#the theme was red string of fate!

[zkyeline]

Extremely cute commission to work on for @anonymous1223341111 !!!! Giggling kicking my feet all the way through, thank you so much for letting me do this!

If interested, you can check my comms status on my pinned post 💚

[mawlaeina]

отчаянный | Desperate

(adj.) having a great need or desire for something.

🍊 content: Obsessed! Childe x fem! reader, implied red string of fate (sort of)

✦ content w: religious themes (if you squint), praise and worship (if you squint?), implied violence and murder by Childe, general angst

Childe had to fight.

Ajax was not older than 14 years old when he suddenly fell into the abyss on a regular snowy day in Snezhnaya. He closed his eyes for one moment, and the next thing he knew he was falling down towards dark colored waters of what looked like a dimly lit cave.

In seconds, Ajax felt himself crashing down harshly against the surface of the water before he began to slowly sink. He shivered, the water constantly staying icy and cold even when he was below the surface, and there was also an uncanny atmosphere that he felt as he continued to sink.

In a panic, Ajax swam up—the feeling of such a heavy weight on his entire body almost choked him off of oxygen as he managed to break to the surface of the water.

He gasps for air as he steadies himself before be swims to some nearby land. He clings to the sandy ground once he was out of the water, choking and gasping as the density grew greater on his body—as if it was going to crush his lungs and ribs at any given moment.

But he manages to grow accustomed to it a bit as he composes himself once more. He lets out an exasperated sigh as he asks himself what was happening.

He looked around for a moment and realized that the entire place was packed with wolves with shadow-like features that were focused on him upon his arrival.

The creatures were simply staring at Ajax with some kind of dark madness and hunger—albeit slow, some were already approaching him on the little island that he was on.

He had nothing to use to defend himself with—no armor, no shield, no weapons. When one of the wolves finally dashed forward with a jaw slightly hanging and ready to bite, all Ajax could think of was to run.

And he did run away—his legs moving light and fast as he tried to avoid all the other wolves that were coming in front of him. He was running even though his legs were tired, even when his lungs started to feel like they were bursting again.

For a moment, he was happy as he managed to lose sight of the wolves.

That was until he tripped.

He tripped over his own feet and began to roll down painfully against the rough and rigid ground. Once he finally landed at the bottom, his body had taken multiple fractures on the torso, and bleeding wounds on his face and arms.

Ajax groaned in pain, reaching and placing his hands on his hair before weakly clenching his hand on it. Ajax could hear the wolves coming as they howl with distorted voices from the direction he was just running away from.

He began to panic again, his breathing frantic and scattered all over the place. He closed his eyes for a moment as the darkness began to settle in his vision. For a moment he saw glimpses of mental images of his family—his mother, father, older and younger siblings.

Was this it? Was this his demise? He felt like crying, he didn’t want to die, not now, not when he was this young.

Why? Why? Why?

He questions desperately to the gods and celestia.

Fight.

His eyes opened, widening in shock as he wore a stunned expression on his face. He heard someone—the voice clear as day, with words spoken firmly as the frozen ice of Snezhnayan fjords, yet it was somehow spoken with the same desperation that he felt.

Fight, please. I’m begging you.

The voice’s tone broke momentarily, and Ajax could somehow picture someone in front of him as he lay on the ground—the person pleading, their warm and ticklish tears fell from their eyes and onto Ajax’s cheeks. Though their face was blurry and could be vaguely seen, he sensed some familiarity coming from them—even though he remembers no one with such a voice.

I don’t want you to die.

In an instant, Ajax rolls to the side as he avoids a claw strike from a wolf that had already came up to him. His back bumps into a nearby stone wall, but he manages to take a sharp rock before standing up with haste.

His hands are tensed, clenching the sharp stone and wielding it like a kitchen knife. Despite the state of his body, he felt the urge, the need to move and survive against the monster.

Ajax dashes forward as the shadow-like wolf lunges towards him. Before the ruined animal could bite his head off, he slides under the wolf and stabs its hide before slicing through its underbelly using the stone. Once the wolf’s body passes over him, it collapses onto the ground with a pool of blood quickly forming under its lower half.

For a moment, there was some sort of adrenaline that came over Ajax—one that made him feel stronger, more confident to survive, and his fresh kill ignited a newly sense of pride of winning.

He liked how it felt for some reason.

It wasn’t until the adrenaline wore off rather quickly. He coughed out some blood as he drops the sharp bloody stone to the ground, just before he fell to his knees—eventually, his body collapses onto the ground just like the wolf before passing out.

—

Childe had to survive.

When Ajax woke up, he found himself laying on the ground—his body covered in bandages. He groaned as the pain began to strike all over his body. He looked around for a moment and saw numerous wolves laying dead and bloodied everywhere.

He doesn’t remember doing any of this, and it somehow bothered him.

The next thing he knew, he was took in by a stranger who introduced herself as Skirk. He was taught multiple skills on how to survive in this place, which was called the Abyss. Skirk teaches Ajax how to survive and pass through the regions of the Abyss unharmed, and how to wield his hydro vision in the abyss—even though he wasn’t aware that he received a vision at all in the first place.

After a month of rigorous and intense training, Skirk teaches Ajax to wield Foul Legacy. For the first few tries, transforming and using Foul Legacy for even just a few seconds put such a heavy strain on his body, and he eventually ended up in critical condition every time.

When he passes out, he dreamt or had short visions. He saw someone making tea on a kitchen counter, their faces were blurry and could be vaguely seen but he could feel some sort of warmth emanating from them. Ajax somehow knew it was the same person who talked some sense into him on the first day that he fell into the Abyss.

He holds his hand out, reaching it gently towards the person.

He wakes up, his breathing heavy as he sweats profusely. Skirk was confused as to why Ajax woke up in such a way, yet she dismisses it as an insignificant nightmare that the young child probably had.

However, in Ajax’s case, he wanted more of that warmth that he felt just now. How long has it been since he’d touch something warm after falling into the cold Abyss? He doesn’t recall, he doesn’t remember—so, naturally, as a young adolescent, he wanted more of it, he craved it.

From then on, Ajax began to train harder, harsher—pushing his body to his limits everyday. He got stronger, and that’s what he told himself what his training was for—to get stronger, to be stronger.

To conquer the world.

A merely shallow form of self-manipulation to deny a more selfish reason he had in mind.

In truth, he wanted to see and feel more of that person, and he did—so long as he passed out. He passes out more frequently now as he continuously extends his limits—pushing himself until his body was in pain from just moving a hand.

Everytime he would pass out, he would constantly try to reach for them when they weren’t looking, he would try to see their face clearer, hear their voice clearer as they talked to him for even just a second. Eventually, he realizes they were a year younger or older than him—if not, they were perhaps the same age as he was.

But as another month passed, he began to pass out less, and when he did pass out, if wouldn’t be long enough to see that person again. While it confirmed that he did get stronger, he was irritated by the absence of such a warm presence. The only light that he had in the Abyss, and now it felt like he was losing it.

Stronger, I need to get stronger.

Ajax thought to himself angrily as he began to train even without Skirk. He continued to push his limits—training in the dark and heavy waters until his lungs almost gave out, training against stronger enemies using his Foul Legacy form, training against every other weapon that he could find in the Abyss. His bloodlust began to grow by the day as he relentlessly hunted the monsters that resided in the Abyss.

Yet for some reason, he no longer saw that person when he passed out. Did he recover too quickly? Were they going to leave him behind now? They wouldn’t right? Right?

He could feel himself losing his sanity, his thoughts full of silent pleas for that person to appear at least once every other day or so.

No, no, no, please. Don’t leave me here, come back.

COME BACK!

—

Childe needed to breathe.

When Ajax came back to Teyvat, he returned to his family cabin in Snezhnaya—to which he was welcomed back warmly and gladly with thankful sobs from his family members. Much to his surprise, he had been only missing for 3 days in Teyvat despite having trained for 3 months in the Abyss.

While Ajax missed his family so much, his thoughts were still plagued with the unknown warmth that he felt in the Abyss. Yes, he enjoyed the warm hugs and such affectionate love coming from his family, he enjoyed the warm sensation of his hands when faced to the fire of the cabin fireplace—but those, for some odd reason, could not compare to the comfort that he felt and witnessed first hand in the Abyss.

They were simply not enough.

It was a week after his return that Ajax looked up to the sky. The last shimmering gloss on his eyes reflected the clear blue skies of Snezhnaya that day, and he wondered if that was just the Abyss playing tricks on his head.

He sighed as he plopped down on the snowy ground. The Snezhnayan cold no longer affected him—not when the Abyss conditioned him with colder temperatures.

His hands twitch for a moment, just like it had been for the last week. He needed to move, to fight. He thought he could control himself, that he could return to just being his mother and father’s son.

But he couldn’t, and on that day, he ended up massacring all the ruin guards he could find in his region using his Foul Legacy form.

Ajax, stop, your body can’t handle any more stress.

His eyes widened after hearing a worried voice just as he was about to move to the next region—a small wave of warmth passes by him, the sensation was weak but familiar. He pauses for a moment, waiting for them to speak again—but there was only silence.

Where are you?

He looked around the snowy terrain, still in his Foul Legacy form. It took him a few seconds of silence before his body began to feel heavy—coughing up blood and collapsing onto the snow as he turns back into his normal self.

Where are you?

He repeats inside his head with desperation. He stood up and began to walk around, his other leg limping as he does so. His mouth was slightly agape, taking in shallow breaths of the thin air as blood trickled down his mouth.

Please, please. Answer me, where are you?

When he finally turned his head, he saw you.

Clear as day, warm as the sun.

His breath hitched as he felt your hand on his cheeks, your warmth constantly emanating and burning through his cold skin. He felt like crying right then and there, but he wondered if you were real—if this was real. He raised his hand to touch yours, and it did.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, your voice full of worry—yet its so soothing to his ears. It’s that same voice that Ajax could never mistake for someone else. Ajax just stares at you for a minute, too stunned to speak as he takes in your face. “Hey, you’re badly injured, we should take you home.” You suggest.

Ajax seemed to realize something for a moment. While he knew that the person he’s seen and heard in the Abyss was you, you were acting like a stranger to him—it confused him.

“You’re injured.” Ajax pointed out abruptly as he gently takes your hand off his cheeks and spins you around lightly, which catches you off guard for a second. “Who did this to you?” He asks, his voice low and angry as he runs a finger down your back—your spine crawls at the painful sensation.

“I got hit by a ruin guard earlier and passed out by that tree earlier.” You explained rather awkwardly. “But I’m fine now, so you there’s nothing to worry about. We should get you home since you’re in an even worse condition.” You say as you turned around to face him. “Can you tell me where you live? I’ll help you get there.”

Ajax tells you where he lives, and it surprises both of you that you two were neighbors. What a coincidence, how come you never saw in each other?

It was already midnight when Ajax returned to his family cabin, with you supporting him from the side. His mother was relieved to see his son back, but her concerned grew when she saw him covered in dirt and blood. She thanked you for accompanying him during his journey home.

You told them that you were going to leave, and Ajax couldn’t help but feel devastated by the idea—so he speaks to his mother, saying how you were also injured.

Naturally, as a loving and concerned adult that she was, Ajax’s mother told you that she could at least treat your injuries before you leave, and that you could stay the night in their cabin and return home the next morning.

The look of reluctance painted on your face somehow ticked something inside Ajax’s mind. He never questioned about what happened in the Abyss—how he heard your voice when he was on the brink of death, when he was barely going to survive. He simply concluded that it just happened, that your fates were intertwined so strongly that your voice reached him even when the two of you were worlds apart.

Don’t you feel the same? Why do you want to leave?

He wanted to be angry, but he can’t find it in himself to be angry at you—not when he thinks you’ve done so much for him, not when you saved him from the brink of death in the Abyss. You were his salvation, his one and only savior in this world—not even a single person from celestia came to put him back into his senses at the time, and for that he no longer believes in them.

He believes in you.

When you finally agreed to his mother’s offer, he felt glad—an understatement to the joyful emotion that he had swirling in his chest. He lets you sleep inside his room after being treated, and when you fell asleep, he took it upon himself to watch you.

He was kneeling on the ground, arms and head resting on the side of the bed. He continues to watch you in silence for a moment before he briefly caresses your cheek.

