#the trust in your feet planted being the only thing that keeps you alive and sane

[flowercrowngods]

god the way i’m obsessed with the quarry rn i only wanna write “deep talk at the quarry” fics because nothing will make your breath quite like an abyss at night that will make the world turn upside down for a few hours but the only monsters are those inside your head, and the only way to defeat them is to talk and breathe and live despite everything

[clangenrising]

Month 2 - Newleaf

Yarrowshade padded just ahead of Pantherhaze through the tall grass on the hill that led up to the thunderpath. As the clan’s best hunters, they had taken to going out together to see how much prey they could catch.

“We’ll make it a game,” Yarrowshade had said with a taunting grin, “a competition. To see who’s better.” 

“And I suppose you think you’ll win?” Pantherhaze had raised his brows in amusement in response. 

“Um, yeah,” Yarrowshade had replied. “Why would I propose a competition I thought I would lose?” 

Pantherhaze had laughed. “Fair point. Well, it sounds like a good way to get everyone fed so… deal. Get ready to lose.” 

Now, about a month into their bet, Yarrowshade was behind by about ten catches and he wasn’t going to let that stand so today he had dragged Pantherhaze to the southern border looking for a plentiful hunting ground. 

“You’re sure you want to go over the thunderpath?” Pantherhaze asked again, tail twitching slightly with worry. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Trust me, there’s a bunch of birds and things just over it that don’t expect to get eaten. It’ll be easy pickings.” 

“It’ll take more than a good hunting spot to catch up to me,” the other warrior huffed with exertion, watching his paws as he climbed the steepest part of the hill. Yarrowshade paused at the top to look down at him with a smirk.

“Oh, I’m not just going to catch up, Hazey, I’m going to take the lead by thirty fox-lengths!” He puffed up his chest and purred smugly. Pantherhaze jogged the rest of the distance to him and reared to batter his ears with playful strikes. He laughed and swatted back before pulling away to continue leading their little patrol towards the bounty waiting on the other side of the thunderpath. 

“You’ve got bees in your brain, Yare,” said Patherhaze fondly as he fell in behind the ginger tabby. They marched through the tall grass in a relaxed manner, the only sound being the reassuring quiet rustle of plants in the breeze and birds somewhere nearby. However, as they slowed to poke their heads out of the sheltering grass, both cats felt their hackles rising at the smell of blood. It wasn’t an uncommon smell on the thunderpath, but it was unsettling nonetheless because it wasn’t the tempting scent of prey blood but the distinct smell of an injured cat. Yarrowshade reared up on his hind legs to look over as much of the thunderpath as he could and spotted a limp ginger body in the middle of the path, a few fox-lengths away.

“Look,” he said and dropped down to start creeping closer. 

Pantherhaze bristled anxiously. “W- Careful!” 

“I’m being careful,” he murmured back. For some reason, he felt the need to keep his voice soft and his pawsteps light, as if trying to stay hidden, even though the strange cat was probably dead and there were no monsters in sight. Glancing back, he asked, “Keep watch, yeah?” Pantherhaze frowned deeply but, after a moment, nodded, and cast his eyes down the thunderpath in both directions. 

Knowing his friend was watching his back, Yarrowshade refocused on the task at hand. He crept up on the body - a she-cat by the smell of it - with wide, curious eyes. Her long, feathered tail was a deep ginger but as he got closer, he saw that her pelt was mostly a dusty brown. He’d never seen a cat like her before. Her pelt was a little scraped up, but as far as he could tell there weren’t any mortal wounds. He hovered over her, mouth open to scent for the source of the blood as he lifted a paw to gently prod her side. The she-cat groaned blearily and shifted, causing him to flinch backwards.

Pantherhaze noticed and called over, “What is it!?” 

“She’s alive!” Yarrowshade called over his shoulder. “I’m gonna try and wake her!” Carefully he shook her shoulder a bit, eliciting more pained groans. 

“Uh, hey there…” he ventured. “You alright?” 

She shifted again and managed to pull her feet underneath her, crouching defensively as she turned to face him, revealing a trail of thick blood rolling between her striking blue eyes. “Wh… What…” she tried but couldn’t make it much further into the sentence. She winced and ducked her head, clearly in a lot of pain. 

“Hey, it’s alright. Let’s get you off the thunderpath, yeah?” 

“The… what…?” she looked around and then swallowed. “Oh. Yeah, o…okay.” Yarrowshade sighed in relief and gave her shoulder a few reassuring licks, ignoring the acrid taste of monster that clung to her fur. He came up behind her and nudged her side and she instinctively moved away. He shepherded her back to Pantherhaze this way, only pausing to let her rest once they were safely hidden among the grass at the top of the hill. 

“Are you alright?” Pantherhaze asked, sniffing at the messy wound on her forehead. The stranger pulled away from him but winced at the sudden movement and lowered her head, looking sick to her stomach. 

“I’m fine,” she managed after a moment with an attempt at a smile. 

“You should come with us,” Pantherhaze said quickly. “We have someone back at camp who will know how to help you.”

Seeing the suspicion in the she-cat’s eyes as she regarded the offer, Yarrowshade added, “At the very least, we have herbs to help with the pain.”

 She glanced at him with her eyes only, holding as still as she could, and thought for a moment before she closed her eyes and huffed, “I guess why not. Not like I could stop you if you decided to make me.” 

“We would never,” Pantherhaze assured her and Yarrowshade chuckled at his friend’s naivety. 

“Yeah, it would be much easier to leave you to die,” he joked. Pantherhaze scowled at him but, surprisingly, the stranger laughed. 

“I ‘spose so, huh…” she did her best to stand up straight and open her eyes so she could look at them as she said, “You can call me Scorch.”

“Good to meet you, Scorch,” Yarrowshade grinned. “I’m Yarrowshade, this is Pantherhaze. We’re from RisingClan.”

“Oh… you’re those cultists I’ve been hearing about.” 

“Cultists!?” Pantherhaze blustered, tail lashing. “What do you mean, cultists?” 

Yarrowshade brushed his tail against his friend’s leg. “You can interrogate her about it once she’s had a few poppy seeds, Hazey. Come on.” And with that he pressed up against Scorch’s side, allowing her to lean on him on the walk back to camp.

UPDATES:

- A rogue named Scorch is found on the thunderpath.

[breakfastteatime]

Today's request is 'You've got one minute' for @ralndown ^_^

Every time Cal thinks he’s settling into a routine on Bracca, something awful happens. Maybe the Ibis Maw gets hungry for flesh and grabs a tentacleful of unsuspecting scrappers. Maybe a ship that’s been in the same place for two years suddenly decides to collapse under its own weight. Maybe someone breaks something aboard an old terraforming lab and suddenly there’s a bunch of people turned into trees.

Today, Cal’s crew makes it halfway through their shift before the worst, most terrifying siren goes off. Bracca doesn’t have a lot of warnings for incoming disaster, but this one? This is the one they’re all trained to react to in one way, and one way only.

Get out. Get out now or die.

Maybe that’s why the Force left Cal feeling nauseous all day. It’s so useful like that.

Dropping the wires he’d started stripping, Cal follows the others. Prauf’s leading them and he’s already on the comms, listening intently to whatever’s being said. When he stops still and holds up a hand to make everyone else do the same, Cal shivers under the weight of the collective fear around him.

It only gets worse when Prauf starts issuing orders in a sharp tone of voice Cal’s never heard before.

“It’s a chemical leak. A bad one. We’re too deep in the ship to get out in time. Get into your emergency teams, find a room, and seal yourselves in. If we’re lucky, we’ll see each other on the other side of this thing.”

People break off into their groups. There’s no time for goodbyes or good lucks. Cal sticks close to Prauf and Tabbers. He takes a breath and immediately coughs it out, a sharp bite scraping the back of his throat. Prauf grabs him, throws him into a room, and Tabbers seals the door.

It’s not enough. The room, a tiny refresher, has an air conditioning vent high on the ceiling. Even Prauf can’t reach it to close it off. Gas seeps in. Cal hears people coughing and choking from all around, senses their fear and pain.

“We gotta seal it, now!” Tabbers shouts. His eyes stream, coughing hard. “We’ve got one minute before we’re all spitting out chunks of our lungs.” He pulls a wall panel down. “Weld this over that vent!”

“Lift me up,” Cal says. He puts his filter mask on, hoping it will help. “I can do it.”

Putting his own mask on, Prauf grabs Cal, lifting him. Cal plants his feet on Prauf’s shoulders. His eyes burn, so full of tears he can hardly keep them open. Tabbers hands him a sheet of metal and Cal presses it to the vent, welding torch in hand as he covers it up. He can’t keep his eyes open, so he trusts Prauf to guide him, molten metal sealing the panel in place.

“Good job,” Prauf says, lowing Cal down. “Sit, both of you. That gas is light, so we should be safer down here.”

Cal’s feet touch the ground. He drops to the deck moments later, eyes squeezed shut, lungs still rebelling. His mask isn’t doing much to help, but it’s better than nothing.

“Is this shit what I think it is?” Tabbers’ voice is muffled by his mask.

“Yeah,” Prauf replies. Cal hears him sit beside him. “Someone messed up big time.”

“I’d threaten to beat the idiots myself, but I cannae imagine they’re alive now,” Tabbers says.

“What is it?” Cal asks when he can talk again.

“A chemical weapon designed to rot battle droids,” Prauf says.

“Aye, not that it worked,” Tabbers adds. “It’s far better at killing us organics.”

Cal never heard about anything like that. Not that he tells the others. The idea that the Republic would create something like that leaves him nauseous.

“Looks like no one thought to remove the canisters before we started pulling this thing apart,” Prauf says. “Foreman said someone cut off the wrong thing and boom – we’re all breathing in poison.”

Cal doesn’t join the conversation. He pulls his knees to his chest, keeps his eyes firmly closed, and tries not to suffocate in the feelings of so many people dying around him. He pushes the Force away, begs it to leave him alone like it usually does.

“Cal?”

Prauf’s big, warm hand lands on his back. Cal startles, eyes flying open. His vision is fractured by the tears still running, but the burn is easier to manage now.

“You okay?” Prauf asks.

“Yeah,” he says, knowing he doesn’t have to worry about how rough his voice sounds. And then, because he needs a distraction, he keeps talking. “Can’t believe we’re stuck in a ‘fresher.”

Tabbers chuckles. “Get comfy, brat. We might be here a while.”

It’s two days before the foreman gives them the all-clear. The survivors are given a half-shift break to clean up, get something to eat and drink, and then sent back to work to make up for the two days of sitting around doing nothing. Cal notes that their crew is down several people when they meet up to be assigned duties, but no one says anything.

Back to the Bracca routine.

[kimmykoosh]

Finished all DLC's for New Vegas. Here's what my review of them so far, according to the order I played. Very biased and contained opinions.

Old World Blues (Science fantasy gone wrong).

My first entry to the new world. After failing to make it out from Think Tank for a 987- a couple of tries, I manage to keep myself alive for most of the expedition here. Best DLC in my opinion. New world, so much to discover, new guns, everything is out there to kill you, great. Story wise, I admit, I had to provide extra attention to differentiate the doctors here without confusing things. Most of the science fiction things they often described and the references they gave are all over my head and often made me sleeepy. But I LOVE LOVE LOVE the personified helpers. Sinks, doc, the sexy jukebox and the plant seed thing that helped me too many times in making things. The scientists came to grew on me. I like the suit talking to me because it's lonely being by yourself in an empty world :')))

TLDR; All the science fiction things are snoozefest, but I am still alive after got shot in the head, getting labotomized AND played around with my organs. NPC's are fun and have many personalities. Lots of new weapons, upgrades and big place to make my stimpaks. 10/10 would give Muggy more coffee mugs for his sanity.

Honest Hearts (A much more vertically challenging desert with a view. )

Entered this with half of my things, and a heartache coz I actually reseted 4 times just to save my Caravan crew. And accidentally shot Follows-Chalk because I thought he was a baddie before I realize I'd done goofed up. Story wise, the whole thing was okay. Nothing much I'd care since Salt-Upon-Wounds will kill me regardless if I'm doing pacifist or not. I did enjoy getting high to fight a ghost bear. The map was big enough for me to find everything, but didn't make me care for it much. Joshua Graham is okay, but he didn't like me raiding his stuffs to make bullets that fucker has a bajillions of pistols wtf rude.

TLDR; Forgetable DLC, NPC is one-sided. But the view though. Plentiful mountains, greeneries and high skies. Also lots of fresh water. Sometimes rain. That's new. Weapons are, meh. Useful if you use unarmed or melee. 4/10, would kill more Yao Guai.

Dead Money (Ghost Town Heist With the Gang. )

Started this with a bump on the head (poor Courier holy shit) The only DLC that made me feel challenged because of the constant ducks and sneaking. The Ghost People are creepy and also hard to hit. I cant remember how many times I had to look down and check at my feet or I'll be blown up and get detected. The place is very barren of any places to make stuffs and bullets so you'll learn to adapt with alternate weapons and use any ammo you do have or get, while the Sierra Madre vending machine becoming your next best friend. The NPC's though. The beeping on my neck will haunt me for the rest of my days and I get that casino Obsessed freak to thank for. I'm sad I didnt get too much time with Christine, because she seemed to be a great character towards the end. Dean Domino is a charismatic asshat that gives out very convenient stashes everywhere, but we didn't get to be friends. I did like him though, brilliant mind, just doesn't trust in people. Didn't get to know much about God, coz Dog is too fun and made me feel safe from the people. Story wise, it's very well paced. Though after I opened up the casino, and darted through ALL the ghost people in town by myself, I cant help but noticed I missed something else, but the collar keeps on killing me and I had to go to the next place without checking. Just wished I can check it myself without dying.

TLDR; DLC's challenging, but not that you can't do it. You can do this without killing as much of the Ghost People if you can. Story is rich in juicy details. Betrayal, conflict, and also, plain love. Always love Laura Bailey inside as Vera Keyes. 8/10 for exploding collars.

Lonesome Road (The Sad Tale of the 2 Couriers. )

The only DLC that has a history of the player in past tense, other than being dead, and a mailman. This also introduces our antagonist of the DLC, Ulysses. A very angry ghost who talk through EdE.

Okay, Ulysses is interesting. We got to know about him more throughout the DLC. His history and how he came to here. Interestingly he knew about the factions in New Vegas and everything that is happening there. He is honestly my saving grace in this DLC, but god, his prosses and the way he talks is so BORING. Often I had to relax and do something else for me to understand much about what he is saying. Does that outed me for being an idiot? Maybe? I guess coming from the Legion, he has a style of talking that is unique.

As for the rest of the playthrough, the DLC provides a different thing in going through the whole map. We get to use the laser blaster to blast through and open up certain sections of the blocked roads. Other than some extra weapons, the map and gameplay was decent. I certainly didnt expect to see the Deathclaws coming in here.

TLDR; A very good connection towards Ulysses, a fellow courier that saw our work, and then blamed us for nuking the entire map. Among all of the DLC's I enjoyed this one for the courier per courier connection. I dont really enjoy the Deathclaws and the long and frivolous way to get to Ulysses' hideout. 4/10 for more couriers sending bombs towards the Mojave wastelands, to combat Ulysses' boring speech.

[crescentcrowd]

Bea’s bio simplified: Bea was essentially sheltered by her mother to the point of suffocating and she managed to keep Bea from leaving Lunar Cove for years until Bea realized that she was being manipulated. She went to California for a couple years to go to school and become a pastry chef. Her mother died and Bea went back to Lunar Cove, eventually becoming the Advisor. Then the previous Fae Queen was murdered leading to Bea becoming the new Fae Queen.

Or read the full bio here.

Fun Facts:

She grew up very sheltered and because of that often has issues with trust, from either becoming exceedingly paranoid to oversharing, depending on the person.

Has a cat named Theodore that she would kill for.

It’s a habit still to bring up her mother regularly ( “Oh, my mom always said this is the best brand for pasta, so I just kept getting it, I guess.”) but doesn’t ever speak of their falling out. When asked deeper questions about her mother she usually changes the topic.

