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angelicyoongie · 11 months

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lovesick (XI)

— pairing: yandere ot7 x (f) reader — word count: 4.6k — warnings: yandere, stalking, obsessive behaviour, other content that may be triggering. — summary: You dreamed of the day you would get your very own soulmark. Though, you didn’t expect to wake up to a searing hurt in your arm, the phantom pain of your shoulder being dislocated and your forearm fractured. As if dealing with the worst possible soulmark ever wasn’t bad enough, you also have to come to terms with the fact that you’re being stalked. When the letters and gifts you receive begin to escalate and the police offers no help, you have no other option than to figure out who’s behind it yourself – and hopefully before it’s too late.

Previous – Next

You rest your head on the back of the couch, staring out at the snowflakes that drift to the ground one by one. The trees outside are blanketed in a thin layer of snow, white powder clinging to barren branches. Time has moved quickly yet all too slowly since you were brought here, the days blending into nothing. Judging by the weather, you think it must be late November by now. You prefer not to ask – without the finality of an exact date, it's easier to pretend that you haven't been here for over two months.

There's a soft hum going throughout the entire cabin, portable heaters working overtime to keep the chill out. Seokjin must've bought out an entire store with how many there are scattered around, the first one already appearing the day after Namjoon brought you back. The heaters have been added one by one with each passing week as the temperatures have continued to drop and you're honestly amazed that the old cabin can even handle such a high energy consumption. You do sometimes wonder how Jimin has explained away the no-doubt skyrocketing electrical bill, but considering no one has come to check it out; the station clearly doesn't find it all that suspicious.

You shiver instinctively as the wind howls, the thin windows fighting against the frost that's beginning to cling to them. The crackling fireplace can't keep every room warm, not anymore, but it still gives the common room a little boost of coziness, a little extra warmth whenever the wind picks up outside. You're not actually cold but that doesn't stop the arm around your waist from pulling you back, plastering you against Taehyung's chest.

Seokjin didn't lie when he told you that they would be watching you around the clock.

Your personal bubble is constantly invaded, the chilly weather being the perfect excuse for the boys to cling to you like a second skin. Some part of you is always being touched, regardless of whether you like it or not. They like to pretend it's just to 'keep you warm' but you can see the thinly veiled threat for what it is. This is their way of reminding you that they don't trust you – that you've brought all of this upon yourself.

"What are you thinking about, babe?" Taehyung mumbles sleepily against the back of your neck.

"Nothing special," You say, the words tumbling out easier than you'd like. "I'm just not looking forward to how cold it's going to get up here."

"Hmm," Taehyung's mouth flutters over your skin as he tightens his grip around your waist, "You don't have to be worried, Y/n, I'm sure we can come up with lots of ways to keep you warm."

You can't remember when your skin stopped crawling at Taehyung's flirty remarks.

Maybe it was after those two weeks he and Jimin had been banned from the cabin – their own personal punishment for pushing you too far. You didn't think much of it, didn't care about how they fought and yelled about how unfair it was. You were still trapped, so what difference did five or seven hovering soulmates make? After all, the two of them had set you up, ruined your plans, so it felt like a small victory that their actions actually had consequences. Taehyung and Jimin didn't cross your mind once while they were away. So why, why, did you feel like you had missed them the day they returned?

It was like a switch had been flipped in their absence, one you couldn't turn back off. Ever since that night you let yourself be held by Seokjin, something had happened. You could no longer find the energy to flinch or frown when they reached out to touch you. Their sweet words and love stricken gazes didn't garner the same disgust as it used to. It was like the fight had been drained out of you. You were so tired of feeling scared, angry, hopeless, so you simply just... stopped.

Something in you finally gave up that night and decided it was time to accept your fate. It was easier. It hurt less. And so you've slowly been coming to terms with it, with this, ever since.

You sink into Taehyung's embrace as he lays back down on the couch, your head on his chest and your legs tangled together in the cramped space. He lets out a content breath at the way your body relaxes into him, at how you hold on to him like you want to be there.

Small patterns are drawn on your back as you listen to the steady beat of Taehyung's heart. A wooden log crackles and fusses as it breaks apart, sending small embers floating into the burning flames. You never expected that you would ever end up here, feeling uncomfortable and yet somehow, undoubtedly, safe in one of your stalkers' arms.

It should make you horrified, repulsed, after everything they put you through, but you can't help the way your soul sings at the close proximity. Being around them is starting to feel right – and you're no longer sure how much of you, the real you, will be left by the time the soulbond truly settles.

It doesn't matter how much you hate it. You can't do anything to change it as long as you're stuck here, with them.

You stare at the flickering flames, releasing a shuddering sigh.

Maybe... Maybe your next life will be better.

That's the only comforting thought you allow yourself to have.

"Can you pass me the salt, sunshine?"

You wordlessly hand the shaker over to Hoseok, watching as he only adds a little dash to the dough he's mixing up. His arm flexes as he combines it all into a firm ball, strong hands making quick work of the rather heavy dough. After you let it slip a few days ago that you were craving cookies, Hoseok decided to make it his mission to bake you some. The amount of dough he's mixing up would have been enough to feed you for weeks if you were alone – but since you're currently living with seven men who can eat their own body weight for breakfast, lunch and dinner – it might just last you two days if you're lucky.

Leaning your hip against the counter, you bite your lip as you continue to watch Hoseok work.

There is a question you've been burning to ask him, that you feel like you need to know before you can fully accept your new reality; how did he find you?

While the other boys have told you of their own volition, Hoseok still hasn't mentioned it. You know he first saw you at that fundraiser but that doesn't explain how he managed to figure out your name or address. You had barely worked at Filter for a month when the event happened, so it's not like any of the other vendors knew who you were. The booth for the café was listed under your boss' name and you weren't wearing a name tag, so how did he do it?

"Take a picture Y/n, it'll last you longer," Hoseok grins as he catches you staring at his profile.

"Huh? N-no, I–" You stammer, eyes widening as you realize you must have zoned out while you were thinking.

You're momentarily saved from your embarrassment as Yoongi peeks his head into the kitchen, hair windswept and his cheeks flushed from the cold.

"I got you what you asked for from the store," He announces, showing you the plastic bag in his hand.

"Thank you, Yoongi," You don't fight the soft smile that settles on your lips, your heart fluttering treacherously at the sweet grin you get in return.

"Anything for you," He mumbles shyly as he leaves the bag by the kitchen entrance, cheeks a little pinker than before as he goes back to the common room.

Your eyes jump from the plastic bag to one of the kitchen shelves just above it, gaze getting caught on the familiar black box that's perched upon it. The sight of it still makes something sour explode in your stomach. The contents inside are the whole reason you ended up here in the first place and you hate that you have to look at it every day. You've weighed the consequences of getting rid of it once or twice, of tossing it into the fireplace and watching the kaleidoscope of coloured letters burn into nothing, but you just can't find it in yourself to do so. Even if you'll never be able to use it, it's still evidence.

It's not the only thing that's been collected from your apartment, either. The mantle above the fireplace is decorated with a few of Taehyung's postcards and some of Yoongi's lyrics are framed on the wall alongside pictures Seokjin snapped of you. They must've removed all their gifts and letters to cover their tracks shortly after they took you. You're not sure why they felt the need to bring them here but you're sure that they have some twisted explanation for it.

You can practically hear Jimin's voice saying 'we got you such nice gifts baby, why shouldn't they be on display?' whenever you look at them.

"Hyung is such a softie," Hoseok chuckles, his voice bringing you out of your thoughts.

You make a sound in agreement, shifting your weight nervously as you watch him finish up the dough. He carefully adds a pile of chopped-up chocolate, working the pieces into the firm mixture.

As Hoseok pops the bowl into the fridge and moves over to the sink to wash his hands, you clear your throat, finally blurting out a rushed, "Can I ask you something?"

Hoseok hums under his breath as he scrubs his skin clean, taking his sweet time as he leaves you waiting for an answer. You barely catch the quick flicker of his gaze on your neck, eyes lingering on the bare skin that's visible above your sweater before he turns back to shut off the sink.

"Sure," He agrees, eyebrow quirking as he reaches out for a towel to dry his hands, "I'll answer your questions if you promise to do something for me afterward."

You swallow thickly, uncertainty prickling at the back of your skull. You have no idea what kind of favour Hoseok will ask of you in return, but you're too curious to pass this chance up.

"Okay," You nod. The gleam in Hoseok's eyes leaves you a little unsettled but you need to know the answer to your question.

The fridge buzzes loudly in the beat of silence that passes between you. Hoseok leans against the counter, crossing one ankle over the other as he gives you an encouraging nod. "Ask away then, sunshine."

"I want to know how you found me, how you figured out where I live," You breathe, your pulse kicking at the flash of surprise that passes over Hoseok's features.

"Hm. That's a rather unexpected question but you'll get your answer," Hoseok says, pursing his lips.

"I first saw you at the fundraiser, you know that. I wanted to approach you, offer to drive you home to make sure you were okay after that bitch touched you–"

Hoseok utters the word with such venom it makes the hair on your arms raise, "–but your friend beat me to it. Heejun, was it? I couldn't just leave you, not after finally finding my soulmate, so I decided to follow you."

Your heart squeezes at the mention of your best friend, longing filling every inch of your chest.

"I wanted to make sure that you got home safe. I actually tried to approach you a few times after your shifts at Filter but something always got in the way, and you slipped away before I had the chance to introduce myself," He sighs.

"After a few weeks, I felt like I had missed my window but I couldn't just give up, not when I had finally found you. So I figured there was no harm in continuing to watch you from afar, making sure you were safe while I figured out how to break the news to you. By the way, your building isn't all that safe, sunshine, I got ahold of your apartment number just by asking one of the old ladies who were having a smoke outside."

Hoseok shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he wasn't part of the problem that made your apartment unsafe in the first place.

"I thought giving you letters and gifts was romantic, that it would make you curious about who your secret admirer might be – that you would feel happy to know there was someone out there who cared for you," Hoseok gives a flat chuckle. His eyes are stormy as they flick over to the black box, "But it turns out I was doing the opposite. I can't believe Tae managed to influence the bond that much."

Hoseok seems surprisingly upset about how things played out, like he actually thought he was doing something nice.

You give a small shrug, knowing that there's nothing you can say to lighten the mood. Even without Taehyung's influence, Hoseok still took things way too far – he was the one who decided to drug you, after all.

"Did that answer your question, Y/n?"

"Yeah, thank you," You murmur.

Although it still makes a burst of fear flare up in your chest every time you think about what they've put you through, it's nice to finally know exactly how Hoseok did it. Although it's too late to do anything about it now, there is some solace in finally getting an answer to one of the many questions you've had ever since the first envelope showed up.

"Now for your end of the deal," Hoseok says, nimble legs already carrying him across the kitchen, "Stay here for a second, sunshine, I'll be right back!"

Hoseok is only out of the room for thirty seconds tops before he returns, one hand hidden behind his back. He watches you carefully as he presents a familiar flat squared box to you, dark eyes drinking in every minuscule detail of your reaction.

"Oh, that's–"

Your voice tapers off as Hoseok opens the box, revealing a necklace you've seen before. It's one of the jewelry pieces he gifted you alongside his letters, one of many you had stashed away under your bed to forget about. The golden chain is attached to a small, dainty sun pendant, the design simple yet clearly expensive.

You have seen this necklace somewhere else before too, though. Your gaze flickers up to Hoseok's neck as you're hit with the memory of your first visit to his shop; of how you noticed the chain that slipped out of his shirt as he assisted you.

It's the exact same design.

"They match," Hoseok confirms as he gently takes the necklace out of the box.

Couple necklaces.

You give him a weak smile, "That's very, um, sweet."

"Isn't it?" Hoseok looks fondly down at the piece of jewelry. "Will you turn around so I can put it on you?"

You do so easily, knowing that Hoseok could have asked you for something far worse in return for sating your curiosity.

Hoseok's breath hits the back of your neck as he steps closer, the warmth sending goosebumps all over your skin. You can almost feel the rise and fall of his chest as he brings the necklace around your neck, clasping it in place. The tips of his fingers skate across your throat under the pretense of fixing the chain, your breath hitching as a fluttering kiss is placed just below your ear.

"Fits you perfectly," Hoseok murmurs against your skin.

"Thank you," You whisper, swallowing thickly. You bring a hand up to touch the necklace, feeling how the pendant rests in the nook between your collarbone.

Hoseok hands trail down the outline of your body as he pulls back, squeezing your hips as he reluctantly says, "You can go join the others in the common room, sunshine. We need to wait a bit before we can bake the cookies and there's no point getting the other snacks ready too soon, the others will just hover it up."

"S-sounds good," You almost feel a little unsteady on your feet as Hoseok's touch finally leaves you. You flash him another feeble smile as you try not to hurry too quickly out of the kitchen, your hand moving from your gifted necklace to your chest.

Did your heart just race because Hoseok touched you – because he kissed you?

You halt in the hallway, in the one blind spot the cabin offers from the common room. Taking deep breaths to collect yourself, you will your heart to slow down. This is what you wanted, what you accepted would happen when you decided to give up, and yet, you can't help but feel a little betrayed by your own body.

It's only been a little over a month.

Just how badly is your soul craving them that you're able to give in so easily, so quickly?

"Y/n, darling, I saved you a spot next to me!"

You startle as Namjoon calls out to you, your thoughts slipping away at the sound of his voice.

"Not fair hyung, I saved her a spot too," Jungkook's pout is audible from your hiding spot.

Squaring your shoulders, you push down on the unease that seems to have made itself at home in your bones. After all, isn't this what you wanted; for things to be easier? Why are you still trying to fight it when you know nothing good will come of it?

"Just let it be," You mutter, defeated.

The smile you plaster on as you walk into the common room comes a little easier than before, doesn't feel as fake as it used to. You let yourself be pulled down on the couch between Jungkook and Seokjin, allowing them to fawn over you to their heart's desire.

You don't let yourself linger on the worrying thought that the constant attention is starting to feel nice, for very long.

"Is it too scary for you?"

You startle at the hushed whisper that brushes against your ear just as the heroine screams on screen. Turning your head to look at Seokjin, you find wide eyes staring back at you, his skin paler than normal. He flinches as another shrill yell comes from the TV, his already tight grip around your right hand only growing stronger.

