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rileyglas · 4 months

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Can we get part 2 of the cat Lucifer, cat Alastor, and little Adam thing? Like living with them type thing or daily life? It was adorable!!

The sheer chaos that all three of these little counterparts make was fun to explore! Hope you enjoy! Part One can be found here

Meeting their Fandom Counterparts Pt. 2 Alastor, Lucifer, and Adam x gn!reader

Cat Alastor

The morning light just started to peek through the window of your room. You roll over with a stretch, hand reaching for Alastor, “Good morning my - OW FUCK get off!” The cat, if you can even call it that, pounces and embeds its teeth into your arm. You fling it off to the floor, a solid thud resonates across the wood planks. “Al I can’t keep going with this! He won’t even let me near you without going nuts!”

“He’s protective, that’s all. I’m sure he just needs to warm up to you a bit more. Isn’t that right my boy?” he coos, patting the bed beside him to call the cat back. You roll your eyes and scoff. That thing has been Alastor’s new favorite in the hotel for nearly three weeks now. It has wreaked havoc every day, not to mention the turmoil poor Lucifer has gone through thanks to its antics. “And how much more time do we need before coming to the conclusion he’s a deranged, rabid nuisance?” A scowl crosses your face as you swing your legs over the bed to get up.

You hear a static filled growl rumble at your words before the cat stretches to a concerning length, curling up and purring in Alastor’s lap. “I’ve grown quite fond of him, my dear. I can’t help that he’s bonded with me.” You groan under your breath, “Can you at least try to keep him away from Lucifer today? The King is starting to get a nervous tick. He could use a break from the torture.” Alastor exhales in acknowledgement but you already know the day you’re in for.

A few hours later, everyone sits around the table happily munching on breakfast. Lucifer sits across from you, sipping on his coffee quietly. His eye twitches ever so slightly. “Feeling alright, sir?” you ask, noticing his nerves are more fried than ever. Before he can answer he violently jolts,“UHG something BIT me!?” he yells as he pushes his chair back. Alastor’s cat pops up from between his legs with some white material between a disturbing smile. Both you and Lucifer shoot a glare at Alastor who is chuckling smugly to himself.

“You need to keep a leash on that thing before I take care of it myself!” Lucifer hisses. Alastor’s eyes flash and he slams his hands to the table, “You will not lay a finger on him!” The two men go nose to nose, arguing (yet again). Angel leans over to you, “That thing chased Fat Nuggets around with a fork last night. Its eyes always have that deranged, unsettling look. I personally wouldn’t mind if the King took care of it.” he whispers. You nod in agreement but sigh, knowing it is one of the few things Alastor has come to love during his time here. There’s no way you could take that away from him.

You stand and clear your throat, “Al I think Lucifer is right. You need to keep a better eye on him if you want to keep him. Don’t want him running off any potential clients of the hotel, right Mr. Hotelier?” He rolls his eyes, snapping his fingers to conjure a collar and leash. “Fine, I’ll keep him closer for the sake of the hotel.” his voice drops slightly, “But don’t think I am done with allowing him to make some special visits.”

Lucifer groans as the cat jumps into Alastor’s lap for his collar. The two give a final, eerily similar grin to the King before disappearing into a shadow. “You going to be okay?” you ask Lucifer. He shudders slightly, examining the new hole in his slacks. You hear a small chuckle leave his throat, “Yeah…I think I’m going to go get a dog today. A big one.”

Cat Lucifer

“Honey I really don’t know if a bow tie is necessary -” Lucifer tries to convince you but you wave him off as you adjust the tiny tie attached to the white cat’s collar, “Come on! He looks like a little distinguished gentleman, don’t you Luci?” “Stop calling him that!” he grumbles, arms crossed across his chest. The smallest pout on his lips makes you melt pitifully, “Now my love, don’t tell me you’re jealous? You’re still the number one man in my life.” Still holding the cat, you lean over and kiss Lucifer’s cheek.

A light blush crosses his face with a small grin, “I know. I guess I just feel so disconnected lately. I’m sorry.” Luci hops out of your arms and paws at Lucifer’s coat tail. A sudden idea makes your face light up. “Why don’t you make him a toy? You’re locked in your office so much - maybe it can be a little side project to help bring you closer?”

The cat stares up at the King, eyes glossed over and a small droplet of drool dangling off its chin. Lucifer sneers, “Are you sure he even understands what a toy is?” You smooth his coat and push him out the door, “Just consider it, please? Have a good day dear.” A week later, as usual, Lucifer was working overtime every night. You’re grateful you at least have the small fluff ball to keep you company, even if Luci is a little on the dim side. You’ve witnessed him attack his own feet and roll off the bed multiple times, hitting the ground with a disgruntled huff of defeat. He’s even taken a few swipes at Fat Nuggets. When the pig turned to chase him his wings would puff out in an attempt to ‘fly’ away. The poor thing just looked as though he was having a seizure, flailing and flapping around on the floor, going nowhere. Let’s just say - he’s lucky he’s cute.

Lucifer finally comes in one evening sporting a smug grin, “My dear! Introducing my new creation!” He extends his hand out holding a small white rubber duck with cat ears and a red bow tie, “It’s a duck..cat..thing but more importantly, I installed little wheels underneath so he can chase it to his heart's content!”

He sets the duck down in front of Luci. The cat noses it, hissing when he hears the whirling of the gears that make the duck slide across the hardwood floor. Lucifer’s shoulder stoop, “Damn, I really thought he would like it.” he admits with a hint of sadness. You pat his shoulder, “Give him a moment - oh see! He loves it!” Luci begins to roll around and chirp playfully. After a few moments he pounces (clumsily), catching it between his fangs. The cat proudly struts over to Lucifer and sets the toy at his feet. He bends down to scratch between Luci’s ears, “Hmpf. You’re welcome little guy!”

Your plan for Lucifer to bond seems to backfire slightly. Before you know it, not only is your boyfriend missing nearly every night, but you’ve noticed Luci hasn’t come to bed with you as usual. After a few nights of this, you sneak down the hall to peek into the King’s office. You can’t help but giggle at the scene before you. Lucifer works hard at his desk, with one drawer pulled out next to him. You notice a small blanket stuffed inside and on top is Luci, curled up comfortably and purring. His little white duck tucked safely under his paw. Every now and then Lucifer’s hand finds the cat to give it a few pats. Well…at least someone has company.

Little Adam

The deal of not allowing Little Adam to come home didn’t last long. The day after he showed up you stand at the stove cooking dinner when you feel a small pinch on your ass. “Well hello to - what the HEAVENS is he doing here!?” You turn around expecting your Adam only to see the little shit making obscene grabbing motions with his hands.

“I couldn’t leave him again! He was scared!” Adam defends loudly then grumbles something under his breath. “What was that dear?” you prod, knowing there’s more to the story. He turns away, embarrassed, “Well…he also might have destroyed the main office while I was gone…and now has a few formal complaints I will have to deal with…”

You cross your arms, “Mhm. And?” Little Adam crawls up your legs and under your shirt. “Hey - NO! OUT!” your words fall on deaf ears as he snuggles into the warmth of your chest. “See he loves you just as much as I do! Please, let’s keep him here?” Adam flashes a coy smile that you, of course, can’t say no to.

It was easy to see why there were so many complaints about Little Adam. Over the course of a few days he ate every snack in the house, groped you anytime he could, and left a mess in any room he was in for more than a minute. You are at your wits end but continue to put up with it for the sake of Adam’s happiness.

That is until tonight. Adam came home in a frisky mood and you welcomed his advances. He no more than got his robe off before Little Adam snuck his way into your bed, obnoxiously cheering his bigger self on. “Nope, that’s not going to happen.” You say as you flick him off the bed. His wings pop out and he flutters around Adam’s head.

“Babe common, it’s just a little me. Not like he can tell anyone what we do. Besides, it’s fuckin’ sick to have a little fan.” Adam says excitedly but his smile drops when he sees how pissed off you are. He hunches his shoulders, “Uhg fine. Sorry little dude. You’ve gotta go.” Little Adam squeaks in protest when Adam plucks him by his wings and throws him outside the bedroom.

Guilt begins to eat at you. On one hand, you couldn’t have that thing destroying the house everyday and terrorizing you. But Adam has grown attached. There had to be a way to make everyone happy. He was bound to just be lonely and need company. That’s when it hits you.

“Whatcha workin on sugar?” Adam asks, kicked back on the couch next to you. “I’m actually just finishing up.” You mutter as you make the final stitch and show Adam a small stuffed doll that has your resemblance. “I figured Little Adam needed a Little Me to keep him company. It’ll be cute…hopefully.”

You set up a small bed across your room for the tiny terror to sleep in. The last thing you wanted was to accidentally squish him in the night. Little Adam hops up and down in the bed excitedly as you set the doll next to him. He immediately snuggles it with a huge smile. “Awe he loves it! You did good babe.” Adam chuckles and wraps an arm around you. “Maybe now he’ll leave us alone. He probably was just in need of a frien - uhg great. Now he’s humping it.” You roll your eyes and walk away in disgust. “He’s definitely you.” you poke angrily at Adam who is nearly falling over from laughter. At this point, you’re just glad you found something to keep Little Adam out of trouble.

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teddyeyeseddie · 9 months

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The Cherrywood Motel

Starry Haze, Crystal Ball

rockstar!Eddie x housekeeper!reader

masterlist

(a/n: ITS BACKKKK AND SO AM I!! Enjoy my lovelies and visit my blog for some life updates!)

warnings: soft eddie, smut, minors dni, oral (fem rec), p in v, cream pie x 2, riding, showering together, a jump from last chapter.

now playing:

You lug all your clothes into the laundromat down the street, heaving the heavy bag onto the table before you once you’ve made your way inside. The smell of bleach and laundry detergent mixes in your nostrils as you sort your piles of dirties.

It’s early in the morning, the only person in the place being you and an elderly woman. You enjoy the quiet, only the soft whirring of the dryers breaking the silence.

You separate your lights from darks, throwing your first load in when a familiar voice resonates through the quaint room.

“Shit- fuck,” you look over to see Eddie struggling with a bag of laundry. You chuckle to yourself, your eyes meeting his. His face lights up when he sees you.

“Hey stranger,” he breathes out as he settles in at the table next to you.

“Hi Eddie,”

Ever since Eddie woke up in your bed, things had been different. Eddie seemed happier, his demeanor not so jittery. You talked more, Eddie revealing more about his life.

You learned he was really a dork. Knows a little too much about horror movies, still plans D&D campaigns for fun, and collects mugs from every new place he goes.

He’s become softer, more himself in the last few days. You found yourself getting closer to him, his magnetic force drawing you in with every little conversation.

His captivating personality had you expressing more things about yourself, like your favorite flower, how you got the scar on your shoulder, and all about your childhood cat, Mr. Snuffles.

Talking to Eddie when he was sober was easy, he didn’t go on unnecessary tangents, he wasn’t as flirty and he looked oh so pretty when he was healthy.

His usual red eyes now pure, no sign of distress in them. He even started taking care of his hair, his usual frizzy locks now smooth and curly. He was doing better. You were proud of him.

“Didn’t think I’d be seeing you today,” he says, pulling out all of his clothes and settling them into a pile. He gathers them all in his arms, walking towards a washer.

“Aren’t you gonna sort them?” you ask, chuckling to yourself as Eddie struggles with the large amount of clothes he has in his hands.

“I never do?” he says as if it's almost a question.

“Well, I’m sure you have some 200 dollar shirts in there that are begging to be sorted,”

“My uh- lady at home usually does it. This is how I used to do laundry when I was a kid,”

You roll your eyes, motioning for him to come back to the table.

You sort his dirty clothes for him, it feels pathetic but the smile he has on his face as you help him makes it somewhat worth it.

“You’ve gotta sort lights from darks. I’d suggest separating your whites too but I don’t want you to keel over,”

He chuckles, grabbing the pile of darks and carrying them to a washer. He puts in his quarters, handing you some so you can start the pile of lights.

“So what are you up to for the rest of the day?” he questions as he strolls back to the tables where your clothes still lay.

“Nothing really, apartment hunting for a little bit and then back to the motel,” you gather your pile of clothes, turning towards the washers and placing the items inside. Eddie swoops in front of you and puts quarters in for you, you playfully roll your eyes but smile up at him nonetheless.

“Oooh, that should be fun,” he scratches at the back of his neck, “I uh- owe you for bailing me out so just let me know what you need for the security deposit and I’ll write a check,”

“Thank you Eddie, but you don’t have to. I lost your jacket, I bailed you out, were even,”

Eddie shakes his head, curls flying in all directions at the erratic movement.

“Someone stole my jacket from you, you didn’t just leave it for anyone to take. Plus I can,so let me,” he states, eyes locking with yours in a stare.

“Just let me, it’s the least I can do-” you nod your head, allowing the man to help you pay your way into a new apartment.

A feat that was easier said than done, you had looked at 5 separate places with Christa, none of them being anything close to what you wanted or needed.

You finally decide to call it quits and return back to the hotel, smiling when you see Eddie waiting outside your door with a pizza box in his hand. Christa sends you a wink as you get out of the car, a soft “enjoy yourself” falling from her lips.

Eddie grins widely when he sees you step out of Christa’s car.

“Sorry- thought you were home from your hunting,” he motions towards your car that is parked a few spots down from your door.

“Kinda got stuck at our last place. Creepy landlord,” you straighten out the pleats of your skirt as Eddie sucks in a breath in through his teeth, wincing dramatically.

“At least you dodged that bullet,” he says as he leans against the doorframe waiting for you to open it, his slim shoulders doing a good job at boxing you in. The smell of his cologne makes your mind whir, gone are the days of dried puke and alcohol.

You unlock the door, Eddie’s hand pushing it open forcing you to duck underneath his arm. He lets the door close softly behind him once he is inside, being sure to lock the deadbolt.

He places the pizza box on the small table by the window. He draws the curtains, blocking out the rest of the world and turning the room into a space that was only for the two of you.

“Got your favorite,” he motions to the box with his thumb as he walks up behind you. You’re stepping out of your shoes when Eddie’s arm snakes around your front, under your arm and resting on your collarbone. He’s come over every night since the cleaning fiasco, you talk about the ten-day-whirlwind that the two of you have embarked on and get to know eachother even more.

Eddie spends most of his time apologizing when you recall anything from the short time of knowing him, ashamed of how much he had hurt you.

It’s been a week of take-out, today bringing you to day seventeen. Ten days of hell and seven of something in between a raging fire and a rumbling earthquake- scalding your skin and shaking off the dust settled deep in your soul.

His arm comes undone from you, his hand tracing down your tricep, over your elbow, ghosting down your forearm, finally grasping your hand as he draws you towards the radio sitting in the corner of the room.

Eddie liked to dance- he twirled to what he called your “teeny bopper” music, he swayed his hips to country music, he even danced to his own music when you forced him to listen to it one night.

Eddie danced with you tonight- his fingers fit perfectly through yours, his hand rested right in the dip of your waist, his lips looked pretty in this light.