Still doesn’t know much about her father and struggles between wanting to ignore it completely or go track him down to see what he’s like... if he’s still alive.

She often holds her friends at arm’s length. While she appears to be very warm and open, she is usually only open about surface level things, after all it’s hard to explain a lot of her sheltered life when the basis of it lies in the fact that she’s a supernatural being who predicts death.

Since becoming the Advisor, Bea had started to come into herself. Though it was hectic planning for Marjorie and the Court along with her actual job, Bea found herself glad to be useful. Her confidence found a boost once she hit her stride. Becoming the Queen, however made her falter.

She doesn’t believe that she’s the best choice to lead the Fae, but she’s following tradition and trying to look strong for the rest of the Court and the town since they need to feel safe and secure.

The Faerie Ring has alarms on most bedroom doors wake fae up when they sleep walk. However, sometimes after sleepwalking she can’t fall back asleep and ends up in any establishment still open just to shake off any bad dreams.

Her sweet tooth is what led her to become a pastry chef, that and finding she was quite adept at getting lost in the small details of it all. Though she’s often awake far earlier than most to make sure pastries are ready for the day, she is glad it frees up most of her afternoons.

Connection Ideas:

Fae Court: She’s your Queen now. In a not weird way. If you have fae related troubles, she can lend an ear and see what can be done. Though she was already doing this as an Advisor for the last few years, now she can actually be the person to help. And she does, of course, have a soft spot for banshees. The Faerie Ring is also open to any new fae that need a place to get on their feet if they need it.

Sweet Tooth: Bea works at Sucre, making pastries for the rest of the town to rot their teeth out. If you’re a frequent visitor you might have seen her behind the counter and swapping out trays of pastries. Rumor is she gives out pastries to her favorites.

Exes and Flings: These are a bit less likely to happen. She did have a highschool partner but ended up breaking up with them when she moved to LA. There, she had a short lived relationship with Ken Matsui...who she also broke up with, by moving back to Lunar Cove. But there are probably a few here and there that she didn’t move cross country to break up with.

Neighbors: Bea has lived in Lunar Cove all her life except for a couple years in LA. She would have been the perfect neighbor, quiet and unobtrusive, water your plants and watch your pets on vacation, if you need anything, she’s there. Nowadays, she’ll make a pie and coffee and flick her porch light on, a signal to neighbors to come on over and have a slice and talk about the town.

[samwisethewitch]

Working with Spirits

In my last post, I talked about different types of spirits that witches may work with. Today, we’re going to discuss how to approach spirits and establish a working relationship.

Keep in mind that these are general guidelines, and every spirit is different. I encourage you to do your own research beyond this post, especially if you plan to work with powerful entities like deities, angels, or fairies.

Remember the Four R’s

It’s important to keep these things in mind when working with spirits:

Respect. The spirits are powerful, and you need to have a healthy respect for that power when working with them. It’s also important to respect them as individual, autonomous beings.

I’m not saying that every interaction you have with the spirits needs to be a full blown ritual with incense and chanting. (In fact, some spirits don’t care for those types of rituals.) But every interaction you have with them should be conducted with an air of respect and reverence.

What this mostly boils down to is good manners. Being polite will get you better results — and it will also keep you from being on the receiving end of spirit mischief. Proper etiquette depends on the type of spirit you’re working with, which is one reason it’s important to do your research. In general, it’s polite to make an offering, use respectful language, and thank the spirits before you leave (unless you’re dealing with fairies — some traditions say you should never thank the fae).

Respecting spirits also means respecting their desires — even if that means respecting their wish not to work with you. Not every spirit you reach out to will want to form a relationship with you, just like not every person you meet in your life will want to be your friend. When a spirit turns you down, respect their decision, politely bid them farewell, and move on.

Reciprocity. The goal of spirit work is to establish a mutually-beneficial partnership — not for one partner to serve the other. On one hand, this means that you can’t just command spirits to do your bidding without giving anything in return. On the other hand, it also means that you won’t be worshiping/honoring them without receiving some kind of boon.

This is why it’s important to make offerings to the spirits you work with. These offerings “feed” the spirits by giving them power, and a good offering will likely make a spirit more willing to work with you. Offerings are not payment for favors from spirits (it’s not quite that simple), but they are a sign that you intent to practice reciprocity in your relationship.

In general, it’s important to make an offering when you first introduce yourself to a spirit and again before you ask them for anything. But you shouldn’t only make offerings when you’re about to ask for something! How would you feel if you had a friend who only did nice things for you when they were about to ask for a favor? You’d probably start avoiding them, right? You might even get angry. To avoid this kind of dynamic in your spirit work, make regular offerings to the spirits you work with. If you’re especially close with a spirit, you may want to offer to them every day.

Relationship. The spirits are not vending machines where you put offerings in and blessings fall out. They are living, sentient beings with feelings, and deserve to be treated as such. Your relationship with the spirits you choose to work with is just that: a relationship. And like any relationship, it requires time, energy, and emotional labor.

If that sounds like more effort than you want to make, there are plenty of ways to do magic without ever working with spirits. You don’t need to do spirit work to be a witch. It may not be your thing, and that’s okay!

But if you choose to work with spirits, it’s important to remember that you are working with them as an equal partner — you’re not their boss, and they are not obligated to like you, help you, or even tolerate you. Relationships with spirits are built over time, through mutual respect and trust.

You wouldn’t drive up to your friend’s house, throw a fast-food burger at them, and then demand a special favor. Likewise, you shouldn’t just dump an offering on your altar and demand something of the spirits. Take the time to sit down with them. Talk to them. Get to know them. Put some thought into your offerings, instead of just offering the same thing every time. Spirit work is, at its core, about building an authentic relationship with the spirits we choose to include in our practice. Enjoy it.

Research. When it comes to spirits, it’s important to know exactly who (and what) you’re dealing with. As previously mentioned, the etiquette for dealing with fairies is very different from other land spirits. Different deities have different standards for their worshipers, which vary from one pantheon to the next. The way you interact with your ancestors will probably be shaped by their personalities, cultures, and values. All this is to say it’s important to know who you’re reaching out to, preferably before you reach out to them.

With deities, this is easy. Most witches who choose to work with deities will feel drawn to a certain pantheon, or even a specific god or goddess. There’s a lot of information out there about most historical pantheons, so researching them is easy. The same goes for angels, saints, demons, and even fairies.

It can be a little more difficult to do your research when you’re dealing with land spirits, spirits of place, or other less well-known figures. In these cases, it’s best to take three steps: 1.) figure out what type of spirit you’re dealing with (land spirit, animal spirit, ancestor, etc.), 2.) find out what this type of spirit is like generally, and 3.) find out how that applies to your specific spirit.

For example: you want to connect with your local land spirits. You do some research to find out how land spirits have been treated in various cultures — you find out that they’re typically benevolent, are closely tied to the natural landscape, and were often given food offerings. Then, you do some research into your local plants and animals — what form might a nature spirit take in your local environment? Would it be a huge moose with snow-covered antlers, or a magnolia tree in full bloom? Is there any local folklore in your area that could be describing a land spirit? Once you have answers to these questions, you’ll have a much better idea of how to approach the spirits and start up a relationship.

Initiating a Relationship with a Spirit

Begin by identifying who this spirit is. For example, let’s say you choose to reach out to a specific ancestor spirit — maybe a deceased grandparent. Make sure you’re familiar with the etiquette for interacting with this type of spirit so you don’t accidentally do something disrespectful. (If your Grandma hated cussing, try not to drop any f-bombs while communing with her.)

Create a special space to communicate with the spirit. This can be as simple as lighting a candle or as elaborate as setting up a special altar. If you’re reaching out to a grandparent, you might set up a small ritual space with a photo of them, any of their belongings that you have access to, and some things that they enjoyed while they were alive. These items may make the connection easier, but you don’t need them to communicate. What matters is that you’ve taken the time to create a special space for this moment. (Like all ritual spaces, it should be clean and tidy, and it’s a good idea to do an energetic cleanse beforehand.)

Make an offering. Make sure your offering is appropriate for the spirit you’re connecting to. Offerings should be made with an air of reverence — don’t just toss a bag of Doritos on your altar and expect it to be well-received.

Introduce yourself. Speak out loud. State your intention and who you are hoping to connect with.

Wait and listen. You may feel a presence or receive some kind of sign — or you may not. Just because you didn’t get a sign doesn’t mean that your offering wasn’t noticed or that you’re being ignored. You may also receive a sign several hours, days, or weeks after you first reach out. Be patient.

Say your farewells. Express your gratitude for the spirit’s presence, and let them know that you are ending your little ritual. It’s up to you whether to invite them to stick around or politely tell them to leave, but if you’re going to give a spirit permission to linger in your home you better be 1000% sure you know who they are and what their intentions with you are.

Moving Forward

As you work with this spirit, it is important to establish clear boundaries for the relationship. Be clear about what you want to accomplish by working with them, and make sure you understand what they expect from you in return.

You might want to establish a time limit: for example, maybe you’re choosing to work closely with the goddess Brigid from Imbolc to Samhain, at which point you can choose to continue the relationship or to take a step back. Or, you may choose to work with a spirit on a specific task — for example, working with the goddess Aphrodite to get back on your feet and rebuild your self esteem after a breakup. Once this task is accomplished, you may choose to form a more long-term relationship or to take a step back.

Forming a permanent or long-term working relationship with a spirit is a very big, very serious commitment, and should not be taken lightly. This goes double for anything involving a ritual commitment, such as dedication to a deity. When you make these commitments, you are choosing to make a spirit and their energy a permanent part of your life. This decision requires some very serious introspection and consideration, and should not be made impulsively.

Resources:

Southern Cunning: Folkloric Witchcraft in the American South by Aaron Oberon

A Practical Heathen’s Guide to Asatru by Patricia M. Lafayllve

Where the Hawthorn Grows and The Morrigan: Meeting the Great Queens by Morgan Daimler

Wicca for Beginners by Thea Sabin

Azrael Loves Chocolate, Michael’s A Jock: An Insider’s Guide to What Your Angels Are Really Like and The Angel Code by Chantel Lysette

New World Witchery podcast (several episodes, including “Episode 164 — Irish Folklore and Magic,” “Episode 161 — Practicing Safe Hex,” and “Episode 152 — Honoring Ancestors”)

[skeezsbbygirl]

kiss it better + bang chan

hello lovelies! (づ￣ ³￣)づ

im back with another bang chan scenario <3 hope you guys enjoy this one!! (oh and tmt hit 1k+ notes ahhh thank you so much >.<, also i might be uploading a prince!chan fic soon, stay tuned sunshines)

STRAY KIDS EVERYWHERE ALL AROUND THE WORLD.

"Chris, baby, please."

It's been two hours, nearing three, since Chris decided to give you the silent treatment. The cause of your current suffering rooted from the events that took place last night.

A college friend of yours happened to be visiting the city, and what better way to celebrate a rare occasion than dressing up and going for a girl's night out with a bunch of your other friends. Chris happily agreed to let you go, he didn't need much convincing since he trusted you with everything and that included you getting home in one piece.

As the late hours of the night passed and shifted over to the wee hours of the morning, Chris grew worried, checking his phone for the nth time as he expected a call or text from you to reassure him that you were fine, or that you were at least still alive somewhere.

Fortunately, he managed to get a hold of your situation through one of your friends, credits to Jisung for grabbing her number that one time you guys set them up for a date.

"Hyung, she said that (y/n) got into a cab ten minutes ago," Jisung explained over the phone. "Her phone also died, so that's probably the reason why you haven't heard from her," he added.

"Alright, got it. Thanks, Ji."

Strike one.

Your drunk self thought that it was a good idea to call for a cab, even declining your girlfriend's offer to drive you home. You insisted that you were fine and that you would only derail their way home since your apartment's route leads to the opposite direction. So, in your semi-intoxicated state, you hopped into a cab and made your way home.

Strike two.

You came home last night, struggling to keep a certain level of sobriety. Heels in one hand and your clutch in the other. You weren't completely hammered, but it was still enough to piss Chris off as he took in your drunken state.

Strike three.

Nevertheless, Chris patiently took care of you. He helped you out of your clothes, took your makeup off for you, and tucked you in bed with him.

You could've gotten away with what happened, until your hungover self decided to betray you.

When Chris sat you down for breakfast, he managed to ease in the happenings of last night, carefully bringing it up as to not agitate you or make you feel like he's blaming you for going out and having fun.

He was just worried, especially having known that you went home all by yourself without even contacting him.

"Baby, you could've borrowed one of your friends' phone and asked me to come pick you up," Chris sighed as he reached out for your hand, placing his on top of yours, his fingers tracing circles on your skin.

"I know and I'm sorry, but can you just scold me later?" you said, your tone a little harsher than you intended it to be, probably due to the lingering headache and side effects of your drinks last night. You felt like your skull was being split into two and you just wanted to eat and recover in silence.

"Babe, I'm not scolding you. I was just-"

You cut Chris off. "Alright, I get it, you were worried but I took care of myself. So let's just argue later, yeah?" you snapped.

And you're out.

Upon hearing your reply, Chris' jaw clenched, visibly appearing offended and irritated. He retracted his hand from yours, opting to cross his arms over his chest.

You bit your tongue when the words you spat out finally settled in. It sounded wrong and you definitely shouldn't have said that. You readied yourself for the argument that was about to ensue, but nothing came.

"Okay."

That was all he said before he stood up and left.

Your eyes widened at the sudden realization that slapped you back into reality, the ugly outcome of your sudden outburst.

You were about to get up and follow Chris to apologize, however, the sudden throbbing pain in your head disabled you from getting out of your seat. Instead, you were forced to sit back down and wallow in guilt.

And that's how you ended up getting the silent treatment.

You left your boyfriend alone for a few hours, hoping that his anger would dissipate by the time that your hungover got better. But much to your dismay, he wasn't having it with you.

"Baby, can I come in?" you knocked on the door of Chris' home studio.

Silence.

"Chris, baby, please," you tried again, but you were still met with silence. You let out a sigh as you ambled back towards the living room, deciding to just give him space and talk it out whenever he's ready.

Chris was naturally a forgiving person, a little tougher on his members, but a complete sweetheart when it comes to you. So when he gave you the silent treatment for the very first time that day, you didn't know what to do.

So, you waited.

A couple of hours passed, three and a half, now, to be exact, you heard Chris' door unlock. You immediately perked up at the sound, quickly scurrying on your feet to meet him.

"Chris, I'm sorry," you apologized with your head hung low, eyes on the ground, and fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

Nothing. Nothing, but the cold breeze of Chris passing by, giving you no due attention. He sauntered towards the kitchen and opened the fridge, paying more attention to the cold food items that were displayed in front of him.

How you wish you were the half-eaten cheesecake now, huh?

Having enough with his torturous act, you were set on using the two tricks you had up your sleeves -- 1) faking an injury, as petty as that sounds, you were desperate, and 2) luring him with something he likes, be it an innocent gesture or a daring one, you would practically do anything at this point.

With your first plan in mind, you crept up behind him and positioned yourself near the edge of the marble kitchen island, placing your hip at the sharp corner so that it would appear as if you bumped against it.

From a third person's point of view, you probably looked stupid, scratch that, you did look stupid, but you were set on breaking Chris' silent streak.

"Ah!" you yelped in pain, hands quickly coming up to clutch your right side. You dropped on the ground, still maintaining your hold on your "injured" torso.

As soon as you cried out in pain, Chris hurried to your side.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked with a worried expression plastered on his face. His cold demeanor immediately melting once he saw you clutching your side. "What happened, babygirl?" he crouched down to meet your level.

"I accidentally hit the edge of the counter," you said. "Come here, baby," Chris placed your arms around his neck as he scooped you up from the ground, carrying you bridal style towards the living room.

"Show me where it hurts, love," Chris ordered as he sat you down with him. He carefully moved you on his lap, making you straddle him.

"Right here," you pointed towards a random patch of skin on your right side. Chris placed his hand over the supposedly injured area, gently soothing it with the warmth that radiated from his palm.