"I'm okay," You murmur back, giving his fingers a light squeeze.

Seokjin visibly deflates at that, his uneasy gaze flickering back to the movie. You clear your throat to tamper down the laugh that wants to bubble up, finding Seokjin's false bravado a little cute. It's clear as day that he's terrified of the scary movie Jungkook chose for your movie night – even without the death grip he has around your hand. You've been feeling Seokjin flinch and cower at every loud sound so far, his body somehow halfway hidden between you and the couch. Still, it seems he doesn't want to admit that it frightens him when the rest of the boys hardly seem fazed by what's playing out in front of them.

"I'm a little thirsty though, do you think you could get me something from the kitchen?" You ask lowly, mindful not to disturb the others.

Seokjin's eyes snap back to you, relief flooding his features at the easy out, "Yes! I'll be right back." He doesn't waste another second before he practically leaps from the couch, the lights turning on as he hurries to the safety of the kitchen.

You flex your fingers with a small wince, skin tingling as blood is finally able to rush back into them. You glance around the room as you wait for the feeling in your hand to fully return, noting how absorbed the rest of the guys look. Jungkook's hold around your left hand has gone slack, his attention fully on the movie. Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung are pressed together on the other couch, a big bowl of popcorn half-devoured between the three of them.

The cookies you 'helped' Hoseok make earlier are almost gone, only a few of them left despite the double batch he cooked up. You quickly reach out to snatch up another one before the rest disappears, your gaze slipping over to Yoongi as you lean back on the couch. He's curled up on one of the chairs nearby, his eyes closing every so often despite the loud bangs and screams that fill the room.

The sight of Yoongi nodding off with his cheek squished in his palm is stupidly endearing, so you end up stuffing the cookie into your mouth to keep your smile at bay. You chew slowly, enjoying the slight crunch from the crispy exterior of the cookie and how the soft insides somehow manage to melt in your mouth at the same time. It's honestly a little unfair just how good it is.

As you swallow the last bite, you glance around the room, confused, realizing Jimin is nowhere to be seen. The previously occupied chair next to Yoongi is now vacant and he isn't sprawled out on the floor anywhere either.

Just as the thought strikes you, you feel the back of the couch dip, a figure gracefully jumping over the backrest to settle into Seokjin's spot. The sudden appearance startles you so badly that you let out a shocked noise, your hand covering your racing heart as Jimin makes himself comfortable. You have no idea how he managed to get to the back of the couch undetected or even why he decided to sneak around, but you've learned over the past month that there's no use questioning Jimin's antics. He simply just does whatever he feels like, when he feels like it.

"Sorry," Jimin grins as he leans closer, not looking very sorry at all. "If I made it too obvious that I was stealing Seokjin hyung's spot, the others would fight me for it."

You can't help the way you instinctively tense up as Jimin draws closer, some hesitancy still lingering after that night he caused you to explode. It has gotten easier over the past month to be near him, the constant forced proximity hasn't given you much of a choice but to grow closer to them. But Jimin has, surprisingly, been putting in some effort to make being around him a little more tolerable too. He's toned down his vulgar flirting and he no longer hovers and glares at you with suspicion whenever you interact with any of the others. It's still not great, but it is better.

Jimin's smile falters as you grow stiff. He lets out a small sigh as he decides to show you mercy and turn his attention to the TV instead of you, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. It isn't until you've gradually begun to relax again, preoccupied with watching the movie, that you lean back into the cushions, feeling Jimin's fingertips brush over your shoulder the moment you do. The touch is light and fleeting, barely even there, as he tests the waters of what you'll allow.

It's clearly an invitation for you to lean into his embrace but he doesn't push you to do it, doesn't force you like he would have a month ago. You think this must be Jimin's attempt at making amends – of him offering to do things at your pace instead of his.

He tentatively curls his hand around your shoulder when you don't pull away, fingers almost floating over your skin with how hard he's trying to not be overbearing.

If Jimin is putting in this much effort, shouldn't you be too? It'll only make things more painless.

Between one deep breath and the next, it almost feels like your mind blanks as you shuffle closer to Jimin, letting him tug you to his chest as his arm drops to your shoulder. He preens with satisfaction that you're allowing him to touch you, chest puffing as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead.

"Hyung," Jungkook whines from your left as you're pulled further away. His grip tightens around your hand, refusing to let go as he moves after you on the couch. He presses himself flush against your side, huffing as he pulls your hand back into his lap.

"Jungkookie," Jimin glances at him over your head, whispering out an amused, "Why are you holding on to Y/n so tightly, hm? You're not even scared."

Jungkook pouts in the return. "So what? I'm holding Y/n's hand in case she gets scared. I'm just being thoughtful."

Jimin snorts. He raises his hand from your shoulder to ruffle the back of Jungkook's hair, messing up his locks. Jungkook grumbles under his breath at the action but doesn't move to push him away, his head lolling comfortably back into Jimin's touch.

You smile at the cute moment, heart lurching at the ease and content air they have about them whenever they're interacting. They, along with the rest, are such good friends – made for each other, almost – that you often find yourself wondering if your bond is a fluke, if they were actually supposed to be soulmates without you. The theory doesn't feel too far-fetched, not when you see them interact like they're puzzle pieces falling into place, perfectly fitting together.

It only makes you miss Heejun and Jaemin more.

Biting your lip, you turn back to the TV, just in time to watch the heroine escape the house she's been trapped in for the past two hours. The monster she's been running from is left behind, roaring and pacing behind the windows as she runs into the rising sun. Your stomach feels heavy as a hopeful smile spreads on her lips, the horror she's faced almost forgotten as she moves closer and closer to her rescue.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as the camera pans back to the abandoned house before it fades to black, eyes shaking as it hits you that you haven't even thought about leaving the cabin for the last few days. It used to always linger in the back of your mind, squeezing your heart whenever you looked out the window and saw the freedom that was so close, yet so far away. But you can't recall a single moment lately where that was even a fleeting thought. Has being around them constantly really strengthened the bond that much, enough that you no longer feel the urge to leave?

You slump into Jimin's embrace, ears ringing as the others begin to stretch and stand up.

With each passing day, it's becoming worryingly easy to just sink into their arms and forget everything you tried to escape from in the first place. Has running away not crossed your mind just because it's been easier to not dwell on a future that's slipping further out of your reach – or, perhaps even more frighteningly, is it because you simply just don't want to anymore?

You stare blankly at Jungkook as he tries to whisk you away to his room for the night, gut churning as your mind runs circles around you. There is one question you can't shake, one you don't have a proper answer for;

Do you want to stay?

a/n: please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed the chapter -it means the world to me and makes writing all that much more fun! 💖

dun-dun.... it seems like our poor mc is really struggling with her soulbond :( what do we think about the different scenes of her hanging out with the boys? of her realizing she might actually want to stay with them? i'd love to hear your thoughts!!

(it seems like some of you are a little upset that the mc isn't fighting back more, but please keep in mind that this story was never supposed to be this long and y'all voted for smut, so girlie needs to at least like them before that happens lol)

see you again in two weeks for the next update on november 10th!

#bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere x reader #yandere hoseok #yandere jungkook #yandere jimin #yandere yoongi #yandere taehyung #yandere seokjin #yandere namjoon #yandere kpop

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tangyangie · 9 months

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𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 °❆⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

desc. their favorite winter activities.

notes. i wanted to wait to post this when it was snowy outside for me but that never came because it never snows anymore sobbing !!!1!11!!1!

anyways this is like a modern-ish au... i guess??

snowball pelters. as soon as you step outside, you're getting a load of freshly balled up snow—the powder having been turned into an extremely dense sphere—straight to your face. if that's not enough, you'll get some down your back, too. oh, how they just love to see your face cringe out of frigidity, squeezing your eyes shut and mouth so eager to speak, yet being unable to get a single word out. they'll laugh with no shame and taunt you, so your only choice is to take a snow shovel and bury them. see how confident they are then, being completely submerged in the white powder. they'll curse you under their breath (lovingly) and follow you around all day, refusing to not torment you by tossing messily made snowballs at you.

yelan, HU TAO, yae miko, WANDERER, heizou, cyno, TARTAGLIA, faruzan, eula, beidou, xinyan

snowman makers. they are the most adorable beings you'll ever see. so concentrated on getting the proportions of the snowmen right, even if they're not the best at it. they look at others' snowmen and get concerned that their own may be a little... unsteady. meaning, the head was too large for the body and was constantly falling over and destroying itself. with a frown, they'd be determined to get it back up on their own, (politely) refusing help. once they get the snowman to hold up long enough for them to go find some sticks, you'd fix it up for them. taking a little bit of snow off the top, adding it to the lower half, and reinforcing the bottom with some rocks covered in snow. once they come back with arms for the snowman, you innocently smile, sitting down in the snow as they eye you suspiciously, but smile and pat you on the head. do they know? ...you can't be sure.

XIAO, gorou, furina, kazuha, KOKOMI, albedo, collei, shenhe, ayaka, TIGHNARI, nilou, ganyu

hot chocolate drinkers. they cozily sit inside, watching their favorite re-runs as they sit on the couch. they watch the people freezing outside with a smug look, lazing around and doing absolutely nothing, wrapped in the largest blankets they could find. this is their... fourth? fifth cup of cocoa, and the bag of mini marshmallows they take from is quickly shrinking. honestly, they feel like a teddy bear with how warm they are. you've got no clue how they're not sweating and dying from the heat. their smirk makes you want to toss them out into the snow and watch them suffer, but they suffer enough when they accidentally spill burning hot cocoa on themselves.

lumine, LYNETTE, venti, kaveh, KIRARA, yoimiya, aether, ayato, MONA, xingqiu, lisa, yanfei

driveway shovelers. they are stuck outside all day, working on clearing the asphalt of snow. it's almost hopeless—the snow doesn't stop, so any of the driveway that gets cleared is covered again in only minutes (it's so tired...) and all that you're left with is someone who's extremely close to face-planting in the snow. honestly, they're probably hoping to get hypothermia—at least it'll put them out of their misery. but them, being the hard workers that they are, miraculously manage to finish shoveling, and join the hot chocolate drinkers after their time in hell, collapsing on the couch (and probably falling asleep).

DILUC, wriothseley, neuvillette, dehya, JEAN, keqing, CANDACE, zhongli, thoma, shinobu, noelle, mika

hill sledders. they'll bust through the door at the first speck of light, holding anything that they could safely use as a sled. honestly, they would sled on a shoveled pile of snow if there wasn't a hill, but they're determined to find a good place to sled. so, they'll drag you along, running around until you can spot some type of slope that'll get you faster than 1 inch per second. once you do, they're so excited they'd probably forget the sled on the way up. so, you're stranded at the top while they carefully slide back down to retrieve the sled. by the time they get back to the top, you're already unimpressed, but they manage to cheer you up. they sit you on the sled and push you down, hopping behind you and holding you tight. cause if they weren't, you probably would've been found sticking out of the nearby heaps of snow.

amber, NAVIA, lyney, fischl, ITTO, charlotte, xiangling, bennett (crashes into a tree), kaeya

sleepers. exactly what is sounds like. they will be BURIED in bed all day. not even a fire alarm will be loud enough to wake them up—they are completely knocked out. honestly, they wouldn't even realize it. they were just so cold when they woke up in the morning, so they didn't even bother to leave. they instantly fall back asleep, so the only way to wake them up is leaving them until they thaw in the snow.

ei, baizhu, chongyun, ROSARIA, alhaitham, ningguang, sucrose, LAYLA, freminet

notes. ngl winter would be the best season if it wasn't so damn cold 🤗🤗 it's soooo pretty IF IT SNOWS

also listened to beabadoobee's cover of winter wonderland at least 30 times today so go do that please

and i have never gone sledding before actually so if it sounds like that "𝖘𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖟𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖑𝖊𝖌𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖍𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖊" thing i'm so so so sorry

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lambtotheslaughterr · 4 months

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Rise : Finale

A Rafe Cameron Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.7k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | MASTERLIST

authors note*: don't come for my head. i did it for the drama.

Your body moved with the rhythm of the club music flowing throughout the party. Rush week had ended & you had been selected to join Alpha Delta Pi. It meant moving out of your stuffy dorm room & into the extravagant sorority house. Having been selected alongside you was a girl from your class who you had made close friends with. Her name was Millie & she was just as excited as you.

That night, you two dressed to celebrate & party all along Greek row. Even now, the two of you danced with one another, big smiles on your faces & alcohol coursing your system. At some point, after accumulating a good amount of sweat, you were going to head to the kitchen to get some water. You turned to ask Millie if she wanted any but when you had you were greeted by the sight of her dancing with another.

“What’s your name?” The guy yelled at Millie over the bass music.

“Millie!” She bit her lip, obviously smitten by his good looks.

“I’m Micah!”

The two of them danced & Millie looked in total bliss that you decided to leave her alone. Instead, you headed for the kitchen to satiate your thirst for h20. The kitchen was no different from the rest of the house—filled to the brim with people.

You managed to slither your away between other party-goers towards a chest in the corner. But when you opened it, all you found was cans & bottles of beer. Not wanting to get trapped in the kitchen much longer, you ended up deciding on a can of cider that had low alcohol percentage. It was still early in the night & you didn’t want to black out so soon. Until you got your hands on some water, this would have to do.

Exiting the kitchen, you were about to head back towards the dance floor in the main room when a door in the hallway busted open, hitting you in the shoulder. Your can of cider spilled to the floor & others around you boo’d at the action.

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” A guy said, the one who had been coming out of the bathroom, having hit you with the door.

You laughed half-heartedly, seeing it as a sign from the universe to just not drink right then. Instead, you glanced up at the guy & shrugged, “Just means you owe me another drink in twenty minutes.”

He smirked at that, “I can do you one better.”

“That so?” You cocked your head. He was cute. Frat boy cute for sure. You didn’t doubt he was a member of one of the frats on Greek row.

He gestured for you to join him in the bathroom. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him. You may have been a young & new freshman, but you weren’t naïve.

“Scared?”

You bit your lip at that. He was challenging you & you were never one to back down.

Giving him a playful sneer, you ultimately joined him in the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You watched as he locked the door. That should’ve alarmed you, yet it didn’t.

“So, what do ya got?” You questioned, your arms crossed over your chest.

The guy reached into the pocket of his unbuttoned shirt & revealed a small baggie of white powder.