“Are you thinking about kissing me, sweets?” He questions, a smile forming on his lips as he leans forward. You blush nervously, nodding your head. His smile gets even wider before he leans in, lips capturing yours.

Both his hands come to cup your face, cheeks tugging and eyes crinkled as he leans in further. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, pushing backwards until your knees hit the back of the couch. You pull away, shifting from foot to foot as you wait for Eddie to take the reins. He chuckles softly before capturing your lips in another soft kiss before pulling away and plopping down onto the couch. He pulls you into his lap, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, all the way to your shoulder.

His eyes meet yours, his hands fumbling with the edge of your sweater. A plea on the edge of his lips as he looks up at you. You nod, letting him remove the garment from your body. He audibly moans at the sight, your breasts bouncing freely only leaving you in your skirt.

“Please tell me you have panties on,” he mumbles, hand snaking down to your center. He bites his lips and groans when he’s met with your sticky folds.

“S’ laundry day,” you giggle.

His fingers trace through your slick, he has half a mind to shove the fingers in your face, make you lick yourself off of him. But When he glances over your face, your pouting lips and furrowed brow send his heart racing. He decides right then that you're an angel. He thinks there’s no way you're real, there is absolutely no way you’re here with him.

He wraps his arm around your waist, standing from his place on the couch. He walks you back to the bed as you kiss up the side of his neck. He lands you on the middle, arms caging you in as he leans down to kiss you. He’s much slower this time, desperate clashing of teeth melting to well thought out movements.

You pull away from him, hands coming to mess with the edge of his old band tee.

“You’re much too dressed for the occasion, Mr. Munson,” you giggle out. He smiles down at you, getting up to strip out of his clothes. You hold your breath when he pulls down his boxers, his cock springing out and slapping against his belly. It’s big and you’re sure he knows it.

He crawls back up the bed, kissing from your ankle to your neck. He splays kisses across your face, finally meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.

His eyes bore into yours as he pushes some hair from your face before kissing you again, but he pulls away much too quickly for your liking.

“M’ gonna eat you out now, kay’?” he mumbles against your lips, you nod, throwing your head back as Eddie begins to kiss back down your body. He stops at the waistband of your skirt, mumbling something to himself before hooking his fingers in the band and pulling the fabric over your bottom.

He moans at the sight of your center, leaning forward to press a kiss to your thighs before diving in completely. He licks from your hole, up to your clit, tongue dancing around the bundle of nerves. Your knuckles grip the white sheets, mind reeling as he works you up to an orgasm. He laps at your pussy, pulling away to spit on his fingers.

His ringed fingers come to push through the sticky mess the two of you have created, one finally pushing in, drawing a guttural moan from your lips. The cold metal of his rings bump against your skin every time he thrusts his fingers in and out. He works you up to three before pulling them out completely, mouth still assaulting your clit, causing you to squeal.

“You ready f’me?” he questions, mouth still between your legs. You tug on his hair, pulling him away from your center, nodding profusely with a smile on your face.

He pushes you further up the bed, settling in between your legs. His cock nudges at your hole, the tip catching inside, you mewl quietly when he pushes in. He leans down, arms settling on either side of your head, his hair tickling your nose as he looks down at you intently.

“So pretty,” You mumble, hand coming up to cup his cheek and draw him into a kiss. He smiles into it, pulling away and admiring the way your face contorts every time he punches that spongy spot inside you.

“S’ all you, sweets,” He moans, forehead pressing against yours as he drives into you. The pace he sets draws moan after moan from deep within you.

Your hand stays cupping his face, kissing him again, your lips barely brushing his when he pulls away.

“C’mon pretty girl, tell me what it is. Wanna know what I should be moaning while I ruin you.”

You shutter a breath out- your name falling off your lips and into the air.

“F-fuck..” he’s full on smiling, his eyes crinkling as he languidly thrusts inside you.

“Eds-Eddie. M’ close,”

“Shit-ok. Where do you want me?” He picks up his pace, cock nudging at all the right places.

“Inside- want you inside,” Your legs lock around his waist, forcing him to bury himself to the hilt as he spills inside of you.

He’s giggling when you finally release him, pulling his still hard cock from inside you and smearing around the mess that has formed between your legs.

“Look so good painted all pretty for me. Could take a picture and look at it all tour long. Would never haveta’ look anywhere else. Just me this little memory and my hand,” he’s pulling your ass cheeks apart, releasing them before his thumb hooks into your pussy as he rummages around on the side table- careful not to knock down the countless polaroids around the camera.

“Can I sweets? Take a pretty little polaroid of this pretty little pussy?” he thrusts his thumb in further, drawing more cum out of you. You giggle when you feel it run down your thighs as you give him a soft hum in response to his question.

He snaps a picture of your most bare area, the idea makes you blush but then there's the idea of Eddie- using it. That makes it feel alright.

“Just wanna take one more,” he says as his cock nudges at your hole again, the puffy skin wanting to scream no but the burn short circuiting your brain at the same time.

He snaps another picture once he’s half inside you, your hands covering your face as you giggle.

“Enough of that,” he says with a small chuckle as he tosses the camera back onto the bedside table. His hands grip your hips as he lazily thrusts into you.

After finally having enough of Eddie’s teasing, you push at Eddie’s belly, signaling him to stop. He flashes you a confused look as he pulls out but soon gets the idea once you scramble off the bed and begin pushing him towards the couch.

He flops down onto the cushions, legs spreading wide. Deft fingers wrapping around your hips as you sink down onto him, your arms snake around his neck and pull at the hair sitting at the nape.

Eddie looks up at you in awe, his eyes never leaving yours as you ride him. His lips are parted, soft breaths and moans tumbling from his mouth.

“Shit- baby I- I can’t last like this-” He groans as he tries to stop your movements. You grab his hand, raising it and placing it on your breast.

“C’mon sweets, come in me again,” He moans sweetly at his own pet name being used against him, his hips stilling once he is settled inside you. He buries his head in your neck as he comes, teeth biting in as he silences himself.

You let him stay inside you for a while, finally pulling off of him when Eddie begins to rub at the skin on your hips.

You’re up on wobbly legs, shooting Eddie a glare when he begins to chuckle.

He throws his hands up in defense and motions to the mess between his legs. Cum has dripped down his balls and pooled in his seat.

“Gonna need to spot clean this one miss housekeeper,” He winces as he gets up, collecting you in his arms and placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Let’s shower, yeah?”

You nod, taking his hand as he guides you to the small porcelain tub. He turns on the water, testing it with his fingers before stepping in once it has warmed up. He extends his hand to you, thanking him quietly once you're standing before him in the tiny shower.

He takes a step back, moving out of the spray and allowing you to warm up under the water. You take turns getting your bodies warmed up, Eddie finally assuming his position behind you washing your hair.

“You mentioned tour,” you blush as you recall the memory from moments ago. Eddie’s stops scrubbing your scalp and sighs.

“I- I’m leaving,” he says in an almost whimper.

“Oh, when?”

“Two days,”

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definitelynotamhafan · 5 months

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Bound (Fear pt.4)

You were choking. Fire, water, whatever it was, shoving itself down your throat in the void. You wanted to scream, but nothing came. It wasn’t painful. If it was, you would’ve pushed the god off of you long ago.

Atum-Ra’s burning hot hands gripping your throat, and then, kiss after kiss, brought you back. And then fire lit your blood up, flaring inside your veins. Your fingers clutched onto the creator’s hair, pulling and tugging as your own lips sought life into his own. Kisses after kisses, more and more heat sparked your souls.

“Amheh.” Your name, off of his tongue. “You’ll never leave me, right? You promise?”

The heat pounding in your head, along with the lightheaded feeling which his addictive lips gave you, barely allowed you to process his words. But when you did, you barely managed to slur out a:

“Never.”

Before white hot, searing pleasure brought its tendrils around you again, as Atum-Ra’s hips molded into yours for the nth time that night.

It felt so good. So right, up until you’d felt his warm smile fade, into a psychotic grin.

“Swear it. Amheh. Amheh. Amheh! AM-“

___

“-HEH!” Seth’s voice startled you awake as you jolted up, sweating and panting.

“M’ awake! ‘m awake!- ow.” Your head hit the wooden beam of Seth’s bed with a smack.

“You alright? You were screaming in your sleep.” His voice took on a teasing tone as you rubbed your head in absolute silence.

Great. Even in your sleep you couldn’t escape your filthy and possessive ex.

“M’fine…” you mumbled, voice sore and hoarse with grogginess.

You sat up, propping your back off of the cold floor with a hand, the floor on which you had insisted to sleep on the night before, assuring Seth that beds were of no comfort for you, since you used to sleep on obsidian slabs and in pools of hot molten lava. You may or may not have regretted that decision, because you definitely felt your back crack with a wince.

“Told you.” He said, as if knowing what you were thinking. “Was it good?”

“Was what good?” You shot back as you pulled yourself together hard enough to stand up.

“The sex.”

You almost choked on your own spit, wheezing out a: “JESUS CHRIST.”

“Who?”

“Nevermind.” You answered, shrugging off his confusion. “And that.” You said, referring to your private affairs. “Is none of your business.”

Seth’s smirk only tugged up further, turning even as smug as possible, for someone who’d gotten carried to bed by yours truly.

“C’mooooon. I heard you.” He teased. “Oh, Ra, please! Harder~! Harder~!”

You grabbed a nearby pillow and smacked him on the head.

“Bold words coming from you, Mr. I-fell-asleep-on-the-couch-so-Amheh-can-carry-me-like-the-princess-I-am!” You retorted, frowning.

After the entire charade involving hiding from Horus in antique pottery you had stayed up late, enjoying Seth’s yapping about other gods, laughing at how he mocked them and trash talked them, and eventually ended up watching him doze off on the couch. You had carried him back to bed, and when he stirred awake, he had tried to persuade you into joining him, which you refused. Multiple times.

He may have been one of the only people you’d be close enough to consider family, but that didn’t mean you trusted him any more than the venomous viper Ra was. For all you could know, this could’ve been a setup, to get you to admit to the crimes you’d been accused of.

“What’s your deal?” You suddenly blurted out.

“What?” Seth asked, suddenly confused.

“Why are you here?” You questioned, raising a brow. “Didn’t the council curse you to be a demigod? Last I checked, demigods don’t have temples, let alone ones this big-“

“How do you know about that?” He asked, suddenly aggressive. His eyes drifted to yours, blood red eyes meeting your light speckled ones.

“Oh please. You think I’m stupid? Even I, on my millennia long trip, managed to hear what kind of crap you shoved yourself into.” You chastised, half mocking, half annoyed.

“To answer your question, I was a god once.” He retorted, mirroring your tone.

“Was.” You corrected.

“…” he paused. “Your point?” His brow quirked, lips pursing together in annoyance.

“Why would Ra let you keep your temple? Let me tell you this. She wouldn’t.” You said, suddenly suspicious of him. “Did she set this up?”

“What do you take me for?! A fool?” Seth suddenly jumped, like an aggressive hound at the throat of a hare. “Of course not!”

You went silent, but eyed him suspiciously as you sat back down. He was too jumpy. Too quick to shut you down. Something was up.

Silence. It was deafening. It filled your mind, flitting and jumping in between traitorous thoughts and excuses for not believing him. It wasn’t the quiet, serene silence. No. It was the kind which upheld tension, almost suffocating when your brain’s buzzing with so many questions.

“Are you hungry?” Seth asked, breaking this silence.

“What?”

Seth? Offering you food? That was new. But then again, everything was new. You’d been gone millennia. He could’ve changed…

“Don’t make me ask again.”

Nevermind. He’s still the same angry sandcat he once was.

“I won’t.” You replied, defiantly.

“Fine.”

“Fine!” You insisted.

“Fine!” He mirrored.

Silence, again. This wasn’t how you wanted to start your day. In fact, you didn’t even feel like staying in his room anymore.

“I’m going out.” You said suddenly, standing up abruptly, getting ready to leave.

“No.” Seth refused.

“What do you mean, no?“ you whipped around to face him.

“I mean no. You’re not leaving. You’re supposed to be under my surveillance, remember?”

Oh great. Just great. This was what you needed. And it only fed your suspicions further. He may have only wanted to help, but knowing Seth…. There was also an ulterior motive.

“Too bad, sandcat.” You answered, heading for the door.

“What did you just call me?” He asked, stopping you in your tracks, his teasing smile gone, like the moon behind a cloud.

“Sandcat. It’s only fair that I get to call you that since you mistook me for that bastard Heh.” You stated, moving towards the exit, again.

“Cute. But still no.” He said coldly.

A wisp of sand coiled around your foot, keeping you pinned. He had. You knew that much. Demigod or no, his control over sand was much too better than any demigod you’ve encountered. That means, someone had granted him a temporary godhood. And you had a few people in mind.

“Seth.” You said firmly. “Let me go.”

He took in a deep breath, rubbing his hand through his long red hair.

“I can’t.”

You knew he couldn’t, for you could finally see the marking on his lower back. A small eye, in a thin circlet of sun rays, representing your one and only Sun god.

“You lied.” You stated.

“I did.” He replied, smirking sadly.

You paused. Your mind spiraling into too many questions and thoughts of betrayal.

“How much?” You asked. “How much do you have to keep me here, for you to gain your whatever he- she promised you?”

Seth went silent, his lips pressing into a thin line, he looked at you, and then at anything but you.

“A fortnight.” He answered.

Shit.

HEYYY GUYS. SO SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED IN SO LONG, I’ve just been busy with school stuff and catching up on some missing assignments! Hope you enjoyed this part, and I’ll make sure to try and write the next two parts faster!

#egyptian gods #ennead manhwa #ennead mojito #ennead seth #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #seth ennead

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fanficsiwillneverwrite · 2 months

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Next chapter of my god of war fanfic

you can read down below or go on ao3. M rated for nudity.

The air is hot–ygrós–but Kratos only feels coldness. He walks away with blurred vision, both axe and body lustrated in blood from battle. The dragon is slain. The person who remains is… safe. And yet Kratos cannot shake this feeling of being cold. The coward reveals himself when he is told the danger is no more, grumbling something about lost profits. Will he ever mourn? Kratos hums, rage devouring him—he takes a breath and moves on to the nearest gateway. He finds Lúnda near it, hammering away at some new tool at her workshop.

“Well hiya, handsome,” she greets, looking up. She takes notice of his disheveled form: blood drips from his axe onto her wooden table. Sindri might have gagged and Brok would either laugh or throw a terrible fit, depending on his mood that day. Lúnda simply smiles. “Looks like you got into some trouble there.”

He sets the axe down for her to mend. “There was a dragon,” he says. “It is no more.”

“Was wonderin’ what all that racket was,” she says. “Well, we can all sleep a little better tonight knowin’ there’s one less dragon about. Thanks to you, Mr. God of War.”

He says nothing, simply grunts. Blood rolls from his arm onto his clenched fist, and then drops to the dirt below him.

She takes the axe and begins wiping away the blood. “I’ll fix her right up for ya. Don’t ya worry.”