Adding the icing on the cake, you hissed in pain as his hand came in contact with your skin. "Shh, it's okay, baby. I got you," Chris cooed as he planted a kiss on your cheek, in hopes of making you feel better.

He lifted your shirt up a bit, allowing him to inspect for any cuts or damage to your skin. "Do you want me to go get an ice pack?" Chris offered. "No, it's fine," you replied.

"Alright, just tell me if need anything," Chris responded as he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your exposed skin, tugging your shirt back down as he pulled away.

You nuzzled your face into his neck, in an attempt to conceal the grin that was forming on your lips. Completely fooled by your actions, Chris continued rubbing your side as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"Does it hurt anywhere else, baby?" Chris asked and you nodded. "Here," you pulled away from him and pointed towards your chest. He shot you a puzzled look, confused as to why your chest would hurt when you claimed that you bumped your side.

"Because I was trying to apologize to my boyfriend a couple of hours ago, but instead, he gave me the silent treatment," you pouted.

Chris bursted out in laughter as he heard your response.

"It's true. I followed him around like a lost puppy, but he locked himself inside his studio. Totally unfair and uncalled for," you continued and Chris shook his head in disbelief, his laughter coming to a stop as he calmed down.

"I could say the same thing about what happened last night," Chris challenged, raising one eyebrow at you.

"I'm sorry. I know I was being stupid. I should've called you or at least shot you a message from my friend's phone to let you know that I was coming home late. I just thought that if I called, I was going to end up bothering you, considering that it was such an ungodly hour," you explained, fiddling with the string of his hoodie.

"(Y/n), you could never be a bother to me," Chris said, "And did you honestly think that I could sleep knowing that you were out there?"

"I was so worried about you. Thank Jisung for having one of your friend's number because I was this close to losing it," Chris stated.

"I know. I'm really sorry," you pressed a kiss to his lips. "I promise I won't do it again, forgive me?" you added, pecking his lips once more.

"I can't stay mad at you," Chris let out a defeated sigh. "Of course. I forgive you, babygirl," he gave you a small smile.

You cheered and pulled him in for a hug, momentarily forgetting about your said injury.

"Do you feel better now?" Chris teased as he poked your sides, making you jolt in surprise. "Christopher!" you squealed, bursting in a fit of giggles as you realized that you've been caught red-handed.

Well, at least the intentions of your plan worked.

"You know what they say, desperate times call for desperate measures," you shrugged and Chris chuckled in amusement. He leaned in and gave you a kiss.

"You're lucky you're cute."

[dirt-cup-draco]

Tethered- Fred x Reader

‘Don’t ever scare me like that again’ kiss with Fred where he lives (I’ve been crying about it lately) xoxo @starofthedawn

Your chest was tied up in knots, eyes burning and bile rising in your throat. The dust that permeated the air felt like gravel in your airways and you couldn’t help the wet cough that slipped past cracked lips. Even as you blinked away the tears that were running out, the world remained blurry and unfocused. 

After all, how could anything make sense when Fred was face down on the cobblestone. Pieces of the castle you two had called home burying him. 

“Lost in my eyes again, Y/N?” Fred asked, a playful tilt to his mouth. You were in the library, head buried in a book and not at all gazing into Fred’s honeyed eyes. You must’ve not heard him come in so when you looked up and saw him you couldn’t help the warmth that blossomed in your chest. 

You liked the way his lips were pulled up by an invisible thread as you finally took notice of him.  It wasn’t quite a smile, but a familiar expression that you held dear to your heart. It was understated, especially for Fred Weasley, but the expression was one of his most sincere. 

“Can’t help the fact you’ve got dreamy eyes, George,” 

“Sod off,” Fred said with no real venom, sitting in the chair beside yours and kicking his feet up onto the table. He was lucky Madam Pince didn’t often come to this corner of the library, otherwise she’d have his head.

You stuck your tongue out at him, even daring to toss a quill at his head- but before you could he caught your hand and held on tight. Your bright grin wavered at the edges but that joy was still blooming in your chest. Suffocation was a sure thing. 

“Everything okay, Freddie?” Voice soft, slow. You understood sometimes he just needed a hand to hold and you wouldn’t let yourself believe it was more than that. What it was, was Fred trusting you and needing you as a friend and that was more than enough. 

He nodded, his eyelids heavy and his demeanor sluggish. He almost seemed like a sleepy cat but you could see the way his shoulders dipped as you posed your question. 

Fred squeezed your hand as he sank down into his chair, knees now drawn to his chest in a protective ball. “Course I am, nothing could ever be wrong when I’ve got you to tether me to what’s good,” 

--

Your knees buckled as you stumbled the last foot to where Fred lay. Unmoving, broken, probably not breathing- You shook your head wildly even as the tears burned and your brain ached. Just like every other wizard, every other soldier at Hogwarts today, you had your fair share of injuries but you felt the pain dull to nothing; Your vision tunneled to the familiar hand that stuck out from the rubble, the feather soft shock of red hair that was visible under all the grey, lifeless stone. 

With a flick of your hand, some of the rubble broke loose and found themselves discarded on the burned and torn up grass ten feet from you. The panic pounding at your ribcage was only eased by the determination you felt to get Fred out of there, alive. There was no other option. 

Waves would stand still without the moon, plants would dry up without water, and you would cease to be anything but a shell without Fred Weasley. 

--

It had been an honest mistake at the time, George had tugged you away after class one day to an empty corridor and nearly begged you to ask Fred and put the both of you out of your “self sabotaging misery”. Problem was, all Katie Bell saw was George whisking you away somewhere private a week before the ball was to commence, both of you dateless. 

By the time you had both gone to the great hall for lunch, your group of friends were deep into speculations. 

“Going to the ball with Y/N then?” Fred fixed George with a look you couldn’t quite decipher but the shock of him thinking such a thing had you missing that usual twitch of his eye when he was aggravated. 

George whipped his head to you in confusion but it went unnoticed when Lee said, “Great! Of course you two got dates before me,” gesturing wildly to the twins. 

All of the confusion had your head spinning but hearing that Fred had a date to the ball made you steady again, the lead pit in your stomach anchoring you. Anyone would be a fool to not want to go with Fred. 

“You’ve got a date?” You said a bit too loudly, eyes narrowed at Fred. 

“Asked Angie,” 

“Yeah, two minutes ago,” She snorted. “Guess he didn’t want George to beat him by too much of a landslide,”  

George let out a too-loud laugh and tossed his arm back over your shoulders. “Take that Lee, we got two of the hottest girls in school to be our dates,” 

“Go with me instead and I’ll buy you as many sugar quills as your heart desires, Y/N” Lee bargained and George swatted him on the back of a head with a faux glare. 

You couldn’t help but snort at Lee’s antics, looking at George with gratitude. You could tell he was trying to talk you up, keep your heart from falling too far. However, his efforts couldn’t completely ease the ache in your chest. You were tethered to Fred and you didn’t think anything could change that. 

--

You’d done your best to completely immobilize Fred when most of the rubble was removed, only some of the smaller chunks of wall now littered over his legs and back. The immobulus charm had to be enough to keep him stable. If he was still alive. 

It was the uncertainty that kept you going in this moment. If there was even a slim chance Fred could be alive, you would do all you could to save him. You refused to lose him and that was that. You wished you could see his chest moving, or any sign of life but he was still too buried and the dust that settled over the battlefield made your eyes unfocused. 

Even though the final battle had ended an hour or more ago, how long had it been since you’d found Fred?, you were shut off from any of the joy that the win could have brought you. If Fred wasn’t going to be there to celebrate then how could you? 

“We’ve got to fix up the shop a-and get butterbeers,” You sniffled, trying to keep your hands from shaking as you worked your way through the rubble. You kept speaking as if holding Fred to his promises would bring him over the threshold and into your waiting arms. 

“You’ve got to give me that birthday present you’ve been bragging about for months, and you’ve got to help me prank Lee for singeing my favorite sweater with one of your fireworks,”

And on and on you went, all of the promises Fred had ever made you falling from your lips as you pulled the last of the rubble from his body. One of his legs and all of the fingers on his right hand were bent at grotesque angles. There was a line of blood that started somewhere behind his hairline and trailed down his temple, dripping off of his jaw and onto the ruins he had nearly become a permanent part of. 

You wouldn’t permit your legs to shake as you stood, the sun being further down in the sky than you remembered. The wave of your wand was light and methodical even as every step towards help weighed you down. 

Time passed you without you taking note, the sun sank beneath the horizon and you stumbled your way through the dark. Eventually, you were taken off guard by the light of someone’s wand. Time caught up to you then as you stared with bleary eyes, trying to recognize the face before you but having a hard time sorting anything in your over exhausted brain. 

“Help him,” Was all you had energy for, before darkness took over. 

--

“...understand how she did it,” 

“...miracle, really,” 

“Poor girl must’ve....” 

Conversations floated around your head as you lay cemented underneath the sheets that you had been securely wrapped in. You wanted nothing more than to swat them away like pesky flies, the voices weren’t loud but to you it was as if someone had put a speaker in the empty space of your skull and turned the volume up as high as it could go. Everything ached. 

“Am I dead?” You croaked, eyelids still too heavy to even attempt opening. 

Immediately, a woman nearly screamed and a cacophony of other voices rose up- both familiar and not. 

“You look like you wish you were,” Someone joked to your left and your eyes snapped open so quickly you became dizzy. You felt frozen in place as honey eyes swept over you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. Despite being covered from the chin down you felt as if you were being looked through. A shiver ran down your spine and it was followed by a deep ache that had you groaning despite the emotions bubbling up within you. 

“Damn you Fred,” Was all you had to say before everyone else around you was clearing out. For a split second you felt guilt when you realized your parents as well as the Weasleys had come to stand beside you as you healed. 

“I’ve come back from the brink of death and that’s what you have to say to me?” He teased but his voice was torn to shreds and you had the terrible image in your mind of him screaming for help until he lost consciousness. The blood drained from your face. 

Fred seemed to take notice as he shuffled out of his bed that was right next to yours. He paused at the edge, fumbling for the crutches that were at his bedside. It felt like years the time it took for him to fall into the chair nearest you, his hand stretching for yours. 

You moved pathetically against the sheets but in your weakened state you couldn’t grasp his hand. “Freddie,” You croaked, eyes filling with tears in frustration. You’d thought him dead and now you couldn’t even move a damn blanket to touch him, to make sure this wasn’t a dream. 

“I’m here,” He reassured, moving the sheets on your side gently until your hand was free and you could tangle your fingers with his non-broken hand. 

“How?” 

“I’ve been telling you for years now, you’re my tether. Just when I thought I was going to cross over, I heard you. All the promises we made, and all the chaos we have yet to make, all the things I haven’t said,” Fred’s bottom lip trembled as he brushed his thumb over your scabbed knuckles. You were faintly aware of a needle in your forearm, attached to an IV but all that mattered was the warmth you felt from Fred. 

“You could break them all and I’d still be counting my lucky stars that you’re here,” You cried, falling into a coughing fit. Fred was quick to press a still cold glass of water into your hands and help you sit up even from his place on his chair. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” He promised, hand remaining at the back of your neck as he settled you against your pillows. That genuine not-smile was back and you chewed on your lip to keep from crying again. You still weren’t sure he was here so any reminder that it was really him had you at a breaking point. 

“Can you make me one more promise then?” You caught his gaze but found you couldn’t hold it, the intensity making your stomach swoop and your heart pound against your rattled ribcage. 

Fred had yet to move, his hand steady behind you and his face close. Your noses were nearly touching as he said, “Anything.” 

“Don’t scare me like that ever again,” 

You chanced one more look at him, eyes wide and pleading. You were going to make him promise on everything in him but the rest of your words were lost when you stumbled over the loud adoration in his eyes. As if on autopilot, you removed your hand from his to brush your fingertips against a gash on his cheek. 

“Never again,” He whispered, frozen in place. He didn’t dare move when you let your movements wander over his lips, taking your time before you let your hand fall against the junction of where his shoulder met his neck. Beneath the collar of the hospital gown you could see garish bruising that only served as another reminder you’d almost lost him. 

That was enough to remind you that there was much unsaid between you and the man you loved. You could feel his shaky breath, his hand squeezing yours just enough that you felt the reassuring pressure. When you took your third look at those eyes, you knew. 

You moved at the same time, in tune to one another in a way you always have been. It was with a sigh that your lips met, frightened and curious and wonderful. You were careful of his head would as you played with the hair at the back of his neck and he made sure not to move you anymore than tilting your head to slot your lips against his at a better angle. 

Fred pulled away when his smile dared to take over his face but you couldn’t complain about the loss when you could feel his pulse beating strongly against your fingers, his chest moving steadily with life. 

“I’m just as tied to you as you are to me,” You laughed softly, in disbelief. 

Fred looked surprised for all but a second before he was placing his lips against yours, cautious but deliriously happy. 

Waves swayed with the moon, plants flourished with water, and you were never far from Fred Weasley. Each were tethered to their counterpart and nothing could change it. 

[agustdakasuga]

Reflection Of You | Chapter 17

Genre: Historical!AU, Timetraveller!AU/ Different Dimension, Romance

Pairing: SUGA x Reader, Yoongi x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Idol!Suga, King!Yoongi, Guard!Seokjin, Guard!Jungkook, RoyalAdvisor!Namjoon, Servant!Jimin, Servant!Hoseok, Prince!Taehyung

Summary: Confirming you were dating the famous Min Suga of BTS, you knew you were bound to make some enemies. But what you didn’t expect was to be cursed, leading you to meet a cold-hearted, arrogant king that shares the same face as your rapper lover.  

It’s hard for Yoongi to open up. It’s hard for him to show the feelings that he’s been bottling up all those years. But maybe, just maybe, it’s time to let all of them go. 

Seokjin had come to inform you that Yoongi requested your company for dinner in the dining room. He waited for you to freshen up and escorted you and Jimin there. It was like deja vu as you took your seat to wait for Yoongi.

“The great king of Joseon, Min Yoongi, will be making his entrance.” Jungkook announced. Seokjin and Jimin bowed. 

“Long live the king.” They chorused. You remained seated this time, not even standing or bowing to Yoongi. Yoongi entered and stared at your still seated form, a small smile grazing his lips. You will never change and that’s what he liked about you. 

“Still refusing to bow down?” 

“You’ll live long enough, even without my wishes.” You scoffed. Yoongi chuckled and sat down in his spot. He waved at everyone to exit the room, leaving the two of you alone.

“How was gardening?” Yoongi asked as you poured alcohol into his cup. 

“It was so fun! I learnt a lot from the gardener! We planted some seeds and some plants that were already in pots.” You rambled. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Yoongi reached out to pat your head. The simple gesture was something he did so often now that it didn’t even seem weird to the both of you anymore. 

“And I didn’t know advisor Namjoon is also an avid gardener. Apparently, he waters the garden plants every day and he even has this huge plum tree!” You continued, even using your arms to try and show how big the tree was. But of course, it was an underestimation. Yoongi watched you with amusement, taking a sip of alcohol. 

“Is he now?” Yoongi asked. Of course, he knew that Namjoon liked plants and did all that but he thought he would entertain you a little. 

“Yeah. Jimin says the plums are sweet when harvested and the plum wine that is made from them is really good. I hope to try it sometime.” You nodded with a hopeful smile. 

“I can get it for you now.” 

“There’s no need-”

“Namjoon!” Yoongi shouted. As if they were listening in on the conversation, Namjoon immediately opened the door with a bow. 

“(y/n) here heard about the plum wine we make from the harvest of plums from your tree. She would like to try some. Fill a bottle for her to have now.” Yoongi said. Namjoon nodded and promptly exited the room. 

“I didn’t mean I needed to try it now, Yoongi. Geez.” You scoffed. Yoongi ignored your comment and continued eating. Namjoon returned with a small ceramic decanter. He bowed and knelt by the side of the table to fill the small cups with the plum wine. 

“Have some.” You said to Namjoon. Namjoon turned to Yoongi, who nodded his head in approval. 

“Thank you.” Namjoon bowed his head as you took the decanter to pour some into a new cup for him. The 3 of you clinked cups before taking a drink. It was sweet and fruity. 