“Only the best for Greek row residents.” He smirked, turning slightly away from you to pour some out onto the counter before separating & lining up the powder.

“Ever done it?” He asked. With the better lighting in the bathroom, you were able to notice then how high he was. His eyes were bloodshot & his hands shook slightly.

“No.” You admitted. There had been plenty of opportunities in the past to partake in the party drug, you just never did.

“Well?” He straightened then, offering you a rolled up fifty dollar bill, “It’s better than whatever crap you were drinking. I guarantee that.”

You pursed your lips in thought, staring at the coke on the counter. You had never been particularly interested in getting into drugs, even for fun, having been satisfied with drinking & smoking weed occasionally. But you were in college now. More so, you had been accepted to the sorority of your choice & this was a night of celebration. A night about embarking on new journey’s & trying new things. High school you & college you would be two different people.

Snagging the rolled up bill from the guy, you brought it to your nose & leaned over the counter. Instead of snorting one line, you did all three in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, holy shit.” He exclaimed behind you, an impressed smile on his face, “Hell fuckin’ yeah.”

You stood up straight, feeling the fine grains of the power in the back of your throat & how the chalky taste of the power began to make your mouth feel a little numb.

“Right on, dude.” He raised his hand for a high five, “A kindred spirit.”

You laughed at that, slapping his palm with your own.

“I’m Rafe.” He finally introduced, “Rafe Cameron.”

He looked at you with stars in his eyes but you were pretty positive it was the coke fueling his mind that was causing it. You smiled back up at him, “I’m _____ _____.”

“Well, _____ _____.” He slung his arm over your shoulder & peered at you in the mirror, “I think we just became good friends.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

You cracked your eyes. They were wet. You had been crying in your sleep. You were lying in a room you didn’t fully recognize. The window outside brought in the morning sunlight. A shudder racked your body. The events of last night flooding back to you.

Micah. Rafe. They had found you.

You felt so stupid. So fucking stupid to think they wouldn’t make it this far, let alone think to find you at the frat house. It was the last time you’d underestimate Rafe & his determination to possess you in every way.

Rolling over, you espied the rest of the room. It finally clicked on whose room you were in. You had only ever been in Rafe’s bedroom at the frat a handful of times. But you recognized it.

You were alone in the room so you sat up & as you did you winced. Your head pounded & your face hurt.

Memories of Micah’s fist returned.

“Asshole.” You whispered. Scooting towards the edge of the bed, you went to the window & looked out. Rafe’s bedroom overlooked the front yard & parked in front of the house was Sayyed’s wrangler.

They had traveled all that way just to track you down. It had taken you two weeks to get there, but Rafe & Micah only a day. How long had they been waiting for you? How did they even know to wait so long?

You should’ve never stopped. Should have kept moving south towards Tampa. Rafe didn’t know where you lived there.

It dawned on your then that Bear was in the wind. You would never see him again & you knew he wouldn’t come back for you. You couldn’t blame him. It was survival.

The door behind you opened & you slowly turned around.

Fear left you entirely. You felt your spirit & will weaken after the previous night. Rafe had won. There was no fight in you left.

Rafe closed the door behind him, staring at you expressionlessly. You returned it.

“How are you feeling?”

You said nothing. Felt nothing. Only remained standing there lifeless.

“I brought you something for the pain.”

Rafe crossed the room towards you. You watched him the whole time, your eyes never leaving him. He was standing just before you, holding a small metal tray. On the tray was white powder.

You looked back up at him.

He returned your stare, holding the tray before you.

With a flick of your hand, you knocked the tray out of his hand, coke billowed into the air before sprinkling to the floor near your feet.

Rafe sighed heavily, his eyes darkening.

“I’m trying to help you, _____.”

But you only eyed him unfeelingly.

He held your stare & the longer he did the angrier he grew.

“Fine.” His tone was hard, “Guess we’ll do this the hard way.”

A yelp escaped you when he fisted your hair in his hand as he dragged you towards the door. You wriggled in grasp, trying to lessen the pain but otherwise did not fight. Rafe slammed his bedroom door open before turning you towards the end of the hallway then he slammed open the door to Sayyed’s bedroom.

“I haven’t broken you.” He gritted out through his teeth, “But I will.”

With that he threw you down onto your deceased boyfriend’s bed. You rolled onto your back & glared up at him. Rafe seethed as he watched you lie fearlessly on the bed before him.

“You killed him.”

It took a second for you to absorb what he was saying. You killed who?

Rafe, with a growl on his face, bent at the waist to become eye level with you. He snatched the picture of you & Sayyed off the nightstand, practically shoving it into your face, “It wasn’t the virus.”

You felt yourself shake.

“It was you.”

“You’re lying…” You finally spoke, your voice hoarse. Unwilling tears clouded your vision as Rafe glared maddeningly at you.

But he only shook his head knowingly, a devious smirk lacking any merriment appearing on his face.

“You held a gun to his head.” Rafe stood up & reached into the backside of his pants, “Like this.”

The cool metallic feeling of the muzzle pressed against your forehead. You felt your heart quicken as your breathing slowed.

“And pulled the trigger.”

“No.” Tears fell as you glared up at Rafe, past the gun, “I didn’t.”

“Don’t you remember?” Rafe teased harshly, “Don’t you remember Sayyed telling you it was okay? That he fucking loved you?”

“I love you, _____.”

Sayyed’s face appeared before you in your memory. He was on his knees. A gun was in your hand. You stared at one another.

More tears burst forth from you as the memory returned like a long forgotten foggy dream.

“For Bear.”

“I can’t.”

“You can."

More tears burst from you as the memory surrounding your boyfriend’s death returned to you. The emotions you felt then returning with a vengeful spirit.

“I have nothing anymore.”

“You have me.”

“I love you, _____.” Sayyed looked into your eyes one last time.

“You.”

And then the trigger pulled.

“NO!” You screamed out as the memory came back fully. You jumped backwards on the bed as if you had shot him just then & there & the kick sent you flying.

“No, no, no!” You cried.

You killed Sayyed. Your face with a gun in your hand against his head was the last thing he saw, felt. You killed your boyfriend. Not the virus. Sayyed didn’t deserve to die. But you… you did. And with your memory restored, you couldn’t stand to live with yourself.

“I wanted to protect you from the truth.” Rafe’s voice sounded; you having forgotten he was even there. But it did nothing to comfort you. All it did was fuel your rage. And determination.

Flying towards him, Rafe was not expecting you to shoulder him hard enough to drop the gun. The gun barely touched the floor before you snagged it & raised it upwards.

Rafe barely had time to recover before he realized what you were doing.

“_____, no!” Rafe screeched, racing towards you.

You brought the gun to your head, your heart hammering to life.

Then pulled the trigger.

“What the fuck?!” Rafe screamed as he tore the gun away from you.

You screamed & cried as you fell to your knees.

Rafe spun away from you, securing the gun in his hold.

The safety had been on. The fucking safety.

“Are you fucking crazy?!” Rafe yelled, his heart practically pounding out of his chest as he rushed to empty the gun of bullets.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!”

But you could only cry & scream, filled with anger.

The door to the room burst open & Micah appeared. He stared wide-eyed between the two of you, “What the hell’s going on?”

“She tried to fucking kill herself!” Rafe threw the gun to the side as he paced back & forth.

You held your head in your hands, shaking & sobbing uncontrollably.

“You should’ve let her.” Micah mumbled. “Just like Kai did.”

Rafe jumped him then. He shoved Micah against the closest wall & had his forearm pressed against his throat, “Get the fuck out, Micah. Now!”

Micah shoved him off, glaring heatedly between the two of you before Rafe pushed him out of the room. Once it was the two of you again, Rafe turned towards you, his chest heaving.

“I can’t believe you would fucking do that.”

You continued to cry but finally glanced up at him, “You should’ve let me.”

“No!” Rafe yelled & he stomped towards you before harshly grabbing you by the upper arms, “You are never leaving me. Ever again.”

You glared at him, your face sneering, “I’d rather die than be with you.”

Rafe roared at that, throwing you back onto Sayyed’s bed.

“You fucking stubborn bitch!” He yelled.

You had no time to recover before Rafe was on top of you, tearing your clothes off you. He was a mad man.

“I will never be yours, Rafe!” You screamed as you fought pitifully against him. “You hear me!”

But Rafe only continued to fight against you as he got you naked beneath him.

“I will never stop trying to run, never stop trying to escape you, & I will fucking kill myself the second I have the chance to! I will never love you!”

Rafe hit you then, “Shut the fuck up!”

Your face flared with heat at Rafe’s assault.

Before you knew it, Rafe was between your legs, your wrists in either of his hands as he forced himself inside you.

You turned your face away, staring hard at the wall. But Rafe gripped the back of your head & forced you to look at him. He was thrusting harshly into you, his teeth bared & gritted as he glared furiously down at you.

You returned the glare ten-fold, steeling yourself against the pain that was blooming in your center & reverberating up your spine as Rafe raped you. There were tears in his eyes, mirroring your own, but they were not tears of anger. They were tears of fear. You had nearly killed yourself right before him. It was the first time you had seen Rafe Cameron scared.

And that’s when you knew how to punish him for everything he had done to you & your friends. Killing yourself had initially been for selfish reasons, unable to live with yourself after remembering that it was you who killed Sayyed. But you quickly learned one thing about Rafe Cameron that had been right before you all that time. You had the power. Not him.

The only way you could make him pay for what he did was to take away what he desired most. You.

And it would be an honor to kill yourself before him. You swore to yourself, yet again, that the moment an opportunity presented itself, you would make sure Rafe Cameron would witness his biggest fear. And you would die with a smile on your face.

That opportunity came in the most unexpected form. But it shouldn’t have been a surprise.

It was the middle of the night & you hadn’t slept a wink. Rafe had left you hours ago, coming to check on you every now & then. He had tied you to the headboard of Sayyed’s bedframe. The three of you would be leaving in the morning, going back to the mill where the rest of Rafe’s crew waited. Except for Kai.

Rafe attempted to break you down further by informing you that Kai had killed himself. You briefly recalled Micah having mentioned it earlier but thought nothing of it. You thought nothing of it still.

Kai, as sweet as he once had been, was weak. He was weak against Rafe & all the others. He stood by while Micah & Rafe tortured you. He was as bad as the rest of them. The only good thing he did was take himself out. You could not grieve for him. All your grief had shifted to rage & rage was all that kept you going.

So, as you sat there in the darkened bedroom, you stared mindlessly ahead. You thought of nothing except revenge. Thought nothing except killing yourself before Rafe’s very eyes. You were only disappointed would not be alive to see him lose his fucking mind about it. But he would. And that was all you needed to keep your eyes on the goal.

Footfalls sounded outside of the door & you prepared yourself for Rafe to appear. But it wasn’t Rafe. It was Micah.

He stood staring at you for a moment before he crossed over to the bed.

You could feel his hatred for you rolling off him in waves but it did not scare you. Micah may have scared you once before. But no longer. He was just Rafe’s lapdog. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yet, it was Micah who began to undo the ties around your wrists. You watched him as finished untying the knots before gripping your upper arm harshly & dragging you off the bed.

“Don’t even think about fighting.”

You weren’t. Micah, as dark as he was on the inside, was your golden opportunity. He would be your key to punishing Rafe.

Micah led you out of the bedroom & towards the stairs. You anticipated him bringing you to the living room or kitchen of the house where Rafe would surely be waiting, but he only led you out the back door. The rear lawn of the frat house was sizeable with a pool but beyond that was a small acreage of woods. That is where Micah began to lead you in the dark.

“I’ve dreamt about this for so long.” Micah voiced besides you as he led you over rocks & uneven soil.

“And now that you’re wanting to do to yourself what I’ve fantasized about forever…”

You said nothing. Where was Rafe?

As if reading your thoughts, Micah shared, “He’s passed out. Found an old stash of his roofie’s from our freshman days. Dropped one in his drink. Lights out. Had to make sure he was passed out cold before I could grab you.”

No. Rafe had to be there. You couldn’t let it happen until Rafe saw it with his own eyes. But you clearly knew why Micah couldn’t allow that. Rafe would kill him before he ever let Micah hurt you.

Micah was ruining everything!

You struggled against his grasp then & Micah gripped you harder, his fingernails digging into your skin, pinching painfully.

“Micah.” You breathed out, “Don’t do this. Not yet.”

“Not yet?” He guffawed at that, laughing half-heartedly though there was no amusement there, “You just tried to kill yourself & now you want me to wait.”

“Please, not like this. It can’t be like this!” You seethed out.

The two of you reached a small clearing then & Micah yanked you closer to him to glare down at you in the darkness. It was difficult to make out his features but you didn’t miss the deadly glint in his eyes.

“This isn’t about you, _____.” Micah spit, “I don’t give a fuck about any grand scheme you had to kill yourself. This is about what I want. Not you. Not Rafe. Me.”

Micah pulled out his gun then & placed it under your chin. For the first time in months, for the first time since the world ended, Micah smiled.

“Say goodnight, _____.”

“Goodnight.” You replied coldly before slamming your face against his.

Micah would not kill you. That was saved solely for you & solely for Rafe to witness. That was one thing you would make sure of.

Micah howled at your unexpected assault & reeled backwards. You quickly charged at him, uncaring of the gun. Though you had fucked up & missed the safety only hours prior, you hadn’t heard Micah click the safety off. This would be your only chance.

Using the full force of your weight, you tackled Micah to the ground. Had he been any muscular you wouldn’t have succeeded, but Micah had always been a twig.

A grunt forced it’s way out of his throat when he finally caught on to what was happened. He moved to raised his hand with the gun but you quickly sunk your teeth into his forearm, tearing a piece of flesh off.

“Ahh!” Micah wailed, “You fucking bitch!”

He hit you with the butt of his gun but your adrenaline kept you unfeeling of it as you quickly brought your thumbs to his eyes & sunk them in. Micah dropped the gun then, finally, as he screeched. You dug your thumbs further in, feeling his sockets squish around you.

Micah knocked you off him then & you fell to the side. Closest to the gun. He rolled to his knees, wiping at his eyes & you quickly snatched the gun before rolling onto your back to face him. He was facing you then. His eyes red & bloodied as he narrowed his eyes in the darkness.

“You fucking bitch, I shoulda killed you the first chance I got!”

