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libraryofgage · 1 year

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Decided to combine 4 and 12 of the prompt list! Something about these two prompts was giving me major Addams Family vibes, so I rolled with it lol

If there are any other prompts you want to see written, lemme know!

4. “You know I’d do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything.”

12. “I’m going to have so much fun with you.”

Wherein the Munsons are branches on the Addams Family tree, and Steve finds himself the object of Eddie Munson's flirtations and devotion.

---

When the Munsons move in next door, Steve sits his brother down in the living room and says, "Don't bother them, Dustin. Wait, like, three days before asking for their life stories."

Dustin looks offended, to say the least. "I wasn't gonna ask for their life stories, Steve. I was gonna ask where they got all the bats and birds that hang out on their roof."

Honestly, Steve would love the answer to that, too, but that seems to be encroaching on the "life story" territory, considering the sheer number of flying creatures the Munsons brought with them. He'd been outside getting the mail when the Munson kids, a boy his own age and a girl Dustin's age, had opened a tiny cat carrier, and a veritable storm of black wings and feathers and screeching had somehow come streaming out of it.

The girl was watching them with a smile, and the boy turned around like he'd felt Steve staring. Their gazes met, and Steve's awkward wave was returned with the boy's eyes raking over him before winking with a grin.

"Look, ju-"

Steve's words are cut off by a banging on the door, the person knocking out a beat that he can't follow. He shoots Dustin a look to stay put before he opens the door to find the Munson boy on the other side. He's got that same playful grin and a plate of pitch-black...something in his hands.

"Uh, hi?"

Somehow, the boy's grin gets wider, and he shoves the plate into Steve's hands. "Heeeellooo, big boy," he says, his voice almost lowering into a purr that makes heat flood Steve's cheeks. "Wayne wanted me to drop off some of his famous arsenic and chocolate chip cookies. You know, since we're neighbors and all."

"Wayne? Arsenic?" Steve mumbles, looking down at the cookies warily.

"Our uncle," the boy says, leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms as he looks Steve up and down again. "Don't worry, it won't kill you. Yet. That's a friend of the family privilege, at least, and you just ain't there yet."

It must be a joke, and Steve lets out a strained laugh. He balances the plate in one hand and holds his other one out. "Right, well, uh, nice to meet you. I'm Steve. You'll probably meet my brother, Dustin, later."

The boy takes his hand, but instead of shaking it, he brings it up to his lips. Then he turns Steve's hand over, brushing his lips across the meat of his palm before nipping. Steve jerks, yanking his hand back and holding it close to his chest, his heart beating erratically as the boy says, "I'm Eddie, my sister's name is El, and I'm going to have so much fun with you, Stevie."

And with that, Eddie turns on his heel and saunters back to the Munson home, which had been painted pitch-black (just like the cookies) at some point. Steve doesn't move from the open door, feeling a faint tingling in his palm, until he hears Dustin shout that he's going to let all the cold air out.

The arsenic and chocolate chip cookies had not, in fact, killed either of them. And, despite their burnt-to-coal appearance, they were soft and chewy. It had immediately put the Munsons in Dustin's good graces, which he happily proclaimed while Steve's head and heart were still reeling from Eddie's introduction.

In the following weeks, Eddie kept popping up whenever Steve left the house. He never overstepped, though. He'd appear at a distance, wait for Steve to wave or say hi, and then approach with that big grin with canine teeth that looked a little sharper than they should. Sometimes he'd offer more baked goods from Wayne (always with some schtick to them: eye of newt brownies, hag's breath toffee, cyanide and cherry pie). On one notable occasion, he'd offered a baseball bat with nails stuck through the end.

"El let out a demodog the other day, so you probably ought to be careful. I'd hate for you to get hurt by something that wasn't me," Eddie had said as Steve confusedly took the bat.

He blinked when he had processed the words and looked up. "You would hurt me?" Steve asked.

Eddie had leaned close, his ringed fingers ghosting over Steve's side and inching closer to his waist, and whispered, "It wouldn't just hurt, Stevie." His words had sent a shiver down Steve's spine, his mouth suddenly dry as Eddie pulled away.

And their interactions had escalated from there. With every meeting, Eddie strayed closer, lingered longer, spoke softer, and Steve couldn't escape the growing devotion and fascination in his eyes. At some point, Steve knew, things were bound to boil over.

So, he definitely wasn't surprised when they did at the neighborhood's annual Fourth of July cookout. Eddie had waited until El and Dustin were distracted by their other friends, checked to make sure Wayne was sufficiently busy with helping at the grill, and then kidnapped Steve to a hidden corner of the Byers's yard.

Which brings Steve to the present, the Byers's house casting a long shadow over him and Eddie so nobody notices them. The sound of other kids screeching with delight and parents discussing summer camps fades when Eddie leans in closer.

"You know I'd do anything to have you stay by my side, right? Anything?" Eddie asks, tilting Steve's chin up as he crowds him against the wall.

Steve presses back against the cool brick, silently holding Eddie's gaze. There's a stark seriousness to his words, and Steve can't help his curiosity about just what anything encompasses. "Would you kill for me?" he asks, his voice soft.

Eddie practically lights up, a feral grin pulling at his lips. "Gladly, sweetheart," he purrs.

"Would you die for me?"

"I'd tear out my heart and present it on a fucking silver platter for you. In fact, I can do it right now, if you'd like." A knife appears in his hand from seemingly nowhere, and Eddie brings it to his own chest only for Steve to stop him by grabbing his wrist.

"Then, what about living for me?" Steve asks, carefully taking the knife from Eddie and smoothly returning it to the holder tucked into his jeans.

Eddie leans in until their noses brush, his hand cupping Steve's jaw. "I wouldn't even dream of dying without your permission, Stevie," he whispers.

And Steve would fucking love to meet the person who could withstand Eddie Munson's attention and flirting and gifts and care and sheer devotion without falling head-over-heels for him. Steve would want to put that person in a jar, study them, see if their indifference is something he could mass produce. He's sure Eddie would be thrilled to help him do it, too.

"I have one request," Steve whispers back, reaching up and pushing his hand into Eddie's hair, warmth rushing through him when Eddie leans into the touch.

"Anything. Say the word, and I wouldn't hesitate to crawl through hot coals and broken glass." Steve has zero doubts Eddie would; in fact, he knows Eddie would be ecstatic to do it, if only for the chance to make Steve smile.

"I want one of the bats. And Dustin wants a demodog, but you better make sure it doesn't hurt him, or I'll make you listen to bubblegum pop and watch a Disney marathon."

Steve can feel the shudder that goes through Eddie, his eyes revealing a mix of horror, pride, and love at Steve's words. "You, Stevie, have perfected the art of making threats. Consider your two requests granted and me sufficiently...threatened," Eddie breathes, somehow managing to press even closer.

And Steve can't make either of them wait a second longer. With a grin that can easily rival Eddie's, Steve kisses him and begins to think of names for his bat.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #addams family #stranger things #i just love the addams family so much #one of my favorite aus to make actually #the way they love is so pure and unapologetically genuine #even if it's different from the norm of love and courtship #that makes it even more romantic #my writing

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naffeclipse · 8 months

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What if Eclipse from AP was a naga? And this took place in the deep jungle of the amazon, where photographer y/n is trying to take pictures of the wildlife?

I'm vibrating at the speed of sound over this ask while also nudging my naga au

Naga Eclipse from AP would have the tail of a Green Anaconda, with an olive green scaly color dotted with black, framed by burning-like flares of orange along the length of his slithery body. He's also decorated with orange-yellow striping on either side of his long, slipper form. His upper half is scaley with a lithe deadliness to his musculature and decorated by frills surrounding his head with brighter orange-yellow colors, almost hypnotic in their gradient hues. One eye is deep emerald green, and one is midnight blue.

Lucky you—you're out on a once-in-a-lifetime expedition to explore a jungle closed off to the public, funded by Fazco, and occupied by two researchers who will be your bunkmates for the next few weeks. You're itching to take photos of the large river, including swamps, marshes and streams, and whatever wildlife is out there.

The few locals you did meet before you left to hike the rest of the way to what would be your new, isolated home warned you of a dangerous snake—a large, mythical beast. You take note of the local folklore. You understand the truth is hidden in there somewhere, and you are well aware of the dangers and diseases you could be met with in such a harsh environment, but you're determined.

It doesn't take long for you to feel eyes watching you when you first venture out by yourself. You take beautiful pictures of freshwater fish, big and beautiful, unlike any you have ever seen. Of course, you have hundreds of snapshots of the local flora, the trees, the floating meadows, the thick vines that drape each branch and hang thickly about the ground. You almost forget that you eerily don't feel alone.

But you swear something moves in the water—the ripples stop as soon as you look. The stillness is suddenly stiff, lifeless. Even the birds have stopped chirping.

You lower your camera and carefully put it away. A trickle of fear slips into your heart. You turn away from the river's edge only to be met by a low hiss and a creature, unlike anything you witnessed in your travels, spooling itself neatly out of the water, blocking your path to the base. An incredible creature with long arms and a great, serpentine tail that seems to stretch for yards and yards. You can hardly breathe in his presence—he's otherworldly with his frills and scales and fangs.

His eyes contain a mesmerizing shine as if staring into a fire as it burns or watching the ocean as it laps up against the beach, drawing your attention, demanding you don't look away. You couldn't anyway. Half-frozen, you struggle to keep from collapsing. He beckons with a sharp talon. He hisses softly for you to come closer, mouse. He wants to see you. You try to beg no without revealing how terribly you tremble. He doesn't let you go. He insists. His eyes flash with an allure. You almost step close when he murmurs that you need to be good.

But then your sense of survival kicks adrenaline into your heart, and you turn to run—

He strikes faster than your eyes can follow. Two loops of his green and orange tail surrounded you in an instant. You're dragged to the ground, your arms pinned under his mass, and the back of your head cradled by his large palm as powerful muscles squeeze you in the slightest—a gentle rebuke for thinking you could get away. You're hyper-aware of the terrifying bulk of muscles as you lie trapped in his coils. One strong twist and your eyes could pop out of your skull, and every bone protecting your heart and lungs would crumble to shards. You gasp. An urge to kick your legs and struggle erupts in your panic; a sinking feeling tells you it would only make things worse.

He coos over you, hissing and humming in an ancient song of the jungle you have no name for. When you whimper, he shushes you and strokes your cheek. He tells you how lovely you'll be. When you talk back to him, somehow finding your tongue amid your horror, you find out his name. Eclipse. He moves you more upright, resting you on his tail so you're not petrified by how vulnerable you feel lying down, but he never loosens his scaly bindings. He hovers over you. You gaze into his stunning frills of yellow-orange and wonder how a being like him came to exist. He studies you as you study him. He grins at how you shiver when he traces your collarbone with a sharp fingertip.

You remind yourself that you can still breathe. He hasn't crushed you—yet—but you don't like how wide his smile is. Sometimes, his jaw stretches a little too long as if dislocating from his skull, ready to devour you. His eyes gleam with a ravenousness as scales twist around you, holding you close enough to smell the slick green water he had been in and deep musk.

He tells you that he'll see you again very soon—away from other humans, lest you bring him a fine gift for a meal. You can only flex your fingers, silently pleading in your heart that he won't unhook his jaw and eat you alive.

Then, he unravels himself from your limbs. But before he lets you go entirely, he leans in close, his serpentine tongue flickering close to your neck and by your hair, tasting the air around you as you muster all your strength to not scream. He inhales deeply, pleased, before he murmurs, "Sweet mouse. You are mine. Say it."

You don't understand, but you echo his command, and when he taps your chin once in what might have been a loving gesture, you force your jelly legs to solidify before you run and run, all the way back to base. You slam the door to your room behind you. You touch your ribs, your arms, still caught in the heavy sensation of his loops as if he were upon you right now.

The stories are true—there is a giant snake in this jungle, and he wants you. You're afraid to discover if Eclipse's intrigue with you is only an exotic way to satisfy his hunger.

#i'm not normal about nagas #this is great because in the naga au with sun and moon #eclipse isn't a naga so this gives me my fix of naga eclipse #just augh #love these monsters #anyways he's gonna squeeze you and love you and you are just so lucky he finds you adorable he could just eat you up (not really but ya kno #he has plans for lovely little you #he's going to show you so many cool creatures like pink river dolphins and big big BIG floating meadows and the best brightest birds!#he's also gonna try to get you to eat vermits and promise that he'll protect you when you get sluggish after eating #and you have to explain that your metabolism is very different from his but then you get to see him sluggish and sleepy after he eats #(whoops that means extra long cuddles for you and boy does he like to take long naps and wrap you up tight so you don't go anywhere)#apex polarity #<<< just tagging for the same characterization of Orclipse and photographer y/n #but i am calling this:#blackwater lure #naga!eclipse #photographer!reader #naff writing #the serpent den

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camarocarfight · 7 months

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Alastor's Bloody Valentine

Human Alastor x Reader late Valentine's Day special

Rated very mature with sexual content, murder, blood, and gore. Set in the 1930s with human characters. I suppose you could look at this as being a little Alastor back story.

Maybe there'll be a part deux?

It's kinda edited, but I got lazy and lost interest, and I just wanted to finish it. I hope all of you dear readers enjoy!

New Orleans, 1932

There was a chill in the air, carried in on a breeze that whistled through the old willow trees, and rustled their long, spindle-like branches. The trill of grasshoppers and crickets and the occasional screech of a night owl were customary of the bayou. Only interrupted by the nightly steam train, whose whistle echoed for miles until it faded like a whisper. There was no moon - only an ebony sky accompanied by its thousands of starry hosts.

As serene as it all seemed, the bayou was one of the most dangerous places to be in 1932. Not just because of the alligators, snakes, and venomous spiders. The neighboring town was full of talk about the Louisiana serial killer, who lured their victims into the darkness of the bayou to slaughter them, leaving no trace or remains. People simply vanished, though it seemed to be mostly men of diverse age and status. Innocent and not so innocent. The most recent being a younger gentleman who had just gotten married. The papers did fail to mention that he'd nearly beaten his new wife within an inch of her life not long after the wedding, but news traveled fast. He was the thirteenth person to go missing.

With Valentine's Day came the fear of who the next victim would be. Mothers and wives kept tight leashes on their sons and husbands, and the police put in place a mandatory curfew. Temporary police sentinels were stationed on street corners, keeping watch over the streets day and night. Which subsequently made it more difficult to get to and from the only speakeasy in town. The police were happy - killing two birds with one stone.