“It’s so good!” You complimented. Namjoon couldn’t help but smile. 

“I’m happy you like it.” He laughed. When he was done, he bowed his head and exited the room. 

“What about you? Did you have a good... meeting?” You asked Yoongi slowly. Yoongi raised an eyebrow at you trying to start small talk with him but he shrugged, being vague with his answer. 

“Whether it was good or bad, I hope you feel happy or relieved that it’s at least over.” You smiled. Yoongi stopped and stared at you. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just thinking about something else.” He shook his head and continued eating. You blinked but shrugged and ate as well. Yoongi picked out the bigger pieces of boneless braised meat and placed it onto your plate, surprising you. You looked at the piece of meat as if it was a foreign substance and looked up at him. 

“You seem to always struggle to remove the bones. And you give the boneless meat to the other me. I’ll do the same for you.” He excused. You couldn’t help but laugh as Yoongi acknowledged the ‘other him’. 

“So you acknowledge that there’s another you somewhere out there?” 

“I never said I didn’t. You just don’t tell me much about him, how different or similar he is from me.” He said. 

“What do you want to know?” You asked. Obviously, both Yoongis were rather different but as you got to know the Yoongi in front of you, you do seem to find similarities every now and then. 

“What can you tell me about him?” 

“Hmm... I mean, you look exactly the same, you already know that. You’re both deathly pale and bear resemblance to cats. You both love tangerines and you’re both night people instead of day people. Not that big a fan of sweets...” You listed out. 

“I fail to see how I look like a cat.” Yoongi blinked. It took a long while for your Yoongi to come to terms with the whole ‘lil meow meow’ thing too. 

“Trust me. It’s there. Oh and you both squint like this when you’re focusing on something.” You giggled, mimicking him. 

“You’re finding too much amusement in this.” 

“I don’t think I know you well enough to tell the differences. But my Yoongi... When you first meet him, he just seems cold, guarded and introverted. Yes, he is introverted. But he’s not cold at all.” You said, swallowing your food. 

“He’s guarded because he had been wounded before by the rest of the world. And even when we got together, I realised that he just isn’t one to really show his feelings, or at least verbally. He shows his love and care through his actions. That’s what I liked about him. He was very comfortable to be around and he made me lower my guard too.” You smiled. 

“He sounds like a perfect human.” 

“He’s not, he’s far from it. I am the same. We’ve both come to realise it. Sure, we’ve had our fights and arguments but at the end of the day, we work it out. It takes two hands to clap, right?” You looked up at Yoongi.

“You miss him.” Yoongi stated. 

“Of course. Even before we were together, he was my safety blanket for years.” You said sadly, looking at your food. 

“When I’m sad, he makes me laugh or he cries with me. He worries for me, even when he should be worrying about himself.” Tears blurred your vision. Suddenly, you felt someone pull your head to a chest. 

Yoongi didn’t know what to say. Just like your Yoongi, he wasn’t good with words, he only knew how to show he cared with his actions. 

“Sorry, I digressed.” You said. 

“It’s okay.” Yoongi whispered, stroking the back of your head. He used the end of his sleeve to wipe your tears. Sitting back down, the two of you continued talking as you finished the food. You wanted to ask about Mirae but you knew it was a sensitive topic for Yoongi so you didn’t bring it up. 

“Later, can we walk in the garden?” You asked. 

“That excited about the garden?” Yoongi teased. You flushed, clearing your throat sheepishly. 

“Of course, we can. I can’t wait to see your hard work.” Yoongi finished. That made you feel even more embarrassed. It was like a child pestering her parent to see her artwork. 

“I heard the garden was your mother’s?” You gulped. Yoongi seemed to falter for a few seconds before straightening up. 

“It’s not hers but she did enjoy maintaining it. She worked very closely with the royal gardener to constantly upgrade it to be better. Kind of like what you did today.” Yoongi explained. You nodded your head slowly. 

“Keeping it alive and maintained now is the best I can do for her, even after her death. She would not be pleased with me letting all her hard work go to waste. I’m not really good with plants but I’m glad Namjoon and the gardener take care of it. And now you help maintain it too. My mother would have greatly appreciated that.” Yoongi said. 

“She sounds like an amazing woman.” 

“Hmm.” Yoongi hummed. You mentally scolded yourself, of all topics, why did you have to mention Yoongi’s mother? 

“I felt like I lost the opportunity to get to know her better. My father never let her care for me as a normal mother should. He wanted her to care for him only and that was her flaw, constantly kowtowing to him.” Yoongi continued. 

“I don’t think it’s a flaw.” You said. 

“It’s not a flaw to give up all free will and follow a man, who’s not even loyal to you, like a dog? That you neglect your kid?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow. 

“That’s what you saw, Yoongi. I’m not saying you’re wrong, you could be right but was that how she really felt? Did you ever know her true intentions behind her actions? Maybe she never meant for you to feel neglected. I’m sure you had moments with her where she showered you with love.” You said. 

“Yes, I had my moments with her. But they were always short lived because my father ruined it. Every time I tried to tell myself she actually loves me, she proves me wrong.” Yoongi’s fists shook. 

“What if she was protecting you?” You asked. 

CLANG! 

Yoongi stood up with such force that the low table of bowls and cutlery flipped over, spilling food remnants all over the floor. You stared at the mess in shock, looking up at Yoongi. He breathed heavily, standing over you. 

“Leave.” He warned. 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi. I shouldn’t have-” 

“I don’t want your apologies. I said leave.” His eyes flashed anger as he shook. You immediately scrambled to your feet and pulled the door open. 

“(y/n) nim!” Jimin rushed to you. They had all heard the loud clash but were too afraid of entering the room. You stared at Jimin, lips pressed into a firm line. Turning away from him, you ran to your room. 

“(y/n) nim!” Jimin ran after you, leaving Hoseok, Seokjin, Jungkook and Namjoon. Usually, you would have fought back or argued with him but seeing the resentment and anger in Yoongi’s eyes, you knew he was warning you to leave before his temper took over so you decided to make a break for it. You were actually afraid he would hurt you. 

“J-Jeonha-” The 4 that remained bowed but all they felt was the silk of their king’s robes brushing against them as he exited the dining room. 

“(y/n) nim.” Jimin stood outside your door, knocking softly. He could hear the soft echoes of your sobs. It was like everything was back to the way it was on day 1 when you arrived. 

“I-I just n-need to catch m-my b-breath.” You tried to sound okay to Jimin, who didn’t believe you one bit. 

“Can I come in?” He asked softly. 

“I’d r-rather you n-not.” You croaked from your dark corner in the room. Jimin sighed. He didn’t want to leave your side, he wanted to make sure that you weren’t hurt, he wanted to comfort you and stop your cries. However, he knew that he shouldn’t force you too.

“Please.” He tried for the last time. 

“Come.” Your voice was soft but he heard it. Slowly the door creaked open and Jimin came in to see your huddled figure. Immediately, he went to help you up and led you to the bed to lie down.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.” Jimin whispered. You shook your head, you didn’t want him to feel guilty.

“It’s not your fault. It’s all mine. I shouldn’t have pushed him.” You said.

“What happened?”

“I brought up his mother. And it just escalated too fast.” You explained, regret written all over your face. Jimin softened as your eyes casted down with guilt. He took a clean handkerchief from the cupboard and gently wipe your face of its tears. He didn’t interrupt you and instead continued to listen as you explained what happened in the room.

“Jeonha’s relationship with his mother was always a touchy subject for him. But you didn’t know that.” Jimin spoke. 

“But I knew he was getting angry and uncomfortable. And yet, I continued to question him and doubt his feelings, the feelings he had been bottling up since he was a child.” You said. 

“That’s one of the reasons he resents Taehyung gun.” Jimin explained. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You know how Taehyung gun’s mother is. She was bubbly, kind and loving to Taehyung. She didn’t care that he wasn’t crown prince, he was just her son to her. Jeonha hated seeing them together.” Jimin started. 

“Jeonha wasn’t wrong in a sense... They did share their moments, like I said, they would be in the garden together. But all it took was for the king to call her and she would just leave jeonha there to stay with him. To jeonha, who was just a child, that was betrayal. Countless times.” Jimin explained. 

“And all I did was doubt him.” 

“Not true. You were right too. Jeonha didn’t see the fear in his mother’s eyes. She did try to speak up but what good comes out of defying the king. The king who can hurt your child, the crown prince.” Jimin smiled sadly. 

“How do you know all this Jimin? Aren’t you about the same age as Yoongi?” You tilted your head. 

“My mother worked as one of the queen consort’s servants before me. She saw everything and comforted the queen consort when she was upset.” 

“So Yoongi’s mother was trying to protect Yoongi...” 

“Yes. The king was very obsessed with the queen consort. He didn’t want to let anyone else her, even his own child. Yes, he had a harem of concubines but he always kept her by his side and never wanted her away for too long. She was someone special to him and he wanted her to only look at him. He was willing to hurt anyone who took her away, jeonha included.” Jimin said. 

“Jeonha grew up hating his mother. But a part of him still held to the few memories he had of her. The garden, for example. His mother is also the reason jeonha doesn’t believe in love.” He continued.

“That’s horrible. He must have felt so much hurt and felt all alone.” You hung your head down. 

“But I think you staying by his side has changed him.” Jimin lifted your head up with his finger. You stared at him in confusion. He giggled and just wiped your remaining tears. 

“Let’s get you washed up.” He helped you stand up and led you to the bathroom. You brushed your teeth and he combed your hair, helping you change out of your hanbok and into sleepwear. 

“Wait, Jimin. What did you mean by-”

“Get some rest, (y/n) nim. I’ll see you when the sun rises.” He smiled softly after tucking you into bed. 

“Goodnight, Jimin.” You yawned. Jimin exited your room. He stared at your door for a few seconds before he finally was able to turn and walk away.

-

Yoongi stood in his garden, his anger was slowly starting to dissipate. He scoffed, this dinner was supposed to be relaxing and a chance for him to get to know more about where you come from, ending with the both of you taking a walk in the garden with you showing him your new plants and flowers proudly. 

But you just had to bring his mother up.

“You always ruin everything.” He said to no one in particular. Well, he was referencing his mother, who wasn’t even alive anymore. 

“Why does it always have to end up this way?” Yoongi was now asking himself. He clenched his fists as the resentment for his mother bubbled within him. 

However, what caused his anger to fade was that he couldn’t ignore the memory of your eyes and how much fear was in them. As if you were actually afraid that he was going to hurt you. 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi. I shouldn’t have-” 

You actually apologised to him. He had expected you to argue back or stand against him but all you did was back away with fear and leave as you are told. What was happening to him? There was a dull ache in his chest that was never there before. When you spoke of your Yoongi, why did a new determination to prove that he was the better Yoongi appear? 

Yoongi sighed for the nth time. He lifted his head and stared at your window, which was now closed. Were you asleep? Or were you crying? 

“I swear.” Yoongi cursed himself. He subconsciously started walking and now found himself standing before your door. Gently, he knocked but there was no reply. He quietly opened the door to see you asleep. 

“Yoongi...” You called in your sleep. 

“I’m here.” Yoongi whispered. He honestly didn’t know if you were calling him or the other Yoongi but he was going to assume it was him you were calling out to in your sleep. 

“Just let me...” He didn’t know what came over him but soon, Yoongi was in your bed, holding you close to him. 

“What?” Your eyes shot open in shock, ready to kick the intruder in your bed. But looking down, you saw the locks of blonde. His face pressed into your abdomen as he held you tightly. You felt his tears wetting your night robe and the skin beneath. 

“She told me she loved me. But she never came back.” 

“I’m sorry, Yoongi.” You said softly, running your fingers through his locks. Even though Yoongi was slowly letting his guard down around you, this was the first time he let all his walls down. 

“I’ll never hurt you.” Yoongi looked up at you, moving up so your eyes met at the same level. 

“I’ll never hurt you. I promise.” He repeated, cupping your cheek. 

“Please don’t be afraid of me. Please.” He cried. You still didn’t respond but you did wipe his tears, drawing his head to your chest as you comforted him. Now you really saw it. You saw Yoongi as a child that was hurt by the world and just wanted someone to be there for him and tell him that he is loved.

~~

Series Masterlist

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[normal-horoscopes]

DANTES INFERNO PUNISHMENTS RATED BY HOW MUCH THEY FIT THE CRIME:

lust - buffeted by eternal winds so the lustful will never find rest

This makes sense as a punishment for like, infidelity. Sexual assault goes to violence and things like pedophilia and incest go to treachery. 9/10 fitting punishment.

Gluttony - forced to wallow in an unending rain of filth

You succumbed to your base desires and chose material pleasure over compassion and charity! Stinky. Big stinky. 6/10 seems like you could be more creative.

Greed - Forced to joust with leaden weapons whose weight corresponds to your avarice in life.

That's it? Sure it's poetic but it seems like demons could come up with something better. Dante did write this in the glorious years before capitalism was invented so maybe greed was less of a problem then. What I'm saying is greed needs an upgrade. Gimme a meatpacking plant made of precious metals where demons can grind elon musk into sausage and blanche him in a river of molten gold. 2/10 earns points for the poetry.

Anger - Eternally treading water in the styx. The demons keep you so close together that you have to fight for space.

Now that's a fitting punishment! There's no drywall to punch here, only more swampy water to flail uselessly against. By isolating the angry from any useful contact, they only ever hurt themselves. Gorgeous. 10/10.

Heresey - buried in flaming tombs

And this isn't just saying the word goddamn. Heresey is reserved for people like the borgias. Heresey is a fun sin and I'm giving this one 7/10 on account of how priests being buried alive in flaming tombs is super fucking metal.

Violence (against people) - cast into the phlegethon, the infernal river of boiling blood.

Pain for pain. Also metal as hell. 7/10

Violence (against the self) - suicides are transformed into trees, their bodies hung from the branches.

Nobody really kills themself to get to heaven early anymore, but if it HAS to be a sin I'd say this is a fair punishment. Being a tree doesn't sound all that bad. 7/10.

Violence (against god) - forced to wander a burning desert for all eternity. Especially violent people are buried in the sand.

Poetic in its lack of drama. Holy wars are conducted with the promise of a righteous and valiant death. There is a justice to the lack of adrenaline here. I can think of nothing a zealous holy warrior would hate more than extreme discomfort mixed with boredom. 10/10

Fraud (panderers and seducers) - forced to march while a demon whips them

Hot. Also, being a golddigger isn't that bad. 4/10

Fraud (flatterers) - submerged in human excrement

Dante who hurt you. Did you get catfished? 1/10.

Fraud (simonacs, the selling of indulgences) - buried upside down in a pit of tar with the soles of the feet on fire.

There's some great poetry to the metaphor here but explaining it would require a paragraph about 13th century italian church politics so just trust me this is a solid 9/10

Fraud (astrologers and magicians) - have their heads twisted around backwards.

Man fuck you. That's not that bad though. I feel like I could learn to run backwards. Me and the other magicians could have goofy backwards races and have a laugh about how silly we look. 5/10.

Fraud (grafters, blackmailers, extortionists) - thrown into a pit of scalding tar, with demons constantly yanking them back inside with grappling hooks.

While there's probably some exceptions for just blackmail, I figure king minos makes exceptions. I like the clever metaphor about being constantly reeled back in. Not so fun is it dickheads? 9/10.

Fraud (hypocrites) - made to march wearing symbolic leaden monk robes.

Missed opportunity in my opinion. I feel like you could do something clever with the tongue? Maybe replace them with swords or make it swell up to where its hard to breathe, something along those lines? 3/10

Fraud (thieves) - some are transformed into snakes and others stay human. The reptiles can only become human by stealing a body, a painful process for both souls involved.

Man that is so fucking cool. 10/10.

Fraud (deceivers, those who give corrupt counsel) - just on fire forever. Whenever they talk fire comes out.

The fire tongue thing is super fitting but the eternal immolation just seems like a bit much. 6/10.

Fraud (scismatics, those who cause drama be it personal or political) - demons with swords chase you around forever and chop you up.