My god.

He lifts himself up a bit, enough that he hovered over your sleeping face. He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead, feeling the comforting warmth that you had stinging his cold lips.

My universe.

—

Childe suffocated.

When he finally got recruited into the fatui, he was given a nickname, “Childe”.

Acknowledged by the Tsaritsa and the organization for having great strength at such a young age, he was given a chance to be promoted—to become a harbinger, but he had to sacrifice something or someone.

He was made to choose.

Blinded by the loyalty that he swore, he chose to sacrifice someone who would get in the way of the fatui ambition that he had. You.

With fates intertwined as strong as celestia, he was told by the Fatui that you would hinder his progress, his strength.

You were a distraction.

While Childe did return to be a fairly normal person ever since he had you by his side, the warmth that he felt from you slowly faded into something more common. Your warm hugs no longer felt special over time—it was as if you turned into another fireplace for him to stare at.

Snezhnaya was not as cold as the Abyss, and so he disregarded the need for something as warm as you.

So there he stood, in front of you with a knife held dangerously close to your neck. His hands trembled, and he seemingly fought every cell of his body from hesitating.

I just have to kill her.

He thought to himself, his inner voice lacking any sense of determination to do so.

You, yourself, was not surprised that he had come to kill you.

You knew this day would come, and you just hoped it wouldn’t happen to his family. While you were clearly against him joining the Fatui, you said nothing—a decision that you’ve come to regret every day.

As his hands trembled, you smiled sadly—closing your eyes as you held his hands. For a moment, his eyes widened, and everything turned silent as the sound of blood splattered on the ground.

Childe did not come home to his family that day like he said he would.

—

Childe has forgotten how to breathe.

“What do you mean you don’t know about big sister?” Teucer pouted, and Childe simply laughed confusedly at the young ginger.

“Who are you talking about, Teucer?” Childe asks his younger brother without a single shine of sunlight reflecting his eyes.

“You know who I’m talking about!”

“Big sister Tonia?” Childe raises a brow, but Teucer shakes his head with a frown—he was getting upset with his big brother now.

“The one you always brought to go ice fishing with us.” Childe doesn’t know what his younger brother was talking about.

“I don’t recall bringing anyone other than you when we go ice fishing by the lake, Teucer.” Childe spoke honestly and knelt down to Teucer’s level. “Buddy, are you sure you aren’t tired?” Childe asks worriedly.

Teucer shakes his head, still frowning.

Everything was so odd for Childe ever since he woke up this morning. Everyone in his family cabin had asked him about someone he doesn’t know about—his family claims that the two of them were close, very close, and they wondered why Childe no longer remembers them.

Who on earth were they talking about?

Childe asks himself as he holds Teucer’s hand as they walk to the frozen lake nearby. He wonders who that person was, and how he forgot about them if they were so close.

Once they arrived to the frozen lake, Childe couldn’t help but stare at the scenery for a moment. It was as if he was stunned for a moment from the aching sensation that he deeply felt in his chest.

It was the same lake that he’d visited in his entire life, yet for some reason…

Why is it so cold?

✦ this is kind of bad.. idk how to feel about this

✦ I didn’t want to write this because I hate angst + my sweet boy, but if I suffer I’m dragging everyone else with me

✦ would rather praise and worship him instead ngl

✦ there’s gonna be an extended version of this if I don’t get lazy soon so look out for that

✦ Yes, there’s ivantill reference there

[r0bzombixx]

— smoke signals, phoebe bridgers

[downybirbs]

My page art for @newscoozines, couldn’t resist bitter marspero hehehe 😊💙🍭

[ryuusea]

sherliam ❤️💙 I never got around to posting this print freebie from my last merch preorder run!

[malka-lisitsa]

All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a thousand enemies

and if they catch you, they will KILL YOU

But first?

They have to CATCH YOU- ©

[hp-fanfic-archive]

Dragon Heartstrings by JET_Playin Pairing: Harry/Draco Rating: E Word Count: 23k Podfic available here Read by: timothysboxers Length: 2-3 hours Draco has seen the strings for almost as long as he can remember, but they don't mean anything. Anything at all…. find the full podfic library here

[madaqueue]

PUSH AND PULL

something silent and intangible ties you to sukuna, and has for as long as you've known each other. but you can't help but wonder what would happen if you pull on that little red string of fate, bringing him closer than just friends.

pairing: ryomen sukuna x f!reader

themes/content: modern non-curse au, best friends to ???. suggestive/smut. language, pet names (pretty, baby, sweetheart), he calls you a slut but like as a joke, alcohol consumption, semi-public. 18+, MDNI (wc: 2.6k)

It was always just you and Sukuna, for as long as you could remember. Even as kids, the two of you found your home in the corner of the playground after he pushed someone off a swing you wanted to use; in highschool, you etched your names into the desks during some mundane class, landing both of you in detention. He wove his way into your life, and you into his, mending the frayed threads left behind by scissors and rough hands.

So of course neither of you ever dated - you didn’t need anybody else. Nobody would put up with (nor could handle) him and his moods. And you, well, nobody would dare get near you so long as you had him around.

To his credit, it took very little to scare any potential suitors off, oftentimes nothing more than a glare or a firm hand on their shoulder. And he seemed to understand that no one would ever quite compare to you, everyone else too boring, too bland, too pathetic to deserve his attention.

And so, you played along, this little game of pushing and testing and teasing and almost almost almost.

Yet, there was always something in the way, some invisible force keeping you from ever bridging the gap. “Just friends,” you both called it, a name for the insurmountable chasm between you. It was silent, unspoken, but always felt, a magnetic pull that kept you close but never allowed you to touch.

Tonight in particular, at this shitty house party of a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, that pull feels almost tangible, lingering in the hazy air.

Music blares, flashing LEDs illuminating the thin layer of sweat covering both of your bodies. Every thump of the bass electrifies the air, your heartbeat vibrating in tune. Tattooed hands hold your hips firmly against his body, your ass pressed to his pelvis.

You love this song. He loves you loving it.

That smug grin plays across his face, shadows cast by the flickering party lights above making it appear far more sinister to someone who doesn’t know Sukuna. But to you, he’s perfectly content.

When the chorus hits, you bend at the waist, dropping forward and grinding against him. Always such a fucking tease, he thinks as a quiet laugh escapes his lips. His fingertips tighten their hold but he shows no other sign of his sinful desires (he was proud of his restraint, even after all these years).

Bending your knees, the pathetically thin material of your dress rides up just enough that a prouder man would feel obligated to look away. Sukuna, of course, just chuckles as you look over your shoulder.

“You look like a slut.” Bright white teeth shine through his grin.

“At least I can dance,” you retort, hips circling against the front of his jeans. “You look stiffer than a dead guy’s dick.”

Throwing his head back, a laugh overtakes him, seemingly louder than the shitty pop song playing through the speakers. Pink hair catches under the red lights, absolutely electrifying. “Jesus, I forgot how filthy that fuckin’ mouth of yours can get.”

Fully turning around, you press your chest against his, your dress doing little to hide the way your nipples harden at the mild friction. The now-empty cup in your hand dangles at your side as you stand on your toes, lips brushing against his ear. “I’m gonna go get another drink to wash out this ‘filthy fuckin’ mouth,’” you shout over the music.

Instead of verbally responding, Sukuna steps back, slapping your ass as you make your way to the kitchen.

You know, of course, that he wouldn’t let anyone else talk to him the way you do, and you, of course, wouldn’t dare let anyone touch you the way he does (and he sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone else do it, either).

The kitchen is brighter than the surrounding chaos, your eyes blurry as they adjust. Finding your way to the stash of bottles, you pour yourself some combination of juice and liquor. The fake marble of the table is cold against your skin as you hop onto it, crossing your legs as the liquid hits your lips.

It’s certainly palatable, you shrug.

You bask in the muted silence for a moment before it’s broken by Sukuna’s loud footsteps marching towards you.

He always commanded attention so effortlessly, eyes turning to follow his path. At first you thought it was the visible tattoos lining his skin and notably unnatural hair, but over time you grew to wonder if there was something more innate, something living within his soul that evoked the unyielding focus from those around him.

Ruby eyes lock on yours (surely an effect of the colored LEDs still flashing nearby) as he glides in front of you. Your legs part, dangling over the edge of the countertop as he slots himself between them, arms encircling you.

Placing his palms onto the table behind your waist, the scent of whatever expensive cologne he probably stole this week hangs on his clothes as he leans closer.

“Thought I finally got rid of you when you didn’t come back.” His voice is gravelly, lips pulled into a leering smile.

“Maybe I just finally got sick of dancing with someone who only wants to paw at me,” you chuckle sarcastically. Lifting the cup to your mouth, you take another swig. “And you’re awfully close for someone who smells like shitty beer and sweat.”

“Oh really?”

Before you can respond, his lips are trailing up your neck, his nose pushing your hair to the side as he nuzzles into your skin.

His breath is hot, tickling your earlobe as he lowly whispers, “Well you smell lovely.”

On instinct your legs try to close around him, a desperate attempt to quell the ache growing between them. You hate his stupid fucking voice, his annoying flirting, how he always goes just a little too far pushing your buttons.

But he’s your friend.

(And that’s all you’ll ever be to him, too).

All you can do is chug your drink, hoping the alcohol dampens the racing pulse of your heart.

“Thanks, I actually pay for my perfume, unlike you, you fucking delinquent,” you manage to spit out.

Finally he pulls back, eyes locked on you. There’s an intensity behind them you can’t quite name, but one you’ve grown familiar with.

He’s playing with you.

A low hum vibrates from his throat in response, his gaze traveling down to your lips. “What’re you drinking?”

He changes the subject, as he always does when things threaten to get too serious, too real. Always running away, afraid to face the ever-insistent voice inside him that evokes a pause the moment before he hurls himself over the edge into desire.

You smirk. “Why don’t you try it?”

Bringing the cup to his face, it rests on his lower lip as you tilt it upwards, the saccharine liquid pouring down his throat. His eyes never leave yours as he swallows. A small trail dribbles down his chin while you place the empty plastic cup onto the counter beside you.

“Messy boy,” you coo, tone as falsely sweet as the drink lingering on his lips.

Grabbing his face, you pull him towards you, close enough you can make out the faint freckles decorating his cheeks. You collect the sugary liquor on your tongue as it travels along his skin, slightly rough from his freshly-shaved stubble. When you reach the corner of his mouth, you place a teasing peck before releasing your grasp.

“Someone should really teach you some manners, ‘Kuna.” And that devilish smile spreads across your face.

You see, you can play with him, too.

He stifles the giddy laugh building in his chest as he fixes his gaze back on you. “And someone should teach you how to make a drink, that shit was nasty.”

“You entitled brat,” you snap back, pushing him away with a hand against his chest. “I make excellent drinks, otherwise why else would you end up drunk on my couch every weekend, hm?”

“Maybe I just like the couch’s company,” he grins, dimples poking through the darkened lines spanning his face.

You’re both just staring at each other, waiting for something to happen, for someone to make a move. The air is electric, buzzing with that imperceptible desire.

Fuck it.

Just as you move to lean into him, a noise cuts through the static.

“Sukuna!” someone calls from the depths of the party.

His head whips around before shooting you an almost apologetic glance. “Guess someone else requires my attention.”

“Wouldn’t wanna keep them waiting for everyone’s favorite asshole,” you mock. With a mirrored smack of his ass, you send him away into the chaos surrounding you.

In his absence, your head swirls, overwhelmed with the alcohol and the lights and the sudden heat in your core.

Just friends.

You’re just friends.

Taking in a steadying breath, your hands shake as you pour another drink.

But at what point does it stop being a game? When do you decide to stop playing?

With a sigh you knock it back in one gulp before wandering between the bodies crowding the space.

The rest of the party is all skin and noise. It’s fluid and blurry and utterly debaucherous, the way you throw your arms around your friends, the way your body moves with each increasingly loud and repetitive song.

By the time the next few hours have passed, your feet start to ache as you make your way from the swath of strangers crowding the makeshift DJ booth at the front of the house.

Stumbling towards the back, a familiar voice calls your name.

“Where ya goin’, pretty?”