Lúnda begins the process of sharpening his weapon—and his chest tightens. He sees only their burnt bodies when he blinks. Where is Atreus? Is he eating? Is he well?

“You okay, Kratos?” she questions after a moment.

“Yes,” he tells her.

“Ya sure? You seem… I dunno, maybe a little more rattled than yer usual upbeat self.”

“I am… cold.”

She senses his hesitancy. “Yep. Dragon’s blood can do that to ya.” Instead of pushing him, she returns the axe; he places it in its holder behind him. And her eyebrows lift suggestively. “Nothin’ a nice hot bath can’t fix—say hi to Freya for me, would ya?”

He nods, then sets the hacksilver he owes down onto the table and moves to the gateway. But he stops as the door appears... He hears them scream, even still.

“Something else ya need?”

The door collapses and he returns to her. “Have you…” He stops. Eight years since last they spoke, and even longer since he left to find the Giants. Jötunheimr remains empty with no hope in sight of it being otherwise. His stomach twists. The screams, they roar. “Atreus. Has he visited you during his travels?”

“You’ll be the first to know when he does, Kratos,” she assures. “Same with Sindri—wonder where he ran off to?”

“Thank you, Lúnda.”

He opens the gateway, then moves past the blinding white light awaiting the portal to open again. Blood consumes him. His heart pounds. He takes a breath, and the door opens; the bright light leads him back into the humid night. He shivers.

Home is quiet, empty and dark. He hangs up his weapons before searching for cloth to wipe away the blood. One dangles from Freya’s cabinet. Kratos uses it to wipe his hands. His eyes close—the fire burns and they scream. It is too late. He can do nothing.

Creaky floors awaken him. He turns, shaking. Hnoss stands alone in candlelight. She moves barefoot across the wooden floor in only her night clothes, her golden hair wrapped tightly in a braid to tame it during sleep. She lifts the candle to see him clearly. “Father?”

“Did I wake you?” he questions softly.

Hnoss shakes her head, placing the candle down. She then begins searching through her mother’s cabinet. Finally, she finds what she needs: ingredients Freya uses when there is sickness in the household.

“You are ill?” The back of his hand moves instinctively to check her forehead, but stops at the sight of his own blood. He pulls away.

“My… stomach hurts.” Hnoss looks almost embarrassed as she mixes the herbs into a glass jar for herself. “But it’s just… lady stuff. Nothing to worry about.”

He nods, understanding. It is the way of life. Hnoss and Gersemi are women now, Freya reminds him whenever she feels he treats them otherwise.

“What about you? What happened?” She gestures to the blood still consuming him.

He hesitates. “A dragon.”

“You’ve not… healed yourself yet?” she wonders, sipping her mixture.

He does not answer. “Where is your mother?”

Kratos looks around the empty room, seeing only remnants of Freya: their unmade bed hidden off in the corner, shielded from the rest of the area with a dark curtain; dirty plates on the table from dinner; her sword leaning against the wall beside Býleistr’s bow.

“I don’t know.”

“And Mimir?”

“He went to Valhalla,” she says, “along with Sigrun and the other Valkyries. But… Mother didn’t go with them.”

He hums, wiping his hands thoroughly to clean the blood. Hnoss’ eyes linger on him as he works. She wants to touch him, to heal his wounds, but he prevents her. “You do not need to mend me, thisavre mu,” Kratos assures, his now clean hand squeezing her own to emphasize the fact. And finally, he hears a soft distant humming—Freya. Her shadow dances on the wall from the candle light radiating outside the open window. Kratos sets aside the cloth and gently guides his daughter toward the wooden ladder leading up to the room she shares with her siblings. “Bed,” he orders. “It is late.”

She kisses his cheek, despite the speckles of blood. “Goodnight, Father.”

Outside is a large wooden barrel tub where Freya, for the moment, occupies. The steamy water remains mostly stagnant besides the disturbance of a slight breeze, providing comfort to an otherwise hot night.

Her eyes remain closed, but she senses him as he approaches: “If you’ve come for the bath, I fear you’ll have to wait your turn. The children have been bickering nonstop. I haven’t had a moment to myself all day.” He does not respond, so she opens her eyes. “Kratos?” The water becomes rapid as she sits up at the sight of him. “What happened?”

He trembles. “I have grown cold.”

And she stands, her naked form unapologetically greeting the hot air to be at his side, guiding him down onto a nearby stump. “Kratos,” she repeats, “what happened? Why can’t you heal?”

He takes a moment to find his thoughts. “The sound in the forest was not a troll like Mimir had suspected. It was… a dragon.”

“A dragon? I thought we killed them all after Ragnarök.”

“This one was not native to these lands. It belonged to a blacksmith, who used it for parts. For his weaponry. He cut its horns, removed its claws, plucked its scales… It was caged, tortured, all for the sake of profit. And his children”—he pauses, rage filling him—“treated the creature as if it were their pet.”

Freya leans down, breasts dangling, completely uncaring of her own vulnerable state to care for him. “How horrible.”

He shivers in disgust. “The creature broke out of its cage. And the children…” He takes a breath. “I could not get to them in time.”

She holds him tighter. He clutches her arm. Tears fall. He is not the God he once was, but his past will always come back to haunt him.

“Oh, Kratos… what a terrible thing to witness.”

He responds with a hum. They scream, they burn and he can do nothing. And Atreus’ whereabouts remain unknown. What if… No, he will not let in such thoughts.

“I’ll send word to Sif in the morning,” Freya says. “We will have a trial. Justice will be served.” She steps away, perhaps suddenly realizing how exposed she is, and dons her dressing gown.

He stands. “The cycle continues. It will always continue. A trial will make no difference.”

Her brows raise in disbelief. “It will,” she insists. “You of all people should know—”

“HE DID NOT MOURN!” he tells her, pacing around her. She shushes him. The children are asleep just above them. He continues quieter, “Freya, they were his children. And he did not mourn.”

“What do you want us to do then? Let him go because he doesn’t feel bad about killing his children?”

He looks away, stubbornly. “No—”

“He’s a lost cause. He’s better off dead, is that it?”

“I do not think that.” A younger version of himself might have… No, his younger self would have certainly killed him. There is no question. But he is no longer that God.

“You are letting your emotions take control here, Kratos.”

His fists clench, then release and repeat. She wraps her arms around him in an effort to comfort him and kisses his lower shoulder, despite the blood. Kratos hums at her delicate touch. “And what if his sentencing does nothing?” What if he never mourns?

“We can give consequence,” Freya reminds. “But only he can decide the outcome.”

Her fingers intertwine with the bands around his chest. She releases them from their clasps and his upper armor falls to the ground with a hard clunk. He blinks. “What are you doing?”

“You reek of sweat and blood. What do you think?” He does not understand, but allows her to strip him down. And he transforms into the vulnerable one now, completely naked for all of Vanaheim to see. “You need a bath, Kratos,” Freya tells him when she is still met with confusion. “The water can also assist in healing you.”

She urges him into the tub; he moves back to the stump instead, the screams of his children never leaving his mind. It has been twenty long years since the start of his son’s journey, and he has barely been in contact. “Why has Atreus not returned? Do you think”—he grieves Calliope, but knows not Atreus’ fate—“something has happened?”

“No,” she says firmly, understanding the implication. A fly begins circling him, buzzing radically to get his attention. He blinks in annoyance, but keeps his focus on Freya. “I don’t know where he is but I know he’s not dead somewhere. You taught him better than that.” She crouches so they are eye level, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek. “The Giants have given him a near impossible task. It was never going to be easy. He will return when the time is right. Alive.” She swats the fly away as it settles on his ear. “Now please get in the tub. You are attracting flies.”

Kratos nearly chuckles as he stands. He removes her dressing gown, then guides her back to the bath. “This is your one moment of peace today. I do not wish to take it from you. I will wash in the river.”

She dips her foot in, then her entire leg before stopping. He keeps her balanced with a firm hand. “You know the tub can fit both of us, right?”

“The blood will taint the water.”

She leans in for a kiss before climbing fully in, her hand never letting go of his own. “We can wash in the river after.”

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hockeyandhrsepwr · 1 year

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World Cup Bound

Two Canadian kids attend the University of Michigan for athletics. What happens next?

Owen Power x soccer player!reader

Face claim: Jayde Rivière (Canadian national team & Man United womens team player, graduated from Michigan)

Ynkicksballs

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Ynkicksballs who wore it better? Excited to wear the leaf for the WWC and having a blast here in Aus!🇦🇺 #itsgotime #teamcanada #gdaymate

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C_sinc12 you

Janinebeckie4 you! Miss you

Ynkicksballs we’re missing you😢 get better soon 🫶

Poulin you

CanadaSoccer you! You rock the red & white!

Stephlabbe you

Lhughes_06 you

Umichwsoccer you

Umichhockey sorry big dog but y/n

Brendanbrisson you

Nblanks you

Owenpower_ gee thanks guys

Owenpower_ also babe you cut off 90% of my jersey that don't seem fair

Kentjohnson13 Owen

Ynkicksballs coughs *liar*

Kentjohnson13 😑

Manutdwomen That’s our forward!!

Owenpower_

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Owenpower_ you may have won an Olympic Gold, but you said yes when I asked you out so I think I won the better prize. Happy birthday my love and good luck today!

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Ynkicksballs Ow🥹 l love you so much

Owenpower_ I wish I was able to describe how much I love you ❤️

Ynkicksballs Next year you'll be adding a World Cup to that sentence

juliagrosso Thats right baby!!

Fan26 good luck today y/n!!

Jimmylambert Kick Americas ass!!

Nolan_moyle that’s not nice?

Fan93 isn’t her birthday tomorrow?

Fan88 not in Australia

Umichwsoccer go y/n go y/n!

Sabres we’re cheering you on from buffalo!!

Ynkicksballs

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Ynkicksballs ‘date night’ he says. Let’s play basketball he says at over 6 feet when I’m 5’4. Oh look who’s at the door randomly he says

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Owenpower_ wasn’t it still a fun night thought?

Ynkicksballs would’ve preferred it without the third wheel but yes

Kentjohnson he invited me!

Ynkicksballs to pick something up! Not to stay

Mackie.samo but who won the basketball game?

Ynkicksballs me duh. I may be short but I’m still the superior athlete

Owenpower_ you kept kicking me in the shins until I gave in

Ynkicksballs so?

Ynkicksballs

Liked by Kentjohnson13, umichhockey & more

Ynkicksballs second day of sophomore year, some guy ran into me in the athletics building and needed help finding a room. We kept bumping into each other until he finally asked me out and 3 years later we're both living out our childhood dreams. Happy anniversary O, love you big (🐶)

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Owenpower_ I love doing life with you❤️

Ynkicksballs no one I’d rather do this shit with

Brendanbrisson he talked about nothing but you for weeks

Owenpower_ you were just jealous I’d met her before you (she wouldn’t go for you anyway)

C_sinc12 ah to be young & in love

Fan46 so cute!!

Umichhockey soccer 🤝 hockey

Umichwsoccer power couple right there. Happy to have contributed

Jacobtruscott his sewer game got infinitely better because of you

Owenpower_ lots of keepy uppies were practiced

Kentjohnson keepy uppies is a fun word

Ynkicksballs you’re a very simple man Kent

HockeyCanada Mr & mrs canada

Canadasoccer the Canadian sports couple

#owen power #owen power x reader #Owen power Instagram au #nhl insta edit #hockey instagram au #buffalo sabres #umich hockey #reader insert #instagram au #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey blurb #team canada #woso #jjs insta edits #woso insta edit #womens world cup #sports colliding

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flowerandblood · 1 year

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Sweet kiss, sweet blood (7)

[ dark vampire! • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: kissing, sexual tension, fluff ]

[description: A centuries-old vampire lives in Victorian England, bored and discouraged. His old friend sends him a letter, inviting him to his new country house. Aemond arrives there to rest. Next to the property, there is a small chapel, visited by the faithful. It turns out that at night, a young lady prays in it. Slow burn, sexual tension, profanation, murder, blood drinking.]

I owe the idea for this wonderful series to: @qyburnsghost

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

Miss Whaterfield was furious with herself for ever opening that unfortunate letter. She couldn't sleep because of what she read in it. Because of what he wrote to her, because of the thought that he waited for her in the chapel every night.

This terrifying, bloodthirsty man.

She didn't understand why he wouldn't leave her alone, why he was so insistent that she become his wife. She had the impression that he was constantly mocking her, that he only wanted to humiliate her even more.

She decided not to change her mind. She did not reply to his letter. She began preparing for her departure by sending a letter to a nearby convent with the intention of being accepted.

After a few days, she announced to her father that she had received permission. Mr. Whaterfield took this information with equanimity and a strange, unlike him, satisfaction. He placed his hands on his daughter's shoulders, smiling reassuringly at her.

“I know I've always been strict with you. But today, right now, I'm proud of you. You have found your calling and I am glad that you will dedicate your life to God. It's a great honor for our family." He said and kissed her forehead.

She felt as if her heart would break at the same time from emotion and pain at his words. She desperately wanted to hear it, but not right now, not in this way.

She dreamed of Ser Aemond every day. In her dreams, he would bite her neck, then either kill her or kidnap her, locking her in his castle, making her his slave. On the one hand these dreams terrified her, on the other hand, for some reason when he took her with him or simply killed her, she felt relieved.

On the last evening that she was supposed to spend at her home, she couldn't sleep. She felt her heart pounding hard, she was terrified, but she didn't share her thoughts with anyone.

She didn't know what to do with the fear and grief that writhed like poison in her heart. She felt as if her body and inside were rotting, as if she was lying in a dark, cold dungeon, from which she would never come out.

Pastor Smith took the news of her future entry into the convent with reserve. He could not clearly show his displeasure since she was devoting herself to the service of God, but he made it clear to her father that he did not think she was up to the task. Mr. Whaterfield took great offense at his words, and their relations have cooled since then.

Miss Whaterfield thought that she had said goodbye to everyone, except Ser Aemond. The half-man, half-beast that kept her awake at night. She was furious that she couldn't bring herself to think of him as an unequivocally evil person.

He had done cruel and brutal things to her, and others that made her cheeks burn, but in fact she knew that before he tasted her blood, she was slowly falling in love with him. She would never admit it to him, but when he asked her father so directly for her hand, she felt an explosion of joy in her heart. There is nothing left of it now.

For some reason, she felt that if she left without saying a word she would leave something unfinished in her life forever. She thought that she wanted to say goodbye to him, forgive him like a true Christian and move on, giving her life into God's hands.

She got up, trembling slightly with emotion, putting on a white robe over her night gown which she tied with a ribbon around her waist. She lit a candle and, as she had promised herself, sneaked out of the house for the last time through the back door, heading across the meadow to Ser Criston's park.

She saw from a distance the chapel where she had prayed so often, and in it the light of a candle. She knew it was his sign for her, and she felt a strange painful pang in her heart.