Really fun visual here. Like tom and jerry. The punishment is varied based on the trouble caused so this is for sure appropriate. 10/10

Fraud (falsifiers, counterfeiters, snake oilers) - afflicted with consumptive diseases to mirror their products rotting cores.

This is where antivaxxers go. 10/10.

Traitors (to their kindred) - frozen up to the shoulders in in lake cocytus. Allowed to bow their heads to shield partially from the cold.

Incest, familial abuse, neglect. Lake cocytus is the bottom of the world. The coldest place, furthest from the light and love of God. The damned here can only weep in their profound loneliness until eventually, their tears freeze their eyes shut, depriving them of what little light they were allowed. 10/10

Traitors (to their country) - frozen up to the neck, unable to turn their heads.

Those who would condemn the fate of nations to ruin, to cause the suffering of thousands, all for personal gain, are deprived of all motion, all agency. The only sensation is the bitter cold tearing at their faces. 10/10

Traitors (to their guests) - frozen with their faces to the sky so their tears freeze their eyes shut.

Those who would betray the ones they were given to protect wish to weep, but the action only increases their suffering. 9/10.

Traitors (to their lords, usurpers) - completely encased in ice.

Those who seek power only to wield it themselves. Betrayers of revolutions. The ultimate selfish act. The damned here are deprived of all sensation, condemned to a silent and lightless eternity. 10/10

Traitors (to god) - being chewed by satan forever. only available to judas iscariot people who assassinated julius caesar.

Metal as hell. 10/10.

[helliontherapscallion]

Sweet and Sour (Adrenaline Junkie Part 14)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of blood, talks of hypothetically dying, bones/teeth 

Word Count: 2,392

(A/N): the next part is currently in the works and probably will be out by tomorrow/late at night tonight 

The days ticked closer and closer until you had only mere hours left until your scheduled departure for the cave. With each passing day, you became more anxious and paranoid, your prosthetic wing constantly malfunctioning until you programmed it to respond solely to your conscious movement and not the random twitching of your muscles. It took you a bit to get used to, but you quickly got the hang of it. It felt closer to having an actual wing on your back again, but not exactly. Nothing beat the feeling of the wind resisting against both wings at the same time. 

You doubted if Philza knew anything, but you did know that he suspected something. He knew you like the back of his hand and vice versa. You both knew each other all too well, he raised you and you spent most of your time with him growing up after all. 

Currently, you are obsessively reading over your will and the book you wrote for Arthur full of redstoning advice and what you’ve learned over the years. After rereading your letters to your family and your will, you decided that this is exactly how you wanted everything to turn out if you ended up not surviving this. Which, the chances of you actually surviving this was slim to none. 

However, you remained hopeful as there were several unknown variables in the equation. How big this thing was, its age, and most importantly what the cave currently looked like. It’s been multiple years and there might’ve been more erosion over the years altering the surface of the stone. From what you remembered, the ceilings were at least a hundred feet tall, so you had plenty of room to hover above it when needed. You had no clue if the ledge was still there, but if it was the being most definitely could snatch you up. You were going to have to be careful. Besides, you had a son you had to live for. You were going to get out of there alive. For Arthur. For Philza. For Wilbur. For Tommy. For Technoblade.

You reread your plans. Plan A consisted of you sneaking in (making sure this time to keep your wings close to your body), planting TNT, and setting it off with a lever as far away from the deepest part of the cave as you could. Plan B, if Plan A failed and the Warden noticed your presence, was to use the portable TNT launcher while flying as high as you could. If that failed, then you were kind of screwed. Plan C consisted of dropping everything and running for your life. You’d admit, they weren’t the most well thought out plans, but it was all you could think of.

You made sure your wing was secured on your back correctly with a full movement test before you slung your bag onto your back stocked full of redstone and TNT and put your portable TNT launcher into the holster on your hip. 

You took a deep breath and gathered your papers before you took one last look at your old workshop. You made sure to scrub it clean of redstone residue and re-sorted the blueprints so that everything was easier to find in the filing cabinets. You were sure that your… unique method of not sorting anything and just knowing where everything was would be very annoying to attempt to sort through. Even Arthur couldn’t figure out your sorting system and he was the smartest kid you knew. 

Oh Arthur… He was probably sleeping right now. Or at least you hoped he would be; it was midnight. With light footing, you walked up the stairs to the second floor and straight to Wilbur’s old room. Your little boy was sleeping peacefully burrowed underneath the covers. You could hear his soft snores exiting his mouth. 

You smiled lightly and walked over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling back the covers to see his face. His mouth was parted slightly with a small amount of drool coming out of the corner of his mouth. You reached out to stroke his curly copper hair and smiled wider at the sight of his nose scrunching slightly before he relaxed with a small smile on his face. You leaned down to place a lingering kiss on his forehead before you covered him back up again and started to quietly walk out of the room. 

“Ren?” That was what he started calling you after he gave you the magnets. It was short for ‘parent’. You froze and felt your body warm up at his sleepy tone. You turned around and watched as he rubbed at his eye with the back of his hand and yawned. “Hey Artie, go back to sleep buddy.” You walked over to him and gently pushed him back into the pillows. He nodded and grabbed your sleeve. 

“Can you get me a glass of water please?” He sounded so out of it. “Of course, buddy.” You grabbed your bag and slung it back over your shoulder. You quietly went downstairs and filled up a glass with water. You sat it on the counter and pulled out your papers and the hefty book you had written from your bag. You spread them all out on the dining room table where Philza was sure to see it in the morning. You hopefully should be back before the time he usually woke up so you could just grab them and trash them when you get back.

Before you got back to Arthur’s room, you shed your bag and TNT launcher by the front door. You didn’t know if he saw them before, but he definitely didn’t need to see them now. Inside, Arthur was propped up on his chin desperately fighting against sleep. You walked over to him and gave him his water, scolding him lightly when he didn’t fully sit up so he wouldn’t choke. When he was satisfied, he put the water on the nightstand and laid back down. He looked up at you with sleep dazed eyes, “where are you going?”

You froze and sat on his bed, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.” He scrunched up his nose and stared at you in annoyance, “no you aren’t, you’re going somewhere.”

You stared at him before you sighed, “I’m just going… to get more redstone. I just need a bit more to finish what I’m working on. I won’t be gone for long, I promise.”

“Can- can you stay here? At least until I fall back asleep?”

“Of course, my little fledgling.”

He looked up at you timidly, “will you always be with me?”

You rubbed your hand up and down his arm soothingly, “I’ll never leave you. Even if I’m away, you’ll always have a piece of me with you,” you grabbed your feather he kept on his nightstand and handed it to him. It was one of your primary feathers you lost in one of your last molts in the house before you left for L’manberg that you found between your bed and your wall. It was an impressive size being about a foot long, but your wings have long since grown bigger alongside your body’s growth. You were about to throw it away one day after doing a deep clean of your old room, but the boy was amazed by the patterns and the size of the feather. So you, being the caring parent you were, gave it to him. Since then, you’ve found him on several instances holding the feather to his chest in his sleep. 

He took the feather and ran his fingers along the vane and stem. You could see him tearing up slightly, so you leaned down and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ll always be with you, my little fledgling.” You pulled back after placing a kiss on his forehead and ran your fingers through his curly mop of hair soothingly. You softly sang the song Philza would hum to you as a kid and watched as he drifted off to sleep. 

“Love you Ren,” he slurred out before he was completely out. You softly smiled at his sleeping form, “I love you too, Artie. I love you too.” You sat there for a bit absorbing his every facial feature and felt pride and warmth erupt within you. Arthur Fox was your son, your pride and joy. He certainly had a bright future ahead of him. Sighing, you remembered the task ahead of you. You needed to leave soon. 

Reluctantly, you left the room and started to make your way downstairs. “Did he have a nightmare?” A sleepy quiet voice asked from behind you. You jumped and whipped around with your hand flying to the empty holster on your hip before you relaxed seeing Philza there. He looked like he just crawled out of bed, his blond hair stuck up in multiple places and his blue eyes hazy. 

You put a hand over your heart, “Ender Dad don’t do that, you scared the shit outta me. But yeah, he had a nightmare but he’s fine now.” He tiredly hummed, walking over to you and pulling you into an unexpected hug. “You’re a good parent for him. I’m so proud of you for adapting to the responsibility that adopting a kid takes.” You hugged him back tightly and wrapped your wings around him, careful of keeping the metal one barely pressed against him. You both stood there in the middle of the hallway enjoying each other’s presence before you heard him yawn and felt him pull back. You retracted your wings and stepped back. 

“Why’re you still dressed?” 

Shit, “oh, I was just finishing up something in my workshop.”

He deadpanned at you, “you know how I feel about you staying up this late, even if you’re an adult-”

“‘Even if I’m an adult it’s not healthy to constantly stay up this late’ I know, Dad. I’m almost done, I’ll be in bed in like half an hour tops.” He stared at you for a bit before he nodded and started to walk back to his room, “alright, I trust you. I’m going back to bed and I want you to do the same in a bit. Goodnight, (y/n). Love ya.”

“Love you too, Dad.” You waited until you heard the bed creak before you went back downstairs. You grabbed your stuff before you quietly opened the door and checked to see if there were any mobs around. Luckily for you, the nearest mob was only a single 

enderman. With that, you spread your wings and took off into the clear night sky. The weather was perfect for flying. It would’ve been a pleasant night flight if it weren’t for the current circumstances gnawing and nagging at you in the forefront of your mind.

You lowered yourself to the ground upon getting closer to the cave’s entrance and glided into it landing a ways into the cave to avoid any mobs. The ores around you were plentiful, the occasional glimmering of redstone cutting through the darkness. Old burnt out torches hung from the walls was the only indicator that there were previously other people in the cave prior to now. You could only imagine how Arthur looked at the ores with amazement and curiosity. 

As you ventured deeper, you could feel anxiety gripping at your chest and remembered how innocently and naively you craved exploration two and a half years ago. You shuddered as you wondered if the beast still had your feathers and bones scattered about. The torch in your hands sent flickering light onto the dark cave walls casting all sorts of shadows. You pushed onwards through the inky depths of the cave. Deeper yet deeper you walked placing torches wherever you went. 

Eventually, you arrived at the wide opening of the cave. From where you stood, the opening of the cave was massive making you feel miniscule. Even if you were to fully expand your wings to the side, your seven and a half foot wingspan still wouldn’t come close to touching the sides of the opening. The torch in your hand hardly cut through the abyss of the cave, so you made quick work of placing them around the area so you had a clear view of your surroundings. 

The cave was as you remembered it, but if you looked close enough, there were plenty of stalactites and stalagmites that weren’t there before. You could see faint dark brown stains on the walls and floors in scattered places, the stains of the miners that did not come back. The stench of rot, mildew, and decay emanated from deep parts of the cave, becoming almost unbearable in certain points where you couldn’t find anything out of place. Occasionally, you found cracked and broken shards of bone around some of the bloodstains. You even found a tooth and clumps of auburn hair. You shuddered as you remembered how Arthur told you that Hugh had dark ginger hair.

You have only found one of your feathers so far. It was trapped between a fissure in the wall. Crusted old blood decorated and clumped together some parts of the vane. You moved on to examine different parts of the cave. Sculk blocks littered the floor randomly, the tentacles calmly moving about. Soft squelching noises sounded from them; if you held your torch close to one of them, a soft shine could be seen. It was probably slimey. 

If you stopped to listen past the crackling of the fire, you couldn’t hear anything. Besides a slight squelching noise that you suspected was from the sculk blocks and the sound of water droplets dripping, there was nothing. Good, you still could place the TNT. Plan A: commence. 

You made quick work of placing sticks of dynamite between the nooks and crannies of rocks firmly and scattered the TNT along the vast expanse of the cave. Connecting the redstone was tricky though with the amount of TNT placed, but you eventually got everything connected to one and made work of making a trail to the outside. Just as you got started on trailing the redstone towards the mouth of the cave a few hundred feet away, the torches started to flicker. 

It’s here.

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam  @bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash4  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @lestrangenymph  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado  @wing-non  @lovely-echoo  @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual  @mysteryartisticwriter  @momo-has-a-gun  @misfortunatem00n  @w-0-r-n-n  @v-kouya  @kusuinko  @cheybaee  @dulcedippers  @jaciahbabes  @prlan  @hummingbird-lightningstrike  @pog-sad-muffin  @prickypearpropaganda

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch  @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound  @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur  @nottheotheruser  @ohworm-writes  @localwolfanon  @realitycanbeajerk  @v10dw4lk3r

[fangirlfics]

Trouble Sleeping (Loki x reader)

I swear if this deletes for a third time Im gonna cry 

KINDA A SLOW BURN BOIS

also I didn’t finish reading it over for mistakes bc I’m lazy 

summary: y/n and Loki used to be very close friends and sometimes when she had bad nightmares he’d use his magic to calm her mind, a few years have passed and they’ve grown apart. Her nightmares come back and hesitantly she seeks Loki’s help again 

word count: 3,592 wahahahaha

y/n leaned over one of the balconies that overlooked the kingdom’s private garden. The weather was perfect, the temperature ideal, sky blue, and the plants were all thriving feet below her. Despite the scenery however y/n’s attention was fixated elsewhere. 

Down in the depths of the garden, propped up on one of the fancy golden benches was the youngest Asgardian prince-Loki. His dark raven hair was combed back as he turned to the next page in his novel, the cover matching the shade of green displayed on his clothes. y/n couldn’t help but sigh as she watched the handsome prince, they had once had an unbreakable bond. It was always Loki and y/n-best friends, one wouldn’t be seen without the other. But somewhere among their late teenage years, Loki had become more cold and distant towards y/n-leaving her alone in the giant halls of the castle to wander alone. That’s when her and Thor’s relationship grew stronger-she had always been friends with the God of Thunder but after her and Loki’s relationship crumbled to pieces he was there to cheer her up. 

“Oh there you are!” Thor’s voice boomed-pulling y/n from her daydream. y/n glanced once more at Loki before turning her attention to her tall friend. “I was looking for you!” He beamed. 

“What can I do for you, your highness?” y/n asked with a playful voice.

Thor smiled, putting his hands together before continuing, “I was hoping that you would join me and-” his words faded as he glanced down to the gardens and caught sight of Loki. y/n’s attention soon turned to the railing in front of her as she traced her fingers along it’s smooth surface. “You still watch him.” Thor told her, his normally enthusiastic voice was now dry and serious. “How long have you been thinking of him?”

y/n furrowed her eyebrows, playing with her fingers. “I never stopped.” She confessed, “I know it’s foolish but I can’t help it, I..miss him more than I can even begin to explain.”

Thor was silent as he watched the girl glance back down at the gardens then to the sky. “Let’s go...horseback riding.” He suggested, getting y/n attention. “To lift your spirits, we can go with Sif a-”

“No.“ y/n blurted out, “nobody else-I don’t want to embarrass myself again by falling off my horse.“

Thor chuckled, “nobody is going to think low of you-” he looked at y/n once more sensing her silent plea ”very well then, just us.” He agreed, making her smile.

“Thank you.” She laughed, giving him a hug. It caught Thor by surprise but he then loosely wrapped his arms around y/n in return. “Thank you for everything,” y/n whispered, “really, I don’t know what’d I’d do without you. I’m blessed to have a friend like you.”

“Of course.” 

Neither of the two friends noticed that down in the gardens Loki clenched his jaw, snapping his book shut and silently retreated to his room-they also didn’t notice the pair of blue eyes staring through the window at them, when they returned laughing on horseback. 

_____________________________________________________________

 There was fire everywhere, thick black smoke made it impossible for her to breath. She was choking-desperate for air. She fell to the ground as the fire closed in quickly-it’s heat trapping her in the room. There was no hope, no help was coming and it was impossible to escape, with a loud crack the ceiling caved in leaving her trapped screaming out as the furious flames burned her alive. 

y/n woke up with a start, beads of sweat lined her forehead although her room was cool and she found that her hands were shaking. Realizing it was just a dream she lied back down, covering her face with her hands as she tried desperately to fall back asleep. She got no more sleep that night.

The same thing happened again in the coming days and three days later while in training, y/n who was running on less than four hours of sleep was doing rather well. In one quick movement she jumped up-kicking the sword right out of Fandral’s grip. 