Sukuna is sprawled across one of the stained couches lining the walls, an unfamiliar girl hanging on his side. Her hands rest across his chest as her eyes cover you disapprovingly, nails digging into his shirt when you refuse to give her an ounce of attention.

“Lookin’ for somewhere to sit down,” you sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“Got a free seat right here,” he smirks, patting his thigh. This fucker.

An angry glare forms along the girl’s face as she stares at you with a displeased grunt. Crossing your arms, you let out a breathy chuckle. “I would, but I wouldn’t wanna interrupt anything.”

Sukuna never even turns towards the girl who now traces her fingertips down his chest. “Nothin’ to interrupt here, baby.”

Exchanging a quick glance at the increasingly unhappy stranger lounged across him, she lets out an annoyed scoff as she rolls her eyes, finally removing herself from Sukuna. Brushing past you, she tries to shove into your shoulder before she misses, tumbling forward and back onto the dance floor.

You can’t help but giggle at the failed show of dominance, your eyes now finding their way back to Sukuna. He pats his thighs again expectantly, eyebrows quirking as he awaits your response.

He’s fucking with you, of course.

But before you know it, you’re standing between his legs. With a small sigh, you seat yourself on his lap, bare legs straddling him. A whisper of mischief dances behind his eyes while his hands make their way to your hips, holding you firmly in place.

“See? Isn’t this much more comfortable?” he taunts.

Heat builds in your core at how low his voice is, the rumbling of thunder just before a storm.

“Mmm,” you hum, letting your dissatisfaction show as you click your tongue. Wrapping your arms easily around his neck, your fingertips absentmindedly trace the lines of his tattoos to where they end at the neckline of his t-shirt. “It’s a bit better, but something’s still missing.”

“Oh yeah?” When he smiles, the lines adorning his skin crease invitingly. “And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You can’t help but grin silently. Because you can fuck with him, too.

Rolling your hips forward, your clothed pussy drags along the outline of his cock. The firm denim of his jeans provides just enough friction to have you stifling a moan. He inhales sharply through his nose, the soft sound cutting through the static noise surrounding you.

“Isn’t that better?” you coo teasingly as his fingertips dig into your waist.

A choked groan leaves his throat, his inability to let you have the upperhand fighting against the sudden desire to pin you down on this shitty couch and fuck you right here. Attempting to shake the thought off, his head falls forward into your neck.

Of course he’s thought about you like that before - you’re gorgeous, fucking hilarious, and somehow just as stubborn as he is. You’re everything he’s ever wanted.

But some small part of him worries that the moment he pushes you too far, you’ll run, just like everyone else in his life. He was always too intense, too angry, too much. But not to you - you seemed to love him in spite of it, maybe even because of it.

Maybe that’s why he lets himself play this eternal game of cat and mouse, the push and pull.

But fuck, right now he wants to pull.

He wants to pull you against him, dragging you along the length of his hardening cock through his boxers. He wants to pull you up and down as he fucks into you, feeling your warm walls meld around him. He wants to pull your lips apart with his, tasting how sweet you are, whispering things he wouldn’t dare say to anyone else. Anyone but you.

The words feel heavy on the tip of his tongue. I want you. I want you. I want you. They’re too weighted, he worries. Instead, he settles for biting at your neck, hoping that your skin between his teeth will be enough to satiate his body’s need.

“S-shit,” you stammer at the sensations of his canines digging into your flesh. “Acting like a fuckin’ teething puppy, hm? Need someone to train some manners into you? Or do you want me to tell you to sit, stay, tell you you’re doing a good job?”

And he does. But of course, he’d never tell you that.

Instead, he bites harder, leaving dark bruises in his wake, a reminder of his mark on you.

As his lips trace up your neck, he pauses to nibble along your earlobe. “Just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea,” he whispers, his breath hot. “Wouldn’t want anyone taking what’s mine.”

You nearly whimper at the words - his? - but you manage to hold back, instead letting your neediness out with another circle of your hips. He hopes you miss the way his breath catches in his throat at the movement.

“Oh? I’m yours now?” you tease, silently pleading he doesn’t notice the lingering waver in your voice. “Quite possessive, don’t you think, ‘Kuna?”

You feel him chuckle more than you hear it, the warm puffs of air gently blowing against your hair. “I’m only possessive of things I want,” he growls. God, you always loved that rasp in his voice, like a gravel road lining the way home.

At this point, you’re sure your panties are soaked through, the tip of his cock dragging along your clit through them. You’ve never gone this far with him before, never been so bold, so desperate.

And he fucking loves it.

“And what do you want?” Your voice is airy, breathless, as your pace seems to pick up. You’re grateful for the dim LEDs flashing distantly from the depths of the party for hiding the blush undoubtedly dusting your cheeks.

Trailing wet kisses along your jawline, his mouth comes to rest just in front of you. His lips are soft, barely brushing against yours, a few millimeters apart. So close. So fucking close.

“I think it’s rather obvious.” His breath smells like liquor and desire as he whispers, “I want you.”

a/n: getting out of my writing slump by going back to my roots (wanting to fuck sukuna)

[qingxin-dream]

“The Afterparty”

summary | lyney is the face of fontaine’s entertainment industry, stealing hearts with every flourish of his magic. however, in the night, lyney tends to entertain a different kind of crowd.

warnings | written pre-4.0, ooc lyney, light yandere themes (stalking/manipulation/obsession), a sprinkle of smut (creampie/implied dubcon) [18+, MDNI], brief mention of drugs/alcohol, reader is neutral but wears a dress, lyney uses a little french

genre | yandere, slight smut

word count | 1.6k

pairing | lyney x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It’s no mystery that the Great Magician of Fontaine is a man of many talents. His shows are famous across Teyvat for their grandeur and flare. Beautiful venues draped in red curtains frame the scene before a sea of velvety theater seats, skilled acrobats maneuver themselves among rings suspended in the air. Blazes of fire erupt from the stage dramatically. A master of misdirection, the audience falls for his tricks every time as he effortlessly makes the impossible possible.

Lyney is incredibly perceptive. He knows how to read people, as a showman can read his audience, a small smug smile crinkling the corner of his eyes if you’re paying attention. It’s an art form—the way he flips through the pages of your soul, licking his fingers to reveal the next juicy detail with ease. Rarely ever does anyone truly surprise someone as cynical as him, who has been personally privy to the vile nature of the Fatui.

A life of fame is never kind to anyone. The planning and training for shows is incredibly rigorous. Executing the stunts in front of a live audience is equally thrilling and terrifying. Without fail, the crowd is mesmerized and the show ends in a shower of roses and marriage proposals. Rinse and repeat. Though, this is only what Lyney allows the public to know of him.

It’s after hours, when the theater is empty and the stage is dim, when the mask begins to slip.

Lyney is the lead, the star, and as such he maintains his appearance by rubbing elbows with the elite of Fontaine. You’d never catch him amid the nightlife of the city, no. You wouldn’t believe the sheer grandeur of the dazzling, flamboyant parties thrown every night at the country’s largest mansions.

It was Arlecchino who insisted that he attends these lavish parties, rampant with the city’s darkest vices between drugs, alcohol, and sex. But Lyney is a cynical man, so this much is to be expected of wealthy aristocrats.

It was all a façade, couldn’t they see? It sickened him, how gullible people were and how obsessed they were with status. Not to mention the inevitable hordes of women who threw themselves at him.

Nevertheless, Lyney played the game well and with a bewitching, handsome smile. Eventually he had learned to take pleasure in this little game.

As fate would have it, you let your friend convince you to crash one of these extravagant parties with them. You had heard whispers of what takes place at night behind the golden gates of Fontaine’s richest residences. Why wouldn’t you want to have a taste of the finest wine, dressed in designer, getting lost in the magnificent corridors of a packed mansion of partygoers?

It’s something straight from the movies.

You emerged from the bushes to sneak inside, which wasn’t that difficult surprisingly. You wore your best dress, not knowing what to expect. It was a floor length, silky black dress with a sexy slit that traveled all the way up to your mid-thigh. You had a lovely string of pearls dangling from your pretty neck. A classic choice.

Unfortunately for you, Lyney is a man who is extremely attentive to his surroundings. After all, an illusionist must be a master of his environment as well. The moment he spots you, a mere reflection of something new and fascinating for him to discover, he gravitates to you smoothly.

“Mm, I don’t believe we’ve met,” his voice is an alluring, a well-practiced approach. Before you could even answer, Lyney had already taken note of your little mannerisms and nuances just in these few passing moments. He had already adjusted the figurative mirrors of misdirection in this little trick, assuring your undivided attention.

You glance to your friend, who isn’t there. Oh. You had been cornered without even the opportunity to explore the party.

More of a wallflower type, you found yourself struggling to conjure up a confident answer. You were acutely aware of who this gentleman is, and his egotistical demeanor was already a huge turn off.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know who I am,” he chuckled lightheartedly, yet there was a peculiar undertone hidden beneath. It was hard to place. He kisses your hand. “Lyney, the Great Magician.”

You withdrew your hand, unable to hide the way your eyebrows crinkled together with disinterest. Perhaps you should’ve been more prepared for these guests to be more brazen and unapologetic when they see something—or someone—they want.

Taking no for an answer is not even in the realm of possibility for these people.

The party continued on, gorgeous partygoers dancing and drinking to their heart’s content. All the while, Lyney kept his eyes trained on you. It wasn’t necessarily out of admiration; rather, it was curiosity. Why didn’t you bat your eyelashes at him like a good girl? Bite your lip when he kissed your hand?

He followed you like a ghost, slinking through the crowd tactfully to observe you. You were a rare creature indeed. None of the other women could hold a candle to you. Archons, he felt this unsettling churning in his stomach everyone your glimmering irises met his. His heart would tense instantaneously, threatening to explode within his chest.

You saw through Lyney from the moment he kissed your hand, and he hated it.

Through the night, you both danced this delicate tango around the massive mansion, a palpable tension tethering him to you. He was equally appalled and fascinated by you, never wasting any opportunity to slip in an innocent question or two to learn about you.

“A beautiful lady like you in a place like this… Do you feel lost in Wonderland yet, Alice?” Lyney had persuaded you to follow him to an unoccupied balcony, closing the French doors behind him.

He stalks toward you, his soft lavender irises cool and calculated. In an ashy flourish of embers, a deck of onyx cards materialized in his gloved hands. It had taken all evening, but just enough wine had passed beyond your lips to give Lyney the opportunity to disarm you.

“Not scared of a little fire, are you, love?” His voice was warm and inviting as a hearth, though it held a hint of mischief like that of a crackling inferno. Each mysterious card in his hand is shuffled with a distinct flick.

You were much more susceptible to his charm now more than ever, allowing him to weave glittering silk strands of harmless sweet nothings to entice you. Had you taken a step back, you would’ve seen the web for what it is. The grand reveal was imminent.

“Now, now, don’t fret. I won’t let anything harm you, chérie,” Lyney chuckles lightheartedly, as if he hadn’t been playing and pawing at you like a cat ready to pounce all night.

Your poor little breath hitched at every whisper and touch he gifted you. It started by fatefully picking the Queen of Hearts from his custom deck of cards. You should’ve known better. Maybe you should’ve picked the one next to it. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.

Lyney’s lilac eyes spark with intrigue at your choice. How fitting. Had you paid any attention to the magician’s sneaky maneuvers, you would have seen that every card in the deck was from the suite of Hearts.

The illusion of choice.

He takes this as an opportunity to step closer, his hands reaching forward. Your chest is beating wildly, begging for relief from how he intoxicates you with just a flutter of his long lashes.

Lyney rests his hands on the marble railing on either side of your hips, drinking in your anticipation, your fear, and your desire. A small, smug smirk pulls at the corner of his pretty lips. He takes the liberty of helping you meet his gaze by bringing his wrist to his mouth, white teeth tugging to remove his glove. Your body feels weightless when he lifts your chin with his bare index finger and thumb.

The Great Magician would argue that he took extreme precautions to ensure the success of this escapade. It was all carefully calculated and orchestrated according to his whim. He had you exactly where he wanted you, blissfully unaware of how deep these exhilarating feelings for you had rooted themselves into his guarded heart.

“Do you feel the magic in my fingertips? Hehe, tonight’s show will be a private event for only for you, mon trésor.”