“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, don't let this curfew get you down. Take your gal out on the town for some swing and make the most out of your Valentine's Day. Ladies, keep your gents close, and stay safe-”

“Y’see,” Mimzy turned the cathedral radio off with a huff and crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest. “This curfew is ruinin’ everything!”

You rolled your eyes and leaned your elbow on the bar and rested your cheek in the palm of your hand. Mimzy had been on a tangent for the last week for having to close the speakeasy. Being that it was in the basement of an old sugar mill, it was too risky to keep it running with the police snooping around. In one night, with the help of Husker, all of the liquor was moved under the cover of darkness to the crawl space of Alastor's hunting cabin deep in the bayou. The liquor would at least be safe if the police felt it necessary to search the sugar mill. The only thing they'd find would be an empty stage and bar.

With no speakeasy, the regular meet and greet for you and all of your friends was the cabin. It was a comfortable space, at least. Alastor had used the extra money he made from his radio show to install new, polished wood floors, a nice bar, and even a loft with a decent sized bed when he would stay for the first week of hunting. It also had a decent kitchen, which was Alastor's favorite feature. As for you, Alastor made sure to give you your own bit of space. In the corner of the main room was a stone fireplace with book shelves flanking either side. The shelves were filled to the brim with books of every genre. Hanging above the fireplace was Alastor’s prized Stag - previously occupied by Alastor’s portrait from when he was in the service. You never did tell him just how creepy you found the stuffed creature. Alastor loved the hunting sport, but you appreciated wildlife as just that; alive.

Mimzy sauntered over from the radio and sat herself on a rickety barstool, her brows pinched. “How am I gonna make money? Who knows how long this whole thing will go on for. And where's Alastor? His show ended an hour ago. His ass better not be dead too.”

You sighed and stood from your barstool to round the bar. There was a bottle of, ironic enough, Red Stag that was already open. It wasn't your first choice, but prohibition made everyone less picky. You poured yourself a generous glass, only for Mimzy to swipe it from you, and gulp it down in one swig. Your eye twitched in irritation as you glared at the woman through your lashes. The relationship between the two of you was decent enough, but as of late, she'd been grating your nerves and testing your patience. Mimzy's flamboyant personality didn’t jive well with your own in an enclosed space. You were more reserved, shy, and softly spoken. Not to mention that the cabin had always been an intimate space for you and Alastor. It didn't seem so intimate now - being that it was now shared space with Mimzy and Husker.

“Would you like another drink before I pour my own,” you asked, your voicing clipped.

Your head was pounding now, with a migraine blooming behind your eyes. The little grin that slid over Mimzy's lips told you that she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Actually, Doll, I would,” she flashed you a grin with her nose wrinkling as she did so. “You're such a good friend,” Mimzy cooed and thrust her empty glass in your face.

Your grip on the bottle of Red Stag was white knuckle, and you opened your mouth to give her a piece of your mind, but the words caught in your throat when the cabin door opened. Both you and Mimzy looked over to see Husker coming through the door with Alastor trailing behind him. Your shoulders visibly deflated when your gaze met Alastor's.

Mimzy put her glass down on the bar and threw her arms up in glee. “Alastor! I'm so glad to see you!”

“And I you,” Alastor grinned. “Thanks for holding down the fort and watching over my darling for me.”

“I don't need a babysitter,” you grumbled and nodded your head at Husker when he gave you a sympathetic smile. “Hey, Husk.”

“Cher,” Husk greeted in that deep, baritone voice.

Alastor laughed boisterously and leaned on the bar in front of you. Upon meeting his gaze, his chocolate brown pools started to melt away all of the tension in your body. It was so easy for you to get lost in his eyes.

“I jest, my dear. Husker here is going to drive Mimzy home, and we are going to celebrate!”

Mimzy quirked a brow and made a sound akin to a high-pitched scoff. “I ain't ready to leave yet. I want to celebrate too! We could have a round of drinks!”

Husk had noticed that you and Alastor had yet to tear apart your gazes and were seeming lost in each other. Alastor flashed you a dazzling smile and leaned over the bar to press a chaste kiss to your lips. That was enough for your cheeks to flush and become a brilliant crimson.

“C'mon,” Husk grabbed Mimzy's fur coat off the coat rack and all but threw it into the woman's face. “Before I drag your ass to the car.”

Mimzy put her coat on in a huff, then fussed over her hair, throwing insults at Husker as she did so.

“Thank you,” you mouthed to Alastor and waved to Mimzy as she was all but pushed out the door by Husker. You could hear her nagging as she walked all the way to the door. “Poor Husker.”

“He'll live,” Alastor hummed and gave you a wink. “Mimzy, however,” he chuckled.

“That would be too good to be true,” you mumbled and grabbed the bottle of Red Stag to pour yourself that long awaited glass. “How was work?”

Alastor set about removing his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress. Your gaze was drawn to the newly exposed, tan flesh of his forearms. “Same as always, my dear. I'm sure you were listening?”

“Until Mimzy turned the radio off,” You walked into the main sitting area and sat in your favorite rocking chair.

In your left hand was your glass of bourbon that you then took a sip of. From over the brim of the glass, you continued to study your partner as he made himself comfortable. Alastor's bowtie was now untied, and the top button of his dress shirt undone, exposing a delicious expanse of his neck. Being that it was Valentine's Day, you hoped that it meant that Alastor wouldn't mind taking everything farther than usual. The man would tease you here and there, whispering dirty things in your ear, because he knew it riled you up. The act of sex, however, just didn't fit his idealism. Any affection from Alastor would include kissing and touching, maybe heavy petting, but the two of you had only had penetrative sex a handful of times. Each time it happened was mind-blowing, leaving you craving more and waiting on bated breath to feel him the same way again. You could feel yourself beginning to flush just thinking about it - the heat slowly building up in your chest and rising until your cheeks were crimson. At least you could blame it on the bourbon, which you quickly threw back and tore your gaze away from Alastor.

“So,” Alastor sat down on the couch and crossed his legs, and draped his left arm over the back of the couch. “Quiet evening with a shared drink, my darling?”

Honestly, the man was entirely too distracting. It didn't help either that the bourbon was affecting you far sooner than you anticipated. Your mind blanked, seeing Alastor sitting there - sleeves rolled up, bowtie undone, the red vest that matched his trousers that fit him entirely too well. Alastor was your perfect definition of a sex-god that had a distaste for the very thing that you craved. His smoldering gaze and satisfied, closed-mouth grin told you that he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on you.

“Are you alright,” he cocked his head to the side. “You look bothered.”

“You're a tease,” you swallowed.

Alastor’s brows rose in surprise. “Me? I'm just sitting here,” he laughed and beckoned you over with his finger. “Come here, my darling.”

A bolt of red-hot arousal shot right up your spine, and your body moved automatically, seemingly out of your control and under Alastor’s. Alastor moved to uncross his legs and seized you by the hips with his strong hands. You now stood in between his spread thighs, looking down into his brown eyes as he gazed up at you. His lips quirked in a crooked grin, making him look like the cat who got the cream.

“Tell me how I'm a tease,” Alastor whispered huskily.

You brought your hands up to cup his face and ran your left thumb along his bottom lip. “You know what you do to me, Alastor.”

Alastor grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Oh, I'm well aware,” the man's pupils were now blown with his own need. “Would you like me to do something about that?”

Relief flooded you, and you nodded eagerly. By now, the bourbon was really beginning to have an effect on you and how much you needed the man before you. “I've been waiting so long, Alastor.”

“The wait makes it worthwhile,” he growled.

Before your tipsy mind could even comprehend what was happening, Alastor stood, effortlessly hoisting you up by the hips, and bounded towards the spiral staircase of the loft Your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his slim waist. Alastor’s arousal was very noticeable against your own pelvis. The heat from his girth radiated through his slacks. When his lips met yours in a fevered kiss, your mind blanked with arousal. Your senses quickly became overwhelmed by his touch, his scent, and his taste as his tongue coaxed your own in a scorching kiss. Alastor eagerly devoured your mouth and every subsequent moan he drew from you. He broke the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as he did so. His lips then trailed down to the column of your neck where he sank his teeth into the supple flesh. You hissed from the pain and carded your fingers through his brunette hair until you had a handful and tugged, earning a groan from him.

“Fuck it,” Alastor growled and sat you on the steps of the spiral staircase.

Alastor’s hands snaked up your dress to pull your panties down your legs, leaving the silk garment dangling from your left ankle. You gasped when he cupped your dripping sex in his left hand and breathed against the side of your neck.

“I’ll have you right here,” he growled and claimed your mouth once again.

You moaned wontanly into his mouth when he penetrated you with two fingers and curled them against your g-spot. Even though sex was a rare occasion, Alastor had memorized your body from the inside out. Knowing every sensitive spot to kiss, lick, or bite. Alastor groaned and pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, ripping the most delicious moans from your throat. Each and every sound you made went straight to his cock that was now straining uncomfortably in his slacks. With a tweak of his fingers, Alastor had you coming with his name falling from your lips like the most beautiful prayer.

“Alastor,” you were breathless, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. “I need you inside me.”

Alastor’s eyes darkened, and he carefully withdrew his fingers from your quivering sex. “You’ll have me,” he whispered and kissed you chastly.

The sound of Alastor’s belt buckle was like music to your ears, as your body was finally getting the attention that it so badly craved. With your left hand, you reached between you and Alastor and took his now freed, sizeable length in your hand. You bit your lip and looked up at Alastor through your eyelashes. Alastor held your gaze as he guided himself into your tight heat, slowly splitting you open and seating himself inside you. Both of you panted, attempting to adjust to the almost foreign sensation. No, you weren’t a virgin, but Alastor had been your first, and since sex wasn’t a regular occurrence, it took both of you longer to adjust. You, more so than Alastor.

He was thankfully patient, waiting until the pained look on your face was no longer before slowly pulling out and thrusting back into the hilt. The man clenched his teeth painfully and screwed his eyes shut, completely drunk off of the feeling of you fitting around him so perfectly.

You held onto Alastor tightly, with your nails digging into the flesh of his back, even through his dress shirt. Alastor’s hands had your hips in a death grip, and you hoped that you would have bruises left in their place. You wanted Alastor to claim you - mark you - so that everyone knew you belonged to him.

“Come inside me, Alastor,” the words fell from your lips in a pathetic whimper before you even realised what you said.

The look Alastor gave you startled you, and his hips stuttered to a pause. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, Alastor’s eyes searching your own as if looking for truth behind that request. You feared your moment of intimacy with Alastor was ruined until he started moving once more. This time, he moved slower, taking his time pulling all of the way out and sinking back into you. He continued to hold your gaze and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Is that what you want,” Alastor asked, but it was barely above a whisper. “To be mine, forever?”

Of course it’s what you wanted. Alastor had been your first, and you wanted no one else. It was difficult for you to imagine your life any different. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about starting a family with Alastor. You brought your hands up to Alastor’s face and looked into those chocolate pools.