Shoulda, coulda, woulda.

“Hey, Micah.” You breathed out firmly, clicking the safety off the gun.

He swung in your direction, his vision likely fucked after your assault on his eyes. He blinked rapidly as he focused on you in the dark.

“Say ‘hi’ to Millie for me.”

Then you fired three shots into his chest. Micah collapsed to the ground immediately. As he fell, you stood.

You continued to aim the gun towards him as he writhed on the ground in pain. Standing over him, you peered down at him in the darkness. Blood spurted from between his lips & coated his teeth & chin as he choked on his own blood.

Micah’s eyes glared up into your own. You could tell he was wanting to say something but was unable to. You simply stared back.

Then you pointed the gun at his face & fired five more times.

The forest was eerily quiet after that, save for the sound of your heavy breathing. You stared at Micah’s lifeless body, his face unrecognizable. Then you spit on him.

“Asshole.”

You glanced up at the sky hidden behind the treetops, releasing all the tension from your body. Tears spilled down your cheeks, but you felt almost at peace. Almost. There was still one life left to end.

Releasing a breath of you, you spun on your heel, prepared to return to frat house, tie Rafe up, & wait for him to wake, but as you did, you halted immediately.

Rafe stood before you, just on the edge of the clearing. He looked very awake.

He cocked his head at you before his eyes fell to Micah’s body behind you.

“You killed him.”

“He deserved it.”

Rafe nodded at that, apparently agreeing. Then his eyes fell to the gun in your hand, “It’s empty.”

You followed his line of sight. You recalled the early days after the world ended when Adrianna taught all of you how to use, shoot, & clean guns. The one you carried in your hand could hold up to nine bullets. In your mind’s eyes, you quickly counted how many times you shot Micah, but couldn’t be entirely sure. Everything had happened so fast & you hadn’t been thinking ahead about saving a bullet for yourself.

“Give me the gun, _____.” Rafe took a step towards you & you quickly looked back up at him.

“There’s one left.”

You raised it then, aiming it at Rafe.

He stared hard-eyed at you, daring you to do it.

“Don’t worry.” You mumbled, “It’s not for you.”

But before you could turn the gun on yourself, Rafe, quick as flash, appeared before you, knocking the gun out of your hand & you to the ground.

“No!” You screeched, wrestling against him.

He attempted to clamber on top of you but you swiftly brought a knee up into hide side, effectively knocking the wind out of him. He collapsed onto one knee beside you & you quickly rolled away from him, the gun only a foot or two away. You were preparing to launch yourself towards it when you felt Rafe catch you by the ankle, yanking you backwards.

“_____! Don’t!” He yelled behind you.

You grunted, glancing over your shoulder at him as he caught his breath. You swiftly shot out your other leg, kicking him square in the face with the sole of your shoe. Rafe fell backwards & you shoved yourself forward towards the gun & away from Rafe.

But just as your fingers grazed the grip of the gun, Rafe was clung to both of your legs & used your lower half to pull himself upwards. He grabbed a fistful of your hair for the umpteenth time that day & slammed your face into the forest floor. Blood filled your mouth as you felt your own teeth sink into your lips. But you couldn’t give up. Giving up would be the last thing you ever did.

As soon as you felt Rafe crawl over your upper back, you threw your elbow backwards, hitting him directly in the ribs. He grunted above you but did not relent his hold on you. So you swung again & again, never giving him a chance to recover until he was forced to lift himself off you. In that brief second of a moment, you launched yourself forwards & felt the grip od the gun in the palm of your hand.

You rolled onto your back, readying to bring to your head but before you could Rafe caught your hand with the sole of his boot & locked the arm that was holding the gun against the ground. You wailed frustratingly & attempting to kick at him but he easily angled his body away.

Spit & blood collected on your chin as you hissed up at him.

He bent at the knees, adding more pressure to your arm which you thought would surely snap if he bent any further. Rafe caught your chin in his hand then, is nails digging into your cheeks as you forced to look at him.

“I told you, you’re never going to esca—”

You threw your other hand upwards into a fist & socked him right in his testicles. Rafe inhaled sharply & grunted at the assault before he practically fell on top of you, his foot slipping off your arm.

“_____!” He wheezed out as he used the remaining strength he had left to wrestle with your arm that held the gun.

You managed to get the gun between your bodies as you both fought mercilessly for the grip of it. His fingers pried at your own & you used your shoulders to angle yourself as much as possible away from him. But Rafe wasn’t going down without a fight, & neither were you.

The gun was in both yours & Rafe’s hands then. He held the bottom of the grip but it was your finger over the trigger.

“_____! Don’t!”

Tears of exhaustion forced themselves out of your eyes as you felt yourself losing grip on the gun. Both of your chests that were practically pressed against one another were preventing either of you from really succeeding in securing a hold on the gun. You could feel your fingers growing wet with sweat as the gun turned every which way between your bodies.

With the last bit of effort, you attempted to slam your head into Rafe’s but he anticipated it. He lifted himself only slightly but it was enough for you to reaffirm your grip on the gun, yet hand was still covering yours as you did.

Your heart, body, mind & soul raced to the finish line. You swore, your promised. This was the end for you. It had to be.

Your fingers had yet to reach the trigger, slipping in the fight against Rafe.

And before they could, the gun went off.

Kai Combs

2002-2023

Micah Reed

2001-2023

Rafe Cameron

2000-xxxx

Reader

2001-xxxx

the end.

i have finally finished the first part to my first full universe series The Day The World Ended.

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thank you for reading & going on this journey with me! please be sure to read part two to The Day The World Ended series featuring reader x Ransom Drysdale.

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lou-struck · 10 months

Text

Honesty

Solomon x reader

WC: 2.8k+

~ This is why you aren't supposed to bring food or drink into Solomon’s lab. (or maybe why you should)

Warnings: Potion consumption, reader having a few insecurities, suggestiveness , Solomon overworking himself, food and drink.

A/n: I feel like I'm getting out of this little writing slump. Things have been rough these past few months but I am excited to get back into writing and hopefully making things that you guys enjoy.

Sometimes, when you look at Solomon, you wonder how you and him can both be considered humans.

He radiates this sort of otherworldly power that you just can’t seem to tear your gaze away from.

While the Devildom contains many mysteries, you have a feeling King Solomon the Wise has just a few more. He teases you with these little mysteries when you are working with him in his workshop.

They come out as calculated little mutterings that leave you wanting to know more, but he never gives you the whole story…

“I didn’t mean to burn down the Library of Alexandria.”

“You would’ve loved Atlantis.”

“The Illuminati started out as a book club.”

Sometimes, you do wonder if the cunning Sorcerer is just teasing you, but you don’t mind it all that much. His vast history and little mutterings are what makes him so endearing. Truly a creature all his own.

Solomon is always quick to brush off your questions and praises, directing your attention to one of his most recent experiments. And as you assist him in whatever trouble he is creating, you can’t help but feel as if you are not worthy enough to be at his side as an apprentice or as his love. It’s a small feeling, one that you are able to choke down easier than a bit of his abysmal cooking.

But your heart locks away what it believes to be the truth…

Solomon is amazing, and you’re just you.

Your boots leave little imprints in the dew-covered grass as you cut across the lush lawn of Purgatory Hall; if you weren’t familiar with its inhabitants, you might’ve felt bad about disregarding the well-tended cobblestone pathway just meters away, but due to an unfortunate incident involving Satan and an enchanted flamethrower, you were late for your apprenticeship with Solomon.

It also didn’t help that Luke, the sweet little angel, sent you a text sharing his concerns about the Sorcerer who hasn’t left his laboratory since last night and skipped breakfast and lunch to perform his experiments or whatever it is he does in there.

Your bag is filled to the brim with all sorts of little snacks and a few bottled juices, the glass bottles clinking suspiciously as you climb the steps of the enormous porch and let yourself in through the front door.

You don’t even have to think, you’ve been here so many times before you find yourself outside the door of the lab. Save for the sound of shuffling feet and clinking glassware, all is quiet.

You open the door as quietly as you can and see that Solomon is already hard at work. The Sorcerer is so entranced in his work, grinding some sort of luminous herb into a fine powder with a mortar and pestle. He hasn’t even noticed your presence yet.

But boy, do you notice his…

The sleeves of his white lab coat are rolled up to his forearms as he works diligently. Although he has been working non-stop for hours, he doesn’t look tired in the least. His snow-white hair is ruffled, and his skin seems to glow in the light of the bunsen burners. He is truly in his element, and it’s captivating to watch.

“Were you planning on just watching from the doorway, mc?”

The playfulness in his tone pulls you from your ogling as you step further into the room, inhaling the citrus aroma that wafts through the air.

“Sorry about that.” you grin half-heartedly. “It’s been a long day, and I guess I zoned out there for a minute.”

It’s a lie, but one that you deemed necessary for the situation. It’s too embarrassing to be honest all the time.

“Oh, I see.” His response is short, and your poor ears must still be off in wonderland because they seem to pick up a hint of disappointment in his tone. He tosses his ground herbs into a bubbling mixture that seems to glow a neon orange color. You’re sure there is a better term for it, but It honestly just looks like Sunny D.

“What have you been working on?” you ask, setting your bag down to the right of a crate of glass soda bottles, each full of something different.

He smiles and gestures around the room. “A bit of everything, I’m afraid. I found this old potion guide at a secondhand bookstore and wanted to see if I could improve the outdated recipes.”

“All of those?” you ask, realizing that he must’ve made at least fifty or so potions since last night.

He gives you a proud smile and nods. “I may have gone overboard. At about four in the morning, I realized that I ran out of normal vials, so I had to improvise and use some empty bottles from the kitchen.”

“And did you eat anything while you were down there?” you ask, shooting him a knowing smile.

“It may have escaped my mind.” he sighs. “Once I start working, there are very few things that can distract me from the task at hand.

“Then you are lucky I came prepared,” you smile, looking down at your bag of snacks. “Wanna take a break and tell me about some of them?”

“You know me too well,” he sighs, teasingly approaching you and wrapping his arm around you. “So, what’s on the menu today?”

Your skin heats up under his touch, but you remain composed. You hide the shake in your hand as you reach into your bag and pull out two glass bottles of cheap Demonus. You like this particular variety because it looks like bright grape juice, and it may just be a placebo, but you think it tastes a bit like it, too.

“Oh, drinking in the lab, are we?” he teases, twisting off the cap to his bottle as the liquid fizzles. “I suppose that’s alright for today since I didn’t make anything lethal.”

Your eyes land back on the crate of similar-looking bottles next to you. “What about these? Are you sure they are safe?”

“Boringly so,” he frowns, removing the first glass bottle from the crate and removing the cap for you to smell its contents.

The Mint colored liquid smells oddly enough like Black licorice when you inhale it. “It smells good; what does it do?”

“This one here was originally designed to turn your fingertips silver; I tweaked the recipe to only target the drinker’s nail beds.” He explains, a smile tugging at his features when he sees the natural curiosity and wonder on your features. “It’s not permanent, but I thought it would be interesting to see it used cosmetically.”

You’ve only been in the Devildom for a short time, but you are sure there aren’t many individuals who are able to grasp magic as easily as Solomon can. His brown-blue eyes look ethereal as they shine from his passion.

He’s Amazing

Brilliant

and far too handsome for his own good.

As much as you wish to compliment him on each and every one of these things until your voice becomes hoarse, that little bit of insecurity masked as self-preservation holds your tongue. Opting instead to take a sip of your Demonus, the sweet taste distracts you from the wonder that is Solomon enough so you can think of a less embarrassing response. The sugar seems to help, and you set the bottle back on the table.

“That’s so cool,” you say at last with true enthusiasm. You are unable to hide your curiosity as your eyes dart back to the crate of potions.

“Still curious?” he asks as you nod eagerly; he sets the fist bottle back into its slot and grabs another; he removes the cap and swirls the purple liquid around just as he did to the other one.

“Here, smell this one,” he says, gently holding the bottle out to you. Just as you were about to smell the potion, your attention was stolen by a fizzling sound. Both of your heads jolt towards the source and see that the cauldron he had been working with earlier fizzles out of control as a fluffy of electrically charged multicolored bubbles pop in the air.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” he states, setting the uncorked potion down and rushing over to lower the cauldron's heat and stop the potion overflow. “I hope the heat doesn’t alter the potion’s effects too drastically.”

“What kind of potion was that?” you call over as he carefully stirs the mixture.

“Nothing special,” he murmurs, “it just turns body hair into miniature porcupine quills; I’m planning on using this later, so it would be a shame if it were to be ruined.”

His response sends you into an ugly fit of laughter that has you choking on air. You reach for your juice on the table and take a deep swig to soothe your throat and save yourself from further embarrassment, but as the liquid reaches your lips, you notice that something tastes off.

Instead of the sweet fruity taste of demonus your tastebuds are assulted with this dry sourness with just a hint of bubblegum.

“This tastes like shit,” you find yourself saying. Your brows furrow from your little slip of the tongue, and you hope Solomon is too focused on stirring the cauldron to notice your little slip-up.

But his eyes are on you, a twinkle of amusement on his features as he takes in every inch of you. The attention is nice, but it makes you feel a bit flustered.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Your tone is much firmer than you anticipated. It’s almost as if you are scolding the Sorcerer.

He raises his eyebrows, that signature smirk never leaving his face. “Take a look at your hand. It appears you made a mistake.”

You look down and see that he is right. Instead of your Demonus, it seems you had mistakenly gulped down a large portion of whatever purple potion Solomon was about to show you.

Your heart drops into your already unsettled stomach. “Oh my god, am I gonna die?” you mutter aloud, breaking your mental dam and flooding the room with worried word vomit. “Solomon, why on earth would you make a potion in such a normal-looking bottle? Did you do this on purpose? I’m such an idiot around you, and I hate that you have to see me as such a screw-up.” “Am I going to die?”

“If I die, I’m going to ruin the exchange program, and Diavolo will be upset with me. And do you know how bad it is to piss off the prince of hell?”

“I don’t, but I’ll certainly find out soon.”

Solomon processes your frantic word vomit quickly and comes to your aid. He places both his hands on your shoulders to prevent you from pacing across the room. “Mc, listen to me. The potion is harmless, I promise.”

“What?” you pause and look at him carefully. He looks calm, but in his eyes, his pretty, pretty eyes are a look of concern for you.

