn Izutsumi comforting Marcille Chapter 47 cover Let's take iboprofen together panel Izutsumi Marcille's breakdance Chapter 65 cover Manipulative girlfriend Kabru Friends' reaction to the series Picky eater Izutsumi Kabru taking care of Mithrun Chapter 60 cover Kiki getting caught sneaking in Laios' reaction to sashimi Laios eating the Winged Lion's desire Kabru & Mithrun shapeshifter scene Otta's thing for Half-foot women Marcille's bird familiars Falin's dragon bulge Kabru deciding to murder Laios Thistle being carried like a backpack Izutsumi's heart attack Blushes Walking mushroom Medieval manuscript stylisation Chilchuck Tims Unicorn Eyes of the magician Food shots "What kind of person is he?" Orc sweat Ogre Marcille Marcille's love of seagood Stoned Fleki Pipi Mithrun and Cithis' friendship Dragon designs Chapter 73 cover Expression artstyle Demon breaking free Chilchuck & his daughters Halloween costumes Exorcism sorbet Marcille's pouty face Falin, Marcille, and Namari's outfit swaps Laios' dream page 1 Laios' dream page 2 Laios' dream page 3 Fullertom and Packpatty preparing to woo Laios Laios riding Kelpie Falin eating Chimera Kaka & Kiki going to gnome festival Chilchuck beating up Laios Senshi bread scene Reactions to Laios' funeral wishes Mermaid Dryad

Bloody Dungeon Lord Marcille Elf queen Demon grape form Laios' monster cape Golden Kingdom Falin with her eyes open Izutsumi diving into soup Persisting injuries Frog shoes Pattadol's crush on Marcille Marcille and familiars' POV split Marcille's hairstyles Yaad hugging Thistle Laios holding Falin's skull Elf queen lounging Laios and Marcille's relationship Union man Chilchuck Mithrun crying over purpose Laios' euphoric face Dragon kitchen page Unforgivable Dungeon Meshi Chilchuck's freakouts "That makes us more serious about this than you" Falin and caterpillar Chilchuck dating sim "Don't worry, we'll manage somehow" Chilchuck's grey hairs Werewolf monster tidbits Falin's birth comic Falin eating rabbit curry Mandrake-plucking dogs Marcilel jostling Laios' head with her staff Treasure insect sandwich Undine fight Nutritional value charts Laios caressing Big bat bones Horror Spread pages Winged Lion "Go in the dark" image We just fed her an emoji Falin feeding her soul dragon Characters in modern clothing Kiki's crush on Namari Kiki teasing Namari

Senshi squinting Gnome vs Elf magic Demon eating Mithrun's desires Zon's son Chapter 44 cover Touden sibling dog naming fights

[dayque]

The night before Robert's funeral, Alec enters and rushes to the bathroom to wash off the blood before the children notice it. Magnus tells them what happened as sensitively as possible, but the children were too young to understand and Maryse and Isabelle were trying to stay stable so that Rafa and Max wouldn't see them devastated. Once Alec came out of the bath, he sat on the couch, his children were playing with Tavvy in front of the fireplace as if nothing had happened, Isabelle, who was crying in the kitchen with Simon, came out to the living room to hug him as hard as she could.

Alec had not cried since he returned home, his sister needed him, his mother needed him, his children needed him, and although he felt his sister's tears soak his shirt and his eyes burned from having cried in the Gard and seeing the fire without blinking he doesn't cry.

A few hours later Mark and Hellen appeared at the door, everything seemed to be happening very slowly, as if it were a dream, the children came out to say goodbye to Tavvy, but Alec didn't pay much attention. He was sitting there touching Izzy's hair, telling her that he was still with her and would never leave, like the days when their father would leave for weeks and she would be devastated waiting for him, until one of those times she lost faith that he was. came back. Surely he would now never return...

It's time to sleep, Magnus has Max on his chest, they both sleep on the couch, and Alec takes Rafa in his arms to take him to take a bath and get into bed. With his pajamas on, Rafa is watching Alec come and go, confused, as if something had been lost, first he couldn't find the hairbrush, then the storybook and now he is looking in the suitcase for the stuffed rabbit that Rafa usually sleeps with. He can't stand his curiosity any longer and asks "Daddy, why is everyone crying except you and bapa? Even uncle Simon was crying."

Alec sighed, took the rabbit from the suitcase, and sat on the bed next to Rafa where he had made a space for him. Without much desire he told him "When I was little, maybe your age, adults told me many times that children couldn't cry, and now no matter how much it hurts I don't know how to do it," Rafa was silent, he looked at him with his big black eyes and told him "if you want I'll teach you" hugging his stuffed rabbit tightly as an explanation he told him "first, you have to hug something you love very very tightly and then you have to sigh loudly taking out a lot, a lot of air through your mouth."

So Alec took his little son in his arms and hugged him tightly, enough so that his scent stuck to his pajamas and to his memory. He didn't know if he was doing well as a father and he was horribly afraid of looking like his dad, most of his childhood had been spent in fear and his entire adolescence was a complete martyrdom, his father became the cruelest judge and at the same time In the person he loved most in the world, he really wanted to please him and he had the impression that now he would never achieve it. The last years with him had undoubtedly been the best, and it was unfair that when his father finally loved him back, they had taken him away from him without giving him time to show him that he was a great son and everything he was able to do.