“Very good!” Volstagg commented from across the room.

“Yes.” Fandral agreed, “show me that move and I’ll show you some of mine.” He winked.

“Just give me a time and place.” y/n responded playfully, earning a laugh. 

“Impressive.” Fandral commented at her response. (she normally responded to his joke flirting with an eye roll) 

“Yes impressive.” Loki commented from behind Fandral. “That y/n can apparently chase after two men at once.” He said this while staring casually at Thor. Sif went stiff inder the tension and Thor opened his mouth but y/n spoke first.

“I’m sorry?” 

��Well by the looks of it, you can’t seem to decide between Thor and-” 

“Brother that’s enough.” Thor warned, taking a step forward.

“I’m just putting out a warning, you do know what they say about these sort of things.” Loki remarked, not meeting her eyes.

“You know full well that I am not chasing after anyone.” y/n said, growing aggravated. 

“It sure seems that way.”He then opened the door to the room and left.

“You know what?” y/n responded, dropping her sword to the ground with a loud clang “I am tired of this.”

 “y/n I think it best if you ignore him.” Sif spoke up, “nobody is accusing you of anything, we all know you aren’t that sort of person-”

“Thank you Sif, but I am not taking this.“ y/n exited the room in pursuit of Loki, who was a few paces ahead of her walking calmly. 

“I don’t like being followed.“ He simply called out to her, because his room was only about a minute walk away from the training room he reached it fairly quickly.

“What is your problem?“ y/n asked him, putting her foot in between the door and it’s frame as Loki was about to shut it.

“I don’t have a problem, now if you’d excuse me I’d like you to leave me alone.“ 

 “Then leave me alone.” She huffed, “hold your silvertongue and stop acting as if you’re above me because you’re not.”

“Is that all?“ He asked her calmly, “you’re done with your childish tantrum?” 

“Oh you are so-“ y/n narrowed her eyes.

“So what?“ Loki asked with an eye roll.

“Terrible.“ y/n blurted, earning a cold laugh from the God of Mischief.

“So I’ve been told.“ He stated bored.

“No, I mean you’re really terrible and for so many reasons.”

“Such as?“  

“You want a list?“ y/n asked with a bitter laugh, “ok well you think you’re better than everyone and you’re not, you poke fun at other people because it’s amusing to you and-and everyone-I mean everyone thinks that you’re a snake, ever since we were younger, and I can’t believe I’m just now realizing that..they’re probably right.“ He swallowed hard furrowing his eyebrows, “you used to be my best friend Loki, I’d defend you from people’s accusations when you weren’t around and..I wasted my time because you are everything people say you are and worst.“ She saw the look in his eye, she hurt him-good now he understood how it felt. 

Loki glanced away-looking down at the girl again. “Is that all?” He asked, trying desperately to remain collected. y/n scoffed. “You may think you know me but I know you much more, don’t forget, I’ve been inside your head. People may think I’m a bad person but I can live with that, you on the other hand can’t stand the fact that someone might not like you, so much so that you’ll break down about it. You’re a weak fighter, you’re not as clever or as witty as you seem to think, and frankly I don’t understand the fascination Thor seems to have with you, you’re nothing special.”  

y/n pulled her foot from the doorway. What happened to us? She was about to cry and she did not want him seeing that. “Is that all?” She asked, reciting his previous question.

“Yes.“ He spat coldly. 

“Good.“ She turned to walk away as Loki stayed in his place trying to keep the impression that he didn’t care.

Late at night y/n tossed and turned in her bed, trying to fall asleep after waking up from a particularly realistic dream-she had thought that by laying still she’d trick her body into falling asleep but that didn’t happen. She knew that she had been able to power through the last few days with almost no sleep-but she’d certainly crash if she didn’t get any sleep soon. The thought of making a visit to Loki for help came to her mind, but she really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she wanted/needed his help. Screw it. She thought after another couple of hours, her clock read 2:35 as she swung her legs over her bed and slipped on her slippers and robe. 

The halls were dark and empty except for the occasional guards, which she was careful to avoid (she didn’t want to raise any suspicion). Thank God her room was only a three minute walk from Loki’s. It was once she was already in front of Loki’s door that she started getting second thoughts, but she was there already and the worst that could happen was getting the door slammed in her face or no answer. She raised her cold knuckle, letting it hover over the door’s fine wood before knocking. “It’s y/n..” She announced barely above a whisper, “trust me I really don’t want to ask for your help but I see no other option an-”

The door opened a small crack. “you do realize what time it is, right?” Loki’s annoyed voice asked-he didn’t sound like he had just woken up, maybe he was having trouble sleeping also.

“I know.” At her response Loki opened the door wider, revealing himself in a pair of emerald colored pajamas. “Look I know-” at the sound of approaching footsteps (guards) Loki stepped aside, giving her a cue to get in. She did, turning to face him one he closed the door again-his back facing the door he put his hands on his hips.

“What do you want?”

“I can’t sleep.” She said sheepishly, “I just-I’m getting the same nightmares again and I thought that maybe just this once you could, you know..” She put hands up, wiggling her fingers to imitate magic.

Loki rolled his eyes, “first off that’s not at all how magic looks, second why should I help you?”

“Just this once!“ y/n practically begged, “please. I’ve have not been sleeping at all I just need one hour. I won’t make you sleep on my couch like I did when we were younger, you can just...alter my thoughts or something and I’ll leave and-” 

“Fine.“ Loki agreed, grumpily. He walked back over to his bed, getting in between the covers on the left side. “Well?“ He asked when she stared blankly at him. He rolled his eyes again, “Obviously if you go back to your room I won’t be able to sense when I have to alter your thoughts and you’ll just come back to make a racket when you have another nightmare.“ y/n nodded slowly, making her way to the right side of the bed. “Besides it’s a big bed, just stay on that side-away from me.” She laid down, hesitant at first as she tightened her robe around herself. Loki leaned over, placing a finger and thumb over her temples to enter her mind. 

When she woke up she was in the same exact position that she was in when she went to bed and Loki was standing directly above her looking annoyed once again. It was still dark outside as he looked down at her from where he stood. “It’s about time, I’ve been trying to wake you up for the last two minutes.”

“What time is it?“

“6:05..the castles about to start waking up, you should leave before more people get uo to avoid being seen.“ y/n nodded in agreement. 

“Ok“ she walked to his door, turning to watch as he laid back down in his bed. “And Loki..“

“What?“ He sighed.

“Thank you.“ She said softly, leaving the room right after. Loki was left surprised.

“Look I know I said just once-” y/n whispered that night outside of Loki’s door, it was past 2 a.m. again, but surprisingly Loki let her in again.

“The faster you stop pestering me, the better.“ Loki told her harshly. He had woken her up at 6 a.m. again like he had done the the last time. The time after that Loki woke her up at 7 and the time after that she had woken up past 8 to see Loki sitting in a chair some feet from her sharpening his knives-when she had asked him why he hadn’t woken her up he had simply reminded that he could just teleport her back to her room, that way nobody would know she had spent the night there.

Flash forward a month later, y/n tiptoed to Loki’s room in her nightgown again, the nights were getting hotter which had led to her to leave her robe behind. When she had reached Loki’s room she didn’t need to knock, since he now left it unlocked for her. 

Once she laid down on the right side of the bed (more towards the middle now rather than all the way on the edge) Loki laid down about a foot from her. They didn’t go to bed right then however, since they had formed a habit of talking before falling asleep. “Have you been sleeping better?” Loki asked the girl beside him.

“yes.” 

“Good...”

y/n rolled onto her side to face Loki, “Thank you again.” He nodded. “You know for someone who hates me, you’re actually quite kind to me.” The corner of Loki’s mouth folded up slightly,

“I don’t hate you...” He rolled over onto his side to face her, “but what I do hate-“ he then had explained the entire plot of a book just to express his hatred for one detail in it. 

y/n woke up in the middle of the night with a start, her nightmares had came back. As it turned out Loki wasn’t in the room but when he got back with a glass of water he noticed she was off right away. “I’m sorry.” He quickly apologized, sitting beside her, “I was just-I didn’t think-”   

“I know, it’s fine.“ y/n told him, but his hand was still on her shoulder and his blue eyes still held worry in them. “I’m just-I’m going back to bed...“ Loki nodded, watching as she laid down again. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?“ She nodded.

As she began drifting off she felt Loki take her hand in his. Later on in the night y/n woke up randomly, but she wasn’t facing Loki anymore-instead she was facing his dim window, she felt warm but not from the covers and to her surprise she realized that the prince’s arm was around her waist, keeping her close. Their legs were tangled mess at the bottom of the bed and she could hear his slow breathing as he slept peacefully. She looked around slowly, trying to figure out a way to move away to avoid the embarrassment when he wakes up-but just as she began to shift around she heard him speak up. “What time is it?” up. 

“Sorry...” She apologized growing red, “I don’t know how-“  

“It’s fine.“ She heard Loki whisper. 

“It is?“

“This is quite comfortable.“ He whispered again, then he moved slightly closer-resting his head on her shoulder and he fell asleep again-she assumed that he was half awake and didn’t fully process what had happened. She decided it didn’t matter and fell asleep again, after all he wasn’t wrong-it was comfortable.  

There was a loud noise that woke y/n right up, making her jump. Now she realized that she was facing Loki again, her arms were wrapped around his neck like in a hug, his head was nuzzled in the crook of her neck-their legs still a tangled mess. Bang! Bang! There it was again, she lifted her head, looking towards the door as it came again-bang! Bang! 

“Loki” She whispered, gently shaking his sleeping form. He ignored it, pulling her closer in response instead. “Loki, someone’s at the door.” She whispered, trying not to laugh. He sighed looking up towards his door.

“Just ignore it, they’ll go away it’s probably a servant or-”

“Loki!” Thor’s voice came from the other side of the door, “Loki, I know you’re in there! Open the door.” Loki rolled his eyes, standing up to make his way towards the door. 

He opened the door a few inches, “what do you want?” He hissed.

“I-” Thor paused, “are wearing your nightwear?”

“Why is that of any importance-what do you want?”

“er, Loki is there someone in there with you?“ Thor asked. 

y/n held her breath, afraid that somehow Thor would hear her from the doorway. “I-no!” Loki snapped, “What are you talking about?”

“Alright, alright I apologize. I’m here to ask if you have seen y/n? I’ve been searching for her, she’s normally turned up somewhere at this time it’s past 10.” 

“No I don’t know where she is, I haven’t seen her. Check the garden, she’s most likely wandering around there.“ He shut the door, turning back to y/n. 

“Past 10?“ y/n asked, covering her mouth, “I should’ve been awake two hours ago.” Loki shrugged. “Can you teleport me back to my room, I should go to the gardens since Thor’s looking for me.” Loki looked at the ground with an unfamiliar look in his eyes before nodding. “Thank you.”

The girl had spent more time with Thor training than she had expected that day, leading her to take an extra long shower at night to get clean. She hadn’t realized until she looked at her clock that it was past 10-normally she’d already be at Loki’s room by now. Quickly she dried her hair and changed into her nightwear. 

She was about to leave and opened her door and unexpectedly Loki was there with his hand raised looking like he was about to knock. They stared at each other for a moment before she spoke up, “Loki? What are you doing here?” 

He glanced to the side, not wanting to meet here eyes as she awaited his response, “I thought..” he said glancing at the ground before back to her, regaining his composure “that you-“

“Weren’t coming?“ She finished for him, he nodded.

“So I came to see if you were ok, I’ll leave.“

“Wait, no.“ She told him, grabbing his wrist and taking him by surprise, “I was just coming it was just taking me longer, but you can sleep here if you want since you’re already here...?” He nodded in agreement, stepping into her room.

He settled himself into the bed, opening his arms for her to crawl into which she quickly did. The two laid there for a moment, listening to the quietness as Loki slowly brushed through her hair with his fingers.      

“remember the other day when I said that you were terrible?“ y/n suddenly asked, getting Loki’s attention. He stopped running his fingers through her hair. 

“Yes, why do you ask?“ He responded cautiously. 

“I was just mad at you. I’m sorry.“

He took a moment to think to himself, “I didn’t mean what I said either."

“Can I ask you something?” y/n asked after a while later.

“What?”

“Why did you push me away?” She asked, shifting herself to meet his eyes.

Loki sighed-only it wasn’t from being aggravated this time. He backed up a few inches from y/n-staring straight up at the ceiling. “It’s because..”

“Because what?”

“I had noticed that you and Thor were becoming closer and decided to..abandon you before you did me. I thought it’d hurt less that way.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, everyone always seems to choose Thor over me, I just assumed you would, in time, do the same.“ He confessed, still not meeting her gaze. 

“Loki...“ she set her hand on his shoulder waiting for him to look at her. “I would never abandon you for Thor, sure Thor is my friend but so is Fandral, so is Volstagg, so is Sif and I’m not abandoning anyone for them.“

He nodded.

“And tonight..“ y/n spoke up again, “when you thought I wasn’t coming-“

“I assumed you wouldn’t need me anymore, especially after you had spent so much time with Thor.“

“Loki!“

“What?“

“Don’t be like that!“ y/n told him, sitting up, “I do need you! I’ll always need you, I need you don’ t doubt that, and not just because of stupid nightmares, because I care for you and I love you, ok?”

Loki smiled to himself, “you love me?“

“Yes you stupid-“ she stopped talking because Loki had leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss, taking no time to hesitate she leaned into him further deepening the kiss. After about a minute they pulled apart-resting their foreheads together. 

“I love you too.“

[staripheral]

➺ 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 1 & 2 𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙍 𝙎/𝙊 𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝘼 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙍𝙊𝙍

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 : 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙘-𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙧, 𝙝𝙮𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

★ JONATHAN J. would wake to the slightest of movements, the quietest of whimpers, and to the tiniest of tremors raking through your body as you were squeezed to his muscular side.  He was an extremely light sleeper, something he naturally acquired to remain vigilant (because a certain adopted son of the Joestar Family surely had it out for him).  Immediately, his eyes blinked open and he moved onto his side, cooing gently into your ear and rubbing slow circles with his calloused fingers on your hip.  While he had hoped to simply coax your dreams into something more delightful, you awoke with a loud gasp after a few moments of experiencing his earnest touch.  You hesitantly turned your head towards his large figure in bed and felt the tears trickle from the corners of your eyes; you could see the pain in Jonathan’s eyes as well as his own features contort to express his discomfort of seeing you in such an agonized state.

“My love, please… tell me what troubles you?” He pressed a tender kiss to the crown of your head and brought up his palm to feel the skin of your complexion, carefully brushing away the several tears you could not find within yourself to hold in.

“J-Jojo… Oh, Jonathan, it was horrible!  You-- You were murdered, and I was forced t-to watch the life drain from your eyes and--” Jonathan’s brows furrowed further, witnessing your pain: your damp cheeks, red eyes, and uneven breaths.  He pressed himself further towards your shaking body underneath the silky sheets, and removed his hand from the side of your face only to replace it behind your head and press your face into his bare chest.

“How I hate to see you so upset, my love… But, know this.  I will never leave your side, not even for an instant.  My soul is bound to yours as yours is to mine.  Never shall I part from you, in life or death, and I do not plan on leaving you alone in this lifetime, my love.  I am positive I am to remain by your side for the rest of eternity… and no man, woman, or enemy could ever remove my promise to you, ⌜f/n⌟.” His kind words only made your tears flow stronger, and he panicked for a moment, wondering if he had been out of place to say such things.  But, when he felt your wails begin to even out into soft, short breaths and your trembling vanished, leaving your body moving with every inhale and exhale, and eventually your tears came to a stop, he found he could relax at last seeing as you were not in torment any longer.  “Sleep well, my love.”

He pressed a kiss unto your lips and pulled away with your hand in his, holding both atop his broad chest.  Goodness, what he wouldn’t do to ease the pain of the one he loved most.