The night was a blur. Fading in and out of consciousness, one moment you were dancing with him in empty halls and the next you were enveloped in his embrace against a wall. Lyney would pin your hands above your head before pushing you onto the bed, catapulting you into his next breathtaking trick like one of the acrobats in his show.

The silhouettes of your frames were shadowed in the moonlight that bathed the sheets in silver. Lyney skillfully unzipped your dress. Clothes fell to the wayside, vanishing in a flourish of passion. There was no denying it. He had to have you, and you were such a willing participant in his performance.

Of course, the wealthy partygoers were none the wiser, the echoes of pleasure the Great Magician was able to rip from your lungs were easily deafened by the music of their own opulent fantasies.

What is a magician if not an artist who must mark what is rightfully his—painting your womb with a decadent display, a growl escaping his throat.

However, Lyney is a perfectionist. When he catches a glimpse of his seed spilling out of you, he is quick to stuff his slender fingers into your overstimulated hole and seal the masterpiece with a final kiss on your bruised lips.

“Magnifique…” ❤️

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist.

[raviollies]

BOUND TOGETHER

Stained Glass depicts a family tree with the father's side being broken and Lorelai's portrait weeping, a depiction of Lorelai's past as she had accidently killed her father.

The Skull has fangs, the nature of vampirism being tied to undeath, the Black Roses surrounding reinforce the theme of decay, death and dishonour. The Blood dripping from behind it is the price she paid by spilling her father's blood for her vampirism.

Blythe is depicted Dancing - a call back to her nature as performing to make herself liked and play a character to hide her true self.

Pomegranates, an allusion to the Greek myth about how Hades tricked Persephone to be chained to the underworld using pomegranate seeds, Theta tricked Blythe to become a hexblood to chain her to herself

Butterflies and empty cocoons are found in the Daffodils, both are symbols of rebirth, new beginnings and metamorphosis, tying back to Blythe's journey from Elf to Hexblood, and the eventual possibility of being a hag.

The Tied Magpie in the Mirror is reflection of Blythe's true self, a bird being captive by Theta, Magpies are considered an omen of bad luck, believed to have a drop of devil's blood underneath their tongue

Broken Elven statue is Raha's ties to his cultural identity are broken and decayed. The Creeping Vines symbolize the lack of upkeep to preserve this past. The flowers surrounding it are the Spring Snowflakes, known to bloom at the end of winter/beginning of spring - a new beginning to life and hope.

The Empty nest is representative of him having lost his family, and leaving behind the Elven commune he stayed with afterwards. Having left, and no one in his family being alive, all that's left is an empty nest.

A Borzoi is running from the statue, symbolizing Raha running from his past and wishing to distance himself from what hurt him. Dogs are often tied to symbols of loyalty, love, and protection, all things that are true to Raha's character as an individual.

A Red Ribbon surrounds them, the red string usually symbolizes the old myth of the red string of fate, binding people together.

[ctrlhope]

— Rest, Relax, Reserve ⊹ Series M.List

⭔ : Welcome in! Here at the Humbolt Insect Hybrid Conservation Park, we implore all of our guests to experience the wonderful world of hybrids living in their natural habitats! Feel free to interact with any hybrids that may approach you— however, please keep in mind that this is a no-touch park, these are wild animals after all. Please stay safe, stick to the trails, and enjoy your stay!

Please note: we are not responsible for any risks associated with entering our parks. Keep this in mind when exploring.

Information Board

⭔ : warning! most stories on this list are yandere-themed, meaning they may have elements of dark content in them. all have mature content within them as well. please read all warnings before reading each one!

⭔ : a/n! this series has spawned from my entomology class this semester! so enjoy a lot of useless facts about arthropods while falling in love with hybrid bts <33

⭔ : status! ongoing -> last update: The Pitfalls of Silk

Kim Seokjin

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: blue morpho butterfly

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, lepidoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

Min Yoongi

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: yellow fattail scorpion

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, arachnida, scorpiones

-> information this species not found! check back later?

Jung Hoseok

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: warrior wasp

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, hymenoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

Kim Namjoon

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: honey bee

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, hymenoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

The Pitfalls of Silk ⊹ Park Jimin

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: cobalt blue tarantula

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, arachnida, aranea

-> The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same.

— bites: 01

Kim Taehyung

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: domestic silk moth

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, lepidoptera

-> coming soon . . .

Jeon Jungkook

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ species: black garden ant

⊹ ׁ ݂┊ ⭔ classification: arthropoda, insecta, hymenoptera

-> information this species not found! check back later?

⭔ : consider buying me a kofi <3

⭔ : disclaimer: all members of bts are face and name claims for all works on this blog. the pieces on this blog are entirely fictional and are in no way meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. any representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[thiscoldheart]

some details that i loved in la chimera (spoiler heavy) :

i posted this on twitter as well but i wanted to include it here too. i love this little moment here where italia rests her head on arthur's shoulder and for a brief moment, he's anchored to the present by that touch, but him being the orpheus that he is, just HAD to turn back and find himself gravitating towards the tombs, the past and his eurydice.

the fact that italia's name is literally italy in italian and by the end of the movie she creates a community of her own where she's looking out for those that are outcasted by society, in an abandoned train station named riparbella which literally means "to start again".

arthur's eye always being blocked by shadow throughout the movie until he sees the light at the very end

according to wiki, the goddess the statue is based on is cybele, goddess of nature, animals, wild places and represents the "creative and destructive force of nature." her phrygian name matar (mother) alludes to the fact that she was a "mediator between the boundaries of the known and unknown, the civilized and the wild, the worlds of the living and the dead." i love that this goddess' presence in the movie symbolizes arthur traversing between the living and the dead worlds and getting closer to beniamina. i love that by the end of the movie, the statue itself becomes unknown to human eyes and returns to the wild, far away from civilization, which is arguably the same fate that arthur meets as he dies.

the red string that's following arthur around is very reminiscent of the red string ariadne gives theseus to find his way through the maze. it's beautiful how this red string seems to appear only in his dreams at first but slowly starts crossing the boundaries of dreams and reality as the movie goes on until he is able to tug at it by the end and cross over into beniamina's world.

arthur, at the beginning of the movie, says "so it's you. my last woman's face." how cool is it that beniamina's face resembles cybele's?

arthur goes back to flora's house after being injured and her daughter finds him in the bathroom. spooked, she says "i thought it was a ghost" which arthur might as well be considering how he's essentially been a walking corpse this entire movie.

also a special shout out from the bottom of my heart to the sped up sequences, didn't even realize how badly i needed them until i saw them. the chaos in these sequences is everything to me. this is REAL cinema!

in general, one of the themes that i've come to love about this movie is how objects can have different meanings to everyone. an object like the bell arthur found was just "a thing that rings" whereas italia interprets it as a gift until she comes to realize it's been excavated from a grave. the statue was part of a shrine back when it was made, but to the tombaroli and the sellers, this is only a means to make more money. the train station started off as a place that symbolizes movement of people from the city to the countryside but has now become a home for the outcasts of society. the apotropaic phallus would've have warded off evil and bad luck back in the day, but is now used as a means of escape from the law. a simple red string is the literal lifeline for arthur as he tries to find his way back to his lover.

also want to give another shout out to the inclusion of the italian troubadours (our greek chorus) who beautifully spell out the tragedy of our protagonist and his gang.

speaking of music, i really liked this particular song italia was singing as she was practicing. the lyrics go "i'd like to explain to you, o god/ where my suffering lies/ but fate condemns me to weep/ to weep" and that's exactly when arthur finds her crying son. at least italia finds a way for her suffering to end by the end of the movie. maybe we can say the same about arthur too?

i'll probably add more as i keep rewatching the movie lol and make a thread of this on twitter too (x) thanks for sticking around and let me know what other cool details y'all noticed!

[lola-writes]

One-Eye & the Dreamer

(Aemond's POV)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x O.C Aylana Velaryon

Word Count: 2,2k

Themes & Warnings: slow burn, friends to enemies, enemies to lovers, violence, blood, targcest, sexual themes, tension, drama, angst, fix-it of sorts, eventual smut, sexual inexperience, forbidden love, high valyrian, dance of dragons, POV first person

Summary: Aylana Velaryon foresees Aemond Targaryen's fate and assigns herself to alter it.

Written from Aemond's POV.

More chapters

Gravity had nothing on us, my dear. 

You can’t untie red strings of fate. 

This is how it feels to fall in love with the atmosphere. 

The world surrendered to a symphony of wind.  Turbulence thundered in my ears and whipped my hair untamed as I ascended the skies. Rising higher and higher, the clouds enveloped me in a blinding haze, and the elements of the earth below decreased into a mosaic. I conquered the celestial at such speed that I felt like Aegon reborn. 

Vhagar was an extension of myself, her undulating muscles beneath my straddling body felt as if connected to my own, forcing our masses through the heavens with an effortlessness. I commanded her higher still, and she heeded my command. We defied gravity in a dance of grace and power.

As we approached the stratosphere where air ran thin, I straightened in my saddle, and my mighty Vhagar leveled out, conforming to every delicate change in my movements. The world below became an inverted dreamscape as we sailed the vague interstice that marked the transition between sky and oblivion - the clouds beneath were the unconquered sky, and the indigo above was the ocean, and I was flying upside down. 

Together, Vhagar and I, were limitless.

The memory of when I first claimed her was so potent it eclipsed everything else, real or imagined. It was like walking penniless and finding a mountain of gold at your feet. What was one to do with such power? A power so raw and exhilarating, it consumed. Suddenly, I had no fear. Suddenly, I was not alone…

I leaned into Vhagar’s warmth and she folded her wings against me. We plummeted back down towards the earth, a thrilling drop that sent a jolt of pure ecstasy through my veins. My stomach lurched, and beneath me, Vhagar’s thorax vibrated – a deep, primal roar that resonated through my very bones. In that moment, I mirrored her, a guttural exclaim of pure, unadultered joy escaping my lips.

Never had freedom tasted so sweet.

The force of our descent sliced through the nebulous clouds like a knife through cotton, and as we emerged, the Narrow Sea gaped wide, glittering beneath the noontide sun like a crystal embellished blue silk. I leveled out again and watched Vhagar’s twin loom out of the water. 

In the distance, the seven huge drum-towers, proud sentinels of pale red stone, rose out of the sea on their stony summits, and the tolling bells welcomed me back home. An unfamiliar fleet of ships coasted down Black Water Rush like wooden beads along a blue mesh - an unremarkable observation, as nobles from every corner of the realm had been descending upon King’s Landing for the wedding. They had all come through the gates by horse and carriage, none by sea. 

Traders perhaps? Coming just in time to fortify our stores for the upcoming plunder. 

So many fucking mouths to feed. I had seen them endlessly pour through the castle gates in a river of gold, silver, and polished steel – their banners displaying the sigil of house Lannister, Baratheon, Tully, and I could’ve sworn I saw a direwolf banner among them. Would the Starks truly find a Targaryen wedding of such importance that they would bother dragging themselves out of their frozen pits? It was to be a grand affair, to be sure. A celebration with tourneys, hunts, feasts, and dancing, to last for at least a fortnight.

If I had it my way, I would escape and race the wind on Vhagar. But mother’s orders were a bittersweet curse. We were to be on our best behavior, a euphemism for me babysitting my nuisance of a brother, to ensure he does not imbibe every wine cask in the keep, and to hearten my sweet sister who always grew gauche in social gatherings. 

One could hardly fathom I was the youngest.

But the chief of my worries was Aegon. He already had an inclination of getting unreasonable drunk on a plain day. I shuddered to think of the lengths he might go to in tribute to his own nuptials.

Unease filled my gut.

But it wasn’t the vigil of my siblings that rendered me apprehensive.

As I drew close enough that I could make out the banners, I realized that these were no ordinary trading ships. In fact, these weren’t traders at all. I tugged at the reins and Vhagar gathered air beneath her leather and sprung up high, casting her mighty shadow atop the vessels. 

Memories consumed me like a bad aftertaste. The sigil-emblazoned sails draped across the masts below needed no introduction. The seahorse and the three-headed black dragon caught the wind. 