She silently approached the slightly ajar door and paused, trying to calm her pounding heart in her chest. She was afraid, but at the same time she felt an indescribable excitement, a pleasant shiver at the thought of seeing him again. She swallowed hard, plucked up her courage, and walked inside with small, quiet steps.

He smelled her scent before he even saw her. He turned his profile towards her, shocked, then stood up and looked at her, his pale, long face expressing disbelief.

He swallowed hard, and they both looked at each other, standing some distance away, breathing uneasily. His eye showed so many emotions all at once that somehow it touched her. Her throat tightened at the sight of what she might normally mistake for longing.

After a moment, as if he had remembered who he was, he bowed to her, as befitted a man of his status. She nodded, feeling her hands tremble, her candle flame flickering uneasily. Neither of them knew what to say. Finally she heard his low, hesitant voice.

"You're leaving." He said more stating than asking. She pursed her lips at his words, feeling a painful, unpleasant shiver run through her. Her eyebrows quirked helplessly.

"Yes." She spoke softly, almost in a whisper. She saw his body tense, full of tension.

"When?" He asked low, almost casually, but his voice trembled at the end, betraying his desperation. She lowered her gaze, unable to look him in the eye.

"Tomorrow." She whispered. "I came to say goodbye."

There was a dead silence, broken only by the sounds of crickets coming from the park outside. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his hands clench into fists, heard him swallow hard. She wondered if what she dreamed would happen. Will he kill her or kidnap her. Maybe that's why she came to him.

That he would free her.

"If I leave tomorrow, will you stay in Mantfield?" He asked indifferently, she had the impression that there was a note of irritation in his voice. She pursed her lips hearing the tone of his voice.

“No.” She answered truthfully. She looked up at him. She saw him clench his eyelid and mouth shut as he turned his face away, his body tense as a string. She could see that some incomprehensible, unspoken struggle was going on inside him.

"You're wasting your life. Do not do this." He finally said, approaching her confidently. She took a step back, but quickly hit the wall behind her. "If you want I'll help you escape. You will disappear and start a new life in the city, as a governess or shopkeeper, whatever you like. I'll leave you alone and you'll never see me again."

She stared at him in disbelief, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her whole body trembling. It wasn't what she expected, his words took her completely by surprise.

Many times in her life she thought about escaping, she even had a plan, but then she came to the conclusion that without someone's help she would not be able to cope at first. She wondered if God was trying to tell her something now after all.

Aemond saw her hesitation and moved even closer, their bodies almost touching. She looked away from him, her heart pounding, but his cold hand grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. Their faces were millimeters apart. She felt that familiar, wonderful, treacherous tightness between her thighs again, the wetness running down her skin.

"Tell me that you agree. Say you'll come with me to London tomorrow instead of going to the convent. In the letters you will write to your parents that you are in the convent, and we will inform the convent itself that you have resigned. Before they know it we'll be far away." He said excitedly at the thought that she was indeed hesitant. She swallowed loudly, frowning.

"How do I know there won't be more beasts like you, waiting for me in London to eat me alive and drain my blood? How could I trust someone like you?" She asked helplessly, breathing heavily. His face hardened at his words.

"I will not share you with anyone." He said coldly. "I'll be waiting for you tomorrow."

Aemond told her where her carriage would be passing and where she would change. She stared at him in disbelief as he told her point by point what they would do. She had the impression that he had planned this exactly.

He really wanted to kidnap her.

When he finished speaking, she stared at him in disbelief, breathing unevenly, feeling a huge confusion in her head.

She thought she had never felt free in her life. She never did what she wanted. She did not know independence and self-determination. Perhaps that's why, practically without thinking, she blurted out two words after a moment.

"All right."

***

The next morning she awoke with a sense of excitement and terror that she had never known before. She felt like she was going crazy. She kept telling herself that this man was definitely deceiving her again, that he would definitely hurt her and kill her, and that her body would never be found.

On the other hand, she thought that in her marriage to Pastor Smith or in the convent,she would also be dead, only alive.

When she said goodbye to her parents, she and her mother burst into tears. She thought she would never see them again, and when they finally found out that she had escaped they would break down.

She consoled herself with the thought that it would be easier for them to cover up something like that - they could finally say that she was just at the convent all the time and that's why she didn't come to visit. Her father embraced her and kissed her head.

"I am proud of you, child. You are starting a new, wonderful chapter in your life." He said proudly. She thought, wiping her tears that at least he wasn't wrong about that.

As she rode in the carriage, she looked around uneasily, knowing that soon they would reach the crossroads where they were to meet. It was a foggy, cloudy morning. She thought that the weather reflected exactly what she was feeling, the great uncertainty that filled her whole body.

She felt a strong shiver as she saw through the window in front of them a second carriage, with a man in a top hat standing in front of it. When he lifted his head she saw the patch over his eye and pursed her lips, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She slammed her hand against the carriage door.

"Stop!" She shouted to the coachman, and after a while they did indeed stop. She opened the door with a trembling hand and literally jumped out onto the road, staring in disbelief at the white-haired man standing in front of her.

His hair, as always, was tied back with a black ribbon, his clothes all dark, elegant and impeccable. They stared at each other in disbelief, standing a few meters apart.

Taken by some sudden, hot, wonderful feeling, she just ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms, and he wrapped his arms around her, twirling her once.

He took her cheeks in his hands, his cold leather gloves cooling her face pleasantly. He brushed a strand of her hair from her face with his thumb, staring at her with wide eye, his mouth parted in an expression of unspeakable joy, so incongruent with his seriousness and cool manner.

He bent over her, as he had when they stood in the rain. He pressed his forehead against hers, and she could feel them both trembling in excitement and terror, gasping for breath. She placed her hand over his, looking at him in a way she had never looked at any men before. She didn't pull away as he dug greedily into her lips, taking her breath away.

She parted her lips for him, sighing sweetly, letting him caress her. The wet, shameless click of their saliva she heard every time their fleshy, wet lips pressed together, made her shiver again. She closed her eyes, savoring the sensation, letting him do what he wanted with her.

It seemed like forever before he pulled away from her, staring at her with misty eye, his mouth full and swollen with desire. He stroked her cheek and walked towards the driver of her carriage, tossing a bag of coins that jingled loudly in his direction. The coachman caught it, looking at him in surprise.

"For your trouble. I want you to forget that you saw this. You got Miss Whaterfield where she needed to be. Do we understand each other?" Aemond asked coolly and matter-of-factly, and he nodded.

Her baggage was transferred to the other carriage, and the two of them got inside. Aemond closed the door behind them, tapped the window a few times, and they set off along the stone road. They stared at each other with their mouths parted, breathing unevenly.

Unable to take it, she moved to the other side and sat next to him, snuggling into his shoulder, as if she needed physical confirmation that this was really happening. Aemond immediately wrapped his arm around her, hugging her to him, pulling his top hat off his head.

They made themselves comfortable in the seat, her head resting on his shoulder, his cheek against her hair. His hand stroked her steadily, his lips kissing the top of her head tenderly once in a while, making her grip on his shoulder tighter.

Even though she had done something so dangerous, crazy, and damnable, for the first time in her life she felt an overpowering peace fill her body.

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13

Others: @talesofoldandnew

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kodiackwrites · 9 months

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A New Flavour-Wonka X Reader (NSFW?)

Not proofread, we die like real men

It had been a long two months in the basement of Mrs. Scrubitt’s laundry house, All my days had been spent well, scrubbing and cleaning the never ending laundry pile. Life was made a bit easier but the others but, after hearing everyone’s stories and listening to about a million jokes from Chucklesworth, I just couldn’t see any light of the future. That was of course until the light came right through the laundry shoot, Willy Wonka. A young, charming man who, yes had a bit to much enthusiasm but it made things fun. He and Noodle had been off and about most of his time, but he’d spend at least a couple of his days in the basement. But due to his lack of following instructions, he’d found himself with a tear in his coat arm, and a scratch underneath it. “Ow-!” He whined, catching my attention as I stacked a couple folded sheets, “Is everything alright Wil?” He looked up, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, “I caught my sleeve on the edge of the table-“ he responded. I took a few steps over, taking his arm in my hands and looking through the torn material at the wound below, “nothing we can’t fix.” I said with a smile as I found the nearby, dusty, first aid kit. It certainly wasn’t the best but it worked. I dug through it and found gauze, alcohol wipes, and a small roll of medical tape, I helped Will take off his jacket, and rolled up his undershirt. “take a deep breathe, these never feel good.” I said as I brought the wipe to his skin, Quickly and thoroughly cleaning the wound. Before tossing it away, “That was horrible-!” Wil complained, making me smile at his innocent, childlike demeanour. I wrapped his arm tight in gauze and taped it down. “There we go! All patched up,” I said pulling down his sleeve, “What about my jacket?” He asked, a nervous look upon his sweet face, I looked at the coat that lay in his lap, “Just come by my room this evening I’ll get it all fixed,” I paused, rubbing his shoulder, “but for now I do need to get back to cleaning.” I added with a smile,

—

I had just finished threading my needle when wil knocked on my door, “Come in!” I called as I tied the thread. He came in, Putting doen his coat, taking a seat beside me. Making himself quite comfortable, “Thank you for this Y/n, How can I repay you?” He asked as I began passing the needle through the fabric. “Oh Will, it’s very okay! I don’t need repayment.” I said, carefully weaving through the fabric. “But you’ve been so kind, it’s only fair.” He added. I simply shook my head. He sighed before digging in his pocket and placing a small box on the table in front of me, with ‘thank you’ misspelled across it. It made me chuckle as I pushed it aside until I tied off his coat, Handing it back to him, “Thank you Y/n! And please, open the box!” He said warmly, “only if you insist,” I respond, grabbing the small gift once more, pulling off the top to reveal a small bubbly chocolate, with pink and white marble throughout the milky brown colour. “Is chocolate your go to gift?” I asked metaphorically as I brought the sweet to my lips, taking a bite from half of it, the dreamy milk chocolate hit my taste buds, with hints of caramel and marshmallow. It made me feel warm, Safe, no no, it made me feel, I couldn’t even put a name to it if I tried, “do you like it?” Will asked, looking at me with a warm smile, “I love it, it’s perfect, maybe my new favourite.” I responded as I ate the rest, Looking over Wils body, it made me feel warmer, that’s it, that was the feeling. lust. “I have to ask, what kind of chocolate is it?” I asked, making him blush and stutter nervously, “A new recipe I’ve been trying- just a mix of uhm-“ he couldn’t find his words, I slid my hand up his arm, onto his chest, “Mix of perhaps, Want? Lust even?” I asked, my hand sliding down to his abdomen he squirmed, letting out a small breathe, “perhaps- I didn’t mean too I just wanted to- oh~” he let out as my hand slid over his crotch. He was whining and panting like crazy despite barely being touched,

To be continued 🫶

This was totally inspired by someone but I can’t find their @:(

#willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #willy wonka #wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka smut

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helplesslypurple77 · 1 year

Text

Day 5 Atsushi/Dazai w/ forced Proximity(stuck in a closet)

Notes: shut up ik that i already used a closet in the Fyodor one, but in this one the closet is more heavily featured, so there. Slowly but surely “Kinktober” has turned into “AtsushiFuckTober”. Maybe I should do that next year too.

Atsushi was grateful to Dazai, he owed the man his comfortable life, and that was a debt he would never be able to pay.

“Um Mr. Nakajima, please come this way.” A soft, feminine voice at his side, and Dazai was missing again.

He idolized the man of course, and recently, new feelings had been popping up, but for the love of god, he wished the man would quit trying to throw himself into every single body of water they came across. Be it a sink, or a bathtub, as soon as he spotted it, Osamu Dazai would make a break for the water, shouting gleefully about suicide, and Atsushi was rapidly loosing the little amounts of patience he had left.

It didn't help that their companion, a pretty woman by the name of Akari, who had graciously volunteered to lead them to their destination, had to also deal with the fallout. She smiled patiently, even as Atsushi dragged Dazai away from a fucking bathtub, for the hundreth time this evening.

He didnt know what was happening, and why Dazai had suddenly doubled his suicide efforts, and in the middle of a mission of gods sake, but as he dragged Dazai away from the barrely filled bathtub and down the carpeted hall, he bemouned his circumstances.

“I apologize, Miss Akari. He usually isn't this bad.” Miss Akari had to be an angel in disguise, because she just laughed a little, and gripped his arm leading him down the hallway. Dazai trailed behind them, rattling off suicide facts.

“At~su~shiiii~” Atsushi wonders if Dazai has been eating poisonous mushrooms again. “What, Dazai?”

Dazai giggles as they make their way down the chandelier lit hallway. “Did you know that on average, 1 person dies by suicide every 11 minutes in the US?”

“Dazai, we live in Japan.” Dazai ignores him, opening his arms dramatically, his bandages catching the light. “Oh how I long for the sweet embrace of death, how I crave the kiss of the underworld king, summoning me to my final embrace…”

Its weird actually, given how pretty Miss Akari was, Atsushi would have expected at least one invitation for double suicide, or at least a bad pickup line, but nothing, the whole night. It was strange, but Atsushi is just glad he doesn't have to apologize to Miss Akari for anything other than minor inconveniences. Dazai is talking again, but Atsushi tunes him out, instead focusing on the beautiful scenery surrounding them. They walk down a long hallway, lined with gold framed portraits of families. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, and the floor is carpeted in red velvet. The entire place screams money. Atsushi supposes that makes sense, their target is a very rich man after all.

Miss Akari is still clutching his arm, her gloved hands shaking slightly. She's very pretty, with long black hair and big, doe eyes with long lashes, dressed prettily in a pink dress with white gloves. And, given how she's just Dazai’s type, Atsushi seriously would have expected an invitation for double suicide.

‘Your skin is lily white, your eyes captivatingly beautiful, your long dark hair reminds me of the night sky, you would make me a happy man if you joined me on a double suicide.’ or something like that.

And then Atsushi would have to apologize to the poor woman, and she would probably run away screaming, and their mission would be ruined—

“Mr. Nakajima?” Atsushi startled, and sent her a small smile of apology. She continued, her voice as soft as a spring breeze. “I was just wondering about you. I hear you work for the Armed Detective Agency?” It's odd that she's asking about him, but Atsushi guesses she's just curious. He smiles, ignoring Dazai yet again. “Yes, as well as the bandaged idiot behind me.” She laughs, the sound like bells. Atsushi wonders yet again about the strange absence of double suicide invitations. “That must be hard work. You really are amazing!” She pressed close to him, her body pressed against his side, her hands still clutching his arm. She must be scared. Atsushi tries his best to send her a reassuring smile.

“It's not too hard, I'm lucky that I get to work with such amazing people.” She lets out a little giggle, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks up at him. “So, what's your ability? I'm sure it's amazing.” Atsushi laughs a little, she really is a kind person. “It's called Beast Beneath the Moonlight. I can transform into a giant white tiger.” She giggles again, clutching his arm. “Wow you're so strong, I feel so reassured now that i'm next to you.”