★ DIO B. had not been in your presence the moment you had been awoken from your night terror.  Your hands would not stop shaking as they gripped the sheets and pulled them off your damp body and you found that you barely had the strength to move your feet to plant themselves atop the soft rug by your bedside.  You stood up, having to bring a hand to the footboard to support yourself, and a hand to your mouth to stifle an oncoming sob.  There was only one person you trusted yourself with in this kind of state, but he was nowhere to be seen-- at least, not yet.

You wrapped your arms around your torso in an attempt to comfort yourself and your voice echoed through the Joestar Mansion, searching for your beloved.  Eventually, you heard his voice call out to you and you ran (or, at least walked as fast as you could) towards its source; the den area.

The door was cracked open just a sliver and you gazed inside, spotting Dio on the loveseat, reading a novel in the dead of night by himself.  You squeezed through the entrance and closed the door as delicately as you could.

“And what is it that would require my utmost attention in the midst of the night, my dear ⌜f/n⌟?” Dio questioned, not even looking up from the place he was in his book, although you could tell you had his ears open for you, as he had not turned another page in his book.

“...Dio.  It is nothing… I-I just wanted to keep you company.” You whispered, coming around the side of the loveseat and remaining at his side, giving him space to himself, but also being close enough that you were able to feel his warmth from afar as well.  You feared he would push you and your stupidity aside, calling you out for allowing yourself to be overcome by your fears.  Although he was soft for you, you knew he still had his own limits, which you deeply respected.

Dio looked over at you slyly, his usual smirk gone and his eyes narrowed in suspicion.  “After seeing you sound asleep in our chambers, I’m not quite so sure that you could have awoken just for a bit of attention, hm?  What dreams plague you this late?”

You sighed.  Nothing gets past his watchful, crimson eyes.  As you wiped the tears from your eyes, you began to recount the atrocious visions that haunted you; that of death, destruction, and deceit.  Dio nodded thoughtfully, having put down his book, but still staring into the flames of the pit before him.  You wrung your hands harshly, trying to quell your emotions as best you could.

He suddenly took your right hand in his and pulled you towards him so that your back lay against his chest and he picked his book up once again.  “Perhaps you would like to read this with me, to get your mind off of the foolish fantasies you dream of?  After all, how can anything harm you if you are here in my company.” He said, mocking you slightly.

If he were being honest with himself, Dio would admit that this situation made him uncomfortable, almost out of place.  But when he felt your head slightly nod against him, he found himself reading aloud, the only thing he could do (or at least knew what to do at that moment) to provide you comfort in that very moment.

As he read chapters upon chapters, with his deep, rich voice running dry, Dio felt your figure cease its subtle movements and slump into another deep slumber.  He carefully slid out from underneath you and kneeled beside the loveseat, tucking his toned arms underneath the back of your knees and the length of your shoulders and lifting your limp body into his arms, carrying you back to your chambers, where he intended to join and guard you from any more dreams that wished to terrorize your good-natured soul.  

“Don’t believe in such trivial fantasies, my dear.  I would never allow for us to part.  Even fate itself will not be enough to divide us.  Sleep well, dearest.”

★ JOSEPH J. was a very, very deep sleeper.  No man alive could devise a wake up call loud or obnoxious enough to make him arise from his sleep.  But… a woman such as yourself happened to find out what woke him up on the day that you experienced a terrifying dream.  You had tossed and turned, cried out and begged for help, yet no one had come to rescue your pitiful self.  You awoke with a start, your figure flying up from its position in bed.  Joseph’s heavy arm that had once lay across your waist had been tossed to the side, and his eyelids remained closed while his snores filled the quiet room.  You clutched your chest in an attempt to control your breathing, tears dripping down onto the covers of your bed as you tried to maintain composure.  You had to leave the bedroom, and fast, lest you feel even more suffocated than before.

The loss of your presence woke up the goofster.  There was no heat, no mass weighing down the bed in the space next to him; you were gone.  That was his motivation to open his eyes and look at the time by the clock beside him.  2:31 AM.  The horror.  

Joseph knew he would not be able to sleep without you by his side, so he begrudgingly sat up and exited the bedroom, rubbing his tired eyes and groaning at his sore muscles.  His bare feet padded against the floor, making a loud entrance into the kitchen, so loud that he had not even heard your quiet, muffled sobs as you sat on the floor, back pressed against the cabinets with your face buried in your hands.

His eyes softened.  He grew quiet.  He was never quiet.  You were scared to even look up at him.  Was he upset?  Was this another trick of your mind?  You were so lost, so confused, shaking so violently in your nightgown that you became so sure that this was real.  Your gaze finally moved upwards to look at Joseph, who had approached you with soft, saddened eyes as he kneeled before you.

“Jo,” --you hiccupped-- “Jo… I-I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” You attempted to wipe the tears away vigorously, poorly covering up your terrified state.  Joseph, the ever-observant man that he is, knew better than to fall for your words.  You were so scared.  He could practically feel the fear radiating from your body as his fingers extended to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and cup his palm against the side of your neck.  “Joseph?”  You asked timidly, as he remained silent and reached your hands out to touch his face.

However, you were the priority in Joseph’s mind, and in no way would he let you suffer as he often found himself after troublesome nights, especially when you were always there for him in his times of need. Instead, he moved his hands to grip your sides and smoothly lifted you to sit atop the countertop, leaving you squeaking in surprise.  This side of Joseph was so unfamiliar to you… yet you loved it all the same. 

His hands tenderly smoothed up and down your sides before engulfing you in an embrace.  He wordlessly connected his lips to your temple, holding them there for what seemed like forever until he finally felt the sobs rack your body, your pain being released into the air.  Joseph’s teeth clenched as you gripped his shirt in your dainty hands, cries filling his unusual silence as he let you rid yourself of the suffering you were experiencing.  He only moved to either smooth the back of your hair by running his fingers through it idly, or to press the lightest of kisses to your temple, so that you knew he was there, that he would not judge, and that he would always protect you from the bad, even from within, until you fell asleep, peacefully breathing against his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his neck.

Joseph was a chatty, intolerable brat at times… but he always, always wished to bring you the kind of serenity you’d introduced into his life.  And he realized that sometimes, just by being at your side he was able to help rid yourself of the demons that lived inside of you, as you had saved him from the demons that once lurked within him.

★ CAESAR Z. woke to your piercing shriek sounding out in the middle of the night.  He moaned something incoherently to his amore as his eyes desperately tried to open, only fully widening as he felt a petite hand shake against the bulk of his bicep.  “C-Caesar, please wake up!”

He sprung up into a seated position to look at you, his frazzled partner.  His head whipped back and forth for signs of any potential danger.  When he found nothing strange, his head turned back to you to figure out what was wrong.  Your lips wobbled, your eyes producing streams of endless tears, and your hand shook as you gripped his arm again.  “Y-You’re alive!?”

“Of course I am alive, tesora, what made you believe I wasn’t?” He questioned, gingerly taking your face in his hands, bringing his forehead to yours, and furrowing his eyebrows in curiosity.  “Did you have a night terror, ⌜f/n⌟?”

Your waterworks were the only response he required to answer that question.  As he wiped away your tears and nuzzled impossibly closer to you, your own hands clutched at his sides, as to ascertain for themselves whether he was reality or some sort of dream.

“Oh, tesora, please do not cry.  I promise you, I am real.  Do you feel my hands on your face?”  You nodded, the air around you feeling a lot thinner than it did before.  You began to wail in a panicked state.  “Shh… It is alright.  My lips, right here, “--he kissed your left eyelid--”and here,”--then pressed another to your right eyelid--”are real.”  His hands began to peel away from your cheeks before you desperately tried to grab at them.  He could tell you were so scared, so vulnerable and afraid of losing him, as he was of losing you.  “Amore-- I’m here.  You can touch me, I won’t disappear.  I will not vanish.  My place is here, loving you forever.  I am not dead, nor will I be anytime soon.  Oh, don’t cry… please breathe with me.”

His continued coos of affection, his whispered words of encouragement, and his gentle touches provided you comfort in due time.  His words were laced with a velvety, relaxing tone that surely would’ve put you to bed much sooner had you not been so frantic in your state of mind.

“I’m so sorry, Caesar… I’m so sorry for waking you up and bothering you with my mindless nonsense.” You spoke quietly, forehead still pressed to his as you laid down next to one another for the second time that night.  He shook his head immediately, his bangs tickling the skin of your forehead.

“Don’t ever apologize… You were scared, and not over something such as ‘mindless nonsense’.  I want you to reach out for me, to find solace in me, tesora.  I want to cure you of your fear.  I want to save you from your darkest thoughts.  You mustn’t be sorry, tesora, for everything that has happened does not bother me in the slightest…  I adore you, ⌜f/n⌟ .” He spoke calmly, slowly so that his words would lull you into sleep, hopefully this time blessed with happiness.

Caesar smiled as you snuggled in close and thanked him for everything.  He did not say anything in return and made sure you were comfortable before shutting his eyes once more.  ‘No,’ He thought to himself.  ‘Thank you, tesora, for giving me everything.’

𝙖/𝙣 : 𝘰𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘪 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.  𝘪'𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘮𝘦 :')) 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩!!  𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘦, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵!  𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 <3

[minshookie]

Meetings at midnight.

Pairing | mafia!Taehyung x Reader

Genre | angst, yandere

Summary | “after your failed attempt at escape Taehyung can’t afford to leave you alone anymore.”

!warning! | dark themes, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship ideals, talk of past abuse, sexual tension[18+ please],mental issues(manipulation) and strong language.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words:1k

A/N “ I hope this is something you’ll enjoy, all in all I just hope it isn’t disappointing haha. This is my first piece in a while so I’m a bit rusty, so go easy on me i beg. :)”

Racing quicker than lightning, intrusive thoughts paced your mind. At the moment taking your chances of tumbling from the car seemed sweeter than the kiss he left on your lips this morning. The taste of him, the feel of his softened palm on your inner thigh, the savory tone of his voice. It all made your stomach churn all too well. He softly hums the relaxed jazz tune that's spilling from the car, grabbing fistfuls of your exposed tender thigh. Not caring for the lasting blemishes he's leaving in its wake. Leaving you home alone no longer an option after your futile attempt at escape, the grim punishment after leaving you more dead than alive. You find yourself in his passenger, nearing an unknown fate.

“Of all the things I prepared for you-” he cuts himself short, pausing his assault on your leg to lower the music before resuming his position. “You chose the whorish white skirt I practically hid In the back of the wardrobe.” He chuckles to himself, taking his lip between his teeth. Pleased with his harsh comment he soon feels bad, “ I love you anyway, I can’t keep off of you.” Bringing your limp hand to his lips kissing it tenderly. Going back to kneading your sore inner thigh.

You’d actually begun the tedious search for this skirt he’d gifted to you the moment he informed you of the small meeting he wanted you to attend. Wearing it leaves little to The imagination,displaying bruise after bruise. Red flags dancing in the wind to any individual in possession of common sense. It might be wishful thinking but you gladly agreed to attend in the hopes of being rescued from your own personal damnation...

In the dead of night, he raced through empty streets finally meeting his destination, a place unknown to you. Clearing his throat harshly, you felt his eyes linger on you, refusing to give in, your gaze lingered on the house’s landscape. “When we walk in, don’t speak. I'll speak for you, keep your hand In my pocket, understand?” Coyly you turned, a chill rolling down your back meeting his dark eyes under the low beam of light being given by street lamps. “Understood...fully.” You softly respond.Boyishly he grins, giddily he exits the car coming to your side freeing you. Standing to the side he roughly shuts the door.

Standing in front, taking a hold of your wrist, he plants it in the back pocket of his slacks firmly. Domantly he leads you to the entrance, tugging you along like a wounded puppy. Your heart flutters with excitement at the thought of freedom,silently you pray for your scheme to work.

Unlocking the door he finally leads you in, “your eyes, close them, now .” He places his key away. His demeanor shifts harshly, being accustomed to this tone you wholeheartedly comply to his strange request. Trusting his lead, he takes you through twists and turns up the stairs carefully and through doors of the large home. Finally your feet meet a stop. A door is opened, multiple voices are heard then hushed. “Hyung!” Cheerfully a voice greets him. “Open now.” Shyly you do as told, opening to six men all huddled around, all peering at you, some in disapproval . From their glare alone you know your plan had blown into smoke. “This is Y/N.” He moves slightly, showing you off the best he could.

Truly unable to focus, you shift eye contact with all of them, “are you not going to speak?” The one standing in the middle spoke up, he held a stern facial expression keeping strong eye contact. You could tell his intention was to make you feel small, and it was working all too well. You cowered behind Taehyung, you were obviously out of place, obviously unwanted company. “Ah she’s being a good girl tonight, I told her not to speak.” He turns with a smile, pulling your arm to move you fully into sight. Denying his action you grab harshly into his pant pocket, grasping onto your false security.

Keeping sheepish contact with the rest of his crew, eyeing you like they were hungry animals. Why would he bring you here, why would you dress this way? Sickeningly he’d conditioned you into thinking their primal gaze was all of your fault, what a whorish way you came tonight. “Well I’m Namjoon, this at my left is Jin, Yoongi, Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok.” He pointed around himself, each of them offered some form of greeting.

Tae began to walk again, shuffling close behind him until he sat down, pulling you into his lap as the rest of them sat around the large table. Struggling to pull the sheer fabric of the skirt over your exposed legs your face grew hot as his hand found a home between your thighs. Regretting your wardrobe decision you turn to bury your face in your captors neck. The stare of the men around you spiking your anxieties, before you’d wish to be anywhere but the house of Kim Taehyung. But now you would love to be there sheltered under his chilled silk sheets.

They spoke in mumbles, business and respect, trades and murder. He rubbed his large hand over your shivering back, “you should’ve taken a coat, you’re shaking like a leaf kitten.” He mumbles warmly against your ear. A disapproving sigh is given,his small act of care had been found out. “is she going to distract all of you, Taehyung, take her into the hall and leave her till we’re finished.” Namjoon spoke as if You were some sort of toy to him.

You turned swiftly pleading with your eyes, frankly Namjoon was tired of your presence. He was all tight business. Taking his hand away from your back, he took a breath attempting to rebuttal, “she shouldn’t even be hearing this, any of it.” Yoongi spoke up over him looking up from the table, his glare the harshest.

Two against six, You felt your heart flutter in fright. You strangely felt secure on him, being alone in the hall would feel like torture in this unknown place. You took the fabric of Tae’s coat between my fingers. He might be crazy, but I know he wouldn’t kick you out, he’s crazy about you, and you only.He slowly gets up , your feet hit the floor. “Think about your position hyung.” The youngest of the group whispers his eyes stretching, “Leave I dare you.” Namjoon’s lips puckered at the side as he bit the inside of his cheek, he sat back in his chair motioning towards the door. “You’ll be dead before Monday….you and your little bitch too.” He finishes his threat crossing his arms.

He chuckles lowly before speaking, You’ve heard that laugh before. “The fact that you all think I’d leave is unnerving...seems like you wanted me gone anyway.” His voice is flat and full of annoyance. “Don’t take it that way.” Jimin attempts to cool the situation that’s growing in heat. “I think I’ll go, try to kill me if you want, you’ll be rudely awakened Namjoon….you and your slutty bitch too.” His temper nearing its peak, you could hear it in his tone. “You never trusted me, any of you.” His unstable anger getting the best of him, it never takes much to rile him up.

His sadness transforms to anger in the matter of seconds. After throwing a few more loaded threats he harshly pulls you out of the room, they silently watch. He keeps a death grip on your wrist, knowing better than to speak you struggle to keep up with his angered steps. “This is all your fault.” He grumbles causing you to trip siigthly. Picking up the speed were at the car in record speed, shivering you wait for him to unlock the door. “I stick up for you and now everything’s gone to shit and you have nothing to say.” He pushed you in, without the strength respond you mearly Trimbled in the passenger seat.

He backs out of the driveway, “you’re lucky you’re mine, you’re lucky I love you anyway.” He sighs in aggravation, if this is luck, you’d rather have death.

(Not my photo)

[blazedgraysons]

plsss a concept riding gray for the first time?

a/n: lemme stop saying this isn’t a series because at this point..... anyways merry (early) christmas if you celebrate it!!! wishing you plenty of presents under the tree and a stress free holiday <333

warnings: um this is all smut. like just 1.6k words of smut. enjoy 

part 1 part 2 part 3

“It’s not going to fit.” You say warily.