It could only mean one thing…

The thought got knocked right out of me as a bone-jarring impact to Vhagar’s thorax threw me off my saddle. Her earsplitting roar resounded across the blackwater, as I tumbled down her back. Instinctively, I snagged my wrist through a loop in her saddle ropes, dangling precariously until she steadied herself. I hauled myself back up, heart hammering in my chest, adrenaline pouring into my bloodstream. I scouted the skies for an attacker in a glassy bewilderment, growing acrimoniously aware of my disability. But the firmament was still and empty. 

What in the Seven Hells?

Another blow. It knocked me aslant, and I felt fury consuming me like poison. Gritting my teeth, I gripped the saddle horn and twisted the reins twice ‘round my forearm, and perceived every muscle of Vhagar’s back contracting beneath me, waiting to charge. 

Who would dare challenge me?

A flicker of movement caught my eye. A shape, shrouded beneath Vhagar’s wing membranes, was soaring alongside us. And when I turned to look, my eye met a stranger, masked and cloaked, stalking us on a dragon as black and swift as a raven. But the beast was miniscule in relation, just the age to breathe fire, and yet had nearly forced me to meet the gods. 

Humiliation morphed into a blinding rage that seethed through my veins and marred my vision with a red mist. “Ossēnagon, Vhagar!” Kill. I growled, and steered her toward the trespasser. But the figure crouched down in their saddle, and their dragon dove towards the city. 

Fucking craven.

We went after them. Their descent was swift and inaudible, while mine was slow and thunderous like a moving mountain. The pale orange rooftops of King’s Landing, bleached from the summer’s scorching sun, spread out like a vast rust beneath our darkening shadows. I pursued them to the Hill of Rhaenys, where we landed opposite each other outside the crypts of the dragonpit. 

Dismounting, I started towards them, each step a measured threat. The steel of my dagger sang its lethal warning as I drew it from my scabbard. But the stranger stood their ground, defiance flickering in their shadowed form. My anger, already a simmering cauldron, boiled over. I closed the distance between up, a growl ripping from my throat, raw and primal.

“You!” The word barely a breath before my blade bit their throat. A desperate struggle ensued, but my palm collared the nape of their neck, locking them to the steel. A Kingsguard’s alarming exclaims sounded in the distance, but the words faded underwater. 

“The Stranger requests an audience.” The contiguity drowned my voice into a whisper. I took pleasure in that I towered over them, and felt their hot, humid breath against me, hitching beneath the sharp edge.

“My prince!” Ser Harrold Westerling, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, came running towards us. His voice, booming like thunder, always sufficed in snapping the whole court to attention. But it wasn’t his timber which stirred me this time. “Let her go!” 

His words carried me out of my raging inferno.

Her?

I blinked through my apprehension and scavenged the stranger’s frame with my eye, as if I’d awoken from a dream and seen them for the first time. A tug, a rustle, and their hood fell back and settled around their shoulders. 

A wave of ice ran down my spine. 

It was like seeing a ghost. The protagonist of all my nightmares coming alive, ready to haunt me. 

Aylana Velaryon.

Her eyes, the color of sunlit amber flicked with gold, held mine with an unsettling intensity. She seemed to see right through me, demanding answers I could not provide. Then, a knowing smile played on her lips.

“Skoros iksos pirta, kepus?” What’s wrong, uncle? A sardonic edge laced her voice. “Gaomagon ao daor gīmigon issa?” Do you not remember me?

The words hit me like a physical blow. I swallowed, stunned by her High Valyrian.

For a moment, I believe I stood petrified, unable to tear my gaze from her, unable to utter a word.

A torrent of questions, accusations, apologies – years of unspoken turmoil – churned within me. But now, with her life literally in my hands, the words deserted me. My tongue, usually an agile weapon, felt like lead. This was the person who had haunted my every waking and sleeping thought for years, and all I could manage was a stunned silence. Perhaps my countenance spoke volumes where my voice failed.

She echoed the girl I remembered, but time had woven its changes. I had to take it all in. Her voice, saccharine and laced with a hint of mockery, was a stark contrast to the playful child I held in memory. Her once youthful features had sharpened, cheekbones higher, lips fuller. Then, my gaze, fell upon the one jarring element – a crimson scar that snaked across her left eyebrow, expressing a raw pink sheen beneath a shell of transparent skin. Years had passed, yet the wound looked fresh.

The accident.

My jaw tightened as venom seethed through my veins.

I could still see her crumpled, lifeless form in the dirt, her skull cracked open, every time I closed my eye.

And I was holding the bloody rock.

Shame coiled in my gut like a suffocating weight. I could not bear to look at her.

“Some things never change,” she said facetiously. “Don’t you agree, uncle?”

Shit.

I was still holding my knife to her throat. I recoiled with such force that the effort pushed her back as well. A bright seam of red welled up at the lip where my blade had kissed her and painted the length of her neck like dark fruit. 

I reviled myself. I had tried to kill her. Again. 

But she just smiled, a dimple flashing in her cheek. As if we were still kids and she had made a humorous jest.

I realized I had been holding my breath when a gasp escaped my lips and air rushed back into my lungs. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy.

“Aylana.” I spoke her name derisively without intending to, as I sheathed the knife at my waist where my gaze lingered a moment, dreading to meet hers. 

My stomach turned. I never used to call her that. It sounded so formal and distant on my tongue, just like ‘uncle’ on hers. But that’s what we were to each other now - our friendship no more than a distant memory. I no longer assumed myself worthy of her alias. I had lost that privilege. Just as I had lost my friend. 

The weight of the past pressed down on me, suffocating.

Agitation infiltrated my mind and my whole disposition must have come off as reticent and hostile. I watched her pull her gloves off finger by finger and release the clasp of her cloak. There was an attitude in her movements and a poise in her posture. Beneath she was dressed in sable flying leathers that clung tightly to her body. 

I averted my gaze. 

Frustration clawed at my chest, and whatever other feeling it was that made my mouth dry and my palms clammy. 

“You look well, nuncle,” she said. 

My eye met hers and I noted them briefly flicker across my eyepatch. Her scrutiny made the leather singe my skin with awareness. Growing diffident, I looked away. 

“Hmmph,” I said, my favorite expression of disdain. 

I knew what she was implying. That if I had only listened to her that night, instead of acting like an arrogant scoundrel, I wouldn’t be looking like a eunuch with one eye at present.

And she was right in mocking me. If her insults were the currency for my betrayal, I would gladly become a spendthrift.

My breathing shallowed as I gazed at the damage I’d caused. I had to get out of there. 

“I hope we did not frighten you earlier,” she said, interrupting my escape. “I only thought I might test the mettle of the largest dragon in the world. She truly is remarkable. A fair exchange, to be sure.” 

I turned to look at her, and I didn’t know what I must’ve looked like, because the playful smile that had been dancing between her lips our entire encounter, vanished. There it is, I thought. The realization. The Aemond you knew is gone. This is the monster you forged.

“Ser Harrold,” I said. “Escort the princess to the Red Keep. And make sure she does not test the mettle of anyone else in the city.”

“Certainly, my prince,” said Ser Harrold, the Lord Commander who was the very first person to see my face after the loss of my eye. This fact made him remarkably significant somehow.

I mounted Vhagar and took to the sky, watching Aylana and Nymax blur into mere specks on a canvas. 

This would be a celebration I was sure to remember…

More chapters

[ariesluvz]

PAC: How would a tarot reader describe you to your future spouse and their thoughts

collab w @daninixx

1 2

3 4

. . .

♡ Group 1 ♡

By @ariesluvz

# How would a reader describe you to them?

This person might like hip hop (😂). This person might actually have alot of worries and they might stay up all night thinking about their worries. Their work might take up all their energy and focus. This person is like a chameleon, despite of their condition they are able to work with people and match their energy very well. They are giving me strong business person aura. They have a huge sense of responsibilities. They might had to take care of their own responsibilities as well as others at a very young age that made them very strict towards themselves. Your person also has an artist side to them which they express very well. They might like art by itself. But they are more attracted to different color variations. Yes your person love to portray their mood through different colors. They might do that by playing with their fashion, dying their hair often. They might have colored their hair in a bizarre color. I see neon/pastel pink, mint etc. They might wear beige suits with their crazy hair. Might have beautiful tattoos or piercings. They are very chic and elegant and has a great sense of fashion. Their art might be their fashion. I think your person has a purple aura or surrounds themselves with purple colours. Especially purple neon light. I really think that this person likes bright, saturated and neon colors. Not like they don't like pastels. Y'all know those people who look dangerous by their looks but actually are the most warm hearted people you'll ever meet, your person is like the same. They might love to party. This doesn't mean that they are playboy/girl, spoiled. I think they stay alot of time or spend nights partying outside cuz they are very lonely. They also need warmth and people around them who radiate good energy. If not partying exactly then, they like to keep themselves busy and surrounded by many people. I think they might be very lonely for a long time but still are trying to get use to it. I find a little child in them. Possibly unhealed childhood trauma/inner child. They might be very fond of their friends trying to find warm in them. This may sometimes lead them towards wrong people and heart breaks. This person is like a fragile flower. They tend to fall for people who show just a little bit kindness towards them, maybe cuz they never had that. They never forget even the tiniest kind gesture ever done towards them. They rely on their good memories. They easily forget about the bad things they go through. Awwww group 1, I really love this person as if I wanna protect them and say words of love and appreciation to them. They are very afraid of doing any kind of mistakes. I think thing them doing mistakes is like doing any sin. They put themselves on a pedestal group 1. But nonetheless your person is a very strong and kind soul. They are not afraid to be bold but also vulnerable when needed. I really appreciate and like them.

# Their thoughts?

They will of you as their king/queen. They will be mesmerised by your amazing and so unique personality. They would want to tell you that you are so strong and that you are not alone cuz you got them. They would think of you as a very strong person. Also very fancy, they will think that you have a chic and rich personality. They might feel inferior to you honestly. They will be motivated to do well to match your level. They will kinda fall in love with you at that moment itself lol. They would be at peace knowing about you but also would be very eager to meet you. Their heart would be beating fast af. They will literally on the spot decide to give you alot of love. Does anyone trust 'red string of fate' theme? They honestly kinda do. For them it's like you are their destined fate. They would not really be in the mindset of actually believing it but will end up fantasising about you and your existence. It will all fascinate them alot. Predicting future might be very normal or like popular where they live but they will not be someone who was ever interested or believed. I am also thinking that their friends will be the one who will take them to the reader as an activity. So everything described about you will change their thoughts on/about you. They will be happy to get to know you.

. . .

♡ Group 2 ♡

By @daninixx

# How would a reader describe you to your fs?

This is someone who is flirt and knows how to have fun, your person isn't overly dependent, someone who is passionate about their goals and dreams in order to take achieve them, and will be comfortable about you because they know you are not boring, not too demanding, funny and put a smile on their face even on the worst of days. Someone who is determine to achieve their goals to have a better future for themselves, so maybe they're still studying (student). They can also be an attention seeker, someone who always imagine or day dreaming to be admired by others like i'm getting here that's this person wanted to be singer sort of, someone who talks shit behind their friends(if they have) or someone who likes to make-up stories so they will be admired by others. Someone who likes texts, phone calls and emails — i see that they might like to use discord or snapchat. Your person might have this motto " Do things you've never done before", someone who is making impossible become possible, this person likes adventure or travelling, they might plan or like this idea for their future purposes. Someone who interest of being an extrovert , someone who is elegant, rational, and intelligent. Your person is someone who are attracted to the charm of the enchanting mind. Your person is someone who is calm and has a serious personality, alongside with a unique perception and knowledge of the world, is accentuated by a powerful voice. Someone who will be professional in the field they have or they will going to take, your person will be well educated, so this will finish their bachelor, masteral or degress. Someone who have a good reputation on school or work, but if not this person can be cold and aloof. So yk this person will just be a normal type of student along with no bad records in school, if they're student or when they're still student before. Lol, someone being polite in public, but can be rude to people they know. There's is truly burdened in this person life that doesn't necessary needed, someone who doesn't what to look of what's going on around them, so this person will think that the time for them is running out very fast and quickly. It's like they think this person think they can't keep up with this, even though they really do. No way, you will be happy because this person is on their own phase of growth and healing seems like they're dealing from anxiety or fears from a very long time, this person will gonna start believing about what they can do, about themselves and will trying to move forward for the betterment. So whatever negativity is forcing them to don't do these things they really love since they're afraid of change before, this person will gonna change it and been starting facing them, negative energies will slowly fading away on their side and this person will discover the positive side of things. This person might be water signs on their moon to their chart a high tendency that it will be a pisces moon. Your person qualities, you will find them very attractive since at a very first place or beginning. But honestly, you won't be attracted to this person physical appearance, you will find this person interest of beliefs are way more into unique that somehow can influence you, someone who meets the eye with them also might be somewhat has mysterious aura. This person can also have a psychic powers or just have a hidden talents, this person likes to making plans that will be good for you rather than what suits to people, they will know the answer and the right thing to do with it. I see, you will see this person as lucky charm that will bring positive change in your life. Also, if you will be friend with this person i can't deny that in your relationship there's a lot of ups and downs.