So he cried, on behalf of little Alec who needed a dad to hug him, on behalf of the teenager who he could never cry even though he was terrified and in pain, and on behalf of the adult who had lost a father today. He snuggled his sobbing son, he didn't seem to care that he was taking up much of his bed, and promised him with a kiss on the forehead that he would continue practicing how to cry so he could be a better dad.

"I'm proud of you, daddy", Rafa said in a murmur before falling asleep.

I hurt my own feelings with this scenario in my head and now I want to cry in company

Sorry for my grammar and spelling, have a nice day:3

[diamondperfumes]

Culture is a central aspect of Dany's arc. As such, it is a central feature of interpretations of her character, whether such interpretations are positive or negative.

The majority of ASOIAF fans dislike Dany's relationship with culture. What I find interesting, however, is that ASOIAF fans end up rejecting Dany's place in every culture she's part of.

Dany was born on Dragonstone, and immediately fled to Braavos when Rhaella died. When Viserys and Daenerys were forced to leave the Sealord's Manse, they traveled through the Free Cities: Lys, Myr, Tyrosh. Dany speaks Valyrian with a Tyroshi accent/dialect. Six months before the events of AGOT, Viserys and Daenerys land up in Illyrio's manse in Pentos.

Dany unequivocally adopts Dothraki culture as her own. She worships the Dothraki Horse God, speaks Dothraki fluently, wears the hrakkar when she wants to be comfortable, prefers her Dothraki riding leathers, painted vest, and medallion belt to the Meereenese tokar (and wears such an outfit when she wants to project strength), wears bells in her hair, considers Dothraki funeral rites for her own eventual death, loves horse riding, and sees herself as part of the Dothraki land. She is a Khaleesi of her own Khalasar, and also foreshadowed to be the Stallion who Mounts the World.

Dany spends time in Qarth, recovering from the perils of the Red Waste, figuring her leadership style out as a beggar queen, before she is kicked out of the city. There she meets Quaithe, who recurs as an ambiguous guide and mentor in her arc. She also receives various prophecies from the Undying, before they try to devour her. Xaro becomes an ally, and then enemy, and she learns important lessons from him. She gets her three-headed dragon crown, wrought in jade, ivory, and onyx, from the Pureborn of Qarth.

Dany conquers Slaver's Bay, moving from Astapor, to Yunkai, to Meereen, before ruling Meereen as Queen. She tries to free slaves and abolish slavery in each city. She wears the Meereenese tokar, speaks Ghiscari in court, marries Hizdahr zo Loraq in the Meereenese fashion, re-opens the fighting pits, trains her child hostages as cupbearers, and tries to be the "queen of rabbits." The bulk of the exploration of her leadership style and ideology is in Slaver's Bay.

Dany wants to reconquer Westeros on behalf of the Targaryen dynasty, and idealizes Westeros as a beautiful land. She names the habitat Drogon carves out for himself as Dragonstone.

Dany longs for the house with the red door and lemon tree. The two places she admits to being happiest in are Braavos (the house with the red door) and the Dothraki Sea. She once wanted to be a sailor. She has dreams of living a simple life with Daario. She also wants to be queen.

Dany speaks Ghiscari, High Valyrian, Tyroshi Valyrian (and likely other Valyrian dialects, like Pentoshi Valyrian), the Common Tongue, and Dothraki. She worships both the Faith of the Seven and the Dothraki Horse God. She has a connection to R'hllorism. She's lived in various Free Cities, the Dothraki Sea, Qarth, and Meereen. She's been through the Red Waste, Vaes Dothrak, Astapor, and Yunkai.

ASOIAF fans reject every one of Dany's relationships to these locations and cultures.

She is considered entitled, and imperialistic, for wanting to reconquer Westeros. Most theories of her dying center around the futility of conquest, the violence of House Targaryen, the selfishness of holding on to its name, the fact of her exile, and even that she is "foreign" to the land and culture. Many point out that she doesn't know "anything" about Westeros, that her father was Aerys II, that her family are "oppressive conquerors," and that her family lost the throne. Some will come up with convoluted reasons to claim that Jon Snow or Young Griff are ahead of her in the line of succession (so the throne belongs to a Targaryen, just not her). She won't "respect" Northern independence, Dornish independence, Ironborn independence, etc.

She is considered violent, tyrannical, and a threat to Westeros because of her connection to the Dothraki. She is accused of being an enabler of slavery and rape for being Drogo's wife, and then a she-Khal. The stallion who mounts the world prophecy is used as "proof" that she will go mad, or that she will burn Westeros to the ground in her conquest. She is accused of romanticizing Dothraki culture. She's blamed for what happens to the women of the Lhazarene village, particularly Mirri. Phrases such as "she is a white woman whose arc is propped up by the suffering of women of color/characters of color" are usually located here.

Dany is accused of not really caring about slavery because "she didn't do anything about it in Qarth," and stayed in Xaro's manse as a guest.