“Make me yours, forever, Alastor.”

~~~

You awoke the next morning, nestled in the king-sized bed of the loft alone. Alastor was nowhere to be found, with his side of the bed neatly made. Between your legs was an ache and a stickiness in the inside of your thighs that served as a reminder of the previous night's activities. What little bourbon you had, had also left you with a slight headache that settled over your temples. Coffee would be a good fix, and you wondered why you hadn't smelled it perking if Alastor had already been up.

There was a fire going in the fireplace when you made your way down the staircase, confirming that Alastor was around, but nowhere to be seen. You thought nothing of it and went over to the kitchenette to get coffee perking and breakfast ready for whenever Alastor returned.

You sat down in your rocking chair by the fireplace when the coffee was ready to enjoy your cup. The chair rocked rhythmically on the hardwood floor, nearly lulling you to sleep until you heard a god awful noise coming from the crawlspace under the cabin. Your first thought was that a stranger or the police had found the liquor stash, and you bolted out of the chair to get the pistol hidden among your books.

The door to the crawlspace was in the kitchenette and was flung open, revealing a blood covered Alastor. The man looked up at you with blood splattered across his face and chest, staining his white dress shirt. There was enough blood that you couldn't tell if it was coming from Alastor or not.

You dropped the pistol that was in your hands and rushed over to him, and hooked your arms around his arm. “A-alastor, what the hell? Are you-”

“It's fine!” He laughed and looked down at you with a grin. “It's not mine.”

Your eyes widened, and you took a tentative step away from him and shook your head. “Then, whose is it?”

Alastor ignored your question and casually walked over to the pot of coffee on the stove. He poured himself a mug, all the while humming a song with that same grin on his face.

“Alastor,” you demanded. “You're scaring the hell out of me.”

“I'm sorry,” he put his coffee mug on the counter and turned back to you. “This,” he pointed to his stained shirt. “Is just the latest victim.”

“The latest…,” you paled, with the details finally coming together. “You're him.”

Alastor flashed you that dazzling grin and opened a drawer next to the stove. Without even looking, Alastor pulled a massive knife out and studied it.

“Did you know, my darling, that in order to inflict a fatal wound, you need at least fifteen inches of penetration?”

“Please put the knife do-”

You gasped. Before you could even react, Alastor lunged forward, plunging the knife deep in your abdomen. He stood in front of you, holding the blade in place with his smile never faltering. Pain blossomed throughout your body, and you began to choke on the blood that bubbled up through your throat. You coughed and watched the blood mixed sputum splatter across Alastor’s already stained shirt. Tears fell freely from your eyes, staining your cheeks, and your trembling hands grabbed onto Alastor’s arm that still held the knife inside you.

Blinking up at Alastor through your tears, you saw no remorse on his face. Just that twisted grin that you had fallen in love with so many years ago.

“You should know I'm too much like my father to have children,” Alastor said darkly. “That's a risk I cannot take.”

Alastor pulled the knife out of your abdomen and stepped back as you crumpled to the floor on your knees. The pain was white-hot, but it was nothing compared to that of your broken heart. Your body screamed for his closeness and wanted to hate him for everything. Even after the previous night, after telling you he would be with you forever. In an attempt to stop the bleeding, you held pressure on the wound, but you knew it was no use. You were dying. At the hands of your lover.

“It won't be long, my love,” Alastor got down on one knee and brushed your hair out of your face. “I'm sorry I had to do this.”

“F-fuck you,” you gasped and choked.

Your vision was beginning to fade in and out, along with your hearing. The weight of your body suddenly became too much and you fell to your side. Before your head hit the floor, Alastor had caught you and laid you down gently. The last sensation you felt, other than the pain, was Alastor kissing you. It was a passionate kiss, similar to that of the kiss you shared while making love. He didn't care about the blood that pooled from your mouth, but seemed to enjoy it more than anything. When he broke the kiss, you met his gaze, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I'll see you in hell,” you spit, using every ounce of energy you had left before going still.

Alastor smiled down at your now lifeless body and ran his fingers through your hair. A single tear ran down his cheek, and his smile grew into a grin.

“It's a date.”

Part Two

#alastor x you #alastor x reader #human alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader

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daisystwistedgarden · 22 days

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a/n: watched sleeping beauty for the first time today and had this idea

you've met him before.

you can feel it coming-- only once, the first time, had you ever been caught off guard. you always find yourself in the same forest clearing. the small chitters of animals accompany the gently sway of the trees. the sky is sunny, but you can never quite see the sun from where you stand. wandering too far into the hazy gray ether on the edge of the open glade led your feet back to the same spot where you found yourself originally.

the birds sing their song. you, too, find yourself humming along. the words are foreign to your mind, but not your tongue, as you utter a tune too familiar to be unknown entirely.

i know you, i walked with you once upon a dream...

you tend to busy yourself with whatever seems most enticing. boredom seldom finds you here, regardless of how many times you open your eyes to find the same tree line sprawled out before you. the animals here do not seem to fear you as they would in the world you know-- instead, they weave between your steps and follow your movements with a grace too easy to be natural. fear seldom finds you here, either.

i know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam...

your voice continues to carry through the trees, no matter how quiet you find your words. neither do they seem to waver when you realize you're not truly alone.

yet I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem...

most days, he joins you in ways that keep him hidden from your sight. a deep baritone voice melds with yours as you recite lyrics you can't quite predict-- a figure's shadow lingers just foggy edge of the glen. vivid green eyes peer from between the leaves of a nearby treetop while you crouch to pluck ripe berries fresh from the bush. you're always careful to watch for the thorns you can't see. on the days you find yourself swept up in some invisible music, captured in an aimless waltz, you feel a presence behind you guiding you through the steps with a poise ingrained in each blade of grass, each pleasant breeze and each leaf clinging to every branch.

the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. the strange baritone is closer now. smooth. too smooth. an icy cold blooms across the side of your neck, glacial in the same way the palms of your hands begin to stiffen from an unfamiliar drop in temperature. you turn to look behind you and catch a glint of silky raven hair and a sallow, sickly flash of skin fading into something dark and tall reaching towards the sky.

you awaken out of breath, heart pounding as you stare into the darkness. your bedsheets feel cold, almost untouched, around your body. the fan in the corner hums its same tune night after night. everything is as it should be.

from the window, you spot a pair of glowing green eyes. swirling, vivid, hypnotizing you to rise from the safety of your bed and march towards the unknown. yet... it's not quite unfamiliar, is it? no, you know those eyes. you've seen them before.

once upon a dream.

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst imagines #malleus draconia #twst malleus #twst malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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thesharkwhalewhoohooooo · 22 days

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“Ella!” Bridget called out to her friend, looking around the forest, trying to find her as fast as possible.

Did Uliana get to her first?

She spotted her farther away, collapsed in between the roots of a tree, her position seemed very uncomfortable.

Which wasn’t the only reason Bridget ran up to her to sit her up.

“Wake up! Ella! We have to go!” She pinched her cheek, shaking her, everything, but nothing worked!

The princess paled as she realised what happened, either Uliana had gotten to her, so it was most likely a spell, or she was knocked out.

Both were awful, so Bridget hoped for the best and kissed her forehead, staring at her limp body whilst sitting across from her, leaning back on her palms.

Every single noise, the crackling of the leaves as the wind ruffled them, birds flying past, bugs buzzing, it got her more on guard, eyes whizzing past the trees in search of the Villains, the reason they had split up and fled into the woods in the first place.

“Ella, come on!” The sounds had gotten to her, so she had sat up on her knees to lean over her crush friend, staring at her face, as if that would work.

It should work… right? Bridget thought, glancing down at the blue haired girl’s lips, her nose almost touching hers, feeling the pressure on her hands and something biting her on her hand snapped her out of her daze.

Shaking her hand, she shot up, looking down at the fire ant that had bitten her, and was about to scold it, but she remembered that animals didn’t speak here, so she let out a soft sigh, picking Ella up so she can find the way back.

“Why won’t you wake up?” Her voice was shaky, almost desperate, she honestly didn’t want her dreams to get shattered by kissing her and then her not waking up.

Like always, she gave up, the temptation was just too great, and she leaned over her once more, their lips almost touching when Ella shot up, Bridget falling back on the ground and rubbing her forehead.

“Ella!” She whined, Ella looked around in confusion, but still smiled down sheepishly.

“Sorry B, but what happened?”

“Well I think Uliana and her group knocked you out? I’m not sure.”

“Ella!” Even though the girl was clearly tipsy, Bridget was still just as excited to see her, her and her beautiful, gorgeous face.

“Bridget! I think I shouldn’t have drank that thing I got from the junkies… but I have a 50 now!” She held up the bill with a smile, collapsing into Bridget’s arms, who smiled down at her and booped her nose.

“You know you can come to me for that! I can give you anything your little blue heart desires!” Ella let out a laugh, throwing her head back, trying to stand back up, but only managing to stumble them both onto Bridget’s bed.

“You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” Ella smiled softly, looking up at Bridget, who had to pull her up to look into her eyes properly.

“You’re the best thing to happen ever.” She mumbled, kissing her on the cheek, then the other, then her forehead, jaw- she snapped out of it when Ella giggled, her face was covered in Bridget’s pink lipstick by now, and said girl turned red, how had she not noticed?

“That tickles!” Her giggles were infectious, and soon Bridget was also giggling, the two of them rolling around the bed, playfully shoving each other and inevitably falling off of the bed.

“I love you Bridget, you’re the best friend I could ever ask for.”

Bridget woke up the next day by Ella storming into her room in a frenzy, still with the stains all over her face and neck.

“B! How do I get your lipstick off! Please!” She was nearly in tears, which almost sprung out when she saw Bridget innocently smile and giggle, slowly laying back down to go back to sleep, clearly not trying to do something about it.

“Bridget! This is serious! I have morning classes!”

“I don’t, please let me sleep until my classes begin.” Ella’s angry footsteps was the only thing she heard, burying her face in her sheets and curling up again, closing her eyes.

“I swear to god Bridget if you don’t-!” Ella yelped, Bridget dragging her into her bed by her shirt, smiling mischievously at her when she got wrapped up by her covers.

“Good morning Ella.”

#the depths contrapts #rise of red #descendants #ror #descendants the rise of red #descendants 4 #bridget of wonderland #bridgella

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dumbkiri · 1 year

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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕎𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠 𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 『2』

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ: ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄʀᴜᴍʙʟᴇ

Blessed energy comes with a price of unwanted memories. Sukuna may have kept [Name]'s ancestor locked away from her true lover. But in this life, it wasn't going to happen. Satoru and [Name] are a perfect match like Shoko said.

Song used in this fic: Davy Jones by Fia Orädd

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“Satoru, this is a lot of stuff,” [Name] tried to stop Gojo from presenting her with so many gifts. Yet the man did not agree with her. His sunglasses slipped down the bridge of his nose to gaze into her pretty [e.color] eyes.

“I need to make sure you have everything for your new garden. Shoko will have you divorce me if I don’t provide you with things you need for your hobby.” He set the fertilizer bag down on the floor and walked back to the entrance of the grand estate.

Yes, [Name] was quickly moved into his house and her servants were also moved into the place. The lonely heirs were welcomed to make a home with each other. She found it best that Gojo was the only one for her. They were friends in high school after all and [Name] would be lying if she said that she didn’t have a crush on Gojo.

“Well, that was towards different men, Satoru.” [Name] followed her fiance to the backyard and the size of it caught her eyes. It was a blank slate, with only green luscious grass planted for her imagination to take over.

“It’s amazing, huh?” Gojo startled her and he set the multiple bags of fertilizer down on the grass. “It didn’t take a long time to get rid of whatever was back here. Some trees, ugly boulders, old fountains…and more. I couldn’t wait to get rid of the old stuff and see what new things you can make.”

[Name] smiled happily and wiped the tears out of her eyes before Gojo could see them, but he was already teasing her. “You cryin’, pretty girl?” He leaned in front of her face and smirked at her.

“No,” [Name] stubbornly denied and looked into his sparkling blue eyes, “again, thank you, Satoru. You’re doing a lot for me now.”

Her genuine thanks pulled him out of his teasing and he backed up, ignoring her piercing gaze. “Yeah, it’s no problem at all. By the way, we should talk about marriage stuff.”

“Oh yeah,” [Name] ran into the house and came back with a blanket to set on the grass. She fixed it up for both of them and sat down on her knees looking up at Gojo expectantly. Gojo followed and sat across from her. One leg was stretched out to her and the other was bent so he could rest his elbow on his knee.

“Obviously the old men want an heir from my family and yours, so it’s hitting two birds with one stone. But I don’t want to be rushed and I know you don’t either. When we have a kid on the way, we should expect them to try to make the leash on us tight. Well they can try to tame me, but you,” Gojo took his glasses off and set them in between his legs, “You need to fight them off. I don’t want you to take orders from any of them.”

“Satoru, that’s easier said than done. You actually have the will to fight them,” [Name] looked away from him and focused on his glasses, “I’m just a woman in their eyes.”

“You’re different, you’re my woman. You’re Gojo [Name] now. The same way I belong to you, you belong to me. The same way I argue with them and flaunt my strength, you can as well. Don’t be afraid of them, they can’t do anything to you.”

His words made her heart flutter and a blush fanned across her cheeks. She looked up at him and sighed. The blush went away with the thoughts that clouded her mind. .

“There’s something you should know, Satoru. About my family and why I’m the only one alive.”

[Name] let her hand hover over the grass and let it tickle her palm, “My mom was a reincarnation of the King of Curses’ concubine. Her name was [L.Name] Nami and it’s said that Nami was Sukuna’s favorite. My mother told me that the blessed energy we carry is because Nami prayed to God for protection from that abomination. And God has seen how faithful she had been to him and he sealed her gentle spirit in a red rose.”

“Red rose? You mean the flower at the center of the garden at the school contains [L.Name] Nami’s spirit?” Gojo curiously asked, he turned on his side and put his head in his hand. He watched [Name] nod her head and she confirmed it, “Yeah, no one can get past the blessed glass if they are not a [L.Name]. I am the only one capable of releasing Nami’s soul, but I was only told to do so if she wanted it.”

“And how would you know if she wanted it?”

[Name] shrugged her shoulders and whispered, “My mother passed away before she could explain it. But I was tasked with keeping Nami at peace by singing, dancing and gardening. I love flowers just as much as she did. I planted as many flowers and cared for them as much as Nami did. I sing any song she wishes and I dance like she used to do. It allows her more freedom than Sukuna ever granted her.”

Gojo sat up and held her attention by saying, “Well then, my dear [Name], to make the mood lighter. I have a gift for you!”

“Another one, Satoru?” [Name] asked, relaxing her shoulders and raising an eyebrow in question.