# Their thoughts?

So, this person will think that can they already find the right one that makes them feel calm, someone who will not judge them as a person and can be someone to cry on or lend on to. That they're already reach the peace since they're feel a very strong connection with you, they love your qualities even the negative ones. They will be like "two people can blend together in harmonious way" or someone that have a long lasting love. They love how you view life and they will think that it's quite interesting since they never encounter such someone like you, your person will be having a good feelings for you perhaps that this person doesn't like drama or big displays of connection, but they will think you are out of their league seems they doubts about themselves. They will also feel very inesecure about themselves, they will have this deep and hidden insecurity. Someone who wishes to take care of you after hearing those messages that you'd been through a very tough phase, they wanted to be a provider for you, that kind of someone will look after you. They wanted to see you and love you immediately but they are still not yet ready to face you because of their strong insecurities, they will trying to heal and face these fears before connecting with you.

. . .

♡ Group 3 ♡

# How would a reader describe you to them?

Very charming. They are very classy. Tsundere kind of personality. They were born in a strict household which made their life very much planned or schedule oriented. They might also have OCD. They get anxious and frustrated if something messes up their schedule or work. Pretentious is also something that I'm getting. Not sure if they enjoy their life. They are very much careful about how they portray themselves and their social image. People might not describe them as the most warm hearted person. They might know that and try to maintain a personality that scares away(?) people. They don't show the emotions of love. They show more frustration or determination. They prioritise their job first. They are very much driven by logic. They are not the type of person to get "fixed" I'm sorry if that's like something you are imagining. There's nothing you can do to fix a person. You are just an addiction to their life but don't expect their life to completely shift of change once you meet them. But nonetheless they are very charming. They leave a strong impression on everyone they meet. You will be charmed by them as well. They have an enchanting presence. They definitely have fire dominating their charts. Their aura might be red or lucky color or something. For a woman I see red lipstick might be their favourite. For a man I don't see a colour but their facial structure is very strong or like prominent. High cheekbones, sharp jawline, prominent nose for some it's straight and for some it's a Romanian nose I think. They have an advantage in their looks/appearance which they manage very well. They remind be of those very masculine guys in Taylor Swift's songs. If woman, then probably taller bone structure lean and slim. They have ectomorph body structure. They are success oriented. I think they take everything as a deal which should be profitable for them in some way. They crave stability. They give very stereotypical Capricorn vibes. If they have a childhood trauma that might be around their home life. They might have felt very different and has now embraced the theme very well that they feel unsafe or vulnerable or weak to not be different from others. They see that being different is a powerful thing. They want people to respect them and to have a certain position in the society. These things are their moral values. You can call them selfish and I won't correct you on that. Everyone is selfish but they are very openly selfish. They are living their best life to be honest. They are very hardworking in whichever field they are in and probably one of the best in their field. And they live their life very unapologetically. They respect their parents alot. They are sensitive about their family and personal life which they prefer to keep very hidden or secret because that is only one thing they are emotionally attached to. They try their best to keep their family safe.

# Their thoughts?

Ok so you might be very different from them. Like your vibe, aura or aesthetic might be different from them. You just have a different pov on life in general and take things differently than them. They are mesmerized by this trait of yours. If makes you mysterious to them even if you don't think you are the mysterious type of person. They kinda feel very calm and happy and delighted whenever they see you or think about you. Because you are different from the environment they usually are in l, they take a lot of interest in knowing you and love the time you spend together. They take a lot of pride in you for some reason. Like when they will know about you through a 3rd party they will be like "yeah that's my girl/man". You are very beautiful in their eyes and maybe that's why they are so proud of the fact that you are their person. I get yin and yang energy. I feel like that's exactly what they are searching for as well. They want their partner to be like their other half, a part of them. This kind of thought makes them happy and satisfied. I already told you that they give me 90s vibes. So they are also very traditional and they do follow certain believes and think that some things are better in traditional way. Ok I see a red lehenga, it's an Indian attire that brides usually wear for their wedding so yeah they definitely picture you guys' wedding together lol.

. . .

♡ Group 4 ♡

By @daninixx

# How would a reader describe you to them?

Pile 4, this is a secret i accidentally pulled one more card for you so maybe my guides wanted you to have more messages. So to start this person is someone who can be a bully or the trouble is always on their side even though they don't do nothing wrong. Someone who will see your dark side and will try to get ride of it away from you, someone that is type of person "winning at all cost!", someone who have an internal conflict and inner anger but this person will fear to openly or express them of how they feel definitely this person has anxiety or depression. This person is someone who is doesn't have a filter and say what they wanted to say in his or her mind. If this person wanted to settle in a relationship they want it to be passionate, somehow this person is not yet ready for any commitments as of now seems like this person is just like the idea of being in love but don't want to be in a relationship as of now because their fantasies to "happily ever after" and healthy and fullfilling relationship, they afraid that they might end up to a wrong person and toxic one. This person is bubbly, upbeat and wholesome, woah another card confirm that this person is really "dreamy" and "airy-fairy" might be a little kook too. This person might dress like a tomboy, may have a high levels of stress. Someone who is very faithful so they tend to be trustworthy and family-oriented, the communication with will be easy for each other. The relationship with them will be friends to lovers, someone who is physically attractive and always taking care of how they look or presenting themselves. This person is probably still studying and still the progress of towards their goals, someone who is practical and following rules. Someone you can consider as charming, gentle, and sensitive, as well as fearsome and powerful. In short, this person is ✨awesome✨. They might appear to have a solid strategy and know where they going; however, this person may appear arrogant and opinionated at times. This person might be afraid to show their real thoughts however they're fearless when it comes achieving success and victory, someone who will use their will power to achieve their goals, they might own a vehicle most likey a car or a motorbike. Someone who will looking or finding their own interest and what they really wanted to be in life. They need to get out in their comfort zone since i see here they really love home or to stay at home ; if they do nothing, nothing will be moving too or everything will out of their control because success is already waiting for them they just need to claim it, and if would failed to do that they will be dissapointed for the chances. This is someone who is kind and understanding, this person is talented and creative but somehow there is something stopping them to show them off, they're overthinker. Someone they love might loss to them, it's female figure can also be grandparents or this also indicates of end of their struggles will going to come. You might meet this person through social media, i'm not really sure if this person has a family member that working to government or an authority figure seems like this person is just died recently.

# Their thoughts?

So they will feel confident about you, they will be more fallen in love with you right now, you will be someone whom capable to enjoys their company. They will also think that this connection needs more understanding before jumping or trusting their guts, so they ask you to wait and give them some space to think for it, they might feel emotionally disconnected with it and needs time to resolve it. They want you to be communicating with them with honesty and integrity, this person think you are allowing your emotions to take control of your life. Also, they feel sadness and loneliness for what you've been through, they think it's right for you to get out your comfort zone and start enjoying and doing a better lifestyle, You might be focusing on your innermost feelings, therefore they want you to withdrawing from the real world, that you need accept the situation and work on your well-being. They're someone that enjoy their flow of your emotions, and this type of person will bring balance and harmony in your life because they feel the same wavelength before. In addition, someone who they think needs acceptance of the situation, they wants to motivate you, they know this is hard for you but you need it. It is time to speak up and move about what is needed or desired before getting everything is too late. Your person think you are like a precious thing to take care of, a breakable glass. Totally they wanted to meet you and love you unconditionally but they know you need more growth and healings, so they telling you take your time to take care of yourself since you are unbeatable and unstoppable, they also like the that you are family oriented type of person that can take care of them and your future kids. They also imagine to making you a morning breakfast in bed and see your morning face like even your feeling ugly they want you to don't feel ugly to yourself 'cause you'd beauty , honestly you feel confident with this person.

[thornybubbles]

Blood Red String of Fate (Yandere Risotto x Reader)

Scenario: The reader discovers that they are Risotto’s soulmate. Risotto is thrilled. The reader is not. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, canon typical violence, kidnapping, attempted self harm, forced relationship, and other “fun” stuff. 

You thought that it was just a story; an urban legend spread between lovesick teens and desperate young adults. You never believed for a moment that the whole “red string of fate” thing was true. Soulmates didn’t exist. Relationships didn’t come into being from a whim of chance. You didn’t believe in destiny or naive notions of love at first sight. But all of that changed the day you woke up and found the seemingly endless crimson colored string tied to your pointer finger. It wasn’t endless, of course. You knew that it was attached to the finger of your soulmate (something that you believed to be a fairy tale only a day before). It horrified you, not because you had an aversion to love or the idea of it. It was just that you believed that love should be something that is a mutual choice between two people. It should never be something that was forced onto people by fate. But that wasn’t what had you feeling like your stomach was doing cartwheels. You could actually sense the person on the other end of the string. You could feel their thoughts, emotions, and their very presence as if they were in the room with you. What you felt from them appalled you. You could feel their love for you and it almost had you returning the sentiment, but the warm feeling it gave you was overshadowed by the strong possessiveness that you felt, too. This person, whoever they were, genuinely thought that the string being attached to you meant that they owned you. Not only that, but you could feel an overwhelming blood lust and violence coming from them. Whoever your soulmate was, they were dangerous and the thought of being with them did not appeal to you. As far as you were concerned the two of you were not compatible, soulmate or not. You didn’t give a damn what fate or destiny had to say about it. 

-----------

Risotto stared at the red string tied to his finger. He didn’t know how to feel about it at first, but once he sensed you on the other end of the string, it stirred in him an uncontrollable obsession. He never asked to be attached to you, but now that he was, he wanted you. He couldn’t imagine life without you. It wasn’t enough to be bound to you, though. No. He needed you by his side. He had to find a way to bring you to him. It was strange, Risotto never imagined himself to bother with a significant other. He always felt that it would be too dangerous and an inconvenience to him as a member of Passione. Suddenly finding out that he had a soulmate was a bit bizarre. It didn’t matter. Now that he was connected to you, he could feel what kind of person you were. You were everything he needed, everything he desired. He found himself craving you the way a starving man craved food. He truly felt that if he didn’t bring you to him soon, then he would die. He had to have you here. NOW!

“Boss? Whatcha starin’ at your hand for? Didja get hurt?” 

The voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see Formaggio looking at him with concern. 

The others couldn’t see the string. No one knew of the bond that he shared with you. It gave him an odd sense of comfort and made him feel even more connected with you. You were meant for each other. No one else could interfere. No one could break the bond that he had with you. The obsession that he felt for you grew even greater knowing that. 

“I’m fine.” Risotto answered his subordinate. He glanced at the string, following it with his eyes as it ran along the ground and out of the room. He could follow it and it would lead him right to you. He could find you easily. He could…

Risotto shot up from his chair and yanked his hand into the air, effectively pulling at the string. He could feel you just then. You were about to do something awful, but he managed to put a stop to it. He glared down at the string as if he was glaring at you. Why would you ever attempt something like that?!

“Boss?” Formaggio asked, giving his Capo a concerned look. “What was that about?” 

Risotto didn’t acknowledge him right away. He gave the string another pull. He wasn’t completely sure how the string worked or what he could do with it, but he quickly figured out he could send his very will through it somehow. He did that just then, to stop your foolishness. It was clear that he couldn’t put off meeting you any longer. 

“Get in contact with the others. Tell them that I’m going to pay someone a visit.” he said suddenly. 

“Huh? What?!” Formaggio cried in confusion. 

He watched as Risotto passed him by and left the room. Formaggio clambered up from the sofa and trailed after him. 

“Wait a minute!” he called. “You’re leaving now? Who’re you gonna visit? Is this a mission? Ain’tcha gonna tell me anything?” 