“Heh, your eyes are pretty, did you know that?” you ask him, only to panic about your lack of a filter.

“What?”

“Wait?”

“Why am I saying such embarrassing things out loud?” your face feels hot in shame as Solomon’s cheeks turn pink at your words, and he averts his gaze briefly before collecting himself.

“So, have you figured out what the potion does yet?” he chuckles, hands still holding your shoulders.

“Is it a potion that makes me embarrass myself to death?” you quip

“Not quite.” he chuckles, “What you just drank is a special kind of truth potion.”

“How is it special?” you ask, allowing him to guide you to one of the chairs in his lab.

He beams, and you feel your heart tighten in your chest.

“This little potion just makes you say what’s on your mind; it removes one’s filter, making for quite a chaotic conversation.” he hums, somehow still keeping the innocence on his face. “It’s not really useful for interrogations or anything like that, but I had planned on slipping it in at our next dinner together at the House of Lamination for a bit of entertainment.”

“That would be funny,” you say unabashedly, already dreaming up the chaos that would ensue if each of the brothers just spouted off whatever came to their mind. “But how long am I stuck like this?”

He checks his pocket watch, “Don’t worry,” the results should wear off in a few hours or so, so hang tight. It may be best for you to stay with me tonight so I can observe these effects up close.”

“That’s a cute way of saying you just want to use me as your guinea pig.” you huff, shifting in your chair. “But if it means I get to spend some more time with you, that is a good thing.”

Despite the blush on his cheeks, Solomon remains composed. “Is that so?” he teases. “Do you really enjoy my company that much?”

Your loose tongue only makes you feel more emboldened as you answer that flirty little question of his. “I do.”

“Then may I tell you a secret, Mc?” He smiles as you nod without hesitation. The potion affecting more than just your speech. “I think I enjoy your company far more than you enjoy mine.”

Your eyes find that all too interesting ground at his sweet words. “That’s impossible, you’re incredible, Solomon. Compared to you, I feel like such a disappointment down here.”

The Sorcerer’s snowy brow furrows in disbelief as you spill another troubling confession.

“If that’s what it takes to convince you just how much I love you, then I suppose you leave me with no other choice.” he sighs, grabbing the half-empty potion bottle and downing it in one greedy gulp.

Your eyes widen, and you reach for his wrist, but you’re too slow to stop him. “Sol, what are you doing?”

“Just telling you what you need to hear.” he grimaces as the foul taste of the potion dances on his tongue. “Wow, this really does taste foul, doesn’t it? I’ll have to tweak this recipe for sure if I’m going to use it later.”

He sets the now-empty bottle back onto the countertop and looks at you with sincerity. “It hurts to hear you talk about yourself like you mean nothing.” he pauses and places his hands on your shoulders, and you wonder when they started trembling. “You are the most incredible individual I have ever met. You’re kind, sweet, caring, and and strong. You make me feel human.”

His word vomit differs from yours. Yours was panic, shame, and insecurity. His is honest-to-goodness love. You aren’t going to acknowledge the tears that spill from your glassy eyes. But you do know that he is right. You’re too cruel to yourself.

“I love you, Sol. Thank you for being honest with me.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice on the matter.” he smiles, leaning over you and brushing away a tear track from your warm cheek with the pad of his thumb. “But whenever you want me to tell you how I feel, all you have to do is ask.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and you lean forward in your seat. Your gaze never leaving his soft pink lips that hover temptingly above you. “Then will you show me?”

He smiles, his pearly whites shining like the moon, before crouching down to your eye level. His hands on either one of the arms rest as he leans in. “A million times over.”

He leans in and steals your breath away in the most honest exchange between the two of you all day. Your eyes flutter shut as your mind begins to swirl from the presence of the man who loves you. You can’t help but think about how honest this silence between the two of you is.

You stay locked in this passionate embrace until the lack of air burning your lungs reminds the two of you of the limits of your humanity.

It’s comfortable silence again, and Solomon looks at you as if he had just witnessed you paint all the constellations in the forever dark devildom sky.

It’s endearing, but thanks to this wonderful little accident, you have been presented with quite an interesting opportunity.

“Hey, Sol?”

“Yes, Mc?”

“Since you drank the potion too, I guess you have to tell me the whole Atlantis thing now.” you giggle playfully, ruffling his hair.

His laughter is pleasant as he removes your hand from his head and kisses the back of it softly.

“That’s not how this potion works, my dear,” he grins, watching your lip just out in a pout as you remember his words from earlier.

He’ll tell you everything one day, but for now, all Solomon wants to do while waiting for this little truth potion to wear off is to voice his plans for the future with you, not think about his past life without you.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#obey me x reader #obey me #obey me shall we date fluff #obey me shall we date #solomon x reader #solomon x mc #obey me solomon #x reader #obey me nightbringer

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 2 months

Text

BENEATH MILES OF STONE. XXII ;

❛ chapter map. ❛ John Wick x Fat fem reader. ❛ TW: nsfw. ❛ divider by saradika.

Fear gets her between them faster than she usually can be; she wedges herself into the gap and pushes Michael back.

John barely flinches at the contact with a palm he wasn’t expecting. He reaches for Michael, but stops when she attempts to shove him away with her own weight. The apparent look of anger on his face, comically garnished with flour, not at her but behind, toward her friend, puts her pulse in her ears. The world sways a bit as Michael tries to get past her. She holds firm, using the width of her body to block him off.

“Why are you protecting him?!” Michael demands. “He fucking kidnapped you!”

She and John both grit their teeth at the same time. “I’m not protecting him,” she hisses, looking directly at John but addressing Michael when she says this, terrified for her valiant friend’s life.

John stares at her, eyes narrowed. She stares back defiantly, skin burning and heart rate fast with anticipation. It’s stupid to stand between him and something he wants to maim, but the fact that he doesn’t already have Michael’s neck in his hands is testament that he doesn’t actually want to hurt him… not badly, at least. This calms her down, but she stays firm, blocking Michael from getting at John and vice versa.

Michael rolls his eyes. “I’m so scared.” His tone is mocking.

“Michael, please stop,” she pleads, “I don’t want you to die today, okay?”

Michael snorts and glares at John above her head.

John eyes him for a moment, upper lip twitching from annoyance so subtly that anyone who didn’t really like to look at his face wouldn’t notice.

“What is he doing to you that you’re so afraid of him?” Michael is now suspicious.

She slaps her head into her palm, sighing, and decides to try and mediate with words rather than her body. “He was keeping me safe, Michael. Something happened and I was being stupid for trying to leave.”

Michael sizes him up, and John almost grins. “Uh-huh.”

She opens her mouth, but John answers for her. “Michael?” His voice is calm, which only serves to poke her adrenaline higher.

“John,” Michael replies, spitting the name out better than any high school mean girl ever could.

She interjects. “John,” voice trembling, “This is Michael, he’s my roommate.”

“Hello Michael.”

“Heyyy,” Michael’s voice is laced with disgust.

“Do not hurt him,” she tells John.

Michael rolls his eyes, John rolls his jaw.

Tension sizzles hot, beading sweat on her neck, and she attempts with her softest, pleading-ist voice: “Can we just…start over? Please? I didn’t want it to be like this.”

Michael sighs. “Oh, hun…fine. But he’s on thin fucking ice.”

John finally smiles, with teeth, and even if there is a white powder handprint on his cheek, it doesn’t lessen the intimidation of his features when he does.

“Johnny?” She implores, looking up into his blackened eyes.

“I’m good,” John says.

He sits at the tiny kitchen table with a cold Coke while she looks over the mess on her counters.

“What are you making?” She asks, peering into the bowl.

Michael picks up the stirring spoon and shoves it to her face. “Taste,” he says.

“Michael, this is delicious! John, do you like cinnamon apple bread? Michael makes the best. Fucking. Cinnamon apple bread.”

“Never had,” John replies, toying with the edges of the chipped table.

“You’ve never had cinnamon apple bread?” Michael asks, spinning around.

“Not until nowwww,” she sings, smiling bright at him. “If you’re okay with staying…? John?”

“He better be. There’s no way I’m letting you go that easy.”

He looks between them, shoulders tight, thinking of how he’d be better off in a standoff than here. “Okay.”

The forehead kiss from her is worth it, and Michael, surprisingly, is not insufferable. He’s content to sit on the couch and eat cinnamon bread, which is delicious, and listen to her and Michael catch up and be charmingly nonsensical. A few times, she attempts to include him, before understanding that he’s more comfortable in the role of observer in social interactions, and smiles apologetically before changing course.

He likes watching her. The way she moves and talks, the infinite compassion in that tiny soft body astounds him. The roommate has a little burn on his finger from the oven, and she fusses over it until he lets her patch it up with cream and gauze.

John gets jealous of the way she is with Michael, which doesn’t surprise but does irritate him. While they watch a movie, he pulls her possessively into his side and wraps his arms around her despite halfhearted protests. Maybe he can’t entertain her as well, and make her giggle as endlessly, but he can trap her and never let her go.

So there.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen this. Popcorn?” She whispers.

He nibbles it off her fingers, unwilling to remove his hands from her waist.

When the movie is done, Michael find an excuse to drag her away for a minute. “It’ll just be a second, need you to tell me what looks best for my date before Johnny boy steals you away again.”

Upon a glance back at John, he is scowling menacingly at the prospect of her being away in another room, and even makes to pull her back from Michael’s clutches before he sees and concedes to the pleading look on her face, and sits back down with a grumble.

Michael is on her as soon as he shuts the bathroom door. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. That. That out there. Jesus Christ, he is delicious.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, not really knowing what else to say, worried that her knight in shining Kevlar is going to get the wrong idea about her and Michael.

“Yeah?!” Michael demands, jumping up on the counter. “Yeah?!” He sighs. “You’re in so much trouble, you know that? That man is gonna eat you alive and pick the bones clean, baby girl.”

Her face screws up, and he holds his palms up to stop the avalanche of thoughts no doubt ready to cascade through her brain. “Now listen,” he says, and she doesn’t, “I am not saying he is in any way too good for you or some dumb shit like that that you’re mind is inevitably concluding. I’m saying that that is a fucking wolf, and you are a sheep, and he’s going to ruin your life and I’m worried.”

Michael might be too perceptive for his own good. “Ruin my life?”

“Ruin you for any other man,” Michael corrects.

Too late for that.

“Babe, I am really not trying to be funny. Blink twice if you need help.”

She tries to contort her face into something other than an amused smile and fails miserably. “I like him Michael. I really like him.”

The understatement of the fucking century.

John helps her pack a bag. He raises an eyebrow upon seeing the dress, a flouncy colorful thing that would pair lovely with braids and his face shoved between her thighs. He puts the bag down on her bed, grabs her while she’s rummaging in her closet, and sticks her up on her little dresser with his hips wedged between her legs.

“John, we—“

His mouth makes her stupid so easily, hands wrapping around her waist and clutching down, saying this is mine without words, and this too while he sucks her upper lip into his mouth.

His tongue seems to find new tender places every time it traverses the expanse of her neck and jaw and collar, the little crevices of honeyed sweat unexplored by any other before him, a treasure under her ear that makes her squeal.

“He’s right,” John says, pressing light kisses over her jaw.

“What?” She breathes, clutching onto his jacket so hard the leather creaks and dents.

“I am going to eat you alive.”

And then he licks the bite from her teeth off her lip, and kisses her so sweetly she wishes he would be meaner just to press some of the ache from her mouth…and heart…and hands and fingers and toes and right between her parting legs where his fingers sneak in and curl.

She’s slippery and soaked, and he raises an eyebrow in amusement at the contrary protest her mouth gives, kisses her again to swallow a low groan as he thumbs at her clit and tugs at her front walls.

She doesn’t want the roommate to hear, doesn’t want him to know she’s a wanton creature with desires and afflictions, and that’s understandable, but unneeded because, “I have you, dollbaby, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

And she’s his no matter what, because he says so. Everything else is trivial.

He makes her cum and lets her bite his flesh so she doesn’t make too much ruckus (a wasted effort, on her part) then pulls his fingers from her tight little cunt and sticks them on her tongue. “Suck,” he says, watching her obey, lick and slurp her own sweet pussy juice of his digits.

His cock flares against his thigh, and he gets jealous, so he has to have a bit of cream for himself before she gets its all.

“See how good you taste?” He asks, fingers leaving in a wet pop from his mouth. “See why I can’t get enough of you?”

She tries to answer, but he kisses her, takes her tongue’s attention from syllables and despite the swollen, sensitive apex of her thighs makes her buck against him for more.

He groans against her mouth, because the dresser puts her right in line with his angry cock, and she grinds up against it, looking up at him through half lidded eyes, shy and needy and completely, helplessly irresistible.

He settles his hand around her collar, and smiles. “Hurry up.”

“Sure you don’t want me to take my time?” She muses, giggling evilly at the prospect of his painfully turgid cock.

“Oh?” He asks, pressing a little harder at her throat and watching her eyes flutter in pleasure. Good to know. “Wanna get fucked like an animal on your dirty blood stained mattress? Let Michael hear me ruin you and that pretty little cunt?”

She squirms, bucks her hips, and he chuckles. Too fucking easy. He loves it. “You little harlot.”

She kisses him again, maybe to shut up him up so her pussy stops clutching violently in need, and he laughs into her mouth despite the ferocity of her tongue and teeth.

“I want you to make love to me,” she tells his lips.

He doesn’t let her turn away from him when she says it, and his heart might as well have been shot through. “Finish packing.”

She smiles one more kiss into his mouth, bumps foreheads, and then lets him take her down off the dresser.

“Do you think this dress is okay?” She pauses, with it bunched in her hands and ready to go into the bag. “Probably not.”

“We can find something else,” he assures, unconcerned but already scheming up a pretty outfit for her.

“Oooooookayyyyyy,” she sighs, pushing it into her bag, anyway. She looks down, into the confines of the dresser it came from, and recognizes the robins blue cover of a forgotten gift, and smiles wide.

“Here, I got this for you.”

The big novel looks so tiny in his hands—it reminds her of when she was a kid, and everything seemed bigger compared to now—as he flips it over and reads the spine. “Oh, have you read this?”

“Uh, no. I just thought you’d like it. It’s about assassins and love. Have you read it?”