Her fiance laughed and showed off a box that contained a sparkly diamond ring inside. She could see how hard he tried to keep the simplicity for her, but she saw how hard it was for him. Because the ring was anything, but simple. “Oh, Satoru, a simple band would have satisfied me,” She placed her hand over her chest and could feel her heart beating fast in excitement.

“Nope!” He disagreed and set the box on the floor to pull her closer to him. His large hands rested on her waist and he dragged her forward, her knees in between his legs. Gojo picked the ring out and held his hand out for hers to be placed in it.

[Name] beamed in happiness and set her hand in his. She felt his thumb rub her knuckles and take a firm grasp onto her hand. With the ring, he slid it onto her ring finger and picked her hand up to witness it dazzle in the sun’s light.

“It’s perfect, Satoru.”

Her voice called out to him and she interlocked her hand with his and she leaned forward. Her nose touching the tip of his own. “Satoru, do you remember our first kiss?”

“I do,” He whispered with a childish grin, “You were practically begging me with those pretty eyes of yours. I couldn’t resist.”

“Are you going to resist today?” She asked innocently.

Gojo slipped his other hand behind her neck and shook his head, “I never can.” Then he planted his lips onto her waiting ones. This blooming love was going to grow this time, Gojo promised within. He wasn’t going to let his regrets and sorrows hold him back. He pushed her away once and she never fought back.

Now that he had her, he wasn’t going to let her go.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Gojo was showing Yuji around the school after he was allowed to freely walk the school grounds. He was excited to start a new life at this school and make new friends. His new teacher was babbling about life at Jujustu High when a voice growled at him.

“Oi, brat.”

Yuji could hear his sensei’s voice fade away when Sukuna spoke to him. That cursed being was louder than his own. It was quite annoying.

“What is it this time? Gojo-sensei irritating you again by-”

“Shut up and listen.”

Yuji closed his mouth and there was a soft melody that caught the attention of his ears. It sounded nice and peaceful. Before he knew it, his feet were taking him in the direction where the soft melody was playing.

And his eyes looked at the entrance of a garden. There was an archway of sunflowers while the main entrance was filled with different colored rose bushes. A bench was on the right side with a trash bin, then the stone path led into a maze-like area where more flowers were planted.

“Wow, who knew the principal and Gojo-sensei could take care of a garden like this.”

“This isn’t the work of stupid men. This is a woman’s touch.”

Sukuna growled in Yuji’s head and the teenage boy could agree with him a bit. Was he going to admit it?

“You don’t have to. I can hear your thoughts.”

Yuji rolled his eyes and continued to go into the garden. Although the soft melody stopped, he felt that he was going the right way because of the atmosphere. There was something that was calling out to him and Yuji felt at home the closer he got to whatever he was looking for.

After a few minutes of walking in the maze, Yuji’s eyes scanned the new area he was in. If he was right, he knows he’s at the center of the garden with the hedges towering over him. The area was circular with shallow pools around the smooth arches. He spotted koi fish swimming along the lily pads and dragonflies resting on them.

The smooth pebbles crunched beneath his shoes as he walked along the path into the center. What caught his eyes the most was the single red rose that sparkled in the glass container on a stone pillar. He was so mesmerized by the image and he walked closer to it.

His hand reached out to the glass container and he pulled back instantly when a voice spoke to him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

He peeked around the single rose and saw a woman kneeling down on the pebbles behind it. She was wearing a red blouse and black slacks with her red heels by her bag of fish food. “That glass container is surrounded by blessed energy, it’ll hurt the demon inside you a lot.”

“Ah, I’m so sorry for intruding!” Yuji bowed a million times and the woman chuckled with her hand lifted up to her smile. She pushed herself off the floor away from the koi fish that begged for her attention. She grabbed her heels in one hand and walked to the pillar that showed off the rose.

“You can touch it if you want though. It won’t hurt you as much as it will for him.”

Yuji tilted his head in confusion while Sukuna snapped, “You better not! I’ll kill you!”

Yuji looked from the flower and back to the woman who proceeded to give him a kind smile. She gestured to the flower with her soft hands and cooed, “I promise you it’ll just be a tingle of electricity for you, Yuji.”

He didn’t question how she knew his name. Instead he reached his hand out to the glass and palmed the top of the oval shape. Yuji chuckled and felt the tingles of electricity traveling up his arm and looping around his whole body. “Whoa~ You’re right! It’s like waking up my foot when it falls asleep! It’s so weird!”

[Name] hummed and asked, “How does Sukuna feel?”

Yuji released the hold on the glass and wiped his hand on his uniform. He wasn't hearing anything from the cursed king. “Uhhh, he’s not saying anything actually. He’s very silent right now.”

[Name] pressed her lips in a thin line and said softly, “Good, that tends to happen when blessed and cursed energy clash. Blessed energy will always overpower cursed energy, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. With blessed energy, I can exercise curses with a swipe of my hand. I can heal wounds inflicted by curses. But it takes a lot of energy out of me. Lowering the barrier for you to interact with the glass was a risky move, but Sukuna is weak right now.”

The woman laid her hands on the glass and a flash of gold blinded Yuji to which he covered his eyes quickly. Then he blinked a few times to see thorny vines rise up from the ground to wrap itself around the pillar then the glass which the red rose was in.

“Please, don’t touch this glass anymore. The barrier is much stronger and the electric shock can stop your heart.”

Her voice was gentle, but the warning was harsh. Yuji swallowed the lump in his throat and he looked around the area awkwardly. He didn’t know what to say next. He doesn’t even know how to leave the maze.

“So what’s your name?” He asked stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“My name is [Name], but respectfully, it is Go-”

“Sing that wretched song, whore.”

Yuji slapped the mouth that appeared on the side of his cheek suddenly and he looked at [Name] nervously. “It-It seems Sukuna is back from the dead…aha..”

[Name] stared at Yuji with wide eyes as she walked up closer to him. Her hand laid gently on his and she pulled it away from the smaller mouth that cursed at her. “And what song is it that you want to hear?” She asked and resisted the urge to poke Sukuna’s one eye ball underneath Yuji’s eye.

“Traitorous bitch, you should know what song I’m talking about. The melody you played to catch my attention and led me into the garden. That song.”

“Ahh~” [Name] whispered and backed away from Yuji, “that song is for her lover. It’s not meant to be sung for you. I only played that melody on the music box to ease her soul. She felt you, you know? Your disgusting energy doesn’t mix with her holy one.”

“Sing that song!”

Yuji flinched from the outburst Sukuna had and he was surprised to see the woman stand tall and confident in his presence. Without saying anything, she pulled a small music box from her pocket and set it on the pillar. [Name] twisted the knob sticking out and let the melody play.

She walked up to Yuji and took his hands into her own. She laid his right hand on her waist and kept his left hand in her right one. She began leading him into a dance and Yuji fumbled a bit while Sukuna scolded him, “Don’t mess up the flow. She won’t connect with us if you don’t follow her lead.”

“What are you talking about? I seriously have no idea what’s going on!” Yuji silently yelled at Sukuna as he watched the woman’s [e.color] eyes flicker with a hint of gold in them.

“Cruel and cold, like winds in the sea.” [Name] sung softly to Yuji and Sukuna leading them in her dance of song.

“Will you ever return to me?” Yuji subconsciously followed [Name]’s footsteps as he began to lose himself in her beautiful eyes.

“Hear my voice, sing with the tide.” They danced around the red rose and it was starting to glow the same golden color that was in her eyes.

“My love will never die.” Yuji looked back at the woman and the scenery changed around them when he did. The air around them was warm and he felt his bare feet dig into the sand below him. “Wait, where are my shoes?” He questioned and looked around him again.

They weren’t in the garden instead they were at a beach and the woman was kneeling down in the sand holding onto a red rose desperately. “Sukuna, where are we?’

“Shut up and pay attention.”

Yuji stopped asking questions and from the corner of his eyes he watched a man with white hair approach the woman with [h.color] hair. The woman didn’t stop singing nor did she acknowledge Yuji’s presence anymore.

“Over waves and deep in the blue.” The man with striking blue eyes raised the woman to a standing position.

“I will give up my heart for you.” The woman smiled up at the man and handed him the rose with a loving look in her eyes.

“Ten long years I’ll wait to go by. My love will never die.” The man accepted the rose and pulled her in for a kiss until they both stopped to look straight at Yuji. The woman’s eyes were full of fear while the man was full of anger.

The man put his hands on her face and sang to her, but it was still the woman’s voice, “Come, my love, be one with the sea.”

“Rule with me for eternity.” The man was pleading with her as he tried to shake her from her stupor. But she couldn’t keep her eyes off Yuji.

“Drown all dreams so mercilessly and leave their souls to me.” The warm atmosphere was turning cold and Yuji felt a shiver run up his spine. The once blue sky was turning into a deep red color and the sea was dark and murky.

“Play the song you sang long ago.” The man with white hair released her and stood in front of her protectively. His deadly blue eyes staring directly at Yuji to instill fear in him. It worked, Yuji was afraid, but his feet dug deeper into the stand.

“And wherever the storm may blow, you will find the key to my heart. We’ll never be apart.” The man raised his head up high, challenging Yuji to take away his woman. But the teenager wasn’t that dumb. There was no way- What the?!

Yuji’s body started moving on its own towards the couple and before the two could start fighting, the woman stepped in between the two with tears in her eyes. Yuji could see her giving up herself to him to save her lover from his rage.

Yuji roughly grabbed onto her arm and dragged her across the sand. He was suddenly stopped when the woman was grabbed by her lover. The white haired man stared into the woman’s eyes and sang, “Wild and strong, you can’t be contained.”

Yuji watched the woman look up at her lover and harshly jerked her wrist away from his tender gaze and grip. “Never bound nor ever chained,” The man reminded her and tried to get her to stay with him. He put the rose back into her hand.

But inside, Yuji knew she wasn’t going to let a war break out because of her choice. The man stared at her with his hair shadowing his eyes and his hands crackling with electricity, “Wounds you caused will never mend and you will never end.”

Yuji successfully took the woman away from the stranger and the scenery changed. He saw mangled corpses of humans littered across the floor and houses were destroyed in his wake of rage. When he saw his temple, Yuji tossed the woman into a cell and she sang the last part of the song. She crumbled to her knees, not even casting a glance his way.

The red rose was still in her hand, blood dripping down her arm as she clenched the thorny stem in her grasp. The blood ran down as fast as her silent tears did.

“Cruel and cold, like winds on the sea. Will you ever return to me? Hear my voice, sing with the tide. My love will never die.”

Yuji blinked and he was back in the garden with the woman staring at him with mild surprise. “That was all new for me. I’m sorry Yuji for letting you see that old memory of sorrow.” She apologized and bowed her head down in regret.

Meanwhile Yuji waved his hands and pointed at his cheek where Sukuna would pop out from, “If anything he should apologize! Seriously, don’t worry about it! To be honest, I had no idea what happened. Was I…Was I Sukuna?”

[Name] nodded her head and stared at the floor, “What you and I saw was a memory of the spirit that resides in that rose.” She pointed at the guarded rose and continued to explain to the teenage boy, “[L.Name] Nami was considered to be Sukuna’s lover by many sorcerers. They were further from the truth as Nami did not love Sukuna back and Sukuna could never love anyone. Instead she loved that man we saw at the beach. He was a powerful sorcerer and he rivaled Sukuna’s strength. He loved Nami more than she loved him, though she did love him immensely.”

Yuji felt extremely light headed as she explained the memory in depth. He saw quick flashes of the pictures again. “That man was willing to put his life and other lives at risk in order to save her from Sukuna. Yet she did not want that to happen. Nami did not see war as a solution, so she resigned her fate to be left in Sukuna’s hands.”

“That…How did her soul get sealed away in the rose?” Yuji asked feeling remorse for Nami. He couldn’t imagine the horrors she witnessed being locked up in a cell and being used by Sukuna.

[Name] placed her hands on her hips and looked at the rose intently, “God heard her pleas and provided her comfort in the thing she loved most beside Him and her lover. He let her soul rest peacefully in the red rose she cherished.”

“There you are!”

[Name] looked up and saw her fiance standing next to Yuji with his blindfold over his eyes. He clamped a strong hand down on Yuji’s shoulder and dipped down to his height to ask with a hint of a threat, “What did you do to my wife to make her blessed energy flicker in stress? You didn’t let Sukuna out did you?”

“Satoru,” [Name] spoke up for Yuji, “All Sukuna did was ask for me to sing a song. And my stress came from a memory Nami made Yuji and I see. I was afraid that this would harm Yuji, thankfully he is okay.”

Gojo removed his hand off Yuji’s shoulder and he walked up to [Name] with his hands holding her face. He looked down at her with deep admiration and…love? Yuji blinked and saw the couple at the beach before flickering back to reality. Was [L.Name] Nami’s old lover a member of the Gojo Family?

Yuji heard Sukuna chuckle darkly saying afterwards, “I’ll rip her from his hands again. Then I’ll show her who she truly belongs to.”

Yuji clenched his hands into tight fists and his eyes glared at the floor. He wasn’t going to let that happen. His sensei looked happy with [Name] and he was going to keep Sukuna far away from her.

“Satoru, please, not in front of Yuji,” [Name] bashfully backed away from Gojo’s kiss and the grown man pouted.

“Just one kiss!” Gojo shouted and [Name] quickly pressed a delicate kiss on his cheek.

“That should be enough for you,” She said, ignoring her pestering fiance who squeezed her in a giant hug demanding for more.

“It’s weird,” Yuji thought, analyzing the couple, “they look so much like the couple, but they’re different. [Name]-sensei is happy and full of life while Gojo-sensei shows no anger or murderous intent.”

That was only because Sukuna was not in their life. In this life, they could be together with no one separating one from the other.

#x reader #anime imagine #manga imagine #x female reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk x reader

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dearsnow · 1 year

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THE MOON WILL SING

- the moon hums a tune only elvish ears can pick up. (legolas x gn!human!reader, fluff, idk if you guys will be able to understand the symbolism but it makes sense to me…)

word count: 576

a/n - this is my first legolas piece :) it’s not the quality i would like it to be, but i came out of a writing slump not too long ago so 🤷 it is what it is <3 much thanks to @minaturefics for inspiring this 💕

For once, the night is peaceful. The birds are chirping, as are the crickets, and the trees are swaying to their tune. There are creaks and chitters, crackles and buzzes and the occasional snore from the fellowship sleeping so close to you. The forest is alive, and it is the greatest thing you have ever heard. The melody is softer than music and louder than thunder, existing in a sort of beautiful in-between. The world is perfect, you think. Nothing can compare. And, of course, the world gave you the elf sitting quietly next to you.

“Could you not sleep either?” You whisper, not wanting to disturb the woodsy strums filtering through the wildlife around you. Legolas shakes his head.

“It is a heavenly night.” He whispers back. “It is times like these when I can hear the moon sing her quiet song.” His figure is illuminated by starlight, casting his features in an otherworldly glow. In that moment, he looks ethereal. He picks a fallen leaf between his fingers and smoothes it with a gentle touch.

You look up at the sky, and he looks at you. “What is she saying?” You ask.

He takes a breath, his words forming clouds in the air. “Something joyous in words I cannot begin to understand.” He places the leaf down, grasping your hands in his. “She tells me something, in thought.” He murmurs, looking deep into your eyes. His own are like pools that forever draw you in. “She tells me that I love you like her.”