Atsushi is glad she feels safe, but then the suspicious lack of loud Dazai noises gets to him and he turns, and of course, Dazai is gone. He turns again, Miss Akari still on his arm. “I'm sorry, I have to find my colleague. Could you wait here for a minute?” She nods, her eyelashes fluttering again and Atsushi sends her a grateful smile. “Thanks, you're an angel.” When he leaves, he sees her leaning against the wall, her hands over her cheeks, smiling.

When he finds Dazai around the corner, once again trying to drown himself in a bathtub, Atsushi lets out a long, suffering sigh. “Dazai, that bathtub has no water in it.”

“Alas, i am simply imagining what it would feel like, the sweet embrace of the water—”

When Atsushi drags him back, Miss Akari is still waiting, like the patient person she is. Atsushi smiles at her as she takes his arm again, clutching it tightly as they walk through the gilded corridors, looking for their target. The faint sounds of music and laughter echo from upstairs, the occasional clink of glassware and silverware barely heard under the cacophony of noise downstairs. It's a dinner party, a family reuniting for a will reading and Atsushi can hear the arguments all the way up here. Miss Akari, a daughter of the dead woman, had requested they come, because she suspected someone would break in and attempt to kill the family, while they were all in one place. The family was an old money family with dealings with the port mafia, and Atsushi had asked why they didn't help but Akari had informed him that they didn't do that sort of thing. It made sense, he supposed.

Right now, they're supposed to be patrolling the upper hallways while the family ate, because Miss Akari was sure the person wouldn't strike until after dinner, when the family gathered for the will reading. She had informed them that she would rather not let the others know, because in her words; ‘there was sure to be a riot!’. And so, they were sneaking around the upper floors of a rich person's house(scratch that, it was basically a castle, Atsushi had never seen so much wealth in his life.) Dodging the occasional stray family member had been easy, but they were becoming more and more frequent as the night went on, the partygoers tiring of the endless arguments and retreating upstairs to the many different entertainment rooms.

“Atsushi?” Miss Akari is speaking again, pulling him out of his brain and back to reality. She leans up, whispering in his ear. She smells faintly of rose petals. “I think someone in my family might be responsible for moms death.” Atsushi feels this isn't something she should tell just anyone, even if she feels they are trustworthy, but he nods along with her anyway.

“You think so?”

☘ ☘ ☘

Miss Akari is the most suspiciously suspicious person Dazai has ever met. I mean it's obvious. Why else would she be hanging off Atsushi like that, stealing Dazai’s rightfully deserved attention. The wench. She was obviously an enemy spy or something like that, hellbent on pulling Atsushi to the dark side! Dazai scowled as they walked down the hall. They were obviously leaving him out like this, whispering and flirting like that, and right in front of his salad(I'm sorry). How dare that Harlot, steal his Atsushi from him.

Dazai scoffed. She wasn't even that pretty. Ok, maybe he was being a tad dramatic. Miss Akari was actually very pretty. She had long straight black hair and dark black eyes, and she was clothed prettily in a nice sunday dress and small kitten heels. And honestly a long time ago she would have been Dazai’s type, but recently he had found himself into people less like Miss Akari, and more like Atsushi. Or rather, he had discovered he was in love with Atsushi.

It was embarrassing and dumb and humiliating and entirely too hard to deny, and if he was being truthful, he was just jealous of that wench. Jealous that Atsushi would let her hang all over him like that. Probably smashing her plentiful bosom and ladylike charms all against him and stealing him from right under Dazai’s nose. And it was highly unlikely she was an enemy spy, she was just an admittedly kind and pretty young woman who was interested in Atsushi, and Dazai hated her for it. There were times, times when his darker days came back to haunt him, times when he got unhealthy ideas like keeping Atsushi locked away, for if he was locked away only Dazai could have the privilege to gaze upon his form. But most of all he wanted Atsushi to be happy, and no one would be happy caged like a decorative bird.

And so, he simply stood back and allowed that Harlot to hang all over Atsushi. But of course, not without the occasional ploy to steal his attention back. But alas, it had seemed Atsushi had tired of his antics, and Dazai had been threatened, in no uncertain terms, to be left behind with the old ladies. And so, he had to be content with watching. For once he was thankful for Atsushi’s dense personality, because although it had screwed him over, it had also screwed everyone else who had approached him too.

Dazai’s love for his subordinate had snuck up on him like a tiger hunting its prey, and then jumped him from behind and completely overwhelmed him. It was even beginning to overtake his desire for a double suicide, wich was a terifying thought. It had been a slow, but steady process but subconsciously he knew he was doomed from the moment he met Atsushi. When he had first opened his eyes, soaking wet on the riverbank, he was sure he had succeeded in his suicidal endevors. For why else would there be an angel hovering above him, highlighted by the setting sun.

Their relationship had been a series of devastating blows delivered under the sunset. For it had been sunset when they had first met, and Dazai had found out that Atsushi was not, in fact, an angel, but a poor orphan boy. He was sure Oda was laughing at him from behind the grave, when he took him in, purely with hidden selfish reasons. Reasons he himself didn't even see when he did it.

The second sunset, on the way back from Ranpo’s case with Atsushi. He had refused to admit he got himself caught in the net to be in Atsushi’s proximity. He had justified it with ‘i just want to watch his progress, and kunikida wont let me,’ but it was obvious to an older and wiser Dazai that he just wanted to be around him. It was embarrassing, but all Dazai could feel was the heat of his body, the close proximity, only a few measly inches between their shoulders. He had longed, subconsciously as he prattle on, to pull the boy close, maybe wind an arm around his thin shoulders.

The third sunset, the one that graced them as they sat on that parkbench, on the day Atsushi figured out the orphanage headmaster had died. And although Dazai had appeared calm and rational, like he always pretended, the mere mention of the man's death had filled him with glee. The extent of the abuse he had subjected Atsushi two filled him with an indescribable amount of rage, that he had always chalked up to protectiveness as a friend. It was apparent that it was not, that the extent of the protectiveness he felt was far and beyond. That was the second sunset, and perhaps maybe the tipping point.

But the third sunset, the sunset on the ship after the defeat of the guild, was the breaking point. As he had nonshalontly raised a glass, and as Atsushi had smiled at him, his eyes mirroring the color of the sunset, his heart had stopped. And then it had resumed, beating triple time against his chest, threatening to leap out completely. He had been overwhelmed by how beautiful the boy across from him was and how desperately Dazai wanted to embrace him, to hold his thin frame close and press kisses to his lips and he had just stopped functioning for a moment.

And that was when he knew, that he was well and truly gone, that he was unequivocally, irreversibly, deeply and truly in love. And then, he had kind of accepted his fate. It was obvious that the affection Atsushi held for him was purely platonic, and even if he had other feelings the boy himself was unaware of them, at least for now. And truly, the boy was terribly, annoying, incredibly dense. Even outright flirting was just brushed off with a laugh and an eye roll, and any physical affection(aside from outright just kissing him) was just attributed to platonic feelings, and Dazai had been about three second from pulling all his hair out and jumping out a second story window, so he essentially gave up. Not completely, he just bided his time and would have to make do with fantasies and daydreams, until the day he decided to take a leap of faith.

But, this harlot was testing his last nerve. She was far too conventionally attractive and although Atsushi didn't seem to notice how hard she was flirting, Dazai was sure that at some point she would give up on subtlety and just ask him out. And then Atsuhsi would blush adorably and accept and then they would start going out and it would be all suffocatingly cute and cuddly and then one day they would get married and Atsushi would of course ask Dazai to be the best man and Dazai’s heart would break into tiny little pieces but he would do it because he would do anything for Atsushi and then they would have little kids who looked like Atsushi and Dazai would grow old alone and sad and have to watch their happily ever after—

“…zai. Dazai. Earth to Dazai!” Dazai pulls himself out of his depressing fantasies and back to reality with a jolt. Atsushi is standing in front of him, noticeably missing the evil harlot Miss Akari, his hands on his hips. Dazai almost skips to meet him, grabbing his arm as they make their way down the hallway. “So, where did Miss Akari go?”

“She had to entertain her guests, remember?” Atsushi regrettably pulls away from Dazai, crossing his arm and coming to a stop. “Really Dazai, she's a really nice woman. You should pay attention to her.” Dazai really will throw himself out a second story window. Watch him, he’ll actually do it, just watch. “Do you like her or something?” He sounds like a middle school boy. Embarrassing. Atsushi smiles. “Yes actually.” Dazai’s heart drops into the pit of his stomach. The boy continues to drive knives into his poor heart. “She’s a very kind woman. And she’s very pretty too. I was sure you would have invited her to do a double suicide with you by now.”

If it were, perhaps, a few months earlier, Dazai definitely would have. But now he’s down bad for his subordinate, who apparently ‘loves’ Miss Akari. He forces a smile, almost choking on actual tears. Embarrassing. “So, when's the wedding?” Atsushi just looks confused. “Wedding?” Dazai might actually cry. “Yeah, Wedding. She’s obviously into you and if you love her back you might as well just get married then.” Atsushi blushes pretty, his pale cheeks turning a dark pink. Dazai wishes he were the cause of that. “What are you talking about! I don't like her like that, I thought you meant if i thought she was nice.” Dazai’s tears are suddenly gone, done choking up his throat and clogging his stomach. “And she’s not into me anyway. People usually aren't ‘into me’.”

‘Me!’ Dazai wants to scream. ‘I'm into you and you are worth it and I want to kiss you please let me kiss you please—’ but he holds it in. He doesn't, however, hold in his gleeful smile. Atsushi gives him a baleful glare. “You could have been nicer to her, and did you really have to try to throw yourself into any bathtub–, no, anything that holds water?” Mood restored, Dazai swings his arms by his side. “Really Atsushi. You’ll never understand the joys of suicide.”

And the rest of the evening is going just wonderfully, it's all just wonderful and sunshine and rainbows really until suddenly Atsushi is grabbing his collar and he's being yanked backward and shoved not so nicely into a closet. Really, he's about to complain, but Atsushi makes an adorable little shushing noise and crowds inside as well, and Dazai hears the sound of footsteps and conversation. And he remembers the only part of the conversation he had listened to, where Miss Akari had told them she didn't want the rest of the family to know she had invited agents. And really, he should be concentrating on what the people walking by the small closet they're in are talking about but the only thing he can concentrate on is Atsushi’s proximity.

It's a small closet, made for sheets and towels, and the lack of space forced Atsushi to press in tight, his back shoving Dazai against the wall. Dazai’s senses are asaulted by the clean scent of green tea and cheap soap and the heat radiating from Atsushi’s back and Dazai is simultaniasly cursing and praising whatever fucked up god got him into this position because his pretty subordinate is pressed against him and all his fantasies are coming back to haunt him.

Atsushi is shorter than him, about two or three inches, and his frame is smaller. Dazai’s body almost cages him in, even with his arms pinned to his sides in what little space they have, and it's frighteningly arousing. Dazai’s nose is shoved in his hair, Atsushi’s back lines up with his chest and most damning of all, his but presses directly on Dazai’s dick. People are walking by the room, and Dazai knows it definitely isn't the time to get hard, so he puts all impure thoughts to the back of his mind for now.

Really, he should take advantage of this opportunity, and he does. He wraps his arms around Atsushi’s frame pulling him closer even still, and allowing himself to hug the boy their warmth blending together. And it feels wonderful and comforting and like all is right in the world, until Atsushi squirms, grinding his ass back directly on Dazai’s clothed dick. Dazai’s hands drop like a hot stone, shooting to his side as he tries to separate himself from Atsushi, to no avail. Because now all those times he had arrived after a fight to see Atsushi laying face down on the ground, his cute little ass on display for Dazai(and the world). And he didn't know why the boy insisted on landing in this position every chance he got, but it was truly a strange(sexy) position. For every time he did that all Dazai could think about was that position in a different context, maybe something with one hundred percent less clothes and it was all coming back to haunt him.

For some reason the people outside the closet have insisted on talking like three feet away from the closet doors, and not moving and now Dazai knew his dick was at least semi hard and he was never going to recover from this one—

“Dazai?” Atsushi has turned around to whisper, and now it's almost worse because their faces are a two measly inches away from each other, breaths tangling together and Atsushi’s eyes are breathtakingly beautiful. “Dazai, do you have something in your pocket, its poking against me.” Oh now this is just lovely. He's taking to long to respond and Atsushi’s going to get suspicious. “Yes actually. A gun.” Atsushi rolls his eyes. “It's not a gun, that's not what a gun feels like.” Fuck. “Jesus Dazai, what is it? Is it something your not supposed to have?” He’s still whispering, but now he looks slightly panicked. “Did you bring a random knife or prescription pills on missions again? You know Kunikida’s going to kill you.” This conversation should be killing him hard on but it's still there, and harder than ever. Dazai hates himself.

His lack of response seems to be worrying Atsushi because now, to his horror, Dazai feels his hand trying to get in between their bodies. He grabs it, trying to hold him away from his overeager dick. Atsushi frowns, whisper yelling at him. “Dazai, lemme see it!”

“Don't worry about it, Atsushi!” This, obviously, does not deter him.

“Now I'm even more worried!”

As much as he would like Atsushi’s hands all over his dick, he really would prefer different circumstances and so he thoughtlessly grabs the boy's wrist, pinning them above his head. It's almost worse this way. Their faces are close together, breaths intermingling again, and to Dazai’s satisfaction, he sees the blush spreading across Atsushi’s cheeks. It's visible even in the dark closet as the boy evades his eyes, blush furious across his pale skin. Dazai can't resist the urge to tease him.

“My Atsushi, what’s got you so flustered?” The boy glares, all while that cute little blush is still plastered across his face. “Shut up Dazai.” And so, Dazai seels his lips with a kiss.

...

End Notes: I always headcanoned that Atsushi is oblivious to flirting because of his low self esteem lol. A pretty girl could be hanging off his arm, telling him how amazing he is and stuff and he would go ‘haha lol she's so kind.’ or ‘haha lol she must be scared.’ also i'm tired of writing full smut so here you go, half smut

Taglist: @mulit05ho3st4n

#bungou stray dogs #dazatsu #bsd smut #bungo gay dogs #stray dogs smut #mariannacrxss #helplesslypurple77Kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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just2bubbly · 9 days

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If we weren't meant to be together, why did we have to meet and fall in love? Kaider angsty

Masterlist / ao3

i actually had fun writing this, and that's not what i expected (no offence anon), don't get me wrong, I have written a lot of kaider angst revolving around the same storyline, so it has become somewhat dull now. i was supposed to write this for 'i miss you' prompt in the #tlcshipweek24 but with my assignments and lack of any commitment i just couldn't- BUT YEA THAT'S NOT THE POINT

i might have sorta convinced myself to wring a self-indulgent 5k words fic, cuz why not, the angst doesn't start intially, so if you are looking for the hard hitting lines, anon, you would have to scroll down a little, but that's all from my side, I hope you like it! <3

Let Me Let You Go

Words: 5.3k

Cinder's Perspective:

"Lunars and Earthens, we have the Lunar Queen in the house, Miss Selene Blackburn, revolutionary and New Beijing city's most talented mechanic. All of us owe the peace and perhaps our lives too to her! So let's give it a big round and be active as we discuss Miss Blackburn, before, after and through the years!"