“No.” Then, he notices or rather realizes something: She doesn’t own any books. None that he’s seen. No shelf or stash. Her little case of DVDs lying next to the TV is the only entertainment he’s spied, and he wants to know why. “You don’t have any books?”

She shrugs. “I don’t read much. I mean, I used to. When I was young. A lot. But I just have no time for it, with work, you know?”

He blinks at her, feeling suddenly very horrible. Feeling like buying a house and stocking it with every book and movie she wants and keeping her locked in there to read and watch and eat and relax and fuck.

“What?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest defensively.

“I love it,” he motions at the gift.

She gives him one of those smiles that threatens to turn his plasma into syrup and continues packing.

Michael wraps her into a big hug before she goes, glaring over her shoulder at John, who decides then that he likes him because of how much he seems to care about her wellbeing.

When she walks out, John lingers a moment to slip an unmarked envelope into Michael’s hands, and when he looks up to ask about it, John is gone, and the door is closed as if he hadn’t been there at all. Inside is a check to cover the rest of her rent for the next six months, along with a note explaining this.

Of course, Michael immediately texts her after she’s safely buckled into his passenger seat, and of course, she confronts him. There is nothing about her that would indicate she’s okay with someone doing that for her, and John doesn’t expect acceptance right away, although she’ll have to get used to it sooner rather than later. He explains, casually, “It’s not because I think you can’t pay it, or that I owe you something. I want to do this for you because that money is trivial to me compared to your security and happiness.”

“Twelve thousand dollars is trivial to you?” she asks through a mix of gratefulness and sheer outrage that he would even think of spending that much money on her.

He thinks about how to answer that, whether to tell her he can make that in three hours sitting at Viggo’s bar and ensuring no one decides to kill him, and decides that he wants to be as honest as he can. Gently honest. Ease in. “Twelve thousand means something else to people with my salary. It would be like ten dollars for someone middle class.”

She blinks, then, surprisingly, laughs at him. At the raised eyebrow and the quick glance to probably check and see if she’s gone completely wacko, she reassures him of her dwindling sanity. “You paid my rent with blood money.”

He cringes, but agrees.

“I can’t John. I know you do what you do, but I can’t. I’m telling him not to cash the check.”

The willpower it takes not to stop this car, spin and drift on the icy road, park at the corner and bend her to his will either by bending her over his knee or bending her in half while he fucks the fight out of her in the cold back seat is tangent. This reminds him that she is too ethical, too moral, and that he will need to ruin both of those illusions sooner rather than later.

A second later, all his anger fades when she speaks soft and timid, manipulating him with the big-eyed pout on her pretty face without knowing she’s doing it. “Are you mad?”

“I’m irritated,” he tells her, brushing his knuckles over her cold puffy cheeks to soothe the ache of truth. “But I understand. Although don’t think that will stop me from trying to convince you otherwise.”

He grins, and she shivers under his touch, because John can be very convincing. She supposes it’s not hard for him to be, especially looking like he does, carrying himself like he does.

——————————

She is trying on her flowery dress, and it’s tighter, spilling the fat of her tits over the top and framing the soft bulge of her tummy obscenely. She turns in the mirror, smooths down and sucks in and decides she hates it far too much to let anyone see her in it let alone John—except he’s already in the doorway, leaning casually and watching her, eyes downturned.

Out of all the things she can cover, her hands instinctually wrap around her stomach to hide it, and he smiles, deciding that is where he’s going to lick and kiss and suck first.

“It’s not—“ he’s on her, pressing her against the counter and bruising her already chafed mouth, uncurling her little fists and pinning them on the counter. She moans against his teeth, pressing her hips into his thighs, and he bites her bottom lip to distract her from where his hands cup and kneed. It doesn’t work very well, not for too long, and she’s torn between sensitivity and shyness, immediately covering his hands and giggling. She buries her head into his chest, holding onto him, not protesting just yet, and he inhales her.

“Johnnnnn, that tickles.”

“Oh, poor thing,” he tuts, not stopping.

His teeth nip the spillage of her tits while he hikes her dress up around her waist, and then remembers his sweet thing wants to make love, and grins and this little morsel of heaven before him. “Take your pretty dress off and get in bed.”

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick fanfiction #john wick fanfic #john wick x plus size reader #x plus size reader #x fat reader #x chubby reader

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pampushky · 2 months

Text

Foot of the Gallows

trafalgar d. water law/reader - chapter 1 - 3.1k

ao3 link | masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter

1.) sunshroom

sunshroom: A mushroom often found in deserts and dry places. It's a beautiful, orange-red color. By drying it, and then turning it to powder, it can be made into a medicine that can then drive away the chills, or added into a stew to safely raise the body temperature of a patient experiencing even the most severe cases of hypothermia.

cw: planned execution, mentioned character death (rip my boy corazon), mentions of past arguments/insults, not a very heavy chapter tbh

content otherwise: angst, friends to enemies to lovers, hella slow burn, law needing to figure out emotions, reader is an apothecary, genuinely just angst and idiots on both sides

The news of Trafalgar D. Water Law’s execution is brought to you by a kindly old woman, with a bad bought of dragon-scale, fetching medicine for herself. She drops the two silver coins in your outstretched hand, the rough patches of her skin brushing against your palm, and you shiver a bit as she hobbles out the door, already popping one of the dried balls of medicine into her mouth, strictly against the instructions you had just given her.

“Set to be hung tomorrow at mid-day, m’ducky!” She calls over her shoulder, letting out an ugly cackle as she crunches on another ball. “Should have done it from the start, that’s what I was telling Earl this morning!”

You slump into the chair behind your counter and fight the urge to massage your temple, instead washing your hands vigorously before you even start to handle your morning breakfast. You let yourself breathe, after that, leaning over the little basin of water in the back of your shop before you stride back to the front, wiping your hands on your apron, and starting on your orders for the day.

Hanging was a terrible way to go. No where near as quick, as the crowds who would rush to watch would think. In reality, they died of strangulation, often very slowly, when the rope would fail to snap their neck, which it always did. You know this, because of your father’s teachings, mentoring you in your family’s trade until you were able to work on your own, allowing him to retire to the south of the continent, where he could spend his days with your mother, none of the cold northern winds to make their joints ache.

Somewhere, you feel a pang of horror, that your childhood friend is to die that way. Law, who had been a serious, yet sweet child, was always by your side, helping you gather the herbs and mushrooms you needed, drying lichens with you in the branches of the tall aspen beside your house. He helped wrap your scraped knees and elbows, held tightly to the little cuts on your fingers until the bleeding stopped, and lectured you on the importance of proper hygiene the moment the hair under your arms and on your legs started to grow, waving his two years of age ahead of you like a proud banner, shooting up in height almost overnight.

Also, the same boy who had shoved you into a puddle of mud and declared that he hated you, before storming away, forever poisoning the bond that had grown between you for nearly fifteen years, turning you from friends to bitter enemies in the split second it took for you to fall to the ground after being pushed.

Ah, the duality of man.

It didn’t matter now. A suspiciously brilliant doctor or not, he had been nothing but an ass since your friendship had so abruptly ended. You steeled your heart to his tragedies and accomplishments. You thrived in your own way, continuing with your way of life just as your ancestors before you had, living in the same house, beside the same aspen, making the same kinds of medicine and selling it to the descendants of the people whom your ancestors had helped.

It didn’t matter at all. Especially not when Law left after his father’s death, and then returned three years later, with white patches of skin covering his body, making it look as though a skull had been painted on his face, or the streaks of bright white in his pitch-black hair.

So why did that sting of horror never fade? Even as you crushed dried sunshrooms into the mortar until it was a spicy-smelling powder that could be used to drive away the chills, and raise someone’s temperature safely, even in the worst hypothermia cases. That sharp pain never escaped you, thrumming at your heart until you were certain you had eaten something that was starting to mess with you.

Until you remembered you hadn’t eaten anything at all and gave up on feeling any better about the execution. Events like that always made you uneasy, especially when the imperial Guards would come into your otherwise quiet shop, the horse-hair plumes of their helmets muffling the sweet chime of the entry bell halfway through the ring, looking for a lethal herb or plant that you almost certainly didn’t carry. You hated that despite multiple signs on the door, and after repeatedly writing to the captain of the guard, they still would come asking.

So you set to distracting yourself, putting the powdered sunshroom into a small jar, and then eating an easy breakfast of rice porridge and honey, before getting to the rest of your work for the day with your head down, and definitely not thinking of Law as the day drags on.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Law’s tone is dry, while the shackles slang slightly from around his wrists. He’s sitting on the ground of his cell, caked in dried mud, with a split lip and a black eye. There were other, more well-hidden, wounds from the guard’s interrogation, but they got what they wanted in the end. But still, Bepo looks horrified as he looks at him through the bars of the cell, ears flattened against his head, with his canines bared in sorrow and anger.

“You look…. Horrible,” Bepo mutters and then starts to shake his head from side to side, squeezing his eyes shut and placing his hands over his ears.

“Thanks,” Law leans his head against the brick wall and closes his eyes. “That’s incredibly helpful, Bepo.”

“I-I mean, how, you haven’t done anything wrong—”

“I performed a standard procedure from a different country, where the magic I used is outlawed in this one,” Law deadpans, eyes open again on focusing on the ceiling. “So I did do something. And then the guards beat a confession from me, so it’s my word against… well, myself.”

Bepo groans, and slumps to the ground, curled in an awkwardly large ball for how tight the corridor of the city prison is— the detriments of being a polar bear mink. Oh, the things Law would publish if he could, right now. Mainly about the abhorrent conditions of the prisons. Were the people aware of just how terrible the cells were? Or did they simply not care?

Oh well. It didn’t matter now. Law was as good as dead. Ikkaku and Shachi had been researching tirelessly for ways to get out of this without any luck, and Penguin had tried (and failed) to hire any lawyer that was willing to so much as take a look at his case to argue in front of a judge. According to Shachi, once they had so much as heard the words dark magic they had sent him packing, screaming for him to leave immediately before they called for the imperial guards.

“The more accurate term would be lunar magic, but they never want to have that discussion,” Law sighs, and Bepo unravels himself from his despondent ball on the floor, staring at Law with what can only be described as contempt mixed with annoyance.

Just like you how you looked at him every time he had gone to your shop to stock up on painkillers and other supplies. Surely you’d gotten over what he’d said from when you were teenagers? Having to dodge the pestle that was sent flying at his head answered that question rather quickly, along with Ikkaku and Bepo being the only people allowed in your shop to pick up the supplies he needed. Penguin, Law, and Shachi were recipients of lifetime bans from the shop, which had only happened to two other people in the entire history of your family working there.

There was no need to punish his patients for his ‘assholery’, according to Bepo, which is the only reason why he was still allowed to get what medicines he needed. But Law being able to enter was soundly out of the question, so he would end up standing awkwardly outside the door, using Bepo or Ikkaku to communicate with you.

That wouldn’t be an issue to you anymore, he supposed. You could go back to selling your medicines in peace, and probably even get more customers from his death. How morbid of him to think about— the benefits of his untimely demise, and the setbacks that this country would go through because they had decided to execute him rather than letting their medical sciences and their backwater understanding of magic types evolve.

At least he wouldn’t be able to bother you anymore, gods above knew that you deserved some peace and quiet, not deserving to have the doctor haunting your mind, if he even crossed your mind.

But there was still the issue of how to pass his last day alive, especially while Bepo was still sulking in the hallway, one of his ears twitching slightly at the sound of a shopkeeper singing some song about a man on the way to the gallows. Law didn’t catch much after that– he tended to block such things out to focus on his studies and work. Bepo, however, seemed to be rather interested in something, his head snapping up, before scrambling out of the prison, only saying something about an idea to save Law.

Law only closes his eyes again and lets himself disassociate as he listens to the near-rhythmic scratching of the rats on the floor.

The sweet little bell above the door chimes, drawing your attention away from the scale for just a second, staring at the panting polar bear standing in your doorway, one hand pressed against the frame while the other holds the door open, before managing to wheeze out your name, and looking up at you in desperation, and speaking between giants huffs for breath.

“You…” huff “...have ta’,” huff “...help Law.” huff huff.

“Good afternoon to you too, Bepo,” You speak dryly, and the polar bear can’t help but think about how similar you are to the doctor currently sitting in a cell across the city. “Now, how in the name of Wild Mother would I be able to help a man, who pleaded guilty, by the way, to using dark magic?” You raise an eyebrow, arms folded as you stare him down. “He knew the laws. He should have been more careful– or, I don’t know, not use dark magic.”

The annoyance in your voice is palpable, and you turn your back to him, going back to measuring out a shimmery gold power into a little glass bowl. Your back is stiff, and Bepo can see how tightly you’re holding the little spoon in your hand as you carefully fill the bowl, before adding a few drops of some oil, and then stirring it. You don’t even look back at him, but there is fury in your voice when you realize he still hasn’t left yet when the bell doesn’t chime again after a minute.

“Bepo, I already told you, there’s no way I can help him,” You turn again, letting out a frustrated sigh as you look at him. “Besides— surely I am the last person that he would want to have to help him out of this mess,”

“But you are— wait, no, not the last— urgh! I mean, you’re the only one who can help him!” Bepo slams his hands down on the counter, and you look a bit shocked, raising your eyebrow at him again, while he stammers out an apology.

“That…. is four-hundred-year-old wood,” You sigh, and then look pointedly at the mink, “Explain,” you rub your temple as you speak, thoroughly done with everything to do with Trafalgar Law, and on the verge of considering giving Bepo a lifetime ban for slamming on your counter so harshly.

“There’s an ancient law— if someone proposes to whoever is on the gallows, their life is spared for a year, and they are retried then, based on how they’ve improved and lived with their spouse,” Bepo talks to you in a frenzy, eyes wide, “You can propose to him— right when he’s going up, and then you can use your influence to help him prove that lunar magic—”

“Get out,” you snarl, and Bepo freezes, looking at you with shock, mouth still open, as though he hasn’t even finished his pitch yet. But you’re done listening and don’t want to hear anything else about this idea. Yet he continues, even as you stalk around the corner of the counter, set on throwing him out yourself, if he won’t leave on his own.

“Shacchi and Penguin can’t— they’re married, and clearly only interested in each other, and Ikkaku doesn’t court men. I— I’m too publically known not to do anything, so—”

“Get out!”