You are stunned for a moment. You know he likes you, as you do him, but love is another thing entirely. It is something you feel in kind, though you have not found the words to express it until now. You grip his hands back, searching for something to ground you in this moment. All you can find is soft palms and the stars urging you forward. “And I love you like the sun.” You choke out. There is something so beautifully tender in his gaze. “You may ask the sun in the morning, though. I am sure they will say the same.” He laughs gently and quietly, a melodious sound.

“I will be sure to.” He reasons. He reaches out to cup your face in his palms. “You must rest, meleth nin.” His fingers swipe over your cheekbones.

You hesitate. “I would not want to on this comely night, unless you slept as well.” He squints at you, the action just barely visible in the night.

“I need not to, though I will lie with you if that is what you wish.” He smiles. His smile is one you have adored since the moment you met him. You have adored him since the moment you met him, and this midnight interaction is proof enough. There will never be another being so suited to you as he.

“I wish it.” You say quietly, tone hopeful. He nods just once and wraps his arm around you, slowly pulling you down to the plush forest floor.

You stay like that for a long time, with his touch sending fire through your veins as his breath lulls you to sleep. The swaying forest and the beaming moon look down on you. Though it is too hushed for you to hear, the moon will always sing her song to deaf ears. And, of course, Legolas will always be there to sing it to you.

Taglist (misc): @skeletonfromthecloset

#solar eclipse.#legolas x reader #legolas greenleaf #legolas #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #lord of the rings #lotr imagine #lotr #lotr x reader #lotr elves #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #lord of the rings x y/n #lotr fluff #lotr fanfic #lotr fic

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yearningaces · 2 months

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... So uh

I understand my current want story wise and it's nothing sexual as always, but idk if it's wholesome either ...

But how many stories have the villain, the monster offer a hand out to the heroine, the hero? 'Join me, leave them, we can rule together!'

Is no one else tempted by that? No? Just me?

What if I say the villain is a creature of eldritch domain? That when they extend their palm to the sky, eyes open across the cosmos, that they are the ancient evil held at bay by sticks and twine and are freed by you.

Because you're the underdog of your team of heroes. You, the one that everyone feels they have to look after. You're still helping people, if anything more ernest than those you work with.

But in your frustration over being overlooked, you leave into the twisted forest that always seems to welcome you with overcast skies and curving shadows.

Your team is scared of this place. They say it feels unwelcoming.

You, however, have not once, not twice, but over a dozen times fell asleep out there. No bugs to crawl over you, no birds to swoop over, no animals at all really. Yes, it's strange, but in a way it feels safe, and the very ground seems to soften under you each time you sit back against a tree that feels more like a bed than hard dead bark.

Only today while exploring, you find a cavern opening. And something draws you down, the alarm bells in your head soothed by something unknown as if silenced.

The cavern leads into a chamber, massive and dark. Ancient depictions of something looming over the lands with a face in the clouds.

And in the center of this ornate chamber, is a pedestal. On top of it, a wooden, obsidian, and silver box. There's multiple languages carved into it.

'Öppnas Ej, لا تفتح, Не відчиняти, No Abrir, Älä avaa, Neotvírat, Mawungavuli, 请勿打开. Do Not Open.'

At the severe warning, you attempt to step back, until-

'Such a precious jewel you are. Have you finally found me?'

The words ride the breeze that flows through the chambers. Just reaching your ears, tingling your brain as you're frozen.

'Quite a pretty box, no? It would be a shame to leave it unadmired.'

You can't stop your hands from reaching out, as if something guides your motions.

The box is heavy, and warm.

'So lovely you are, and you listen so very well. Aren't you a treasure to be found?'

Does anyone even give you a second glance? Or do they only look at your team and brush you off. Don't you want these soft words, even for just a moment or two? It can't hurt you ... It's just words.

'I was like you, beloved one. The forgotten.'

The chamber shakes as the voice twist from soft to a harsh rumble.

'I made it so they could never forget myself again.'

And instantly, everything stops, and the haze over your mind softens even further, warming you, settling into your very bones.

'I would never forget you, I would care, I would hear you. Would you allow it?'

"... How?"

The voice croons sweetly in your ears, the box pulsing in your hands as if you hold a beating heart. 'My darling, I would craft you a throne of jewels to be placed beside my own of bone. I would forever be beside you as we ensure our names are no longer forgotten, together.'

And with just a hint of 'i don't believe you', you respond. "What if I want a bone throne too?"

The voice rumbles a deep laugh, shaking the chamber once more. 'Then I will drag a skull and jaw of the largest beast that has walked these lands up from its earthly grave and fasten it as your throne. Would this please you my sweet?'

"It would." You state after a moment because fuck yeah you deserve a metal throne too.

'Then open the box. And I will do all of this, and more.' The voice responds, stronger now but just as sweet.

Your hand nearly automatically grabs the lid, and before you can think-

"STOP!" Your team is behind you, hands out, enraged faces and expressions as if they're about to step forward and lash out at you.

But the chamber seems to tear itself apart, ceiling crashing down around your team, trapping them away from you as the voice so sweetly rumbles in your ears.

'Open the box, precious one. Open it and you will be safe, and adored. You will rule beside me as we ensure we are never forgotten again. Open it open it open it-'

"If you open that, we'll have to take you down as well!"

'Listen to your so called 'team', they threaten you, they belittle and mock you, and they believe that they could stop me-' the voice breaks into laughter as if amused while it continues. 'They do not care for you as I do. I have seen you in my domains, have I not welcomed you? Granted you safe passage and rest? Have I not cared for you before you even know my name? I will care, they never will so much as pretend.'

"Don't open it, it's lying to you, it's just going to kill you along with everyone else here! You can't trust that thing!"

'Can they be trusted then?'

With so many voices growing in volume, crowding the once silent room it's too loud, you can't think, you want to leave, but you have to do something and any chance for a better life is worth it and-

"You did it." The voice rumbles in approval. "My precious little human. You made the correct choice."

You can hear the suddenly real and tangible voice murmur in low tone before the now opened box erupts with darkness and living shadows bursting from it. Like Pandora's box, everything contained is freed now.

The room swirls with a dark storm, blowing your teammates out of the chamber, bursting the rot and root and soil aside as a figure tall enough to reach the clouds forms, letting out a loud bellowing roar as it forms. Darkness swarms from it, the sun concealed in shadow.

You start to fumble back as it easily swats aside those it deems too close.

And then it looks down.

It looks at you.

Instantly a hand of darkness forms under you, bringing you up until you're before these eyes that glow with colors that make your mind fuzzy because you shouldn't be able to see this, these aren't colors you can describe or understand but you're seeing them somehow and your brain tingles, your eyes water at the sight. The eyes ripple, and the booming voice of the sky dwelling face speaks. It's mouth opening as a world of fuzzy, glowing hues seeps from the cracks in its maw.

"You have done well, my dearest."

You feel your bones tremble.

The world shifting and churning from the influence of this ... Thing.

"As promised, your reward, a lifetime of everything you deserve, and more."

This is it. This is where you're tossed into some pit for listening and betraying your own, just like in the movies and in the books. The thing waves it's hand and you're eyes flicker to see what sort of eternity of anguish you'll have and-

...

... It's a temple. Marble and quartz colums holding up high arching walls that stretch so far up you can't see the end. Dark colored draperies line the walls, and an expansive table of every food known to man is perfectly prepared, steaming hot to ice cold, stagnating in that perfect time, waiting to be eaten. The hand holding you gingerly places you down into a chair as the being condenses itself as best it can into a figure that's three times your size but far more manageable.

It looms over the back of your chair, lowering to press a soft kiss to the top of your head, taking your wrist into its hand to guide your hand to your plate.

"Feast now, beloved. We may not lay ruin to this world when you have not eaten yet this sun cycle. A nap afterwards, as we must be at our best before I bring you to your throne. Now, why don't you tell me all about what you adore in this universe so I might spare it in the name of my savior and darling."

...

Well, you're not going to complain, are you?

#letters of yearning #hero x villain #villain x reader #technically its those catagories so 👀#monster lover #x reader #monster x reader

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erravity · 30 days

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“𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥”

IZUKU MIDORIYA x reader

summary: you’ve been dating for three months, and you have never kissed. Izuku either got too nervous or with all of the things happening at UA you just never got a chance, until now.

Y/n and Izuku's hands were clutching each other, it was the only barrier between the pair. They strolled the vacant town to celebrate the holiday that's been marked on their calendars from the start. It was their anniversary.

This one was particularly important, it symbolized that 3 months ago Izuku had awkwardly confessed to y/n without realizing, which luckily sparked a mutual connection between the two.

Their hands swung between them, and the birds made light sounds from the nearby power line. Izuku's mind wasn't nervous at the feeling of his clammy hand intertwining into hers anymore. When they first started dating, he avoided anything physical. This included: hugging, holding hands, cuddling, even kissing.

The thought alone of there being a possibility of him getting the chance to kiss her made his hand tighten within hers.

While the overwhelming thoughts raced his mind, he converted his focus to his feet. The rhythm he was walking in matched her movements perfectly. The sides of his red shoes were wet, the rain water from the previous day still being remnant.

The girl, y/n, walked with a gentle sway in her step, her eyes scanning the quiet shopfronts and empty benches with a soft curiosity. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of jeans, her oversized sweater laying on top of her hand. The fabric a stark contrast to the boy's vibrant locks that danced in the cool breeze. The boy beside her, Izuku, was the picture of absent-minded, his thoughts racing faster than his feet.

Izuku's eyes darted to their entwined hands every few moments, as if to reassure himself that it was indeed real. His thumb traced circles on her palm.

"You're sure you don't mind?" Izuku asked, his voice a gentle rumble in the serene afternoon. He still got anxious at physical contact sometimes. While His gaze remained focused on the cobblestone path, his mind raced with thoughts he hadn't yet shared.

Y/n smiled warmly, her eyes never leaving the quiet street ahead. "Not at all," she said, her voice a soothing melody to his ears. "I enjoy walking with you.” She knew he was referring to the hands between them, but she ignored it.

The breeze picked up, rustling the leaves of the street-side trees. The chilly air kissed their cheeks, a reminder that summer had kissed the town goodbye. A few golden leaves danced around their sneakers, painting the path with an autumnal hue. Izuku's heart pounded in his chest, each step bringing him closer to the actions he longed to do.

They approached the park, the swings swaying lazily in the background like silent sentinels of their distant childhood. The benches were empty, except for a solitary old man feeding pigeons. The world felt as if it had paused just for them, the only sound the distant laughter of children playing tag echoing through the trees.

Y/n's curiosity grew with each step. "What's on your mind, Izuku?" she inquired, her gaze finally settling on his profile.

He took a deep breath, his eyes lingering on her for a brief moment before returning to the path. "It's just... I've been thinking a lot lately," he began, his voice a tentative whisper in the cool air.

The setting sun painted the sky with strokes of pink and orange, the light playing with the strands of his hair. Y/n felt a pang of affection, her grip on his hand tightening slightly. "You can tell me anything," she assured him, her eyes reflecting the warmth of her words.

Izuku swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I... I don't know how to say it," he confessed, his eyes betraying his anxiety.

They stopped at the edge of the park, the swings casting long shadows across the grass. Y/n turned to face him, her gaze filled with patience and understanding. "Take your time," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the distant giggles of children.

He nodded, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took. "I just... I don't want to mess this up," he murmured, his thumb tracing the back of her hand with featherlight touches.

Y/n's heart skipped a beat, her eyes searching his for the unspoken message. She knew he was holding something back, something important. And she was ready to listen.

"You're overthinking it," Y/n said gently, her eyes reflecting the warm glow of the setting sun.

He looked down at their intertwined fingers, feeling the comforting pressure of her hand in his. "What if I do the wrong thing?"

"You won't," she assured him, a soft smile playing on her lips. "We've been through so much already."

He couldn't argue with that. Their relationship had been a series of unexpected twists and turns, but here they were, standing in the quiet embrace of the early evening, the world around them seemingly on pause.

With a sigh, he lifted his eyes to hers, the depth of his feelings reflected in the pools of green. "I know," he said, his voice stronger now. "But I want this to be perfect."

Y/n's eyebrows furrowed as her eyes squinted, the expression of confusion clear on her face. Her eyes met his, his were filled with his usual admiration and it made her know what was about to happen.

Y/n stepped closer, her body brushing against his. She placed her free hand on his chest, feeling the unsteady beat of his heart. "It doesn't have to be perfect," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "It just has to be us."

Her words resonated within him, and he knew she was right. He leaned in, his heart racing as their faces grew closer. The scent of her perfume, a soft blend of vanilla and jasmine, filled his senses, and he felt a warmth spread through his body like a gentle summer breeze.

Their lips met for the first time, a soft, tentative kiss that grew in intensity as the moments stretched out. The metallic smell of the rusted swings mingled with the sweetness of her mouth, and the sound of the chains squeaking in the background became a rhythmic melody to their silent exchange.

The world outside the park grew fuzzy around the edges as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. The laughter of the children playing grew distant, replaced by the sound of their mingled breaths and the pounding of their hearts.

Y/n's hand slid up to cradle his neck, her thumb brushing against the sharpness of his jaw. He deepened the kiss, feeling a surge of emotion that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

When they finally pulled apart, the world snapped back into focus, and they were greeted by the sight of the vibrant oranges and pinks of the sunset, painting the sky above them.

They stepped back, their hands joined again, and took in the beauty of the scene around them. The swings swayed gently, and the first stars began to appear, twinkling like shy spectators to their moment.

With a newfound sense of confidence, he took her hand and led her back onto the path, their steps in sync as they headed back to the dormitory. The first kiss was behind them, but the adventure was just beginning.

#boku no hero academia #izuku midoriya #romantic #fanfic #autumn #fall aesthetic #mha #deku #x reader #deku x reader #mha izuku #izuku x reader #green #orange #cute #fluff

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jellyfitzjelly · 3 months

Text

@orehuna asked me this prompt, how could I resist? 😌 GN!Tav with deliberately vague terms. [READ ON AO3] NSFW: voyeurism, masturbation

Zevlor needed some time off. All the problems he was facing in the Grove was wearing on him, but he would be damned if he showed it. His people were counting on him. He couldn't let them down. He decided to take a walk in the forest nearby. Zevlor had to take his commanding voice to make sure Tilses didn't follow him. He needed to be alone.

Strolling in the calm of the forest was refreshing. All he could hear was the birds singing. Suddenly whimpers echoed. Zevlor stopped in his tracks, listening in. Moans could be heard. The old Commander made his way to the source, concerned. Was this a goblin attack? He needed to ascertain the situation before he could get help. He prayed the gods for only goblins. Gnolls were worse. He froze in the bushes when he recognized Tav, sat against a tree in a clearing...