The host announces as she walks onto the stage, lights flashing all around, until they come to focus on her.

Cinder flashes her methodic grin to the cameras, neither too cheerful nor too dull, the right amount of happiness that allows people to imagine she is satisfied with their work.

The bright glaring white light almost blinds her, unable to look around much but the quick blackout soothes the burn. Some newbie guides her to a seat, and she sits across from the infamous Natalie Sahoo, popular all around for the digital hype she starts. Cinder wouldn't pertain to entirely helpful when standing in the limelight.

The plush leather chair smells rich against the disinfectant-smelling space, and a few leather knots hanging around the corners help her calm her nerves. Pulling at the strings, she gives her fingers something to hold on to, as she would unnecessarily be asked about her life and beyond.

Cinder can't fathom how she has managed to get convinced to sit before a podcast, wearing a dress shirt and box skirt that Iko says makes her look ethereal, that would be watched by millions if not billions of people.

"You speak highly of me, Sahoo. I didn't come from any moral high ground, just a simple girl trying to break out." Cinder spoke once the camera blinked green, to show they were being recorded. She had turned off her inner screen, not wanting to get distracted by any notifications and comments that would be made during this interview.

Mrs Sahoo smiles, as reporters do when they find a slip-up. Cinder wonders if all the training Iko has enforced on her, will help prevent a scandalous rumour.

"Speaking of a simple girl, there is little known of your life before the revolution. The Linh family had adopted you, but there isn't much to say. Your schooling, high school sweethearts, the cybernetics - it all seems to add mystery to your character."

"Oh, no mystery at all," Cinder mimics, "There weren't any interesting things going around then, I had a mechanic shop on Prickett Street and spent most of my time there. I was 16 when the universe decided to intervene with my life, there weren't any romantic interests to pursue during that," Cinder elaborates, the lies in her latter words evident.

Everyone in this room knew about the romantic prospects of Kai and Cinder during the revolution, it had been a global scandal back then, The Commonwealth Emperor in love with a fugitive. However, Cinder wasn't going to be made a fool, entrapped with talks of sweethearts and lovers, into talking about her life's torn tapestry.

"So it seems, there had been much speculation about your adopted family being abusive, where they cut down your schooling, even tried to draft you in being one of those experiment rats. How would you say have these actions defined you in the future?" Sahoo asked, cleverly bypassing the agreement she had signed before, prohibiting her from indulging in a list of topics Cinder wasn't comfortable with. However, having asked a question about childhood, without the explicit mention of the Linhs, ensured her security over a sue.

Cinder won't hold the question against the agency, having never talked about her life with the Linhs, there were many speculations and Adri and Pearl's mouths were shut with the agreement drawn between them.

This interview gave her a chance to clear the air around her upbringing, and Cinder was bound to provide something to keep Sahoo backing away from the topics that did hurt.

One would know, how much Cinder hated to talk about the Linhs, having given them a fortune to spend the rest of their lives rolling on cash, they weren't keen on showing much grace.

"Garan had decided to bring me to New Beijing, he never made me feel inferior for my cybernetics. He was more of a scientist at heart, I would later learn that he had adopted me only to test with the bioelectric manipulation security system now in use.

The Linh family was quite fair until his tragic loss, and the whole dynamic changed later. 3 kids in a household with no real income, pushed Miss Adri to be very upset over things, and the fact that Garan hadn't any coverage spoiled her mood further.

My younger sister Peony and Iko, were the nicest things that happened to me in that household. Times had been tough with Leutomosis and poor employment opportunities, and even when that doesn't justify being cruel to a child, I have moved past the turmoil of it all. However, my early experiences have taught me to be kinder and more compassionate towards the underprivileged. Also, it somehow helped me not tolerate bullies in the Lunar Court under my term."

"That is much like the famous line, 'Heroes can't choose to look on the dark side, everyone else does it for them'. I think I will speak on behalf of everyone when I say that optimism is all that we want in our lives."

Cinder smiles ruefully at her, thinking over how people want a peaceful life without any traumatic experiences to overcome. There's no need for sorrow to follow you until you punch it in its face and stop lamenting, to be applauded.

There's a call by someone, and many 'cut' shouts are heard as the cameras stop rolling. A small break, it seems, and Cinder can't help but sigh in relief, all the questions about her lack of proper upbringing and life led to a feeling of dread, self-consciousness even.

The make-up artist approaches her, asking if she wants to touch up anything, but Cinder declines. If Iko isn't marching in this room asking for a change, Cinder is up to good. However, in reflex, she scratches against her neck, fidgeting with the cold jewellery chains.

They are back again within minutes, as Sahoo starts talking about the revolution, but there is nothing out of the blue. In all her prior interviews, they always wanted to know about her feelings during the moments of doom, if she had felt afraid, if the possibility of her death had ever crossed her mind, and whether controlling the newfound Lunar abilities had been a problem. She had become used to the monotony by then, answering everything with no new addition as such, until Sahoo decided that she wanted to ask for something more of Cinder.

"- the kidnapping, was it so easy to breach inside the Emperor's chambers and then take him hostage?" Sahoo asks, a jolly tone to her question as if suggesting that The Eastern Commonwealth had no regard for their Emperor's security.

"The implications you are trying to make, Natalie, can get you in deep trouble with the Commonwealth," Cinder cautions, a chuckle follows, "- taking the Emperor wasn't an easy feat like you made it to be. The post-hostage scenario, however, was pretty straightforward, since Ka- I mean, the Emperor was willing to be an accomplice to our plan. One can understand, his disdain for his marriage to Queen Levana."

Cinder replies, mentioning Kai's name in this interview was out of the question, thinking how she possibly had just handed Natalie Sahoo the opportunity she so adamantly had been looking for the last hour.

She smiled, hoping it didn't look like a grimace, and worried where this interview would end. The media house had all rights to stream this content, without considering any requests from Cinder.

Not to mention, Cinder couldn't stay shut for any questions, as that would result in many raised eyebrows and more speculations, which would feed the gossip columns for weeks if not months.

"-Now that you do mention, His Majesty, we hope to know more about your friendship." Sahoo smiles, somewhat evil, as she says 'friendship'.

"Will that stir a problem?" She asked, almost hungrily, as her lips perched against each other.

Cinder shakes her head, trying to curb the heartbeat that had been off to some mile sprint now, not letting the interviewer's words get to her.

She isn't known to give many one-on-one interviews, Sahoo would want to have something engaging from her that will make the show a sensation, and Cinder knows, she is doing her first interview since her break-up with Kai, he is married now, and it's obvious that they want to know what went so wrong between the two.

"Very well, Miss Blackburn, we have a few rumours running around for a while, the Emperor doesn't talk much, so we hope you are more resourceful!" Sahoo says, a wink thrown in her direction, doesn't help the churn of anxiety uphoarding inside her stomach.

"You have to be more specific darling, I have got quite a few of them," Cinder jokes, trying to throw the stress off her, if Natalie believes that she isn't crawling under her skin with the spotlight and unsettling questions, that would be enough.

"- the one about you having manipulated the Emperor, trying to play good unlike some other Queen, but he was-"

"A lie," Cinder hisses, before she can complete the statement, not wanting to put manipulation and Kai into the same sentence.

She imagines having used her charm to drill the words around as she sees a few willing nods around the room. The dread she felt seconds ago, has vanished and anger bloomed in its place.

"Why so ever?"

"Because it is," Cinder says, words stressed at the ending, giving a sense that there's no argument to be had, however, her companion isn't so accommodating to her demands as she counters.

"Perhaps an elaboration to make it seem more believable?"

"That rumour is a lie, and I'm not going to justify some baseless accusations, because people are too blind. Hence, you could move down a few questions, unless that's all for the day," Cinder asserts, making her position clear, she might not have much choice of answers, but she was not going to be toyed around for amusement.

For all that people have to say, Cinder wouldn't tolerate speculations about manipulating Kai. It always left her feeling like someone had smudged her with bright neon sketch pens, left behind undone as the painter got tired before completing their work.

"-that won't be the problem, Miss Blackburn. Perhaps a short break could do us good," Natalie suggested, her words bringing Cinder out of her train of thought.

"As much the idea is appealing, I'd decline. With all disposed of respect, I'd rather end our time sooner, to meet prior commitments obviously," Cinder mentions, the words filled with masked disdain.

The tight-lipped smile that Natalie puts on at the remark, feels like a balm, a reality check to her, Cinder might not hold much power before the screen but she has been a Queen for years, and had been taught well to use her words to her advantage. From the very best.

"It won't be long," Natalie says, skimming through flashcards, as she mentions a few sponsors, "-we would like to talk about where you see yourself, in the future, perhaps, in a sense of legacy?"

Cinder hadn't thought about the future much, taking things as they came made her feel less alarmed about things around her. She worked in a job that made a difference, with a long-standing fortune, so there wasn't much to crib over.

"I have more than what I'd wanted when I was 16, so that sense of fulfilment keeps away thoughts of plans. Speaking of legacy, being the revolutionary and Lunar Queen has given a permanent spot in the history books. I'm content with that, but what I would like is to continue to make a difference in the inter-habilitation of Lunars and Earthens, along with giving the deserved merit to cyborgs."

"That is immense, we have all seen the reforms put into place after your coronation, and we desire Star's glory for you, but we hoped to learn more of personal plans?" Natalie explained, looking genuine, for the first time throughout the entire period.

"My life is a public affair, whatever do you mean?" Cinder asked, puzzled at the remark.

"Perhaps a beau, marriage?"

At that Cinder has to visibly hold back a laugh, a partner sits last on her list of wants, and she wishes to keep it like that, at least for some time.

One excruciatingly painful heartbreak is enough for her 20s, she thinks, as she answers, "Well, I'm not quite fond of the idea of commitment, for a while, don't think I have found someone worth settling down for!"

But what if she had?

NO! She won't be going down that path again, forcing all introspections of her regrets and guilts and mistakes mixed.

"-and can we say it's because of some black-haired royal?" The host implies, that sparkle in her shows exactly how contended the reference has made her.

Precisely.

A scoff mildly hidden with a tight-lipped smile embraces her features, saying the very name she had forbidden herself from uttering, "Kaito, or as I know him, Kai, has influenced a lot of things in my life, and I couldn't ever be thankful enough for his help navigating through my early years as the Lunar Queen. Kai is always going to be someone that was meant to be in my life, not necessarily as a partner, perhaps a friend, I haven't quite figured it out yet. So Kai isn't stopping me from living my life, it's the inevitable loss of a future I'd imagined that keeps me at bay," Cinder answered, unable to hold her words, once she started talking about Kai.

Praying she hadn't used any loose words that could lead to speculating troubles.

'Kai, is always going to be someone that was meant to be in my life,' Cinder had said, but Kai wasn't part of her life anymore.

He had a wife, who probably despised the utterance of her name, Cinder didn't hold the thought against her. To think that your husband married you because it was the only possible thing in the cards would sour anyone's mood- however, Cinder doesn't know that for sure and doesn't know if Kai married Daiyu because it was realistic or for love.

The thought leaves a haunting chill deep in her bones, as she questions, whether Kai truly loved Cinder.

The small gestures, and gift exchange through Thorne, or endless time spent trying to find excuses for an inter-galactic excursion couldn't all be fake, she believes, they were too elaborate- no one would want to help her find her favourite colour and learn the symbolism behind it, all in vain to leave a gaping hole in their absence, it's too much of an absurd idea, Cinder thinks.

Kai might have been a born diplomat, and sometimes he didn't do what he meant, but he wasn't a liar, Cinder couldn't recall all the time he had told her he loved her.

Not many times obviously, she thinks, trying to keep the scowl off her face.

On nights, when she failed to sleep, she wondered, whether Kai had still kept her prosthetic leg, stored in some corner of his office, or if he had discarded it because it was too much explanation for Daiyu-

"Miss Blackburn?" Natalie asked, hands hovering everywhere, as she touched her arm, shaking Cinder out of her reverie.

"Oh, yes, forgive me, I got lost in thought," Cinder said, clearly shaken, pulled against the chair, gulping down the glass of water offered.

"Oh, as I said, now that you brought up your shared history with His Majesty, our interests are peaked. Perhaps, curious enough to know what led to your ultimate downfall," Sahoo asks.

Cinder has to stop herself from going rigid, having anticipated this question while signing the media agreement.

She looks around, trying to see if Iko is still in the room with her, but isn't able to look beyond the bright glare of the camera, and the room afterwards is too dark for any visibility.

Cinder wonders if she begged Natalie to stop opening her wounds, which she had tried too hard to keep hidden, will she give her the dignity to leave, then reminds herself that Sahoo is a media person, they are the most inhuman creatures to exist.

"Would it be too dramatic, if I said fate?" She says, trying to aim for a joke, that lands well, from the laughs that burst in the already tense room.

"I don't know what you expect, there's no scandal or rumours that led to our fallout. It was more gradual like dust being laid on countertops, where you don't notice it until your hand is painted black at the slightest contact. We realized that with both of our responsibilities and titles, a future that found a balance between the two was becoming fatalistic as we grew older. The realization, with all its disappointments that followed, was the moment when I knew, it wouldn't survive."

And it didn't.

Cinder keeps the latter part to herself, having withheld the information of the prejudices the Commonwealth Court held against her, it wasn't that the future was looking bleak that hurt, it was knowing that Kai had believed that convincing everyone would be impossible, and ultimately had failed to uphold his promises to her that had been the problem.

Kai had convinced her for years that he would marry her, and her Lunar origins or cybernetics wouldn't pose a threat.

The distance between them only managed to get larger as he continued to fail to gain support for their marriage, he avoided facing her with his shoulders drooped low in dread, and the comms were intercepted by Torin, informing her about his absence, later their excursions became fewer, as Court representatives were being sent in the place of The Emperor.

Cinder wasn't blind to the signs, which led to the uneventful night on her Peace Ball to New Beijing.

"Cinder," Kai whispered, as she entered his suite, jumping into his bed, as she discarded her slippers. Cinder couldn't fathom why they cleared a suite for her visit when they knew she would spend all her time with Kai.

"Stars, I missed this smell, that hoodie you gave me didn't even last a month," She yearns, diving deep into the sheets, trying to envelop herself in the scent of Kai.

Her bliss doesn't last long, as she realizes that Kai hasn't joined her, blinking one eye open, she finds him fiddling as his fingers pull at the hair, "What?"

"Uh, nothing," Kai lies, and she knows it without looking at the blink of the orange light against her screen, 10 years into loving someone, you know.

She nods, leaving her very comfortable position, and says, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"But I need to," he pleaded, heading towards the back of his room, and his erratic breathing pattern made her follow him as she came to stand behind him.

"Are you ok?" She asks, squeezing his shoulders, concerns heightened, not wanting anything to keep him so disheartened.

"You should take a seat," Kai advises, pulling a chair for her, and the action confuses her more than providing comfort.

