#u have no idea how long it took searching for his name

[lyv-writes]

OKAYY WE NEED DAD!SPENCER REID‼️

okay so Reader is going out for the day for like a little girls day with her best friends and says bye to Spencer and the cute little toddler! Buttt then the toddler starts missing reader and Spencer isn’t sure how to handle it at first, but then he gets the hang of it! <33

AAAA this is so cute omg thank u for this!!! i hope i was able to do it justice <33

spencer reid x mom!reader

words: 1,395

warnings: none really! just spencer being a good step-dad to your daughter, fluff, baby crying, that’s it!! :]

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

“Thanks again, Spence,” you say, pressing another sweet kiss to his lips before tugging your coat off the hook and making for the front door. “Remember, Lila is allergic to kiwi. And her bedtime is 8, no exceptions. She has to go to daycare tomorrow morning.”

You had spent the morning holding Lila, playing with her and soaking up her laughter as much as you could. Spencer knew you had never really been apart from her—going to work was one thing, but there was a guilt that came with taking the day for yourself. He watches with a fond smile as you ramble through the list that you had already repeated to him twice and does his best to reassure you, nodding along despite having already memorized it.

Pre-made food in the fridge.

Medical information on the fridge in case of emergencies.

Call if she gets too fussy.

“Oh!” You say, halfway out the door before turning back to Spencer, a smile gracing your face. “And don’t let her convince you to give her sweets after dinner. She’ll ask you for fruit snacks, all cute, then she won’t sleep and it will be hell in the morning.”

“No fruit snacks after dinner, got it,” Spencer said, following your line of sight to Lila sitting on her plush rug in the living room, toys surrounding her as she played. Your face softened, affection swimming in your eyes and he could practically hear the thoughts going through your head. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, he gently guides your face back to meet his eyes.

“We’ll be fine,” he says, tone soft as your shoulders sag at the understanding behind his words. “You deserve to have a day with your friends. I think Lila can handle playing dolls with me for a few hours.”

His phrasing made you giggle, picturing Lila’s pouting face, wagging her little finger at Spencer when he takes something too literally, or doesn’t do it the way she wants. For some reason, Lila is never happy with the voices Spencer does, and after a year-and-a-half she still gets that same little pinched brow whenever Spencer holds a doll in his hand, high-pitched voice mimicking a princess’s until she yanks the toy out of his hand with a firm, yet cute, “No, ‘Penth.”

Without fail, hearing his name in her little voice makes his heart soar, pride filling his chest even if she’s scolding him, wagging her little finger as she says it. He’d always been hesitant at the idea of being a father, whenever he pictured his future that was always a blurry part, but now he couldn’t imagine not having you and Lila in his life.

Searching his face, you finally come to the conclusion that he’s being sincere and a bright smile covers your face. Spencer had come to terms a long time ago, far before the two of you were even dating, that he would do anything to make you smile. A sense of pride wells in his chest knowing that the smiles you give him are just for him, a special glint in your eyes every time.

Between work, and Lila, there was hardly any downtime to just relax. Your evenings were often spent wrangling Lila into bed, usually with Spencer if he’s not away for work. Spencer made it a point to be home in time to have dinner with both of you as much as he could, slowly getting involved in her night time routine. She was 6-months-old when you and Spencer began dating, and while it took some getting used to at first, Lila began reaching for Spencer with a giggle and a giddy squeeze soon enough.

When your friends suggested a girl’s spa-day, Spencer was quick to encourage you to go. Having a toddler made it hard to have a social life, especially when your friends weren’t moms themselves. Lila had warmed up quickly to Spencer, which was the biggest relief, and it was hard to find a reason to say no when Spencer offered to babysit.

“She’s gonna be my daughter,” Spencer said, a fond smile on his face as the two of you spoke conspiratorially in the kitchen. “I already think of her as mine, I’d be happy to watch her for the day.”

Your heart swelled hearing his words, and you couldn’t help but say yes when he put it like that. Spencer, you, and Lila being your own happy little family was all you could ever ask for, and it meant more than Spencer could ever know that he had been so welcoming and understanding. He was a dream.