...and with a hand down their opened pants.

Zevlor felt himself flush with embarrassment. He retraced his steps slowly, careful not to make any sound so he could left the adventurer to their pleasure.

"Ah, Zevlor!"

The Commander froze, panic rising. He was discovered! He turned around, seeing Tav had their eyes closed.

"Yes, Zevlor! Just like that!" they moaned.

It was only then that the tiefling realized what was happening. They were fantasizing about him! Ilmater's ashes, he should leave. He should retrace his steps and pretend this never happened. That was the bare minimum of respect he could give the person who saved his people from a goblin attack when that idiot of Aradin ran back.

Instead, he approached silently and chose a hiding spot where he had a better view, heart racing. Tav's movement seemed to grow more hurried, before they abruptly stopped. They got rid of their pants as quickly as they could, kicking them aside before spreading their legs and making themselves comfortable. Zevlor felt shame burn hot in his belly as he stared at Tav's sex, arousal starting to stir. The adventurer resumed their ministrations, more urgently than before.

"Zevlor! Yes! Please!" they moaned, arching their back.

The Commander pressed a palm against his hardening cock in his pants. Gods, it had been so long since he had had the time to take care of his needs. His hips rutted against the heel of his hand, sparking pleasure within him as he watched Tav masturbate, moaning his name so prettily.

He had denied his attraction to them as hard as he could because of his duty, but here he couldn't deny himself any longer. He wanted them. He wanted to step forward and slip his cock in their core and fuck them hard against the tree. Zevlor had to contain a moan of his own as Tav quickened their pace again.

The Commander opened his pants and freed his cock, matching the adventurer's desperate pace. He wouldn't last long like this, release already coiling tight in his stomach, but he knew Tav wouldn't either. He fucked his fist with abandon, biting his lip to stay silent as he watched them pleasure themselves.

"Yes! Zevlor, come for me! Please! Yes!" they cried out as they came.

Zevlor could only obey. He bit his hand as he came shaking, spilling on the forest bed as he watched them in the throes of ecstasy. For what seemed an eternity, Zevlor's mind stayed hazy with bliss as he watched Tav go limp and slump against the tree.

Shame fell upon him not long after. What in the nine Hells was he thinking?! How could he behave like an old lecher, spying on a kid half his age? Zevlor shook himself, cursing himself in his head as he righted himself and left in haste, speeding to return to the Grove as shame burned hot in his belly. Did he truly just debase himself like this? What would Tav say had they seen him? Zevlor returned to the cave to bury himself in work.

And yet when night came, Zevlor rolled on his belly, shoved his bunched up pillow against his pelvis and fucked it hard as he replayed the afternoon's scene, imagining himself fucking Tav doggy style as if they were nothing but a whore, pulling on their hair as he buried himself deep in them. Zevlor bit his fist to keep silent as he pleasured himself like this, only stopping when he spilled.

"Ilmater's ashes, I am nothing but a pervert," he murmured, out of breath.

Yet, he had to admit that Tav was thinking about him when they pleasured themselves. Perhaps... Perhaps this attraction of his was, in fact, returned... He'd have to pay Tav a visit to their camp tomorrow night to find out.

#zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #mine bg3 #my fanfictions

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m1d-45 · 2 years

Note

if my favorite characters wanted to kill me i would simply let them. my only request would be that they do it from up close so that their pretty faces get to be the last thing i see <3<3<3

on broken bones

a/n: you…. you are my target audience.

(P.S: please note that the full fic was too long for tumblr! this will be in 3-4 parts, but dw, they’re all already mostly written!)

word count: ~2.5k

-> warnings: minor spoilers for liyue archon quest, the most minor of spoilers for mondstat’s archon quest, you are literally about to die, and do so but it’s ok i get revived, uhh blood mention but no gore, imposter au things yk? reader is Down Bad for zhongli at one point

-> lowercase intended!

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3

< masterlist > || next part >>

you never had the highest level of self-preservation.

when you’d come to teyvat, the world seemed so kind, so you never learned to fear it. bugs never stung, any allergies you had never really acted up besides a sniffly nose, and the sun never burned. if you tripped, you landed softly, in the hands of grass that would never dare to harm you, and a breeze swept by the soothe the sting of your palms. the wind carried you down from high places, the water always keeping you afloat, the entirety of the natural world at your side.

or, rather, nearly the entirety.

despite wandering constantly, it took a few months to actually run into anybody. in fact, the only way you knew you were in teyvat at first were the sunsettias, and the hilichurls when you finally came across one of their camps. you have a feeling the dense forests and overgrown paths knew something you didn’t, looking back on it.

maybe you should have listened.

you stopped in the middle of a well-worn path of yours, stilling the sweet flower you were twirling in your hand. a few feet ahead, a stunned amber mirrored your look of shock, though her recognition was tinged with something more… bitter.

“amber?”

the bowstring in her hands doesn’t lose its tension. “greetings.”

that’s not the knights’ prescribed greeting, your mind says. you tell your mind to shut up, because that’s not what you should be thinking about when you’re looking at amber.

you wave, trying for a smile, and emotions you can’t catch flash over her face in rapid succession.

“how do you know my name?”

whoops. “who hasn’t heard of the knights of favonius?”

“those from other lands.” for being so young, her voice is so tired. she sounds like she’s barely 18, yet she’s so worn out… nobody this young should be so exhausted.

after a moment’s thought, you step forward, extending your flower-

her arm moves faster than you ever could, raising, aiming, and letting the arrow fly before you can blink. her shoulders are tense, her chest barely moving despite how harshly she breathes, arms still posed around her bow.

it’s only then that you’re aware of the white-hot pain in your throat, the sting of icy numbness swiftly taking its place.

the sweet flower falls to the ground, your body soon following.

when you wake up, the first thing you do is press a hand over your throat, but all you feel is the chill of your own skin. no arrow. no blood. you check your shirt, but there’s no blood there either.

it’s like it never happened. but you know it did.

still keeping a hand to the area, you sit up, ignoring how your body protests. you’re in another field, unsurprisingly, green grass and blue skies and red birds all around. it’s hard to believe that your run-in with amber wasn’t a dream.

even if you know it wasn’t.

you rise shakily, feeling very much so like you’re relearning your body. how to stand, how to dig your fingers between the sections of bark on a tree so you don’t fall, how to breathe when it feels like all the air in your lungs was in a race to get out. still, you breathe.

still, you stand.

still, you move on.

the earth seems angry.

looking out from the jade chamber, this is clear. the skies are an irritated gray, billowing clouds heavy with rain. they had come from nowhere, suddenly washing in from the north in with no warning, but a single drop has yet to fall. the ground occasionally shakes, enough to make leaves quiver, but no earthquake has come. it’s odd, like the very rock is holding in its breath, waiting for the trigger to let loose what is certainly disaster upon the land above it.

even the tianquan’s gems, normally large, sterling rocks swirling around her fingertips, refuse to answer her call. as she flips over a small coin of amber, the most she’s been able to summon, she wonders why.

one of ningguang’s many assistants comes out of the chamber, telling her that keqing has a report for her, and she tells them to send her out with a wave of a clawed finger. normally, she’d come inside—normally she wouldn’t be out here to begin with—but this… oddity in the landscape has her attention.

the door behind her silently slides open and shut, the clicks of the yuheng’s shoes the only indication of her presence.

“it’s odd to see you outside at such an hour, my lady.”

it’s midday.

“what is it, keqing?”

“this letter came in for you.”

an envelope enters her periphery and she takes it, careful not to damage the paper as she inspects the wax seal. it bears the insignia of the favonian knights.

“that’s hardly a rare occurrence.”

“indeed, but this one carries significant importance.” she takes a breath, an explanation on her tongue, but it dies. she knows she shouldn’t let her biases get in the way of the tianquan’s work, but this situation feels so wrong. her vision burns at the back of her neck despite her attacks doing less damage, the electro that dances across her skin hurts more than it should. it’s wrong, horribly so, but she needs to-

“keqing?”

she meets the tianquan’s eyes. ruby red dissecting her every move, and keqing is quick to look away.

“apologies, my lady. as i was saying…”

the dead refuse to rest.

they have always been unruly, leaving behind legacies and lingering feelings, leaving the living and letting them deal with it. what would be known as the wangsheng funeral parlor was established to battle these lingering debts, and it seems that even after 77 generations, the current director still has to pick up that mantle.

she’s felt it all day. the rowdiness of the undead, the spirits dancing and twirling around where they shouldn’t be. her soul told her there was one too many around, and so she had set her mind on going.

the director adjusted the flowers in her hat, watching in annoyance as her consultant thought over her words. she thought the answer was quite simple, and had rushed to fix the problem, but he was adamant that she explain herself first.

“and you’re certain?”

hu tao groaned, squeezing her eyes shut so they wouldn’t roll. “yes, i’m certain! surely youve noticed too, or is that vision for nothing?”

a glimmer of irritation crossed zhongli’s calm eyes. “this is a matter of utmost importance, director. the dead refusing to die is a serious issue.”

“you think i don’t know that? i run a funeral parlor-“

“director-“

“no. i’m going to wuwang hill, and all i need you to do is take care of the parlor while i’m gone. that’s it.”

“director, please. you cannot throw yourself into dangerous situations and expect me to sit by idly.”

“what are you, my dad?”

“i would hope not, as your father is currently deceased.”

in the gaping silence that followed, hu tao couldn’t decide if she was more shocked at the fact that he brought up her father’s passing, or that he had borderline joked about it.

zhongli cleared his throat, the only sign of apology she would receive. “i will go alone if i must.”

“you want to go-“

“indeed. i cannot allow you to venture into such an unsafe area on your own, and i myself wish to find the answer to this. if you cannot find anybody to run the parlor in your stead, then i will simply go alone.”

names and faces of employees ran through her head, options brought up and discarded quicker than any decision she’s ever made before. something in her soul demanded she go to wuwang hill, her pyro vision an insistent press between her shoulder blades, urging her to leave zhongli and just go. it was illogical, irrational, and she knew that if he saw he’d be worried and when all she needed was to simply leave-

a name emerged from the clutter.

“ferrylady.”

though his jaw ticked, zhongli nodded.

wuwang hill itself is uneasy.

zhongli has seen many things during his lifetime, but few of his memories could compare to this. the ground quivered underneath his feet, only truly steadying where he, as the lord of geo, stepped.

in truth, he had felt the same disturbance as hu tao, but had wanted to preserve his reputation as zhongli, ignoring the cold sting in his soul from where his gnosis used to be. his plan was to go after hours, when the dark could shadow his form, but now that he was here he was glad he didn’t.

the forest’s canopy was denser than usual, it seemed, barely any light filtering through the leaves. the will-o’-the-wisps shone brighter and more frequently than normal, and not a hilichurl was in sight. it was strange, unnerving to walk the familiar path, and he found himself prepared to summon a stele at any moment. the air itself felt tense, his element not resonating right.

how can stone feel hollow?

hu tao stepped closer to him, eyes uncharacteristically wide as she looked around. “why does it feel so… empty?”

he moved a hand to her back, urging her on faster. “i don’t know, ms. hu. please, do hurry.”

her fingers play with the tassels on her shirt as she walks, speeding up at his side. she’s always been fond of the macabre, but this… this isn’t that. this isn’t slow and sticky, raw honey made of skeleton bees that drips through bones and pulls at the hair atop skin, this isn’t the abrupt hit of symbolism or the stop of a heart as you’re face to face with a corpse, the smell of rotting flesh mixing with the bile climbing up your throat.

this is sharp. angular. a spike with every step she takes on the familiar dirt, thorns clinging to the lining of her lungs and digging in to hide from the chilling air. the sense that she doesn’t belong here, that she should leave, is steadily growing in response to the drive to keep walking, and she wonders if and when it’ll balance before tipping over. regardless, she keeps walking, steeling her spine and forcing assuredness into her walk.

besides her, zhongli isn’t doing much better. the air reeks of the sweetness of the divine, and the thundering in his heart matches, but here? of all places? he knew his god—he prided himself on it—and knew that they didn’t like places like this. and the feeling of wrongness, the stone beneath him seeming to slip under his feet and forcing him to walk quicker to make up for it, the claws of tree branches and roots of bushes somehow larger than before. as they approached the stone steps, he didn’t know what to expect, for once. he was unsure whether to be on edge, or to scold himself for being tense over nothing.

surely, he thought, rounding the corner, it couldn’t be nothing?

you watched the water ripple from your safe spot on the edge of the stone path cutting through it, smiling at the way the fish followed your hand when you hovered it over the surface. they were beautiful, some kind of koi by the looks of it, and certainly not what you expected.

when you recognized the wisps of wuwang hill, you had initially been afraid. it was dark, even during the day, and filled with monsters. not to mention it held the barrier between life and death, something you were not keen on ever getting close to. but as the shouts of the qingce villagers echoed in your ears, you decided it was the safest option, at least for the moment.

and it was. there were no hilichurls, no cicin mages, and the wisps seemed to float alongside you, lighting the way for a while before another came up and took over. they’d guided you to the domain, whose stone was shockingly warm. it was the crimson witch domain from what you remember, so that checked out, but for it to physically affect the stone…

you wondered what the archaic petra domain would feel like if that were the case. could stone feel more stone-like? if you were to somehow break off a chunk, would it do more damage than a regular rock? would that even count as geo damage?

you let your hand trail across the water, feeling scales bump against the pads on your fingertips with another smile. you wondered where they got their food, as the pond seemed both shallow and fairly barren, but there seems to be more and more greenery as you look. were your eyes adjusting to the light better, or were they the kinds of plants that only bloomed under certain conditions? but no, that would be for flowers, not-

“who are you?”

the harsh voice makes you jump, the fish jerking back before crowding the water near where you’ve fallen over. your surprise nearly made you fall in, but as you see who’s approaching you, you think that might have been better.

boots stomp over the stone that’s been your tentative camp, not stopping until they land toe to toe with yours. eyes carved from cor lapis glare down at you, cutting any argument you may have had to shreds.

yes, partly because zhongli is intimidating, but…

lighter shoes click and draw your attention, but you don’t get to turn your head far before you’re met with the pulsing black and gold point of vortex vanquisher.

“do not interest yourself in that which is out of your reach.”

oh.

you swallow in attempt to remedy the sudden dryness in your throat, following the handle of the polearm up to meet his eyes once more. his eyeliner looks sharper than on his in-game model, you note, and he has an earring, the golden jewel on it a perfect complement.

his eyes narrow, the set of his jaw making you think he’d sneer if he were anybody else. he rips his polearm from the stone besides you, “what could you possibly be looking at?”

you know this is it. you know exactly why he hasn’t spun his weapon back around, you knew it from the moment his sunset gaze fell upon you. so.. why lie?

“you’re beautiful,” you whisper.

and for the second time that week, you die.

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quizzicalwriter · 10 months

Note

anything that involves cuddling/sfw sleeping with Dallas? maybe the reader is a bit clingy and shy 😻

Storms