“This is a personal matter.” Risotto said, his tone implying that Formaggio should stop asking questions. “I won’t be gone long, but I have to leave immediately. Continue with business as normal until I get back.” 

“Wait!” Formaggio said, trying once more to reason with his Capo. “Shouldn’t you tell the others this yourself? Why do you have to run off in such a hurry?” 

Risotto turned his red gaze on his subordinate. 

“I trust you to let them know that I’m gone. Just tell them that I had an emergency that I needed to tend to. I’ll explain when I get back. I have to go now, Formaggio.” he said. 

And with that Risotto left the building. Formaggio stood staring at the door wondering what was going through his Capo’s mind. Risotto was a mysterious guy, but he was acting very strangely all of a sudden. He thought about it for a moment longer before throwing his hands up and turning away from the door. 

“Eh. Can’t be helped. Orders are orders. Guess I’ll let the others know.” 

---------------

You’d tried everything. You tried cutting the string with scissors, a knife, or any other sharp thing you could find. You even tried biting through it. Nothing would cut the string. There was only one alternative that you could think of for ridding yourself of the unwanted bond with your equally unwanted soulmate. If you couldn’t sever the string, then you would simply sever the finger that it was tied to. God, you didn’t want to do it, but what choice did you have? 

Every moment you spent bonded to your soulmate, you could feel more and more of what kind of person they were. They were a killer. They’d killed a lot of people and you could tell that they would kill a lot more. It would be just your rotten luck to be stuck with a murderer as a soulmate. You knew that they could sense you and you hated it. You didn’t want a killer knowing as much about you as you did about them. You wanted them gone from your life. So you would disconnect from them. With luck, once the deed was done, they would just think that you died or something and wouldn’t seek you out. 

You set some medical supplies to the side, to be ready to deal with your self inflicted injury. The plan was simple enough. You would cut off your finger, ridding yourself of the bond, then you would quickly patch up your injured hand, wrap and place your severed finger in a container full of ice you had set alongside the medical supplies, then call 911 and have them take you to the hospital where you could hopefully have your finger reattached. You had no idea how you would explain what happened to you. If you told them you cut off your finger to disconnect the bond with your soulmate, they’d have you committed. So you would have to think of something more normal to tell them. An accident cutting food maybe? 

Hesitantly, you paced your finger on the edge of the kitchen counter. You held the knife in your other hand. Suddenly a thought occurred to you. What if you didn’t cut it off in one chop? What if your strength wasn’t enough to cut through the bone? What if the knife wasn’t sharp enough?  What would you do then? You glanced at the knife. It seemed very sharp. Still, it would require some level of strength to cut through the bone. Oh God! What if you had to saw through the bone with another tool? The thought of the prolonged agony made you feel queasy. You could feel the color draining from your face and you swayed on your feet slightly. You shook your head. Determinazione! That’s what you needed now. You had to suck it up and deal with the pain. This was the only way you knew to deal with this. 

You raised the knife high over your finger. You took a few deep breaths and mentally hyped yourself to do what needed to be done. 

Don’t think about the pain. Don’t think about the blood. Think about being stuck bonded to a murderer. You thought to yourself. 

You let out a cry of resolution and raised the knife even higher. 

Suddenly there was a powerful yank on the string that pulled your hand away just as the knife came down on the counter. The blade sank into the countertop, leaving a notch in the Formica. Yeah, that blow definitely would have cut through the bone. Too bad something stopped you. You grabbed the knife by the handle and tried to pull it from the countertop. You managed to pull it free but the string was tugged again with much more force this time. The action caused you to lose your hold on the knife. It fell into the sink as you were yanked nearly to the ground. You fell to one knee in an attempt to regain your balance. You yanked your arm backwards only to find that it wouldn’t budge. The string was somehow pulled taut and you were practically being dragged across the floor. 

“STOP PULLING ON ME, ASSHOLE!!!” you shouted, anger in your voice disguising your terror. 

The pulling stopped and the string went slack again. They stopped you! Whoever was on the other end of the string knew that you planned to chop off your own finger to sever the bond with them. They didn’t want you to disconnect from them! Why? Did they really put value in the bond? Didn’t they know that you had no interest in them? Why would they bother? It was madness! 

Suddenly you could feel a strange sensation through the string. It was as if your soulmate’s presence felt stronger somehow. You couldn’t understand it, until you realized… they were getting closer to you! They were coming for you! Well you wouldn’t be there when they arrived. You jumped up from the kitchen floor and ran to your room. Quickly, you packed a few clothes and other essentials. You didn’t know where you would go, but you weren’t going to fall into their grasp no matter what!

---

Risotto stared down at the string on his finger as he sat in the back of a cab. He allowed himself a small, bitter smile. You were a fool. Did you really think that you could escape him? Apparently so, because he could sense you moving away from him. It was frustrating, but it didn’t matter. He would find a way to get to you before you got too far away. The problem was that you could sense how far away he was from you at all times. Did you really mean to stay on the run from him for as long as he tried to pursue you? What if there was a way that he could hide himself from you? An idea came to him. He asked the cab driver to drop him off at the next block. The driver did as told and drove away. Risotto looked around. He was standing outside of a vacant lot. It seemed that this was an abandoned part of the city. Good. He could experiment here with no one around to intrude. It was a long shot, but if he used Metallica’s ability to camouflage himself, he might be able to disguise his presence at his end of the string. Risotto activated his Stand’s secondary ability and waited. He could feel you on your end of the string. You stopped pulling away from him. He began to follow the string, half expecting you to start pulling away from him again. You never did. You were staying put. He followed the string until he was in a better part of town. Still, you didn’t move. It worked! As long as he stayed invisible, you couldn’t sense him! You were as good as his!

----

You had just driven into an unfamiliar part of town when you felt the presence at the other end of the string disappear. What happened? Did they die? Did they disconnect the bond? No, you could still see the string wrapped around your finger. Maybe they just stopped following you? You sighed. Thank the Lord. In the distance you spotted a sign for a hotel. You would stay there for the night and think about what you were going to do in the morning. You pulled into the hotel and walked into the office, dragging your bag along with you. You got yourself a room and collapsed on the bed there. You’d been running from your soul mate for days now. Why did they just stop following you? Did they give up? Did they realize that you weren’t interested in them? What was their game? You had only planned to stay at the hotel for the night, but decided to stay there until you felt that it was safe enough to return home. That was only if your soulmate didn’t decide to start following you again. 

That night, you dreamed of a man in a strange black costume resembling that of a jester, with white hair and red eyes with black scleras. You seemed to know each other, but you couldn’t remember from where. You were afraid of him, but you weren’t sure why. 

----

Risotto strolled into the parking lot of the hotel you were staying in. He was overwhelmed with joy at having tracked you down, but he would have to be careful from here on out. If you got so much as an inkling that he was nearby, you would start running again. He couldn’t allow that. Not when he was so close. He’d been walking for ages, sleeping in hotel rooms that he broke into and stealing food. If anyone got too nosey about his invisible activities, they met a swift and horrible end. He was exhausted having to travel on foot (an invisible man couldn’t flag down a taxi after all), but it was all worth it now that he finally tracked you down. 

He followed the string until it led under the door of a certain room. Your room. He grinned at the feeling of your presence on the other side of the door. You were sleeping, so he would have to be quiet. Using Metallica’s magnetism, Risotto unscrewed the screws around the doorknob to your room. He was thankful that the hotel was an older one that hadn’t yet converted to the use of keycards. The door knobs popped out of their sockets and clattered to the ground. Risotto froze, afraid the sound would wake you. He was relieved that he could still feel that you were asleep. Carefully, he opened the door and let himself in. 

He spied your sleeping form on the bed. He smiled fondly at you before coming out of his camouflaged state. There was no point in hiding from you anymore. Abruptly, you sat up in bed, gasping and sobbing. 

----

What a horrible dream. You’ve been having nightmares about the strange man with the scary eyes ever since you started staying at the hotel. The dream was always the same, the man would corner you somewhere, tell you that you knew each other, then try to drag you off somewhere you didn’t want to go. If you weren’t sure before, you were certain now, that man in your dreams was your soulmate. He had the same aura you felt at the other end of the string. The same aura of blood and death that you felt so strongly that it caused you to wake up in a panic… The same aura that you could still feel as if it were in the room with you at that very moment. 

You turned to face that overwhelming presence you could sense nearby and your blood ran cold. 

“You!” you gasped. “It’s you!” 

The man took a step towards you, smiling sweetly. You cringed away from him, pulling the bed covers up as if they could shield you from him. 

“How did you find me without me sensing you?” you demanded. 

“Not important,” he said in a deep voice that would have had your heart fluttering in any other situation. “What matters now is that we are finally together, as fate intended.” 

“To hell with fate and to hell with you! I want nothing to do with you! Now get out of my room before I call the police!” 

The man laughed at your poor attempt at bravado. 

“You can fight it all you want, but you and I will be together no matter what.” 

You jumped up from the bed and made an attempt to run out the door, but he stepped into your path and you ended up in his crushing embrace. 

“Let go of m-- mph!” your demands were silenced by one of his massive palms covering your mouth. 

You struggled in his hold but he was far stronger than you. You could barely move in his grip. Something sharp pierced your neck and you screamed into his hand. You struggled a moment more before dizziness overwhelmed you. Your limbs felt heavy and it became impossible to move them. Your vision grew blurry and you felt yourself going limp in his arms. Just before you passed out you heard him say, 

“You tried to hurt yourself all because you didn’t want to be bonded to me. I couldn’t allow that. I know that you don’t want me as your soulmate, but I know that you can learn to love me. I’ll take you somewhere where I can keep an eye on you and make sure that you never try to hurt yourself, or sever our bond again. Whether you want it or not, you and I were meant to be. You should know by now that you can’t fight fate.”

[purpleyoonn]

red string 2

“our connection is determined by a tiny invisible string”

summary: you figured it was too late for your string to solidify, used to the idea of finding someone on your own, who also never got their string. However, your string began to tug when you least expected it, to the last person or people you would have ever thought.

genre: soulmate au, red string of fate au, poly au,

pairing: BTS (Yoongi centered) x Reader

status: ongoing (random updates)

warnings: slight yandere themes, insecure reader, alcohol, talks of jealousy, soul bonds, mentions of past abuse,

chapter warnings: soul pain, first meetings, running away, mc didn’t really want a bond, cinderella-esque plot line, mc is cynical, allusions to past abusive relationship, bad flashbacks, kind-of kidnapping but not really??, soul tug, mc has ptsd, 

I am not going to have a taglist for this fic. I will only be using the permanent taglist as its intended for all of my fics.

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp​ @yourleftsock​ @skyys-universe​ @cryingpages​ @strxwbloody​  @drissteele​ @dustyinkpages​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @crushedblackroses​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @blaaiissee​  @iiitsmaria​  @carolinexkpop​  @azazel-nyx​ @strawberry-moonpies​ @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​ @knjkitten​ @foreverweareyoung7​ @lachimolala22019​ @namuficxs​ @94z-93​ @kimgmzmc​ @thenaverse​ @dahliasbouqet​ @black-rose-29​ @tinyoonsblog​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @stellauniverse​ @stupendouscookiehumanmug​ @tinyoonsblog​ @veronawrites​ @tatyhend​ @singukieee​ @m0v3m3ntsblog​ @exfolitae​ @butterymin​ @queen-in-the-shadows​ @anaspectoflife @welcometomyworld13 @slinekyu @ghostlyworld@svnbangtansworld @loisje123 @i-have-no-life-charlie @danielle143 @jcrml@softieyn @kyuupidwrites @friedlollipop @lulu-83​ @tokiodori​

masterlist // part 1 // part 3

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Previously on Red String:

“If Mr. Min saw you carrying her, you would need the medical room.” The guard’s words were blunt, but a little worrying.

“Mr. Min? You don’t mean…” Hong visibly paled as he looked down at you, his mind making the connection you didn’t want to say. His grip loosens as Hyunsoo takes you from his arms.

“I don’t need to remind you of the NDA you signed, do I, Hongmin?” The man who found you shook his head quickly, before looking down at you once more and walking away. You could almost see his body shaking as he did so.

Still unable to move your neck, you grumble into the guard’s chest.