“We both know that’s not true.”

He’s sitting in front of you, hand lazily moving up and down. You raise an eyebrow.

“Are you forgetting you took my virginity like only a week ago?”

He smirks at that, hand movements speeding up slightly.

Grayson has spent the past week fucking you, spending all his free time trying to get you in bed with him. He seemed to be insatiable, having had a taste of you and not wanting to let go.

You were brushing your teeth one evening when he comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist.

You smile around your toothbrush, always welcoming the presence of your boyfriend. You had just figured this was his typical clinginess, wanting to be beside you every minute he can until you fully take him in through the mirror, noticing his appearance was different. His hair was tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it for the past couple of minutes, and he was already planting sloppy kisses along your neck, trailing from your collarbone upwards. He’s suddenly murmuring into your ear, “Wanna see you on top of me, angel.”

Everything you two had done for the most part has been pretty standard, missionary every night and alternating sloppy head in the morning. You hadn’t ventured too far into the sex world, and now that he was bringing new positions up, nerves were starting to ignite in your stomach.

“ I, I don’t know how.” You admit, knowing that that was already obvious to him. However, you were still caught up in wanting to impress him and make every new experience for you even better for his years of experience.

“Don’t care, I’ll show you.” He mumbles, still focused on marking up your neck, moving on to another side when he gets bored of the other.

Which is how you found yourself standing in front of him, you still in bra and underwear as he’s completely naked. He’s stroking himself, watching you like you're his own personal playboy, and you can’t help but clench your thighs at the imagery.

“C’mere.” He grabs your waist, pulling you, so you’re directly on top of his upper thighs. You squirm slightly, and Grayson can feel you dripping on to his leg.

“Why don’t you want to?” He’s not teasing you, just simply wanting to understand your boundaries and ease any nerves.

“Are you forgetting the part about you being too big?” You roll your eyes. While he had been able to bottom out since the first time, it still was a stretch, and he had to prepare you every time, fingering and eating you out before he could finally chase his own relief. You were unsure how you were going to be able to focus and be in control like how he clearly expected; you so used to him guiding you through everything.

You trusted Grayson, knowing that he would never settle for anything less than the best for you. And you know this was all still part of a deep-rooted insecurity of him having more experience than you, but he leans up to kiss you deeply, and you’re moving on his thighs again, dragging wetness across his tattoos. He groans lowly in his throat, looking down at the small wet spot on his leg before looking back up at you.

“Want you to fuck me. Please - angel.” There’s something so pretty about the way begging sounds coming from him that you nod, knowing that he could drag you to hell and back if he asked nicely enough.

You lean in to kiss him, feeling brave, and slowly slip your mouth open, tongue brushing against his. You position yourself, so you’re sitting on top of him as he trails his kisses down your neck and chest, leaving dark marks along the way.

“ I know you’re wet for me, want it just as much as I do.” He murmurs after a particularly harsh suck on your collarbone, dragging a finger under your clothed center to prove his point.

You buck your hips slightly, missing the way he drags his finger so it just barely brushes your clit, and he gets the message, pushing one finger in between your slit. You’re used to this, familiar to the way he fingers you and stretches you out so you can take all of him. He adds another and then another, watching at the way your body takes three of his thick fingers.

In his defense, he is patient. He curls his fingers inside of you, repeatedly moving as you continue to leak more and more for him. You moan slightly, chest arching into him. You keep moaning, louder and louder, until your cumming all over his hand, only the first orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty for me, angel.” Your face heats up slightly, hiding in his shoulder while he sucks your arousal off his fingers shamelessly. You’re still not used to his excessive praising even if your body reacts differently. Still, it does light a fire in you, wanting to keep hearing the sweet compliments come out of his mouth. He's helping you get undressed, unclasping your bra and tearing your underwear off until you push him back, making sure he’s flat against the bed and rising so your pussy is directly above him.

He watches intently, eyes never leaving the way you slowly sink down on him. He lets you get adjusted, getting used to the fact you can feel every throbbing inch of him. You both let out a soft moan, his head falling back when you slowly rise back up. You get to the point where only his tip is still inside you before dropping back down again, slowly grinding up and down his dick.

It’s not breakneck, nothing too incredible, you still trying to get used to the pace and too wrapped up in your own head on what’ll make him feel good.

Grayson, however, is in his own world. On Cloud 9, as he watches you drag yourself up and down, up and down. His eyes are glued to where the two of you are connected, trying to commit every single moment to memory, so he never forgets this.

“Look so fucking good like this.” He growls, placing a hand on your ass, not doing anything but to ground himself in this euphoria he seems to have found himself in. He leans up to suck on your nipple, harshly sucking on your tit while playing with the other. You whine loudly, rhythm faltering as his tip grazes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, Grayson. So big.” The only thing that comes to mind, because he is. Even underneath you, you feel overwhelmed by just him: by his body, by his dick, by the twisted look of pleasure on his face, by the low grunts that keep spilling out whenever you twist your hips a certain way. It’s overwhelming, and his presence seems larger than life when he’s stretched out like this underneath you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, noticing how your pace is slowly starting to falter as you get tired, and starts thrusting up into you, planting his feet so he can reach even further and deeper than before. Your moans pick back up, watching as his face is set in concentration.

It’s funny how you had set out on making this night about him, and yet he’s grinding his hips into yours, set on making you cum before him.

He smiles smugly up at you, watching as your eyes roll back when he thrusts deep inside.

“Shit, Gray. I thought I was supposed to be - fuck” You whine out the last part loudly, him moving his hand down to rub your clit. “ S'posed to be fucking you.”

He doesn’t say anything, choosing to watch your body tremble slightly above his. Between your tits in his mouth, him rubbing your clit, and the incessant rolling of his hips, your orgasm is fast approaching.

Your nipple pops from his mouth, nipples wet and shiny from his spit as he looks up at you with his pupils blown.

“ Wanna see you cum all over my dick instead.” And if his actions before didn't do it, how fucking wrecked his voice sounds causes you to cum harder than you ever have before, your orgasm lighting every part of your body alive as your body trembles on top of him. You moan loudly, collapsing on top of him as ragged breaths come out of you, trying to catch your breath.

He keeps thrusting underneath you, too close to his own release to want to stop and feel the way you squeezed tightly around him, your own high forcing his body into overdrive. He’s snapping his hips relentlessly, and it’s almost too much for your body to handle, pubic bone brushing your clit into overstimulation.

You whine out, not knowing whether it’s for him to stop or keep going. But one look at the fucked out, determined look on his face gives you your answer for you.

“Amour,” you purr. “Cum.” It’s a simple demand, but it’s enough to get Grayson to falter, cumming deep inside you as he grinds through his orgasm. He lets out a deep, guttural moan, you getting used to the familiar feeling of him pulsing inside you.

He leans back onto the pillow, you falling on top of him. Both your chests rising and falling in tandem, as you listen to his erratic heartbeat try to find a steady rhythm.

“Have I ever mentioned how fucking hot you are?”

“Once or twice, yeah.” You mumble, sleepiness falling over you.

“You’re fucking incredible. That- that - was fucking incredible.” You start to grow shy under his constant praise and are quick to point out his work as well.

“Even if you did half the work?”

“Next time, you can be in charge.” He promises.

You smile wickedly, not even trying to hide the mischief in your eyes.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

[spencerreidsmiles]

Skater Boy Spencer Reid

Written by: spencerreidsmiles

Howdy, howdy! I am very slowly going through my remaining requests. This request was for prompts 38, 41, and 47 on the fluff prompt list here. You’ll see them bolded throughout the story!

Also, a short side note that I have no idea how to skateboard at all! This is solely based off my intensive research (/s) on how to skateboard, so if this isn’t accurate, I’m sorry!

Summary - The reader teaches Spencer how to skateboard.

Content Warnings - blood, minor injury, light teasing

Word Count - 1737

MASTERLIST // WATTPAD VERSION

“Skateboarding? Of all things you could’ve chosen, skateboarding?”

“Oh come on, Spencer, you never know, you might be good at it,” you replied, yanking at his shirt sleeve. 

Spencer glanced at you with a slightly withering glare. It was a look you were very familiar with; if there was one thing you enjoyed more than anything else in the world, it was teasing Spencer. It was just so easy to tease him, so why wouldn’t you?

But amidst all the teasing about the skateboarding, there was a part of you that knew Spencer Reid would make an excellent skater boy. 

You leaned closer to Spencer, looking up with the biggest puppy eyes you could muster and a big pout. 

“Remember when I saved your ass? You owe me, Spencer,” you said, emphasizing each word with a poke to his chest. “You said you would do whatever I wanted.”

Spencer glanced away with a pout. “Fine, whatever you like.” 

“Hm, I knew you would say that.” You grinned with satisfaction and squeezed his cheeks. “I’ll see you at the skate park tomorrow! Don’t forget your knee pads!” 

Spencer did not, in fact, forget his knee pads. (Not that forgetting things was something Spencer usually did.) And even though you had told him to bring his knee pads, you couldn’t help but laugh when you saw him walk - no, waddle - up in matching purple knee pads, elbow pads, and a helmet. He looked long and gangly and awkward in his gear with his usual converse and for once, a tee shirt and shorts. You hadn’t ever seen him in any of these clothes before but you had to admit, you definitely weren’t disliking it. 

“You look really good. Color coordinated too,” you said with a big smile as you knocked the side of his helmet with your knuckles. 

“You like it?” Spencer beamed. He did a little spin, the clasps of his helmet twirling around. 

“It’s perfect for you. Honest.” You kicked up your spare board, catching the top. “But let’s get down to business. I’m going to make you a skater boy by the end of the day, Spencer Reid. That is a promise.”

You handed the board over to Spencer. It was old and scraped up from years of use and many, many wipeouts. When you’d first bought it years ago, it was red and shiny, but now the red had faded away, leaving only a wooden board with strips of red remaining. The wheels were still functional, if a bit wonky, but perfect for learning on. 

For someone who claimed to have absolutely zero athletic ability, Spencer was quite good at skateboarding. Well, to be fair, he hadn’t actually started skateboarding for real yet. You started him off by placing a single foot onto the board with the other still fully intact with the ground, but it was a start. He got a feel for what it felt like to bend his knees and push his weight around to move the board. But now he had to put both feet on the board and actually skateboard.

“Y/N, look! I’m doing it!” Spencer said as he hopped around on one leg while scooting with his other on the board. 

You couldn’t help but smile. The childlike glee Spencer was exuding could make anyone smile. He carted himself around the perimeter of the skate park as you trailed behind him, keeping a careful eye on him. 

“Alright, Spencer. Well here comes the hard part. Give me your hands, you’re going to put both feet on the board now.” 

Instantly, Spencer’s smile was replaced with a worried expression. He put his foot down on the ground and paused in front of you. 

“What?” he asked. You brushed aside some of Spencer’s hair that had escaped his helmet, accidentally brushing his cheek as well. Shivers tickled your spine and unfamiliar goosebumps covered your body. 

“Hey, I got you. Trust me, okay?” you said.

“Okay.” Spencer nodded and placed his hands in yours. 

“Now push off with your right foot, then put it back on the board, and I’ll pull you, got it?” you directed. 

With a silent gulp, Spencer did as you said. He bent his knees and pushed off with his right foot before placing it back on his board. You started walking backwards and pulled Spencer forward. Slowly, you started walking back faster and faster until you had started to jog. 

“Spencer, you’re doing it! You’re doing it!” you exclaimed. 

Without saying another word, you let go of Spencer’s hands. And for a minute, he was actually doing it, actually skating around with both feet firmly planted onto the board and arms spread out like wings. You were so busy admiring him you didn’t even notice that he had begun to lose balance and wobble.

“Y/N! How do I stop!” he shouted, reaching his hands out for you.

“Oh shoot! Hold on!” 

You started running back towards him, but you were too late. Spencer had already leaned too far ahead. He started making circles with his hands, flapping around in an attempt to keep his balance. Just as you grabbed his hands, the board kicked out from under him and both of you fell flat onto the asphalt. 

You had your eyes closed while you were falling, so when you opened them to find Spencer’s face only a couple inches above yours and his body on top of yours, you nearly screamed. You had never been this close to Spencer in your entire life. Surely if he was this close, he could hear your heart beating out of your chest, no? You were breathless but you weren’t quite sure if it was because you were being squished by Spencer or because of how close you were to him. 

Spencer, however, was completely frozen. His hands were placed right beside your head and he was staring, just staring, straight at you. His caramel curls hovered right above your face, blowing gently from the wind. 

“Hi,” you said breathlessly. 

“Are you okay?” he whispered. 

“I’ll be honest, you are crushing me right now.” 

“Oh, sorry!” Spencer rolled off of you, landing on his butt, cross-legged on the ground. You wriggled yourself up and watched as Spencer dusted himself off. 

When you finally made eye contact, you couldn’t help but start laughing. You were just replaying the image of Spencer slipping over and over again. It was incredible. 

“That was the most ridiculous fall I’ve ever seen, Spencer, my god.” 

You leaned back, holding your stomach as you laughed. Just before you fell over completely again, Spencer caught your hand. From that single touch, electricity shot from your fingertips into the rest of your body. The sensation nearly scared you for how good it felt, how alive it made you feel. Touching Spencer felt like you were skating without even getting on a board. You never wanted to let go. 

But Spencer did. He pulled back, forehead scrunching as he winced. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. But then you saw it, his poor hands all torn up from the fall. They were rubbed raw with speckles of red dotting his palms. “Oh my gosh, Spencer, your hands!” 

“I’m fine,” he said. He looked at his own palms, flexing it, moving it around.

“No, come here, at least let me clean it,” you said as you stood up. “Come on, I have a first aid kit in my bag.”

You led Spencer to a bench with all of your things. As you cleaned his palms, wiping them with antiseptic wipes and bandaging them, you could feel Spencer’s eyes watching you. 

After years of working for the FBI, going on case after case for years, Spencer’s hands were rough and calloused. There were scars, too many for you or him to remember where and when they came from now, blending in with the creases of his hands. But still, they were comforting, familiar.

“One more try, okay? I believe in you. No more wipeouts.” You finished bandaging his hands with a gentle pat. Spencer pretended to pout, giving you a half-meaning glare. 

“Oh come on, you’re okay. Do you need a kiss to make it better?” you teased. 

“What?” Spencer’s face flushed. 

“I’m kidding.” You pushed his shoulder lightly all whilst thinking that for the first time (or at least the first time you had truly acknowledged it) you weren’t really joking at all. “Now come on, one more try.”

Spencer was more hesitant this time, but he reached for your hands again. He placed one foot on the board, already beginning to wobble. Come on, Spencer, you can do it, you thought to yourself. He glanced at you as he took a deep breath. 

And he did. Spencer soared around the whole park. He was like a natural as he swerved around with outstretched arms. The sound of the wheels sliding against the pavement surrounded you as Spencer removed his back foot from the board and stopped without flying off the board right in front of you. 

“You did it, Spencer!” You ran up to Spencer and enveloped him in a massive hug. 

Spencer returned your hug, throwing his arms around you tightly. His knee pads knocked against your legs as he pulled you closer to him. He smelt of coffee and baby powder under the sweat and dirt and twinge of blood that lingered in the air. As you stayed there wrapped up in his arms, you wondered if it was possible to stay here forever in the comfort you never knew was so close. 

The two of you finally decided to leave when the sun started to beat down on your backs. While Spencer was prepared for almost everything, apparently the two things he hadn’t thought about were guard gloves and sunscreen. Spencer grabbed the board, resting it comfortably under his arm. 

As you went to get your bag, Spencer tapped your shoulder and spoke. “So uh, can we do this again next week?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I would love that, Spencer. And who knows, you might be better than me soon.”

Spencer looked down with a growing smile on his face. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” you said, fearlessly grabbing Spencer’s hand.

You walked away with satisfaction, thinking to yourself only one thing; you were right, Spencer Reid did make an excellent skater boy.

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