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Thunderstorms had always been a safe haven for Dallas, now he’s finally able to share one with you.

Warnings: None! ‘cept for some kissing.

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 1.8k

Thunder shook the walls, ringing through your ears with the ferocity of a passing train. Each flinch earned you a gentle hush from Dallas, a kiss behind your ear, or a squeeze of his arms.

You’d never been one for violent storms. Calm storms you could handle, you loved the gentle lull of rain, the whisper of passing wind as it carried leaves off into a nearby neighborhood. But this? This was much different than what you’d grown accustomed to.

The radio had buzzed off a selection of warnings, interrupting your preferred music station in favor of warning people of the incoming wall of rain, as if you couldn’t see it by simply looking outdoors or sticking your hand out a nearby window for half a second.

Dallas, however, loved it.

It was something you hadn’t expected, but you weren’t surprised by either, given that he’d grown up in New York and had seen his fair share of hurricanes before he’d retreated to Oklahoma. He whispered tales of his youth against the shell of your ear, stories on how the rain had rattled the thin glass of his bedroom windows as a child, how he’d watch with childlike wonder as lightning illuminated the sky.

Dallas’s arms held you snugly by your middle, fingers fumbling with the soft fabric of your shirt as the rain pattered against the windowpane adjacent to his bed. Whenever lightning would crack across the midnight sky, he’d begin counting.

“One-“ He whispered, fingers drifting along your forearm. “Two-“

Before he reached three, thunder sounded through the air, the vibration felt deep within your chest. You could feel the rumble of his laughter against your back as he pressed kisses along the curve of your neck, his hold tightening as your worried eyes gazed out into the black ink of the night.

“Y’know why I count?” He asked. When you shook your head he hummed, adjusting himself to be closer to you as he threaded his fingers with yours, giving your palm a gentle squeeze. “Lets you know how far away the storm is.”

You didn’t know enough about the topic to dispute his words, nor did you want to. His voice had a calming nature to it, the deep vibrato resonating in your ribs, soothing your ever-beating heart into a calm rhythm. So you hummed back, tilting your head back slowly to push yourself closer to him, a move he accepted with a hushed ‘awe’.

“Poor thing.” He whispered, despite the caring nature he’d laced in his words, you could hear the smile tugging at the syllables, threatening to spill into a chuckle at your fear of the storm. “I’m here, doll. Storm can’t come inside.”

You laughed at that, turning halfway to look up at him. He smiled down at you, unlacing one of his hands from yours to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against the swell of your cheekbone.

“I know it can’t come inside.” You responded through your soft laughter. “Still, it’s loud. Loud noises scare me.”

He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, eyes never leaving yours as you gazed up at him. If you’d been anyone else, anyone at all, he would’ve laughed. But you looked pitiful, fearful in his hold as each rumble from the sky filled the silence.

“I know.” He murmured, brushing your hair back from your face as he spoke. “Want to know something?”

You nodded, lips quirking up into a smile as he gently pushed your cheek, forcing your attention back toward the window. His fingers continued brushing through your hair, nails gently scratching your scalp.

“Listen.”

You could hear it, the sound of wildlife, the branches of faraway trees cracking in the wind, the leaves tapping against the siding of the house. Crickets chirped, cicadas hummed, birds called from their well-protected nests. It all melded together, swirling into a makeshift melody, a lullaby.

“Nice, isn’t it?” He asked.

“Yeah,” You replied. “It is.”

You both stayed like that, curled underneath thin bedsheets, legs intertwined, sharing whispered words as the storm raged on overhead. He watched over your shoulder, eyes filled with the same childlike wonder that’d filled his mind in his youth as the sky came alive with brilliant flickers of light.

His adoration for the storm, the rain, the lightning, all of it - it soothed you. You felt at home in his grasp, heartbeats synchronized. Your foot brushed against his lower leg and down to his ankle, repeating the movement every few seconds as you twirled his ring against his finger.

Eventually, the storm passed, the only remnant of the chaos being the near-silent droplets of rainwater as it cascaded down from the roof, dripping down the windowpane in neat patterns. The moon shone through the clouds, peeking in through the raindrops, painting you both in a pale, patterned hue.

His hand cupped your jaw, turning your attention back to him. You gave him a tired smile as you situated yourself on your back, watching through half-lidded eyes as he propped himself up against his left arm.

“What?” You whispered, smiling through the word as his eyes danced over your face.

“Nothing.” He replied, although you knew what lingered beneath the words. Dallas was a man of few words, preferring to show how he felt through actions rather than relying on his mind to thread together a coherent sentence when all he wanted was to show you his love through stolen glances and kisses behind abandoned buildings.

“Sure.” You chuckled, lifting your hand to brush back his unruly hair, having been messed about from lying in one spot for too long. Yet even with sleep-tossed hair, he still looked gorgeous beneath the pale moonlight. You leaned up onto your elbows, hand drifting down to his jaw, fingers brushing against the muscle as you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was sweet, his lips moving slowly against yours as his hand moved to cup the back of your head, fingers entangling themselves in your hair. He made no move to maneuver himself atop of you, content with leaving the moment as it was without pushing it any farther.

His lips trailed from yours, delicate kisses placed against the bridge of your nose, then to the space between your eyebrows, as if he intended to map out your face with his lips. You giggled, eyes squinting shut with a smile so bright it caused his heart to skip a beat within his chest.

Dallas would be damned before he’d let anyone see him as you saw him in that moment; vulnerable, in love. Love was a dangerous thing, something that terrified him in the expanse of the night. Having you beneath him, beside him, eyes watching him with the same sense of longing he’d felt buried deep in his chest until he’d met you, you made the fear tolerable, worth it. You’d made every environment feel like home. No matter the place, the position - his heartbeat would match yours.

So for those nights, mornings, days - whenever the two of you had a moment of reprieve that wasn’t filled with bounds of chaos or company, he’d show you the parts of himself that terrified him, the vulnerability and urge to love something, protect something - you.

“You’re thinking too hard.” You hushed out, snapping him from the depth of his daydream as he looked down at you, thumb brushing against your temple.

“I was.” He replied, a soft laugh following the words. “Does that scare you? Me thinking?”

You snorted at his teasing words, shaking your head as you brushed your fingers through his hair.

“Doesn’t worry me.” You murmured. “Or scare me. Although I’m more used to Pony or Johnny going quiet when they think, not you.”

He couldn’t argue with your logic, he was known for speaking his mind at the worst of times, often causing trouble for himself when he couldn’t reel in his tongue. He hummed as he leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead.

“Just thinkin’ about you, doll. That’s all.”

His words intrigued you, eyebrows lifting at the thought of you occupying space in his mind, the sight leaving Dallas groaning, knowing he’d sunk himself into a hole he’d have to talk his way out of. You loved hearing what he thought about you, just as much as he loved hearing what you thought about him, even if he’d never admit it.

“Fine-“ He grunted, relenting with a roll of his eyes as he moved to sit up. You followed suit, folding your legs underneath yourself, resting your chin against your open palm, elbow propped up against your knee. Dallas smiled at the sight, your genuine curiosity about what went through his mind never failed to amaze him.

“I just-“ He started, clearing his throat with a subtle lift of his chin, eyes moving from yours. “I trust you, guess it confuses me or somethin’.”

“How so?”

“Well, it wasn’t- it wasn’t wise when I was growin’ up. Trustin’ somebody could get you hurt, you had to look out for yourself.” He replied, shifting himself to face you. “Took me long enough to trust the guys, and with you, it came naturally. Quickly. I never understood it, I still don’t sometimes.”

You smiled, the sight tugging at his heart just as it had earlier, along with all the times prior. He loved that you understood him, he never had to over-explain himself, what he did, why he did it, you simply understood. You knew about his past, as much as he’d been willing to tell you, anyhow. Some of the stories haunted you, the thought of him so young, so alone, it hurt your chest in a way you couldn’t put into words; and yet there he was, bold, brash, heavily sarcastic - alive.

“I’m glad you trust me.” You murmured through a smile, knee brushing against his as your hands fumbled with the outer trim of the shirt you wore, a shirt you’d so diligently stolen the moment you’d gotten into his apartment earlier on in the day. “I know it takes a lot.”

“Yeah,” he yawned out, stretching his arms over himself before wrapping them around your middle. The movement had been quick enough to startle a laugh out of you, but you made no move to stop him as he pulled you back down against the mattress, his legs immediately intertwining with yours.

You knew him well enough to know that was his way of ending a conversation kindly, not wanting to pry a subject to bits if he could help it. So your curiosity relented, satisfied with his expression of trust in you. You’d felt the same thing when you’d first met him, but you’d save that conversation for another time.

“Storm’s passed.” He mumbled, words nearly incomprehensible as he buried his face into the nape of your neck, his fingers threading with yours. “Ain’t scared anymore, are you?”

“With you?” You asked. “Never.”

A/N: I hope you guys like this one! It’s shorter than usual, but I loved writing it! Honestly, I love small moments shared between characters, hidden away from others. Lets you see their true character and I’m HERE for it. Anyhow, thank you all so much for the continuous love and support you show me and my work! I appreciate y’all so much! As always, you can find my work over on my AO3 under the username, “Unscriptural.”

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tojigasm · 1 year

Text

Raw

Authors note: another Sam Worthington fic for you, sweet angels!! This one can be read as a sequel to the first Sam fic I posted but can also be read as a stand-alone. This one is very much weird!reader coded and deranged <33 i hope you all enjoy!!

Warnings: nsfw 18+, minors DNI, smut, fluff, Dilf! Sam worthington, heavy obsession with one another, angst, reader is #weirdmanicpixiedreamgirl type beat, mentions of hurting oneself (not Self harm though), picking at scabs, petnames, Sam being very sweet and a good boyfriend

Synopsis

"I want you to eat me." You sob into the blankets, and you can hear Sam chuckle lightly behind you.

and God, you both want to consume one another. a dying urge to crawl into each other's arms until you mesh into one. he wants to bleed from you and run down your thighs and pick at your scabs until they burn and run rivers of velvet.

he doesn't question you. "How?" You feel his hand rest on the soft of your shoulder, turning your cheek to the duvet and you sob. "How would you like to be eaten?"

"Raw."

The air smells of wheat and lavender, and the lace tablecloth tickles the tops of your thighs in the gentle air.

"You have this look about you." Sam smiles, dimples soft against his cheeks. "Like you've seen everything and anything. Like you've lived too many lives to count."

His shoe toes at your Mary Jane, and you hum, taking a sip of your drink. Sea glass eyes focus in on you, and you flush under his warm gaze.

pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you turn away bashfully, focusing on the breathing trees and soft pillowy clouds that wave by.

The cafe Sam had picked was secluded enough for New York's standards of celebrity life. Tucked away in a quiet park that awarded a moment of gentle peace for the two of you.

Sam's hand cups your cheeks and turns you back to him. Sea glass eyes trace over you again, his lashes drooping in a gentle gaze.

"Where do you go in that head of yours hm?" His voice draws in his accent, lips pulled into a smirk.

shrugging, you pull back to take another sip of your drink. "Off to one of my past lives, I suppose."

he doesn't say anything, gently wrapping his hand over your chin again. He runs the knuckles of his other over your soft cheeks before tracing you features with the tips of his fingers.

You look up at him under your lashes before biting into his palm with a giggle. Sam pulls away in faux hurt, hissing through his teeth before settling back into the seat of his chair.

Sam takes you in – the soft of your hair, the glow of your skin under the sun. Your vanilla slip that rides up your thigh, leaving wake to your lace stockings.

"You're staring." Your voice pulls him back to you.

"I was."

Sam gives you a look that you can't quite make out. Not entirely confident that it's something in the way he responds or a separation in the age between the two of you — either way, he doesn't explain it to you, and you don't ask.

You blame it on the gap of maturity between the two of you.

There's a moment of pause before you hum, taking another sip of your drink before standing up and grabbing your purse.

Sam takes a wad of bills from his wallet and places them on the table. Linking your hands together, he lets you guide him.

—

In the park, Sam settles down near Birchwood and guides you to sit between his legs. Your back to his chest as he pulls your shared novel from your purse and begins to read.

It's soft and quiet in the meadow as spring circles round. Purples and yellows and baby blues are scattered around the soft tufts of grass.

A bird sings, and you let your eyes flutter shut as a plane hums overhead. The sun warms your cheeks and arms, decorating your lace slip in a halo glow.

"What do you say I shall do? The man asks. He speaks sadly, as though he knows the answer already, and it wears Oedipus' soul thin." Sam's voice, thick in his Australian drawl dances around you, chilling over your arms and the small cut on your knee and your hair and the glow of your dress.

There's a soft moment where you can hear Sam fold a page and set the book down before you're met with a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"You're my world, sweetheart." Sam mumbles against your cheek, nuzzling himself into you.

You hum, "tell me," Reaching back, you loop your arms around his neck, letting your head fall back to his chest.

"Sometimes I wish I could take you away from all this — all this bullshit celebrity life." He gestures around, "all those fake people with their fake lives and their fake everything. Y'too good fr'em."

You turn in his hold, unraveling yourself from his arms, sitting on your knees between his legs.

Your fingers tickle over the rust of his beard and upwards into his thick hair, letting roan slip through your fingers.

"I like my life." You smile with a hum, kissing him softly.

He nods in your hands, and you pull your sunglasses off to put on his head.

"I do." You tickle his side, "I like that they wish they were me. That they look at me and have half the mind not to kill themselves over someone so pretty."

Sam thinks of you as sickly beautiful. You're so smart and so goddamn beautiful. But you're sick and you're deranged and you're evil in the way you watch and pry and steal.

And he loves you for it. Loves the way your eyes light up when a horror film comes on or the way you get giddy when questioned at award ceremonies by those who are oh so above you - It's all the same to him.

Sam watches as you sway gently, lashes soft to your cheeks and your tongue rolling over the plush of your lips in a smirk.

"You wanna get out of here?" he cups your chin, and you nod.

—

in the cool of your apartment, you sway through the auburn halls. Pulling Sam by the hands as Tchaikovsky echoes throughout the flat in a hazy song.

finding yourself on the foot of your bed, you fall to the duvet - flashes of rainbow and amber dance about your ceiling in a ballet, jumping from wall to wall by the glass prisms Sam had gifted you for your birthday.

he watches you like this. lost in your own mind in a bout of giggles that fall past your lips and absentminded humming.

kneeling to the floor, he begins to unbuckle your Mary Janes, kissing your knees through your lace stockings as he slides them off.

the tips of your white slip are stained with green from the meadow - trickling through the threads like a root.

Sam sits beside you on the bed, relaxing into your bed frame. he watches you, notes you, takes you in, and absorbs you.

you meet his eyes and crawl to your hand and knees, sitting back on your haunches to plant both laced feet to his chest. you trace the tips of your toes over each button of his shirt.

"You're naughty," his hand grazes the sole of your foot.

"And you pretend you don't like it." you sneer, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

the arch your feet press into the thick of his bulge beneath his pants and he hisses.

"Hands and knees." he directs.

the cream duvet is cool under your hands, rubbing and burning at your knees as Sam sits behind you. his eyes wander over you before his hands do - he likes to take his time.