Cinder stays quiet, giving him the space to find the courage to talk, and in the meantime, she rubs her thumb on the back of his hand, offering support, not quite realizing that she would need it soon.

"This," Kai begins, his desk holograph shows a large copy of some file named 'Council Report',"- is the Council's opinion on us, or rather you," he states, making Cinder consider if it would have been better to stay in the suite the Commonwealth is so adamant to book for her.

"-and this is the woman they want me to marry," Kai says, turning to a picture of some women in white coats and pants. Her retina scanner gives her adequate information, majorly being that she is Chen Daiyu and her father is a Zulan Military General, who has connections in high places, the prospect will offer monetary gains to the industries under the General.

"And you want to tell me this because?" She questions, already having imagined the answer to it.

"I don't know," Kai murmurs, head hung low, and the sight causes something in Cinder to shatter, dropping his hand, she pulls herself up, and hisses, "You want me to make what I want to out of that statement?"

"What is there to make of it?"

"That you want me to make the choice, because you don't want the guilt eating you up!" Cinder exclaims, her body heating up with the anger building in her chest.

"What?! You can't throw in charges when you know how hard I have been trying to get the future we envisioned," Kai rasps, rising above to meet her eyes, but she is too damned to look out for poetic incidents.

"Definitely not enough, because this picture and that file says it!"

"I didn't want to keep you in the dark-"

"About what?! That I could find rumours about you cheating on me with some woman the Council approves?" She screams, knowing well how out of line her words are, but the hurt and the pain that is being constricted with each pump of blood in her heart makes her forget about her senses.

Cinder knows that Kai isn't also happy about it, but right now all she wants to do is hurt Kai like he had with the news.

"That's enough," Kai bellows, standing inches away from her, fingers pressed against her jaw, and had it not been for their situation, Cinder would have leaned in for a kiss, make-up with kisses sprawled across his torso for apologies, instead she turns, only for his hand to pull her back.

She thuds against his chest, all efforts to get out of his hold in vain, as he tilts her head and vows, "I will never cheat on you. Sit and we can talk like adults."

Her anger was somewhat tamed by the words or possibly his cologne which distracted her enough to sit across from him and talk calmly, nevertheless, it didn't stay like that for as long as she started.

"You can't marry me," Cinder states, the words she had overthought for months didn't seem like a ridiculous scenario now but rather a concrete problem that might cost them their future together.

"I told you that the Council is against the idea not-"

"Exactly what I said, you can't marry me." She cuts him off, uttering the word again. Repeating the word doesn't subdue its impact.

Kai sighs, fingers twitching away a headache and the action punches her in the gut, the full implication of her words hitting her. She believes that the room is swirling around her and the only person that will try to make it stop cannot do it.

"Cinder, I didn't want it to come to this."

"I know, Kai. I know that you want to marry me, but you can't and hence you won't."

"That is not tr-"

"Kai," Cinder croaks, "I might not see you every day but I'm not blind. I know when things become inevitable," having said it she locks her eyes, the burning sensation in her throat prevents her from speaking further.

She senses the warm palm covering her face and leans into the contact, Kai is staring sharply into her eyes, the intent evident in his copper brown eyes, as he swears, "I will not let you go."

"You don't get it, do you?" Cinder sniffs, "You did let it go when you came with the portrait of that woman."

His forehead fell against hers and Cinder could feel the salty water drops fall on her cheeks, that's all that it required for the stabbing headache to come in full course, but she didn't mind it.

She pulled her arms against Kai's neck, and found herself in a tight embrace, fingers gripping on his shirt, as she clings closer that it feels like sitting in his lap.

The long list of warnings asking her to remain calm angers her further as she shuts her eyes, forcefully shooing the flashing signs away. Kai heaves, shoulders shuddering with the raw emotion, and buries his face in the crook of her neck, fabric dampening with the tears, as he whispers apologies.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please. I'm so fucking sorry."

"I know. It's ok. Breathe Kai. Yes, I know. Breathe."

And once both of them had got some resemblance of calm, he pulled back, palms rubbing his eyes, his face having lost all of its colour looked lifeless. Cinder gazes at the gigantic dampness of her shirt, the cold is welcome against her excessive body heat.

"I didn't want it to come to this," Kai croaked, breaking the silence mixed with their sniffs.

Cinder sadistically smiles at that remark, unable to find the words, she decides to be blunt, "But we are here."

"What are we going to do?"

"What they want you to do." Cinder whispers, making Kai twist his body towards her, visibly shocked at her words, she stops his argument before it begins.

"I know you tried, Kai. I want you to admit it to yourself and let us go. I will make that decision for you. This is all that we get in this lifetime."

"But what if I want more than this?"

"Then you make amends with your heart, Kai. Because what you want isn't going to happen."

"Cinder, please," Kai rasps, hands reaching out for her, but she is quick to move, and the hurt that flashes in his eyes would haunt her for months to come.

"It's been going too long, Kai. Listen to the Council this time, meet with Daiyu, but don't let her father manipulate you," Cinder advises, getting up to move, but her feet get rooted to the ground as she takes in his suite, for one last time.

"What thought brought you here tonight, Cindy?" Kai asks, his nickname for her causes unimaginable pain, the casual tone makes her forget about the horror around her.

"That I missed you, and wanted to wake up to find you staring," Cinder exclaims, too quickly, the time before she entered his suite, seems ages ago. So much seemed to change, in such a short time, and Cinder would give anything for it to stay the same.

One glance at the grief-stricken Emperor and she realizes, he is tongue-tied. Ever the diplomat Kai, who taught her how to give speeches and stress the right words to officials, is at the loss of words because he doesn't know what to say to her, but then he manages to find it in him to find the right words again.

"If we weren't meant to be together, why did we have to meet and fall in love?"

"I don't know, Kai. I don't think I will ever know." Cinder replies and her feet find their way out, and just before she slams the door on their shared future, she informs, "I will ask Marcus to do the intended work in my absence. I'd leave early for Luna tomorrow. I don't-" Her words cut short, before she whispers, "Goodbye, Kai," and shuts the door.

"-do you want to reapply your makeup, ma'am?" Someone asks her, shaking her awake. Cinder nods, not wanting to look tense in the light of her recent memory occurrence. There's been no signs of body overheating, so she takes it as a relief.

"Well, Miss Blackburn, a few more questions and we will cut it?" Natalie asks, coming forth with her assistant, Cinder nods, murmuring a few words of approval.

The lights flash up again, and the green light shows they are back on recording. Cinder makes a note to never sign up for interviews again, for whatever reason, and for the last time puts on a dazzling role to make everyone believe she is having a good time.

"Very well, Lunars and Earthen, we are here with the last segment of our shared time with Miss Blackburn. This would involve a few questions from our audience," Natalie says, as a card is handed over, "Our very first being, having made such diverse friends during the revolution, do you feel that the distance hinders your friendship?"

"Uh, I don't think drifting friendship has been a problem for us, and that is not denying that I'm closer to some than others. We have yearly visits, and group chats that keep us updated on each other's life, so the distance isn't much of a problem. However, it would have been fun to live closer and meet more often than we do," Cinder answers, thinking fondly about the Rampion Crew, she has grown to love more than anything.

This friendship would not be something that would be taken for granted, especially the one of Thorne, her heartfelt response would likely be followed by a teasing comm afterwards.

"How wonderful to have friends that make you feel seen even with the distance," Sahoo coos, and for once Cinder agrees with her.

"Our next one, uh oh, I hope you don't mind this one, Miss Blackburn!"

Her remark confuses Cinder, but the follow-up question makes room for much misery.

"-what would you say about relationships that do not lead to permanent commitment?"

"I don't think what I say will sit well with many, I spent over 10 years of my life loving someone, and that did not lead to anything. But that doesn't make all the time shared worthless. Sometimes you find someone you would want to spend your entire life with, but you cannot- and when you reach that point, you find out whether you love that person so much that you can let them go, and find solace in watching them live a life you wanted to share with them."

Her words remind her of the question Kai had asked her, 'If we weren't meant to be together, why did we have to meet and fall in love?' and this time she knows the answer to the puzzle that had been sitting on her mind for long.

"Cut," the head cameraman yells, and Cinder notices Iko walking towards her, and announces, smiling cheekily as she flings her dark purple hair, looking almost apologetic, "Natalie, I hate to cut it short, but Selene needs to be elsewhere."

The scowl of disappointment that Natalie gives Iko, is taken well by her bosom friend, as she frowns, allowing a compromise of a show closure.

It's a small affair, over within minutes, Cinder thanks everybody around before she follows Iko out, knowing well that she hadn't had anything waiting after the interview.

"What was that?" She asks, hurrying into the small lobby of the hotel.

"I looked into the audience questions, most of them were about Kai. I intervened because I didn't want you to be cornered into answering anything you weren't comfortable with," Iko explains.

Cinder wants to hug Iko so tightly that she chokes on the embrace, instead side-hugging her frame as she whispers a 'thank you'.

"Do you think he would watch this?" Cinder asks as they wait for their pod to arrive, thinking what Kai will make of her words.

"If he is confused like you were, maybe he should. Nonetheless, his media person would convey the gest," Iko mutters.

She catches on to the past tense in her dialogue but chooses not to comment, knowing that if Iko is convinced, maybe it's time she should be too.

taglist: @gingerale2017 @slmkaider @impossiblesuitcase @kaiderforever @fangirlforever0704 @cinderswrench @salt-warrior

thanks for reading!!

#tlc ship weeks 2024 #kaider #tlc #lunar chronicles #asks #marissa meyer #cinder #fanfiction #just2bubbly fics #kai #kaito #kaider ship week #prince kai #kaider fanfics #angst #writing

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earth-unicorn · 10 months

Text

Ruby read over the note for the 4th time. It stuck to the front of her apartment door.

An eviction notice? But I just paid my half of the rent yesterday.

Ruby reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She scrolled through her contacts. Mr Port. The man who ran the apartment complex she lived in. He'd be able to give her answers.

Hello.

Um Mr Port, it's Ruby.

Ah Miss Rose I assume you're calling about the eviction notice.

Yes sir.

Well you failed to make this month and last month's payment.

But sir, Em had told me that she delivered the payments to you herself.

I'm sorry but I never received any payments from Miss Sustrai.

What?

Again I'm sorry. I sent you guys multiple notices about late payments but you never answered them.

I never saw them.

I gave them directly to Miss Sustrai. If she didn't show them to you then it sounds like she wasn't that good of a roommate.

Ruby pulled her keys out of her pocket.

Have you changed the locks yet?

No not yet. You still have 1 day to move all your stuff.

Ok thank you.

Ruby ended the call. Entering the apartment she gasped. The living room was completely empty. Checking the rest of the house she found almost every room empty except for the bathroom.

Why Em?

Her room was empty except for a box that was filled with a few of her personal belongings. Attached to the box was a note.

Ruby

I can't stay here any longer. I need to move on with my life. I can't do that here. I'm sorry but I'll be moving in with my friend Mercury. I went ahead and took everything from the apartment as payment for all the money I gave you. Don't worry you no longer owe me anything.

Emerald.

Em you took everything.

Ruby picked up her stuff. She made her way out of the apartment, dropping her keys off at the front.

Miss Rose, you don't have to leave tonight.

Thank you Mr Port but it's better that I do. There's nothing left for me in that apartment.

Ruby turned and left the building. Walking down the sidewalk.

I should've bought a car when I had the chance.

Ruby pulled her phone from her pocket. She scrolled through her contacts, stopping on Yang Xiao Long. It rang for a bit with no answer.

Come on Yang. Answer.

Hey what's up. You've reached Yang Xiao Long. I'm not picking up because I'm either ignoring my phone or having fun with my GF. Please leave a message and I'll call you back.

Hey Yang, it's Ruby. Call me back when you get the chance. I need to talk to you. It's important.

Drip.

A drop of water landed on her head.

Shit. It wasn't supposed to rain today. Just my luck.

Ruby sighed.

I have to find shelter.

————

Rain poured from the sky, drenching the streets, grass, and Ruby. She hurried through the wall of rain splashing down on her. Pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders to block out the chilling air.

Fuck me!

The sound of a slowing vehicle drew her attention. A white car with a blue snowflake design across the front. The passenger side window lowered.

Ruby, is that you?

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #emerald sustrai #bumbleby #whiterose #rwby au #greenlight volume 10

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headfullofpresley · 2 years

Text

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 4K

Summary: After doing Vogue's “Life in Looks” and reminiscing on your life with Elvis and Caroline, your late husband makes sure you and your daughter know he's still around.

Warning(s): life after losing a spouse, lil bit angsty, inaccurate timelines etc, doesn't follow timelines of other fics including Caroline, set in the late 90s bc i felt like it (just pretend life in looks is on tv or smth lol), reminiscing about a deceased spouse, flashback, bit of spiritual stuff (i still wanted him to be in this lol ☻), Elvis' death is not described here or whatsoever.

A/N: so, i usually never write about elvis not being among us anymore but ofc... i got carried away. the ending is kinda silly, but i thought it was cute. this was requested by my dear @rosepresley and even though it turned out a little different, i hope you'll still enjoy it, love! <3

masterlist

While your husband was known to the world as The King and many other titles, to you he was just Elvis.

Even though the anniversary of his death ticked on twenty years now and you had given the loss a place, there wasn’t a day that you didn’t think about him or didn’t miss him.

Caroline was only nine when her father passed and even though nobody would ever forget him, you and your now twenty nine year old daughter worked hard to keep his legacy alive.

While still living at Graceland, which felt a lot emptier without your husband there, you’d make sure events would be held on the property which fans could be a part of – the Christmas lights ceremony during the holidays, sometimes even small concerts held for charities right in your front yard. At times, fans would still linger outside the gates–mostly on the day he had passed or during his birthday week–and you could spend hours out there talking to them.

While you weren’t always happy with the lack of privacy when being out with Elvis or having fans outside your house in the dead of the night, you felt like you owed the attention to them now. You were aware that you didn’t, but these were the people that loved when you talked about the man they looked up to – probably more than anyone.

Aside from that, you were still being asked for interviews and press as well. You loved talking about Elvis and your life with him, but you were still careful as to who exactly you told those stories to – you had declined enough interviews and TV specials in the past, as did Caroline, because you were both aware how the media could twist your words and make up their own story which they knew would sell better.

When Vogue asked you for their ‘Life in Looks’ series, you were doubtful at first. This meant you’d have to talk more so about yourself rather than Elvis, but Caroline reminded you how much you loved fashion and Vogue in particular. You had a trusty subscription of the magazine, getting most of your inspiration from it when it came to your sense of style. Your daughter always assured you that it would be okay for you to talk about yourself rather than about Daddy only and you knew she was right.

Despite your entire life having revolved, and still revolving, around Elvis, you were still your own person.

He would want you to do this, especially since he made big fashion statements himself back in the day and he loved dressing you up and picking out your outfits for you.