At the same time, Dany is seen as a white/Westerosi character "imposing her foreign/Western values" upon Essos. She is accused of "trying to civilize" Dothraki culture and "appropriating/mimicking" it. The phrase "white man's burden" is usually thrown around here. She's accused of raping Irri, her arc being built on Irri and Jhiqui's suffering, and the Dothraki being painted as "savage" for her own trauma. She is mocked as naive and ignorant for not appreciating the beauty of Qarth and wanting to return to Westeros in spite of being there, accused of being unfair toward Xaro in expecting an alliance from him, accused of being a cultural imperialist for burning down the House of the Undying.

Her time in Slaver's Bay receives the lion's share of the critique. She ruins its political economy. She destroys the region. She profits from slavery while claiming to be antislavery. She causes the freedmen to face poverty, violence, murder, rape, and suffering. She doesn't do enough against rapists and looters. She chooses fire and blood over the Meereenese peace, which is seen as a negative. She colonizes Slaver's Bay. She is like the US in Afghanistan or Iraq––invading for selfish reasons and then leaving, causing a rightwing insurgency to grow. She commits war crimes by torturing the wineseller's daughters and crucifying 163 Great Masters of Meereen, leaders of the city.

Yet the irony of this is captured in how people criticize her presence in Meereen: she is accused of ruining the city as an imperialist and is then criticized for wanting to sail away to conquer Westeros. So essentially, she has no place in Meereen, but she is also a bad person for wanting to leave it for Westeros.

As a Targaryen, and a Valyrian in general, her presence is seen as oppressive to both Westeros and Essos. Westeros because of the Targaryen conquest, Essos because of the legacy of the Valyrian Freehold. She's criticized for being "allies" with Illyrio Mopatis, a slaveowner, and people theorize that Braavos will hate her for being a Valyrian with dragons. Yet she is also criticized for not resettling in the house with the red door (presumably in Braavos, no?) and instead wanting to conquer Westeros. She is "too stupid" to appreciate how "beautiful and advanced" Essos is, and too focused on idealizing Westeros, but she is also too Westerosi/white/foreign to Essos.

In other words, for ASOIAF fans, Dany does not deserve to belong to any culture. Seeking a place in Westeros means that she is entitled, selfish, privileged, and oppressive. Being a Dothraki Khaleesi means that she simultaneously romanticizes slavery and is trying to civilize brown people. Conquering Slaver's Bay is an act of imperialism from a Western tyrant seeking resources, but leaving Slaver's Bay is an act of imperialism from a Western tyrant fleeing a war they started. Staying in Qarth means that she romanticizes slavery, but not fitting in there and idealizing Westeros means she is like an American tourist in the Global South, who cannot appreciate the real value of where she is in favor of a backwater Global North (Westeros). Being Valyrian means she is inherently responsible for slavery, and thus does not belong in Braavos or Westeros, but if she lives in Qarth, the Free Cities, or conquers Slaver's Bay to abolish slavery, she is trying to make Old Valyria rise again. She ruined Meereen and will burn Volantis, but she will also burn King's Landing and maybe even Sunspear.

If I ask ASOIAF fans what culture she belongs to, or which continent she should be part of, doubtless I will get multiple answers. But those answers will end up contradicting themselves. The reality is that these are not scattered rejections––the people rejecting Dany's place in each culture will, at different times, reject all the places Dany occupies in said cultures. Someone who on one day says Dany is a backwater white person who can't appreciate the beauty of Qarth will on the next day claim that she is reviving the violence of the Targaryen dynasty upon Dorne and the North by planning to invade Westeros. Someone who will wax lyrical about how she is a white woman whose arc is built on the suffering of women of color, and thus that she is a Nazi, or white supremacist, will on another day call her a rape enabling slave profiteer for being Drogo's wife and a Khaleesi.

Perhaps this is the natural conclusion of a character who is intentionally written as stateless and homeless. A nomad, an exile, a diasporic teenage girl, who longs for various "homes" and has different ideas of "home" in her head. But what does it say about ASOIAF fans that they reject her relationship with every culture? They don't want her in Essos or Westeros. We don't know what's west of Westeros, as we never hear the outcome of Elissa Farman's voyage. Doubtless the same fears people have of Dany living and thriving in Essos or Westeros would apply to any lands west of Westeros too. So where do they want her? There is an answer to this, which only a few ASOIAF fans are honest enough to admit: that Dany should have died in childbirth, or on the journey to Braavos, or on the Dothraki Sea, as Illyrio intended. Sadly, most ASOIAF fans are not brave enough to admit that their rejection of Dany's various cultural "places" is actually just a disguise for their dissatisfaction at her existence in the narrative.

(Whether or not that dissatisfaction is merited, whether or not it is motivated by genuine, "progressive" literary reasons, is another conversation. ASOIAF fans are indeed free to be upset about her presence as a character, or to theorize that she will be a villain because of her cultural statelessness. Right now, though, this post focuses on the question of "what culture could Dany be a part of without being a threat." The answer, for most ASOIAF fans, seems to be that Dany, child of storm, was born a threat to the entire world of ice and fire).