And with that, Bepo finally takes the hint and leaves, but not before shouting: “At least consider it! Please! You’re his last chance!”

You close the shop early that day, feeling sick to your stomach as you sit on the floor, knees to your chest, trying to fight off tears as Bepo’s pleas ricochet around your skull. The pain and horror in your heart still haven’t faded, and if anything, they’ve only gotten worse. Damn that man. Damn your fool of a heart, for still clinging to that childhood friendship. And damn the cruelty in Law’s heart for saying those cruel things to you as he shoved you to the ground, his eyes full of nothing but hatred and malice as he towered over you in the rain.

The chime from the little bell above the door haunts you as you go to sleep for the night after spending several hours on the floor of the main shop with your back to the door, painfully aware that the next time it rings, there’s a good chance Law will be on his way to the gallows.

><><><

Executions have always been rather…. Obnoxious events. The crowds are too excited for the end of a person’s life, too entertained by the drama of it all, while the guards read out the sentencing, and details of the crimes. Law never quite understood why so many people were so attracted to it— during his apprenticeship across the sea, he had attended many executions, all to collect the body of the criminal, sent to do the dirty work of the medical academy that the second and third years didn’t want to do.

It’s odd, from the other side of the lens. He can see the bored-looking medical student, with the white-and-gold cloak of a first-year medical student, just as he had worn eight years ago. He can see Shacchi, Penguin, and Ikkaku, in the front row, solemn expressions on their faces, pushed into the barrier by the jeering crowd. It’s an odd mixture of emotions on the faces of the people who’ve come to see him die. Some looked angry, crying out about it being unjustified, and that they were killing an innocent doctor who had done nothing but save countless lives, while others shouted about the god of light and the sun striking him down for his insolence.

Backwater country, Law sneers in his mind, right when a rotten peach gets pitched at his head, causing him to stumble a bit. The guards, ever merciless, only tug on his shackles harshly and nearly make him fall flat on his face.

Shachhi lets out an angry shout, and Law watches as Penguin holds him back, straining against his husband. Ikkaku spits at the man, though, and goes down in a flurry of fists and screaming. Bepo is nowhere to be seen, and he is oddly okay with that. The polar bear is sensitive— it would be best if he didn’t see him die this way.

When Law gets to the steps of the gallows, an odd hush falls over the crowd. He knows it’s because they finally got a better view of him now, and are likely spending the time to really take in his admittedly miserable state. Or at least he thinks that’s what they’re doing, until he turns to look back at his friends, only to see a figure in a dark green cloak, finely embroidered with white leafy and floral details, and looking straight ahead as it marches down the path he had just walked. The vice-captain of the guard, Kizaru, who has to be present for all executions that take place in the capital city, pays no heed to the figure or the silence of the crowd and tiredly reads out the charges levied against him.

The hood falls, just as the figure reaches the foot of the gallows, as the noose is slipped over Law’s head, and there you stand, holding up your hand.

“I invoke my right to propose to this criminal, in the interest of bettering and upholding our justice system,” Your voice is steady. There is a roll of parchment in your upheld hand, “Here is the ancient law that states this right, should you need me to source the legal right I have to do this,”

Your eyes are filled with fire, be it fury or determination, Law does not know, but he does know that you look like you are going to throttle him when the two of you go behind closed doors. Bepo somehow appeared behind Shacchi, Penguin, and Ikkaku, looking extremely hopeful while the other three looked utterly baffled. The crowd is whispering amongst itself.

Kizaru only nods, reading the parchment after taking it delicately from your hand, and then gestures for the noose to be taken from Law’s neck, and the shackles unlocked, nudging him off the little stage.

“We shall discuss this in more detail tomorrow,” Kizaru sighs lazily, shooing Law and yourself away with a flick of his wrist, setting his chin against his other hand, and studying the two of you. “But for now… in the name of our great Empress, and by her divinely-appointed power, I ask the gods to bless your union and re-introduce you to our beloved creators as a married couple. Congratulations." Amusement twinkles in his eyes, before his mood suddenly sours, and he scowls, "...Now get out of my sight.”

The crowd riots the moment he dismisses you, and you drag Law by his wrist in the direction from which he had come not ten minutes earlier, expecting to be executed, only to leave alive, but married, as well. You only keep your gaze forward, cursing under your breath the entire time, the chaos of the botched execution sends the town square into chaos as the two of you disappear into the crowd.

#trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece x reader #one piece x you #law x you #law x yn #one piece x y/n #one piece insert #enemies to lovers #friends to enemies to lovers really #ao3 #not actually unrequited love #trafalgar one piece #soulmate au too ig

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ivys-garden · 3 months

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Hivy, This is Ivy!

Throughout my time on Tumblr one of my favourite things to do has been to create hypothetical Minecraft updates, I've done this twice before with The Pigeon update and The Pond Update, but a few weeks ago I let you lot chose what geographic area I should turn into a hypothetical update

Yall chose Celtic Europe (and Oceania but that's for later) AKA, Ireland, Scotland, Whales and Cornwall. I was very glad with this outcome as I myself am Scottish and I had a lot of ideas for this…..too many ideas…. So many ideas that I had to cut an entire section and now some stuff feels barebones….whoops. (but hey now I can work on a full portion update later…yay.)

But, enough of that, let's move on to:

The Fae Update!

New Biomes + Structures

There are 6 new biomes in this hypothetical update, each referring a different local found in celtic europe these are: The White Cliffs,The Glacial Pass, The Wisteria Forrest The Heather Moorlands/Peat Bogs (take your pick), The Highland Forests, and… you'll see ;3

The White Cliffs

The White Cliffs are a new coastal biome, consisting of grass topped cliffs, sandy bays and rock structures jutting out of the water. Suspicious sand and gravel generates naturally here and loot from it follows the fishing loot table, though with an increased chance to find nautilus shells and a rare chance to find sniffer eggs

This biome is based on the White Cliffs of Dover and the Jurassic Coast

The White Cliffs has only three new features:

Puffins

A new passive abiant mob, they drop Feathers when killed. Instead of the normal birds nest (introduced in the pigeon update) puffins lay there eggs in “wall nests” grey nests that attach to walls, these can be used as a decorative block

Seagulls

A neutral mob who drops Feathers and fish when killed, they spawn both in the White Cliffs and on beaches and open Seas. Seagulls will attack the player if they are holding any food item in their hand, stealing it.

Seagulls serve no other purpose.

Chalk

Chalk is a new stone block. It has the blast resistance of wood and is exclusive to the white cliffs, making up the cliffs themselves.

Chalk can be dyed any of the dye colours in the game, creating a softer, more Pastel variant of that colour (queers rejoice). Chalk can be made into slabs, stairs and walls in the stone cutter.

The Glacial Pass

A cold mountainous biome, the Glacial past is mainly made of stone and deeplate, with ice and snow also being common. Dipstone spikes can be found here as well as gravel structures resembling Eskers and Terminal Moraines (yes my favourite subject is geography how can you tell?). Suspicious gravel can be found here as well as suspicious snow, which can also be found in the igloo. Strays, Polar Bears, Foxes and Rabbits Spawn in this environment

This biome is based on glaciated uplands

Seals

Seals can be found in all cold environments. Seals will follow the player when they swim, upon coming on to land Seals will bob in the afternoon expectantly.

Seals can be fed fish, clapping after this is done

Seals drop blubber when killed. Blubber can be crafted into blubber blocks, when lit on fire these blocks burn light yellow. Blubber can be used to make torches, lanterns and campfires.

Blubber can also be crafted into a chest plate, the blubber chest plate reduces projectile damage and prevents Frost damage in powdered snow, but it slows you down while on land

The Wisteria Forest

A replacement for the old flower Frocester, this is a rare forrest in which all natural flowers spawn

Purified water (a type of water introduced in the pond update that can cure harmful status effects and restore hunger permanently for a short time) would spawn here too, as well as unicorns and kelpies (introduced in the pond update, will be discussed later)

Other Mobs that Spawn here will be discussed later

Wisteria Trees

Wisteria trees are a new wood type. The wood itself is a pale green with a purplish grey bark. Wisteria leaves are pale lavender. Wisteria trees also have hanging leave variants, much like willow leaves (pond update) that grow in the same way as glow berries

Butterflies and Moths

Passive ambient mobs that spawn in all biomes, though moths are most common in dark oak forests and butterflies are most common here. Both come in many colours, much like tropical fish. These mobs are as large as the bees (traditional dictates that all Minecraft arthropods must be massive, also yes bane of arthropods works on these, but do you actually care?)

Butterflies and Moths drop their respective wings when killed, these can be grafted onto the elytra (using the dragonfly carapace, an mob drop from the dragon fly as introduced in the pond update, speaking of that, the Toad from that update will also eat Moths and Butterflies) grafting these wings on changes the electable texture to resemble the wings of these Mobs (Note: despite both having many textures the electric will always adopt The Lunar Moth and Monarch Butterfly texture respectively)

Crann Bethadh Sprout

The sprout of a legendary tree, this is a two tall plant with ever changing leaf colours, shifting throughout all the pastel colour variants

The player can take a cutting of this plant using shears

This plant can only be dug up by the sniffer

Flower Crowns

By combining any 4 flowers in a circular pattern in the crafting table players can make flower crowns. Flower crowns adopt the colours of whatever flowers were used to craft it. Flower crowns can be worn on the head and serve no purpose other than to make people look pretty ;3

Wisteria Grass

Wisteria grass is a new grass type block that is pale lavender. It behaves the same as grass. It is only found in the Wisteria forest

The Heather Moorlands

Heather Moorlands are made up of water, grass, mud and a new block. No trees and few other plants spawn here, but cattails, reeds (pond update), sea grass and lily pads would be common here.

Bogs would spawn here

Toads, Frogs and Dragonflies would spawn here

Heather Moorlands are based on….Heather Moorlands.

Peat

Peat is a new powered snow-like block. It is brown in colour and makes up most of the ground in the Heather moorlands. Any plant can be planted on it.

Falling through peat takes notably longer than it does for powdered snow, players cannot freeze in peat, only suffocate. Peat can be safely traversed with leather boots.

When broken, peat will break into Peat Logs, peat logs can be burned in the furnace as an effective fuel

When lit on fire, Peat burns Bright Red, peat logs can be used to make peat lanterns, campfires and torches.

Combining 4 peat logs together makes a peat block, smelting a peat block creates Hardened Peat. Harmed peat can be made into Smooth Peat, Chiselled Peat, Peat Bricks, Cut Peat, Peat Pillar and Peat Tiles

Gortach

The Gortach are a new Undead mob. They spawn in swamps and peat bogs and resemble Bog bodies. They hide in dirt, mud, sand, gravel and peat and jump out of the ground to attack.

Gortach inflicts poison with their attacks. Gortach can carry swords, axes, and spears

Gortach drop their weapon, peat logs or Rotten flesh when killed

Spears

Spears are crafted either with one iron ingot and two sticks in a diagonal pattern, or are dropped by the Gortach

Spears are weaker than the sword but have a better reach, can be thrown (though this isn't good for their durability) and completely bypass shields and armour, hitting the opponent as if they had nothing at all

Spears have all the same enchantments as the Sword + Loyalty

Heather

Heather is a new purple flower exclusive to the Heather Moorlands. It gives purple dye when ground up.

The Highland Forest

Made up of rolling hills and Birch trees, all normal passive Mobs can spawn here, but sheep, goats,bees and cows are most common. All normal hostile Mobs can spawn here

Loch Lurkers (a rare UnderWater horse-like mob from the pond update) also spawn in the lakes here

Birch Updates

Yep. This is a secret Birch forest update.

A new form of Birch tree “Silver Birch” that grows much taller and has yellow leaves can be found here. This form gets its own sapling

The Birch block would also get a minor update to make the black segments more like stripes and not ugly blobs

Leave Updates, Packed Leaves and Thatching

Players and Mobs can now walk and fall through leaves.

When breaking leaves with anything other than shears or silk touch leaf blocks will drop leaf items (except wisteria and Spruce, which drop Petals and Needles)

By placing 9 of these in the crafting bench the player can create packed leaves, a new solid version of the leaf block

Thatching is a new block of greyish colour that is crafted with 6 wheat on the top and bottom and 3 leaves of any type in the centre of the crafting bench. Thatching looks the same as a Hale Bale, only without the string holding it together.

Goosegrass, Nettles, and Thistle

Goosegrass is a plant that grows in any forest, but is most common in the Highlands. Walking through goosegrass results in it sticking to you, taking up one of your unoccupied armour slots and slowing you down. Walking through it at all also slows you down, much like cobwebs, making this plant dangerous when fighting mobs

Nettles can only spawn in Dark oak and Highland forests. Nettles stay low to the ground, if they are walked on by a player they are inflicted with Poison. Nettles can be collected and made into a healthy soup

Thistles are a new type of two high flowers. They can be ground into purple dye. They hurt the player if walker through

Deer

Deer are a new mob found in all forested environments, much like Wolf's they have different textures depending on the biome

When killed, Deers drop Venison, a new edible meat

Like Goats, Deers will try to charge the player. Also like Goats, after hitting a block deer will drop and antler

Fog

Fog is a new weather type, lowering the amount the player can see for a short time and allowing a few Mobs to spawn, particularly endermen

Shelf Fungus

A new decorative block that grows on trees

Wildcats

Wildcats are a new ambient Mob, they share a model with Ocelots and Cats and they drop string when killed

The Mushroom Grotto

Oh yes. A new forest of giant mushrooms and mycelium. This biome is very rare. The Mobs that Spawn here will be discussed later

Mushroom Wood

Much like the nether mushrooms, overworld mushrooms are now a woodtype. The mushroom stem can be stripped and converted into all wood blocks. Mushroom wood is white in colour.

New Mushrooms

Yep. There is now a mushroom for every colour of dye in the game. Mushrooms can also now be ground into dye

Here's what all those mushrooms could look like (minus brown and red of course):

(Note: this is based on design, not colour)

Before moving on, sniffers don't just get the Crann Bethadh Sprout. They get a new plant for every dye type in the game

Plus, they can dig up two new mushrooms exclusive to them, when ground these mushrooms become two new dye types… Well, not quite. They Become Rose Dye and Spring Green Dye, the two removed wool colours. This is the only way to get these mushrooms and these dyes. This would make the sniffer more worth the work put in to get one and create a lot of more strange decoration choices

Here's what they COULD look like (note: again, colours don't line up)

Mushroom bricks

Smelting the Mushroom blocks (not the stem, the block itself) creates mushroom bricks: multicoloured bricks taking on the patterning of the mushroom used to make them

Mushroom bricks can be made into stairs, slabs and walls

Puffball Mushrooms and Faerie Rings

Both exclusive to the mushroom forest.