he kisses down the backs of your thighs to the soft of your calves and the gentle arch of your feet. And when he slides into you, he kisses a line down the dip of your back, tracing shapes and poems and words of love he'll never speak. you do the same to the sheets below you.

the way you love is not kind, nor is it all encompassing and gentle. You destroy and you devour, and you exist as nothing and everything in the time it takes for Sam to enter you and for you to finish.

the stretch of his cock makes your head fall between your shoulders and you cry. your hand reaches back to his own that digs into the plush of your ass. His thumb traces over a scab that's been long healed and picked apart again, and it repeats.

"I want you to eat me." You sob into the blankets, and you can hear Sam chuckle lightly behind you.

he doesn't question you. "How?" You feel his hand rest on the soft of your shoulder, turning your cheek to the duvet and you sob. "How would you like to be eaten?"

"Raw."

—

It's creeping up like a weed inside of you. It's rotting, and it's tearing you apart.

And it unsettles you so. As though it seeps into your skin and rots you just as it rots your mind and thoughts and seeps from your skin like a thickly sickness.

it must be a sickness you deicde. for what else could it be?

You'd begun to dig into the skin of your hand earlier during, freshly manicured nails scraping and cutting. It's almost pacifying. something to take your mind off the insufferable crowd and the creeping reminder of the fans and media outlets that will ultimately tear into you until there's nothing more of you left.

your skin is raw and it burns. You think of it sickly as you sigh under your breath, eyes falling shut.

"Y/n."

It's Sam. his thick brows cinched with worry and his hand gently soothing your thigh.

"Are you okay?" you nod. You think you might throw up.

"Yes, I'm okay."

Sam studies you for a moment. Searching in your eyes, almost pleading for you to tell the truth and have him pull you out of the building, have him drive you home and soothe your aches and worries away. Have him save you from the stupid fucking award show you hadn't even wanted to be at to begin with.

his hand squeezes your thigh, and he nods solemnly before turning back to the stage. And a part of you is relieved he doesn't push on the subject more; over time he's learned to let you come to him on your own.

A shrill scream rings among the crowd before an eruption of applause echoes throughout the room.

"I think i'd like to go home now." your lips bitten raw to match your hand and your pretty nails.

Sam turns to you, you feel his hand to your back before you hear him. Running gentle circles over your shoulder, your eyes flutter open and he leans forward to whisper something to you.

—

"M'sorry," you sob into the warmth of him. he coos, soothing you as his cock fills you.

"Theres nothing to apologize for, sweetheart." Sam traces his knuckles over the soft of your cheek.

the ache of the stretch pulls you thin, and you sob into the warmth of Sams room. his cock bruises your walls, his thumb circling kind strokes against your clit.

"Shhh, you're okay." Sam whispers to your cheek as you sob. and it almost as if you cant stop, as if a backlog of tears roll up into your throat and choke you and deem you unworthy until the tides swallow you whole.

"Do you think im wrong?" you can hardly recognize your own voice. its distorted and raw and raspy and comes past your lips in cuts and scratches.

"No, no you're not wrong. you're okay." Sam continues to roll his hips into you, and you dig your nails into his shoulders, looking to his ceiling as your orgasm rides itself through you.

you moan and cry - you bite into Sam's shoulder and pray his skin tears open.

—

you wake to soft chirps and the gentle roar of traffic. Sam still asleep next to you, his freckled arms wrapped over your hips and his roan hair dishevled.

careful not to wake him, you unravel yourself from his hold, pulling on your clothes and grabbing your purse.

You leave his house and head to your car, pulling out onto the road. you aren't sure where you're going.

the sky is a pretty pink and blue that chills over the morning mist and trickles in dew drops.

you feel sickly, you feel skinned, like the rotted and dead root that's been growing and weeding as finally sprung its ugly deformed petals, like its stupidly unaware of how painfully sick it its.

you feel raw.

The soft hum of 'Hearing Damage' circles throughout your car and you begin to feel the sun on your skin as it rises over the mountains of the plains.

Sam's profile appears on the screen of your dashboard. He's calling you. The phone icon pulses on the screen.

You don't pick up.

#sam worthington #dilf sam worthington #avatar #sam worthington x reader #avatar x reader #sam worthington smut #avatar smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully

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hannahssimblr · 1 month

Text

I wake up gasping, tearing the sleeping bag off me as the sun beats right through the nylon walls of the tent.

“Jesus christ.” I mutter, freeing my arms and legs. Jen grumbles in her half-sleep. “Shush.”

“It’s hot. Are you hot?”

“No.”

“God.”

From here, the thud of the main stage in full swing again is clear, as is the noise, the voices, the feet that shuffle by our tent, and the birds that make a racket in the trees.

I’m so thirsty.

I rifle through Jen’s bag for a bottle of water and find one. It’s hot, just like everything in this tent, and drinking it is like gulping bathwater. My head thumps with a violent hangover.

“So you agree with her?” Comes a voice from just outside. I cease my shuffling to listen.

“Maybe, Evie,” Claire sighs. “Why? Do you still fancy him?”

There’s a pause. “I dunno.”

“Well, do you think there’s a chance he’d feel the same?”

“I dunno that, either.”

I have no right to overhear this. So, with graceless haste, I yank open the zip door and spill out onto the ground at their feet. Claire and Evie stare in alarm. Bread rolls halfway to their mouths.

I knead my fists into sensitive eyes. “What are you guys eating?”

“Brioche,” says Claire.

“Is there enough for me too?”

She tosses a packet in my vague direction, but it lands far enough away that I need to get up. I notice which parts of my body ache as I trudge to it, the bruises on my skin from yesterday’s mosh pits. I glance at Evie quickly, to stake out the vibe, and find her looking intently at her lap.

I expected her to be awkward, to not know how to conduct herself, but I didn’t anticipate the feelings that arise in me. The minute I see her face, I am hit with a wave of shame and regret that has me fighting back a wince. I don’t understand it. Once again, my own emotions are a frustrating mystery to me, like my body and my brain are speaking different languages. It was just a kiss. It’s fine, for christ’s sake, it’s-

Even the thought of it makes my palms sweat.

“Such a good shout, brioche,” I say, and amble over to a chair very far away from Evie. I concentrate on getting the bread out of the packet, and not the strange frisson between us.

“Are you forgetting something?” Claire says, just as I take a bite, and I freeze. Am I forgetting what, exactly? A public acknowledgement that I was fully tongue kissing her friend last night? An apology for it?

She smiles at me expectantly. Then with relief, I remember.

“Oh, it’s your eighteenth. Happy birthday!”

She wiggles her shoulders and kicks her feet in a goofy dance of excitement, and I cross the circle to hug her and give her a quick kiss on the cheek. I feel Evie’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet them.

And I continue to avoid them, for an hour at least, idly chewing on brioche until eventually she mutters something about needing to put her makeup on, and crawls into her tent to hide.

In her absence, my brain keeps meandering back to her. No matter how much I think about the bread I’m eating, or that I need to brush my teeth, it comes back to Evie again. I stamp these thoughts down, hard, before they reach the surface, and the guilt I ought to feel about last night overcomes me. They come, as all the worst ones do, in the voice of my father. Why exactly did you let that happen? How stupid are you? Is this it now? Do you realise what you might have done? This girl-

“Good brioche,” I say to Claire, though it’s not particularly good at all.

“It’s from Aldi.”

“Aldi did it again.”

“Hm? Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“Aldi-” I break off and sigh. “Never mind.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I have my first drink early that day. I grab a bottle from the little stash in my bag during my retreat to the tent to change my t-shirt and put on yesterday’s shorts. When I reemerge, Kasper and Joe cheer, as though drinking before noon is inspirational to them.

“Hair of the Dog, right?” I say as I join them on the grass.

“Where? In the bottle, like?” Says Joe.

I roll my eyes.

Jen leans over the arm of her fold-up chair. “I still need to talk to you.” She says, and I sigh with irritation. “About what?”

Her eyes dart towards Evie, sitting quietly between Claire and Shane. “The situation.”

I’ve been here a hundred times before, and it’s typical of her to want all the irrelevant details, like where I put my hands, where Evie put hers, how long we kissed, exactly, and whether I tilted my head to the left or the right, or switched it up. Though I’d usually find her thirst for knowledge amusing, today it is less than thrilling.

“Later,” I insist.

“Well, I’m going to go to that Fight Like Apes gig at twelve, so maybe we could walk together.”

“Yeah, I dunno.” I nudge Joe, who has his festival schedule unrolled on the scorched grass. “What are you up to today?”

“Going to this,” he informs me, prodding his finger into some DJ’s name, and I nod vaguely.

“I’ll come too.”

“You will?”

“Yeah.”

“Jude,” Jen frowns. “You wanted to see Fight Like Apes. You were saying it in the car on the way here.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Okay, but I still want to talk-”

“Can I not change my mind?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“It’s just that I need time by myself today.”

Her face flashes with hurt. “Right.”

“No offence, Jen, I’m just not in the headspace, okay? I’ll tell you everything you want to know when we get home.”

“Like, it’s fine, I’m just-”

“Good.”

“It’s-”

“Enough.”

“Suit yourself.” She huffs, settles back into her chair, and turns her back to me.

Beginning // Prev // Next

Corresponding LG Chapter

#lucky boy 2010 #i am dreading the end of this arc i have to say #anyway #suffer with me friends

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ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes · 2 years

Text

The Phoenix and the Crow

pairing: (future) kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: nutural

el's thoughts: this was by far my favorite request ever haha submitted by @rachelcarroll1819 *mwah* love you for this, thank you! this is part one and there's a sneak peak at part two at the bottom! this is following the show plot line (season one). also this one is kinda short... but i couldn't find a proper place to cut it off soooo... sorry. i hope y'all like it

masterlist

In order to rise from its own ashes, a phoenix must first burn. That’s what Y/N reminded herself over and over again. It’s just a stage of life, it’ll get better and you’ll always come back stronger. She scoffed, “Some phoenix.” Aren’t the birds supposed to be powerful, elegant, and brave? Then why was she running away? Out of fear?

Yes.

Alina grunted when she tripped on a tree root and fell to her knee. “C’mon, darling, we have to keep going.” Y/N helped her up with a quiet sigh and quickly checked behind them to make sure they weren’t being followed. The sun summoner nodded and kept walking behind her mentor figure.

Alina was extremely grateful for the grisha who took her under her wing when she first arrived at the little palace. Teaching her the ways of grisha and helping her adjust any way she could. Saving her a seat at meals to spare her from the embarrassment of standing at the front, searching for a seat. Within the last few weeks Y/N became like an older sister, even if there was only a few years age gap between the two.

“We’re almost at the docs, then we’ll be out of here.”

The moment Y/N realized what the Darkling had planned for Alina she was planning her own escape. She knew she needed to get the sun summoner out of the little palace as fast as possible in order to stop the nightmare-ish horrors that were in store for their country.

The rustling of leaves were heard behind the pair causing them to stop and turn around, arms raised in defense. “Mal.” Alina’s voice came out in a breathless relief. She rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him at which Y/N turned around to give them their moment of reunion. After a few minutes and hushed whispers behind her, she cleared her throat “Okay, we really must get a move on now.”

“So you want to go after the stag instead of running away?” Y/N had a smirk on her face as she watched Alina wring her hands. “Yes?” “It’s either a solid yes or no, no maybe.” The younger girl took in a breath, “Yes. I want to go after the stag.” The y/e/c eyed girl smiled proudly, “Perfect.”

So the journey continues. Sunlight was spent hiking and the nights, huddled close to Alina to stay warm since fire was out of the option. Y/N could feel the need to use to power growing stronger and stronger, her hands got so warm she thought fire might start on accident. She needed just to let out a single spark to dampen the burning temptation. While following the couple walking ahead she let a single flame lick through her fingers, swirling around her wrist before diving back into her palm. Her smile was so bright and soft as Alina looked over her shoulder to check that she was still there.

Using their power makes a grisha stronger, and not being able to use it properly had taken a toll on the older girl, making the younger slightly guilty. Y/N had no reason to stick with them, she could leave and go find her own way if she wanted to… So why has she stayed? Alina furrowed her eyebrows, mentally searching for a reason that her mentor would stay.

“We’re almost there… It should be just around-” Mal cut himself off once the stag came into view. Y/N stared wide eyed, “Oh… It’s real.” She moved closer to Alina and Mal, waiting for them to take their aim, but right before the could fire, she noticed black whisps of smoke curling through the snow. She quickly let a small flame flicker through her fingers as she felt his presence creeping up behind them. “Alina-”

Everything happened in a blur, the stag was brought to the floor, Alina threw up a sun shield around herself, the stag and Mal. Y/N held her hands out infront of her her flames followed her arm movements like whips keeping the other grisha back. Black smoke circled her ankel keeping her firmly planted in her place, panic bubbled in her chest when she made eye contact with Ivan. Her eyes pleaded with him to which he only slightly shook his head. The last thing she saw was the Darkling standing over her with a look of pity, before her eyes closed on their own acord and her heart slowed to the point of unconsciousness.

“Heartrenders…” Y/N grumbled as she was finally able to move and control her body. She had started to wake up a while ago, first her mind then her toes up to her fingers, the tingling sensation crawling it’s way up till she was able to fully move. Her vision cleared slowly, the sunlight streaming into the tent through the waving flaps of the entrance.

Rising to her feet, she made her way to the tent entrance after gulping down a glass of water. One gaurd stood in front of her making her sigh silently. With a flick of her fingers a singular flame danced across the dirt floor to a pile of straw and some explosive crates. A high pitched yelp left the guard’s lips as he ran over desperately pulling the crates away from the growing fire. With a smug smile, Y/N slipped on a first army coat and stumbled a bit as she made her way to the crowds of people.

Alina Starkov came into sight as the inferni quickly mimicked everyone’s hands over her own chest. The sandskiff. Y/N’s eyes darted around as she thought of a way to get herself on that vessel.

“I still can’t believe the age on this.” Y/N’s attention snapped to the voice belonging to a tall zeminni man. “There is no way they’ll believe this.” “Sure they will. Now keep quiet.” A suli girl and kerch followed the taller of the trio closely. She watched as they slipped into line soundlessly, seemingly belonging to the crowd if only she hadn’t overheard their conversation.

sneak peak at part two:

“Who are you?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Y/N L/N, inferni. Lieutenent General of the second army. Well, ex-lieutenent, I now assume.” A gasp slipped from the person behind her and she was instantly released from their hold. The suli girl for before step around her and moved to stand beside the other two. The trio looked like a rough patch group of criminals. Ketterdam. She could only assume that’s where they’re from. “Now it’s only polite to tell me who you are given I just told you who I am. Very willingly, mind you, I could’ve easily set a controlled fire loose.”

“Jesper Fahey,” said the tallest of the group.

“Inej Ghafa.”

“Brekker.” His rich coffee brown eyes bore into her’s as if trying to read her soul. The dark lighting casted shadows over his sharp facial features. “Kaz Brekker.” His voice held much reluctance as he spoke his name.

“And I’m safe to assume you’re all criminals. Now that leaves me with one last question…” She spun on her heel and walked around, throwing glances over her shoulder every so often, inspecting the room. “What business do you have on this skiff?”

#ellora.writes #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagines #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagines

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