“Just pretend we’re not here, mrs. Presley. Take all the time you need,” one of the editors smiled at you as she stood besides the camera, another girl with a Vogue lanyard around her neck placing a big white photobook in front of you. “We’ve included fifteen looks for the day but we have more pictures at hand, so if you don’t feel comfortable telling about some, we can change them up a little,”

You smiled brightly, nodding your head as you let one of the stylists fix a lock of your hair, making sure it laid perfectly over your shoulder. You knew what to do because you weren’t foreign to the concept and had seen other people doing it, but you couldn’t help but be a little nervous.

Caroline stood on the side, putting her thumbs up as she smiled brightly – ever the supportive daughter.

You chuckled softly and shot her a wink, crossing your legs under the table you were sat at as you looked at the camera. As you got the cue they were rolling, you planted a bright smile on your face, manicured nails tracing the corners of the book in front of you.

“Hi Vogue, I’m Y/N Presley and this is my Life in Looks,” you told the camera happily, although making sure not to overdo your enthusiasm.

You continued on as you were told to do, knowing that they could cut and edit the taping it was meant to be shown to the public.

You opened the book, your smile growing a little as the first picture was of you being taken out on your first date with Elvis – he wasn’t shown in the picture, because this was mostly about you and the outfit you were wearing in the picture.

“The hair,” you pointed out, laughing softly as you tapped your nail against your very extravagant hairdo. It was all high and teased, and very out there. “This was in 1960, during our first date at the fair. He rented out the place like he usually did and I remember the air being so humid, even at night, I was not having a good time with this much hair,” you chuckled, remembering how you’d complain to Elvis how you wished you would’ve kept your hair down.

He assured you you looked gorgeous, even with the sheen of sweat on your forehead. You had known Elvis since before he served in the army, so you weren’t ashamed when he pointed it out. Before he became the love of your life, he was your best friend first.

“This little dress came out of my very own closet. I don’t even think it was a brand, but I was obsessed,” you giggled, looking at the camera. Sneakily catching Caroline’s eye, a smirk tugged at your lips. “She doesn’t like me saying this, but Caroline wore this dress on the first date she went on,” you whispered and your daughter gasped soundlessly, muffling a chuckle in the palm of her hand.

You smiled happily as you turned the page, talking the viewers through a few more pictures that were taken of you at the airport and so on, reminiscing happily about the day it was taken and about what you were wearing. Even though this interview was specifically cathered to you, you still talked about Elvis during pretty much every picture but you didn’t care – and neither did the crew.

This man had been your entire life. The only man you had ever been with. How could you not talk about him?

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned the page and looked right at a wedding picture of you and Elvis.

“Oh, this was such a big day for us. Our wedding day,” you smiled lovingly at the camera before looking back down, your finger tracing Elvis’ face in the picture. The camera above your head made sure to catch it. “Charlie Hodge, who as you all might know worked for Elvis, went with me to go dress shopping because people would recognize me going into stores and then they’d find out there would be a wedding,” you laughed softly, looking at the camera as you placed your hands neatly on the table underneath the book. “I put on a little disguise and me and Charlie pretended to be the ones getting married – nobody recognized us,”

Caroline’s cheeks were aching with how big she was smiling, her hands clutched firmly against her chest. She always loved hearing you talk about your life with her father before the time she was born and she could see how much you were enjoying it.

“I picked this dress because it was very lightweight and feminine, and it matched perfectly with Elvis’ suit,” you looked at the picture again, smiling fondly at the smiling face of your husband in the picture before turning the page once more.

After talking about your honeymoon for a little bit, Caroline knew what was coming and she giggled softly as she watched you pout at the camera, tapping the picture of you and Elvis while holding little baby Caroline in your arms. It was taken only a few hours after you had given birth, but dressed in a pink dress and your hair teased to perfection, it looked far from a woman who had nearly broke her husband’s hand hours before.

“Look at that face, that’s a happy dad,” you grinned as you pointed out Elvis’ face, who was smiling cutely as he looked at Caroline in your arms while you sat on the bed. “He couldn’t believe he had a child and you can clearly see that on his face. I think a lot of men are like this, but he was afraid to hold her – terrified. I was never allowed to leave his side when she’d be in his arms because he was so scared that he’d drop her,” you laughed, the memories flashing before your eyes.

“El, you won’t hurt her, I promise you,” you laughed as you sat on your knees on the bed, baby Caroline sleeping safe and sound in your arms, Elvis propped up against the headboard of the bed.

He was in his underwear, wanting to try the method of holding his baby girl against his bare chest because he read in one of your parenting books that it’d help to steady the bond between child and father.

You had forgotten about the books long ago, because as soon as you held Caroline in your arms for the first time, motherhood came natural to you. Elvis would read them every night in bed, because he wanted to make sure to become the picture perfect father.

You didn’t give him time to back out of it, moving closer to him on your knees in a slow pace as you handed Caroline to him, making sure to put her in a supported position. He placed a gentle hand under her head, his other on her tiny back as she laid comfortably in his arms, pressed against his chest.

The room was just the right temperature but you could see that the baby who was only wearing a diaper immediately enjoyed the warmth radiating off Elvis’ chest when their skins touched. She bawled her tiny hands into fists before sprawling her little fingers, her eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Stay with me, honey,” he told you with a soft hint of panic on his tongue, making sure you wouldn’t leave his side as he held Caroline.

You laughed softly and nodded, sinking further in the mattress as you mimicked his position and sat next to him. You smiled down at your daughter as her eyes found Elvis’, a goofy smile spreading across her face.

“She likes this,” you told him, gently leaning your head against his upper arm, your fingertips ghosting over Caroline’s forehead. “I think the rhythm of your heart calms her down,” you pointed out in a whisper, you and Elvis watching as the little girl in his arms stared up at her father, her tiny chest heaving up and down slowly.

“She’s so pretty,” he whispered lowly, afraid the vibrations of his voice if he spoke any louder would scare his daughter. Moving his arm a little lower so she rested on just one arm, he brought his other hand to her face, feather light fingertip trailing down her nose. “Your nose,”

You chuckled softly at the way Caroline’s smile widened because of his touches, her toothless gums on full display. Elvis laughed softly, turning to press a kiss on the top of your head.

“Can you believe we made… this?”

“Hmmhmm. Because she has your mouth,” you laughed softly, kissing his shoulder. “I bet she’ll be just as stubborn as you,”

He feigned a gasp, shoulders shaking a little as he laughed – he was about to comment that she’d definitely get the stubborness from you, but as Caroline giggled right along with the two of you, all he could do was stare at her with fond eyes.

Slowly but surely, Elvis allowed you to do your own thing whenever he’d hold her. His favorite spot was always in the bed, because that way he was absolutely sure nothing could happen to her.

Nothing ever did happen to her whenever he was holding her though, whenever in or out the bed, and to you he was a damn good father.

A natural, like you – but he never believed those words no matter how many times you’d tell him.

Caroline watched you proudly the entire time, talking about your life with her and her father, and how your own sense of style had changed throughout the years. Although Elvis loved picking out things for you to wear, you developed a big interest in fashion and design as you got older and he loved whenever you’d wear something that you designed yourself.

Your style was similar to his – the two of you always matched perfectly, looking sophisticated but still out there, turning heads. The two of you were always comfortable around each other, but not so comfortable it would turn sloppy.

There were never days where you would be lounging around the house in pajamas for an entire day. Elvis loved to dress up on any occasion, even when not leaving the house, and so did you.

On Christmas and New Year’s Eve, you’d both go all out, putting on your best fits because that’s when you felt most confident. And to the both of you, that was one of the best feelings in the world.

There weren’t much pictures of you and Elvis with Caroline when she was young because that’s something both you and your husband wanted to keep private. You did allow the crew to put a picture of Caroline’s 6th birthday in the book in front of you, because it was one of your favorites – you actually had it framed on your bedside table.

“See, this is Care’s 6th birthday and even though it was only a child’s birthday party, we were dressed like we were going to the fanciest place in town,” you told the camera, laughing softly. Elvis was in all black except for the white collar that was popped up, velvet trench coat adorning his frame. You and Caroline wore matching dresses – white ruffled poet shirts underneath a hand beaded mid length shift dress, the pattern on it throwing you right back into the 70s because of the small flowers on it. “But that was just.. our style. And Elvis loved dressing up Caroline – he loved it when she matched with us, no matter what the occasion was,”

You shot a sneaky wink Caroline’s way, who was soundlessly gasping for a breath of air as she felt a lump forming in her throat. She loved talking about Elvis as much as you did and she was able to without breaking down because it had been so many years, but the love she felt for her father was unexplainable.

Untouchable.

Their bond had always been extremely strong and even after his passing, that never faded. If anything, it only heightened. As she grew older, she was able to understand him better and see him through different eyes and while Caroline realised her father wasn’t perfect, the amount of love she carried toward him would always be there and it would always be hers.

She smiled at you, blowing you a kiss which made your smile widen – you continued on like nothing happened as you spoke to the camera, hoping your voice wasn’t giving away the thickness you felt forming in your throat.

While you could honestly speak about your husband for hours, the interview had to come to an end and you were kind of glad it did. All you wanted to do now was fly back to Memphis and spend time in the home that belonged to you and your husband. You were still professional though, talking a little with the crew and thanking everyone before you left the building.

The flight from New York to Memphis was five hours, but on the private plane time flew by fast, which you were thankful for. Despite Caroline not living at Graceland anymore, she decided to stay the night because she could see how emotional today had made you.

“Do you regret doing the interview? Was it too much?” Caroline asked softly as she laid in your bed, looking at you with a soft smile when you slipped under the covers in Elvis’ spot. You hadn’t slept on your own side since the day he passed.

“No, not at all. I love Vogue and I feel honored they asked me,” you smiled as you sat against the headboard, Caroline turning on her side to plant her head in the palm of her hand. “Seeing all the pictures just brought back a lot of memories, more than I thought they would,”

Your daughter smiled, reaching out her hand to you. You slipped your hand in hers, sighing deeply.

“Good ones I hope?”

“Ofcourse. Always good ones,” you told her with a nod of your head, kissing the back of her hand before squeezing it. “Your father and I had our lows as well, but even those memories are dear to me. He really was one of a kind, Care,”

The blonde next to you crawled closer to you, sitting up against the bed as well as she released your hand and linked her arm through yours instead, putting her head on your shoulder.

“He really was,” she whispered, looking at the wedding ring that still sat prettily on your hand. “Do you think he’s watching us?”

“Knowing your father, he’s probably right here with us right now,” you laughed softly, looking at Caroline as she raised her head to look at you with wide eyes.

“What? What do you mean right now?”

The slight panic in her eyes made you laugh harder, shrugging your shoulders as you looked around the room.

“I feel him around me all the time. I’ve gotten used to the feeling of… being watched,” you grinned playfully at her and she whined at the spine-chilling tone in your voice which you used on purpose.

It was true, though. You felt his presence all the time and you had gotten used to it – even though he couldn’t answer you or talk back, you spoke to him all the time when you’d be alone in the house. Before he passed, he promised he’d always be around and you believed him.

“Nooo, you’re joking,” Caroline laughed as she threw a pillow your way, which made you giggle as you caught it and threw it back at her. “I mean I’ve dreamt about him before, but you’re totally fucking with me right now. Dad’s probably too busy stealing the show up there,” your daughter joked as she put the pillow back in place, the light on the bedside table flickering right that second.

She widened her eyes as she immediately crawled over to you, almost planting herself on your lap, which made you only laugh harder.

You were about to tell her to calm down and that she shouldn’t be scared, but a loud bang that rumbled from downstairs actually got Caroline jumping in your lap this time, her arms firmly wrapped around your neck. Now that was something you never heard before and even though you were surprised, you couldn’t stop laughing at your daughter’s actions.

“Let’s go downstairs,” you told her with a giggle as you pushed her off, getting up from the bed. Picking up your robe, you put it on as Caroline shook her head. She wanted to decline and stay in bed, but she also didn’t want to be left alone right now so as you left the room, she quickly run after you.

“Mom, what if it’s actually someone in the house? I’m not dressed to fight!” she whispered harshly as she looked at the dress shirt she stole out of Elvis’ side of your wardrobe, her hands planted firmly on your shoulders while the both of you tiptoed down the stairs.

You laughed softly, easily finding your way through the house in the dark. “No one is here, Care,” you chuckled as you flicked on some lights in the dining room, knowing that Graceland’s security system was tight and nobody was able to come in unless you allowed them to.

The both of you didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at first, until Caroline pointed out the slightly ajar door of one of the cabinets that stood against the wall. You recognized the photobook that laid on the floor, obviously having fallen out of the cabinet.

Or more so, as if someone deliberately put it there.

You walked over to it, picking it up and opening it on the first page which immediately brought a smile to your face. “This was taken on Christmas Eve, you were just one year old,” you told Caroline as you put the book on the table, sitting down. Caroline had seen it already, she had seen all family photo’s, but she loved looking at them.

Her fear faded as she sat down next to you, smiling as the two of you happily turned pages to look at the pictures of all the Christmasses spend together. It was like a warm blanket was wrapped around you and you knew Caroline felt the same, because she had completely forgotten about the light that flickered or the worries of someone breaking into the house.

You wrapped your arm around her shoulder, kissing her temple as she smiled at the picture of her and her father in the snow, along with the snowman they build together. Bright smiles and flushed cheeks – the sight of it warmed your heart.

“Your father will always be here,” you whispered to her as you softly leaned your head against hers, rubbing her arm. “He’s gonna be there with you every step along the way, no matter what you do or where you go. Don’t you ever forget it,”

She sniffed softly, nodding her head as she turned to you to hug you tightly, your hand drawing soothing circles on her back. “I know,” she sighed, laughing softly through her tears. “As long as he doesn’t make the light flicker again, I’m okay with it,”

You laughed as you pulled back a little to look at her, cupping her face to wipe her tears away with your thumbs. “He knows you’ll probably flee your house in the middle of the night so I’m sure he won’t,”

She chuckled as she nodded, rushing a hand through her hair as you let her go.

“And he’s right. If that would’ve happened to me if I was at my place, I’d probably run onto the streets screaming,”

You bet she wouldn’t, but you still laughed at her words. You were sure Elvis would let her know he was with her in other ways, but you wouldn’t mind at all if he made the lights in your room flicker or whatsoever.

It gave you comfort knowing he was still there, popping in whenever he pleased.

After drinking some tea and looking at some more pictures, you and Caroline decided to go back upstairs and sleep away the rush of emotions the both of you went through today.

You fluffed your pillow a little, laying down after you turned the light on your side off. Caroline sighed happily, reaching for the light on her side – once again, it flickered before she had the chance to turn it off.

“Seriously, Dad?” she deadpanned, moving closer to you again instead of turning the light off like she planned to.

You laughed, shaking your head in amusement as you reached over to the lamp, switching it off.

“Give the girl a break, El,” you chuckled, laying back down. Caroline was immediately pressed against your side, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

Just like when she was a little girl, you played with her hair to make her drift off into a slumber. While she could be a tough one with a big mouth, you didn’t care that she still liked to be babied a little at twenty nine years old.

She would always be your and Elvis’ little girl and that was your most beautiful achievement.

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