Puffball mushrooms are brown in colour and are plants that stay on the ground, when walked over they release spores that inflict harmful status effects such as Poison, blindness, slowness, weakness, nausea, lethitatvia, and mining fatigue

Faerie Rings are Rings of mushrooms that take up one block on the ground (they also come in all colours)

If a player steps on one it is like they are walking through cobwebs, and upon getting out they will be inflicted with slowness.

If a mob steps in one they completely freeze and their AI is disabled until they are knocked out or the ring is broken.

This would help allow players to use Mobs as decoration without lagging there game

New Structures

Bothies

A bothy is a public structure found typically in the Highlands, there small houses for folks to take shelter in.

Bothines can spawn in any woodland biomes, they'll appear as a simple wooden house. Inside Bothies will have a chest with low level loot and a bed.

Occasionally, suspicious sand,mud, gravel or snow will spawn outside the bothy (depending on the biome), these typically have low level loot but items such as armour Trims or record disks can be dug up

Stone Works

Based on the numerous palaeolithic celtic stoneworks,these are small abiant structures spawning in the Dark Oak, Highland and Wisteria forests, as well as Heather Moorlands, Snowy Tundras, Wetlands and Mushroom Grottos

There would be many variants of these structures resembling stone circles, stone henges, standing stones, stone portals and cobbled walls.

All of these are made from base stone blocks, though sometimes other blocks can be found like chalk flooring or trees/water spawning in the centre of a stone circle

Sometimes, though rarely, these structures could spawn with a “Stone Holder” a new block that holds a tool or weapon (similar to the myth of the sword and the stone) these can be moved with silk touch. The player can remove the weapon, which will always be made of iron (that's important for later) and could have some low-level enchamtmants

Occasionally, these can also structures spawn with suspicious dirt, which can be dug up with the brush. Pottery sherds are more common in these structures, but apart from that, they exist only as set dressing ;)

Castle Ruins

A more substantial ruin, Castle Ruins can spawn basically anywhere, but are most common in Highland forests.

Castle Ruins are winding structures, they have a Dungeon below with Gortach or Bog spawners in the cells. The main ruin itself is made up of narrow passageways, imagine a smaller version of the bastion.

There would be numerous loot chests around, but upon opening one, a new mob would be summoned called a ■■■■■■

This mob will be discussed later :)

The Beast's Lair

An underground structure most common under the mountains or Highland forests

Made up of narrow passages leading to open rooms filled with gold blocks, loot chests containing riches and even some new vaults. There's also a shocking amount of skulls littered around

And of course the new boss here: The Wyvern

The Wyvern is a draconic boss mob spawning only hear, it has 4 legs and two wings and is bright red (Note: no. Wyvern never meant a dragon with only 4 limbs. That is a modern addition. Wyvern and dragons were different because of what they breathed)

The Wyvern is very powerful up close and can attack from far away with its poisonous breath

Upon its defeat the Wyvern will drop copious amounts of gold and emeralds that it ate, perhaps even some diamonds if your lucky

Faerie Mounds

Spawning exclusively in the Wisteria Forests, Highland Forests and Mushroom Grottos, these are small dirt hills with a spawner inside and a handful of loot chests

They are essentially fae Dungeons

The mobs that Spawn here will be: you guessed it, discussed later

Clochan + The Dubnos Tunnels

Clochans are typically just an abiant structures common in the Highlands, small cobblestone huts with nothing interesting about them.

But occasionally, they lead to something greater. Some of them spawn with holes leading to a second structure made up of 5 rooms, oriented in this pattern:

In the centre room are 5 stones, each baring a carving of one of the 5 element symbols (note: these are taken from the unused painting textures, with a new one added for wood), at the base of all these stones is a new kind of Vault “The Fae Vault” exclusive to this structure and the beast's lair

The carvings look like this:

The goal of this structure would be to go to each of the challenge rooms, each of with have there own stone with a carving, right click on said carving to indicate you have completed the room, and once all 4 rooms are complete return to the centre room to click on the craving that was not represented by one of the carvings in the other rooms. Getting this right results in the appearance of 5 Fae keys from the stones. These keys can be used on the fey vaults to claim the structures loot

Failure to complete the structure will be indicated by the carvings glowing Red and numerous waves of Mobs spawning

The challenge rooms each contain a challenge pertaining to their element: the fire room is filled with fire, the water room is flooded, the air room requires parkour, the earth room is a Maze and the plant room is filled with Sweet Berries, Goosegrass, Nettles, Thistles, Puffball mushrooms and Faerie Rings (yes I know mushrooms aren't plants, shush.)

On top of that, there are several spawners for the fae in this structure, with various types appearing to attack you. Though these spanners will be deactivated upon completing a room

(Note: carved stones can be moved with silk touch)

They fae Mobs that Spawn in these will be discussed later.

These structures would create unique challenges for the player and would bring more life to these biomes, encouraging exploration.

(Part 1/5)

#ivys hypothetical updates #hypothetical Minecraft updates #hypothetical mc updates #mc ideas #mc suggestions #minecraft ideas #minecraft suggestions #minecraft #part 1/5 #part 1

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ozarkthedog · 1 year

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summary: dieter insists you try some of his stash.

kinktober i: drug use

warnings: 18+ only. mdni. morally gray!dieter bravo x fem assistant!reader. slight dubcon. drug use (coke). coercion. fingering. oral sex (fem receiving). cumming untouched. no beta.

word count: 1.7k

author’s note: i've had this thot since i saw the movie. sry not sry. “disaster racoon” via @ghotifishreads 💙

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

“C’mere, pretty girl, want you to try something.” Dieter beckons from a dimly lit corner of his suite.

The hotel door makes a deafening thud as it shuts. The supple carpet feels divine on your bare feet but the dark gold color palette of the room along with the heady smell unsettles you.

He sinks into the lush couch with a sigh draped in a brown fur coat. He looks rough around the edges. Long days on set with nothing to do in between takes have taken a toll on him.

He leans over a glass coffee table that’s littered with sordid paraphernalia and snatches a small, black vile. In his haste, he knocks over a bottle filled with tiny pills sending them rolling in different directions.

“Shit-” He scrambles to catch them as they roll off the table and onto the rug below. He waves his hand dismissively at the floor and sends you a quirky smile. “We’ll find ‘em when we need ‘em.”

You politely smile before shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You were unsure why the Oscar winner had invited you up to his room. You’d chatted with him a few times since the movie began production but not to the point where you thought you should be alone with him.

Constantly shifting your eyes from the illusive man to the carpet and back again. He hums a tune you’ve never heard as he taps out the contents of the black vial. The melody sticks like molasses in your brain.

Dieter taps a little mound of white onto one of the various script edits before flicking his eyes up to you. He ponders for a moment, his eyes blinking slowly behind his dark brown shades before he snaps back to reality.

He points to the small pile of powder with a grin, “Have you ever tried this?”

“What is it?” You eye him suspiciously.

He slowly licks his lips as they pull into a sly grin, “Cocaine.”

“Uh, no. I don’t do drugs.” You answer, hugging your arms around yourself.

He tuts and cocks his head. “That’s a shame. They’re really fun.”

Wariness slinks up your spine as he bends his head to the script and snorts loudly, sucking up some of the power in one inhale before collapsing back onto the couch. A deep, satisfied groan rumbles from his bare chest as his fur coat splays open and exposes his almost naked body aside from his gray boxers.

You gather up the nerve to speak after a few uncomfortable, silent minutes. “Did you call me up here for a reason, Mr. Bravo?”

“Wanted someone to keep me company.” He drawls, rubbing a hand through his auburn curls. “That’s not so bad is it?” He flashes his teeth in a silly grin before sitting up suspiciously fast.

“C'mere. Try it.” He offers, pointing to the script. “Got all night to let loose.”

“I don’t think so.” You softly reply. You curse yourself for not sounding stronger.

“Come on. One lil’ sniff.”

“Dieter, please.” You bite your tongue in frustration.

But he was right. You did need to let loose. The director told you to take some time for yourself when they weren’t filming. But doing drugs with Dieter Bravo of all people? You didn’t see that as a part of your self care routine.

Still. The itch to unwind and have fun called to you.

You sigh through your nose and give one last vain attempt. “I don’t feel comfortable inhaling your script coke.” You say dismissively, waving a careless hand at the table.

“There is another way…” He trails off with a smirk, like a cat that got the cream. His eyes slink down your body and narrow in on your hands that are folded perfectly in your lap.

“Lie back and spread your legs.” Dieter says with a tilt of his head as he shuffles from his seat and kneels on the ground next to you.

Your mind short circuits. “Excuse me?” You gasp, incredulously.

He quirks a brow. “You didn’t want to snort it, so your bloodstream is the next best option.”

Another gasp tears from your throat. “You mean?”

“That’s right.” He raises his hand, wiggling 2 thick fingers in front of your face. “I’ll push a tiny bit of the coke into your pussy.” He says, nonchalantly before continuing. “Takes a bit longer but you should start feeling really good in about half an hour.”

Nervous laughter bubbles up your throat. Not only were you considering doing drugs with Dieter, now the award winning actor was going to finger you too.

“Come on. It’s just a little bit of coke.” He emphasizes with a pinch of his fingers. “You need a break. I can see it on that pretty face of yours. You’re begging to break free.”

Great. This disaster racoon of a man could read you like a book. This is just what you needed.

You grit your teeth but succumb to the pressure of the handsome man. “Fine. Whatever. Let’s just do this.”

Dieter snickers and claps his hands together. “Thatta girl!”

You sink into the oversized chair with your heart in your throat and pray you survive the night.

The older man tenderly slides his hands up your bare legs, drawing patterns where your skirt meets your thighs before pushing the thin material up exposing your panties.

You lock eyes with him as his fingers dance over the soft cotton. Dragging out the inevitable, and driving you crazy, he finally slides your panties down and pockets the fabric without you noticing.

Dieter takes a long beat to stare at your exposed core. He makes no attempt at hiding his gaze before sending you a wink. “This’ll be fun.”

You swallow down the anxious lump in your throat and try to relax into the plush cushion.

Dieter gently drags his fingers up the naked seam of you before teasing one finger between your folds. Duel moans fill the room as he swiftly adds a second heavy finger into your channel, opening you up for him.

He thrusts lazily into your core, getting his fingers nice and wet with your shiny slick. Your eyes open when your core suddenly feels empty and watch him roll those two same sticky fingers in a small pile of coke.

“Ready?” He asks as he turns back to his place between your legs.

Your tongue darts out to lick your dry lips before sending him a nod.

“I’ve got you.” He reassures with a fond tone.

He parts your folds with his other hand and slowly presses his drug coated fingers into your warmth. He doesn’t stop until he bottoms out and his knuckles are seated against the rump of your ass.

Dieter hisses when you involuntarily clench. “Shit–”

“Sorry. Can’t help it.” You mumble, trying to stay as still as possible despite having an A-List Actor literally pump drugs into you.

“Don’t be.” He purrs and starts thrusting his fingers in and out ever so slowly.

Your breath hitches as he slides his fingers along your velvet channel. The pressure tugs deep in your belly and you can’t help but mewl under his touch.

“Is this part of it?” You squeak as he slots the pad of his thumb over your clit and swirls tight circles over the tiny button.

“The quicker you relax the better you’ll feel.” He insists as he watches his fingers disappear between your dripping folds.

You notice behind his shades that his pupils are blown wide and he looks just as wrecked as you. Dieter groans when your hips rise and chase his touch, greedy for more.

“Feelin’ good, pretty girl?”

The older man grazes a spot that sucks the air from your lungs. You writhe on the chair and wrap your legs around his broad shoulders before you realize what you’re doing.

Your blood boils and turns to raspberry jam as the drug begins to take effect. Every nerve in your body shimmers and you feel like you can run a marathon and fly at the same time.

Your shirt feels tight and restrictive. The room feels 10x hotter than it did when you first arrived. In a rush, you yank your blouse off your body and sink back into the chair with only your bra remaining as the air cools your sweltering flesh.

“Fuck, Dieter.” You rasp as the pleasure mounts.

“That’s it. Let the drug work its magic.” He breaks free from your legs, sliding his fingers out from your warmth. You whine from the loss and he playfully tsks at you.

“Hold still, pretty girl. Don’t wanna make a mess.” He smothers your exposed core with a heavy palm coated in white. “Perfect, puffy pussy. All ripe and juicy.” He groans before slotting his searing mouth over your core.

You moan wantonly as he eats you alive. He’s like a man untamed as he licks from your wet puckered hole to your throbbing clit. His tongue finds every white morsel and swallows it down along with your slick. He teases your opening with his tongue before pushing into your heat and groaning into your folds.

Your fingers dig into his messy curls as you ride out your pleasure on his

face. His mustache tickles your tiny nub eliciting silken bliss to race up your spine.

“Come in my mouth, pretty girl. Wanna feel you fall apart.” He says, tearing himself away from your drenched core for a moment before diving back in like a man who's gone without water for days.

At his words your brain shuts down. The surge of adrenaline mixed with lust fogs your senses and you drown in mind numbing pleasure.

You come with a ragged wail, humping Dieter’s face like it was your last act in this world. A deep, ravenous growl rumbles in his chest and his fingers dig into your thighs as his body shakes between your legs. He greedily swallows down the heady mix of your slick and the drug, lapping up every drop he can.

“Dieter, that was-” You search for the right words but they elude you. Your nerves feel like they're being pumped full of sunlight and it distracts you. All you can do is sigh and catch your breath.

Your eyes whip open when you hear the man curse. “What is it?” Everything alright?”

The lower half of his face is shiny with hints of white nestled in the corners of his mouth. “Came in my goddamn boxers.” He grumbles.

You can’t help but laugh as he drags you off the chair and into his lap. He wraps his fur coat around your naked frame and nuzzles your head into his chest.

“See? Drugs aren’t so bad.” Dieter quips.

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