“So, how’s it goin?” You ask, your brain’s defense system seeing sarcasm as its only choice.

The guard assigned to you was immensely stoic; silent in a way you couldn’t even crack a smile out of the man as you grumbled to yourself.

“You know, this was not how I wanted to spend my birthday. I imagined, well, hoped for, a nice drink and take out with a crappy movie I could laugh mindlessly to. Not having fate move against me and trap me against the bathroom door.”  The guard just kept walking, sometimes stopping to adjust you in his arms as your body arguably continued to let gravity do its job, more or less against your will but who were you to fight against fate when it went with your own wishes.

“So, where are we goin?” You asked him, trying to get the man to crack, but he just continued to ignore you. You weren’t going to give up though.

You could vaguely hear the music playing, the concert still happening as you were being brought to your doom. You wondered where the man was taking you, only slightly correct in the idea that you would be brought to a waiting room of some sort. However, you realized you were wrong when you were brought to a very nice room, three big couches taking up the left of the room while a couple of tables and vanities took up the other half.

The guard, and consequently you, only made it a couple of steps in before the door was being opened again. Well, more like the door was slammed open, almost flying off its hinges as the man you were trying to run from pushed his way into the room. You would have laughed at the growl coming from Yoongi’s lips if it wasn’t aimed in your direction, and a shiver raced up your spine. You were practically shaking in the guard’s arms!

Yoongi was surely gone, Agust D taking his place as the dark look in his eyes takes in your figure, resting in the arms of the guard he had assigned to watch you. He couldn’t explain the rage he felt when he saw you in the arms of someone else; someone who wasn’t him! You were his bond, his red string! He could feel the growing possessiveness he held for you, his instincts screaming at him.

“Sirs, I—” The guard tried to explain but began to stutter after being pinned with six other glares that accompanied Yoongi’s; looks that radiated anger and power looked at him, and only then did the guard realize what he was doing wrong. He didn’t understand why the guard was holding you when he said not to touch you.

Yoongi just held his hand up, stopping the man from continuing his apologies, and stepped forward, arms reaching to take you from him. You only grunted, not exactly wanting to be in Yoongi’s arms but unfortunately, the stupid soul tug was still in effect. You couldn’t fight against the idol who now tightened his embrace around you and cradled you to his chest like a lost kitten. Like he expected you to jump from his arms any second and run.

Well, he wouldn’t be wrong.

It’s not like I could make it far anyways. You answered the stupid voice in your head.

You ignored the warmth building in your veins, ignoring the way Yoongi’s touch had your body unwillingly relaxing into his arms as you tried to move your head to see where your strings led.

You had almost forgotten about your fourth string, now split into four other pieces, each leading to the members you had yet to meet. You had seven total strings and each one led to one of the boys.

Man, Lindsey was right.

Let’s not tell her that, though. You internally cringed, knowing exactly how your best friend would react. The words “I told you so” would not be the last thing leaving her mouth, unfortunately. She would never let you live this moment down. Ever.

You couldn’t hear anything Namjoon was saying to the guard who brought you here, only seeing the dragon eyes aimed at the shorter man, and the way the guard was nodding every couple seconds. Within a minute the guard had all but ran out of the door, Namjoon turning to you with a smirk on his lips.

You were about to make some remark to the taller man smirking at you but your breath whooshed out instead when Yoongi turned you around and sat down with you still in his arms. He adjusted you so your head was resting back against his shoulder and you were facing the room, feeling entirely too exposed.

“You’re not very good at running, are you?” Yoongi murmured into your ear, causing that stupid, heated blush to creep up your neck and ears. You could practically feel the damn smirk creeping on his lips.

“You knew I’d be here.” You stated, now having put everything together. They were responsible for your and Lindsey’s seat changes and for the guards keeping an eye on you., making you feel watched and panicked.

“We did say we wanted to speak with you in private…” You turn your head to see Taehyung and Jimin seated on a smaller loveseat to your right. Taehyung had a neutral expression but you could see in his eyes something different, while Jimin was just hopeful, watching your own facial expressions carefully.

You look down at Taehyung’s words, feeling the pain of rejection and hurt all over again. You didn’t think you wanted to have a conversation that would lead to where you thought it was going to, so you wanted to avoid it all together.

It seemed Yoongi could tell where your thoughts were going, moving his arm from around your waist to slowly trail his fingers up your arm and to your wrist, turning your left hand over connecting his palm with yours, intertwining his fingers with yours causing the thick, dark red string connecting you to glow for a couple of seconds before returning to normal. The bond snapping back into place after being incomplete from your first meeting.

The first stage of the bond, the soul tug, was meant to ensure that the bond was being completed. This meant you now couldn’t go be more than a few feet from any of the boys once you had physical contact. By you running, and now Yoongi holding you, the first stage had begun.

You try to leave his grip, feeling the tingling and numbness in your toes starting to disappear, but unfortunately, the rest of your body was not so lucky. When Yoongi noticed your attempts, he smiled smugly, taking advantage of the fact that you couldn’t move or leave him by holding you tighter against him.

“Do you not feel the tug? Do you not feel the way your body relaxes against Yoongi’s touch, even against your own subconscious?” Namjoon’s questions have you tensing again, not wanting to answer his question, instead you stare at your bonds, noticing the tugging sensation and the ripples in color whenever one of them moves.

“Do you not feel the bond you so obviously share with us, the one you continue to fight against?” Namjoon continues, frowning as Yoongi leans back to rest against the back of the couch, your body unhappily following along. Your cheeks grow hot again, your body working against you and showing the way you feel about the answers to his questions, completely giving you away to the intelligent leader.

“Ignoring the feelings you have for the bond; it does not ignore the fact that we are soulmates. Your strings are connected to ours. You are ours whether you like it or not. We aren’t going to let you go and we aren’t going to just let you walk out of here without us by your side.” You open your mouth in shock at the leader’s words, wondering where in the hell he got is audacity from?! The rest of the boys were nodding their heads in agreement, as if they had already discussed this.

Which they probably did, the little voice in your head tells you.

You ignore the voice and you ignore the butterflies in your stomach at Namjoon’s claim. You hadn’t realized how much you would love the idea of being claimed until it was staring you in the face, with a little tilt of the head and a raise of the eyebrow.

Before you could argue against his words, you could feel your phone in your back pocket vibrating. You sighed out in relief and hoped you could use this as an excuse to leave.

Lindsey you are a life saver! You praised your best friend in your head, only to start cursing as you felt Yoongi reaching for your phone, his hand resting just a little too long against the curve of your ass before taking your phone out of your pocket.

“Give me—" You’re cut off but Yoongi pressing the answer button and pressing your phone to his own ear.

“Where the hell are you dude? You disappeared and missed the entire concert! I’ve been looking for you everywhere and trying to think nice thoughts while one of those guards from earlier follows me around!”

“I’m sorry about that. You must be Lindsey?” Yoongi’s voice was soft, like velvet as he spoke to your friend. You were in shock at the change in his voice, from sultry to being as sweet and innocent as can be.

“Who is this and why do you have my best friend’s phone?”

“This is—”

“Is this Yoongi? Oh my god! Uhm, you know what, never mind. Just make sure she goes to bed on time. She gets cranky in the mornings.” Yoongi wasn’t even able to get a couple words out before Lindsey recognized his voice.

Hmm. It seems our little soulmate told her friend about us. And she approves. Yoongi hummed to himself as Lindsey hung up the phone after promising she would give your things to the guard following her, assuming that he was working with the boys and she was right.

“Well, it seems as though your friend is just fine with you coming home with us.” Yoongi’s smile brightened as he watched the others faces light up, Jungkook was especially excited as he knew you were his age. He hoped you liked to cuddle, seeing as the others never liked to stay in bed as long as he did.

“What… I…uh?” You stammered, brain moving too slow as you tried to come up with a way out if this, forgetting the fact you still couldn’t move.

You hear a slap and see Jungkook bouncing in his seat, clearly excited for you to come home with them. He was slapping his thighs and talking animatedly to Jin about all of the things he planned to do with you. You would have been completely endeared by his plan to play video games with you if you weren’t internally freaking out.

“I can’t go with you!” You blurted out, cringing a little at how loud you were.

“Why not?” Hoseok inquired; eyebrow raised as he watched you come up with an excuse.

“I, uhm, don’t have any clothes.” You replied, a little proud of your quick answer only for your smile to shatter at Jimin’s words.

“We can give you some!” You paled at his own excitement, not wanting to crush his plainly obvious feelings of hope. Strike one.

“I don’t have any of my things.” Someone knocked on the door, Jin moving around to reveal a man holding onto your bag making you rest your head back against Yoongi’s shoulder, trying to think.

“Look, your bag is right here.” Strike two.

“You guys must be really busy. I don’t want to bother you or anything…” Your last hope to weasel your way out of the situation was destroyed by Taehyung, his smile wide as he counters your words.

“Actually, we planned for you to come with us anyways. We have the next couple of weeks free. You know, we don’t want the soul pain to start.” Taehyung has his own moment of satisfaction as he sees your face pale at his words, knowing all of your plans to leave were thwarted by him. 

Fuck, you cursed.

How in the world did you forget about the soul pain period?

It’s not my fault! I forget a lot of things.

Well, now you can’t be more than a couple feet from them without immense pain. Good job.

You had completely forgotten that when a bonded person meets their soulmate or soul group, completely, for the first time, the string snaps together, leaving each person with only a few feet of leeway to move away. It could last for several days or weeks, depending on the bond and how many people are connected. With your luck and how the universe seems to be against you, you guessed it would be months before you were able to leave.

Strike three and you’re out.

-*-*-

You pouted the entire way to the boy’s home, unable to move even an inch from Yoongi’s arms without the slight pain tugging at your chest making you groan out and want to gouge your heart out. How dare your body do this to you?

The boys, on the other hand, were all making bets on how long you would try to fight them. They could tell this was just some sort of defense mechanism and were all building their own individual plans to make you theirs. They knew it was only a matter of time before you were seeking them out.

“Welcome home, baby.” Jin smiled down at you as he unlocked the door. It made your insides tingle and made your head hurt all at the same time. For a second you couldn’t remember why you were fighting against this, everything becoming jumbled together in your head. You couldn’t remember the fear you felt for the bond, the trauma from your last relationship almost disappearing from your mind as Jin smiled at you.

Your thoughts were forgotten when Namjoon placed his hand on your back, helping you inside, through the living room and down the hallway until you appeared at the entry of a room with a very large, wall to wall bed. It looked like the comfiest cloud of softness you had ever seen.

You were practically melting at the idea of being able to lay in the soft warmth you could only imagine you would feel.

“Why don’t you get changed, baby.” Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk at your face, the way it changed from adoration to a deadpan as you looked up at him.

“I’m not changing in front of you.”

“Baby, I can almost guarantee you’re going to want to strip in front of me eventually…if it’s not me undressing you.” Jungkook retorted, smirk growing into a devilish grin as your eyes narrowed.

“You wish I would undress for you.” You snap back, trying to take a step back only for the tug to bring you closer than before. This makes Jungkook’s grin widen.

“Baby, it’s not a wish.” Jungkook pushes further, an inch away from being able to steal a kiss from your lips, and boy was he tempted!

Until he noticed the fear behind your eyes, causing him to step back and turn around. He was mortified! You had thought he was going to force himself on you?! He needed to talk to the others, but how were they going to do that when the soul tug was active?

When you were finished changing into the oversized shirt and shorts, you timidly tapped on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I’m uh, I’m changed now.” Your entire demeanor had shifted, flashback after flashback trying to steal your vision as you forced yourself not to shake. You were scrappy, you knew that, but only to defend your own mind from what it saw as a threat. 

You could not put yourself in a position to be vulnerable again. (But you also didn’t want to let on that anything was wrong. You couldn’t have that conversation. Not right now, hopefully not ever.)

“I’m sorry if I pushed you. I was only teasing.” Jungkook tried to apologize, his hand reaching out to grasp onto your arm but you flinched away from him, the soul tug allowing you a few feet leeway.

“It’s uh, it’s okay.” You rushed out, trying to end the conversation before you could imagine where it would go. But Jungkook was observant, and he could practically feel the pain in your heart. Something happened. Something that had you flinching away and fighting a soul bond.

And he had a bad feeling about it.