With a final glance at Lila and a sigh, you’re pressing another unhurried kiss to Spencer’s lips, that same lil dazed smile on his face that he got after every kiss, even after nearly 2 years. “Thank you, Spence. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, pressing another sweet kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your forehead—you were gonna be gone all day, he had to get his fill while he could. “Now go before you miss your appointment.”

With a final kiss, Spencer watches as you walk down the front steps, drive away, waiting until he can't see your car anymore before he’s turning around and closing the door behind him. When he looks up, Lila is already looking at him, eyes glancing between the door and him before her small voice is heard over the cartoon playing on the tv.

“Mama?”

“Mama went to the store,” Spencer cooed, lowering himself down to sit on the floor in front of her and her array of toys. “She’s coming back, don’t worry.”

“Mama s’ore?” she whispered in her small voice, her wide eyes blinking slowly at him before her lip began to tremble. It broke his heart to see her eyes, which looked so much like yours, gloss over with tears.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Spencer said, scooping her up in his arms. “She’s coming back for you. She’ll be here soon!”

With a sharp wail for her mom, the tears that had been welling up began falling in big drops, hands gripping tightly to the fabric of his shirt as she cried. Hurriedly, he began to bounce her in his arms, mimicking the way he had seen you do it countless times. He’s shushing her in a soft voice, whispering soothing words in the hopes that they’ll at least calm your crying.

Spencer wracks his brain, trying to sift through the information he had gleaned from the parenting books he had been reading for the past two years—he had started as soon as he came to the conclusion he would ask you out. Would showing her pictures of you work? He didn’t want to make things worse by making her miss you more, but maybe seeing your face would soothe her.

Transferring Lila to one hip, he fishes his phone from his pocket and opens the album of your photos, showing her various selfies, focusing on pictures he has of the two of you. After a couple of minutes her sobs quieted to sniffles and soon enough she was swiping through the pictures herself and giggling every time she saw your face.

With her swiping, it landed on a video, one he had taken of you reading a story to her before bed. At the time he had thought the voices you were using for the characters were so funny, hiding his own laughter behind his hand so that he could capture the sound of Lila’s giggles.

Spencer watches as she giggles along with herself, laughing at the way she reacts when you tickle her tummy. Spencer cant help the fond laugh the slips from his lips at the sight, bright grin tugging at his cheeks at your rosy smile.

When you arrive home that evening, only the kitchen light is on downstairs, the faint light from your bedroom guiding you as you softly push open the door. A warm smile paints your face as you slip your phone from your pocket, taking quite a few pictures of Lila, fast asleep atop Spencer’s chest, her favorite book lying next to his relaxed hand. His soft breaths rustle the hair at Lila’s scalp, her hand loosely gripping the edge of his sleeve as she sleeps.

Tip-toeing around the room, you shed your clothes from the day, slip on some pajamas before placing Spencer’s book on the nightstand. Slipping softly under the covers, you curl yourself around Spencer’s side, hand resting on Lila’s back as you fall asleep, comfortable with the people you love the most.

[mxdnightlvers]

hey hey! I loves your dottore and pant alone with a virgin!reader, so I was hoping I can request the same thing but with Al haitham, childe, and capitano? If your not comfortable atm, feel free to ignore this request!! I love your work :D

➸ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Alhaitham and Childe with a virgin shy reader (separate)

➸ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: None rlly, mainly sweet sex and praise

➸ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬/𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: Gender Neutral pronouns and reader

➸ 𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry I took so long but I hope u enjoy :D I decided to not to Capitano cuz I genuinely have no idea how to write him sorry T^T but enjoy alhaitham and childe <3

Pantalone and Dottore ver here!

𝐀𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦❦

He'd outright deny you. It comes as a shock at first and rightfully so, however, it was just his way of showing concern for you. A bit harsh and cold but when he sees your look of disappointment and shock he ultimately softens his tone. He seats you on his lap, hand linked with yours as he questions if you're sure. Despite dating for a while, he knows how reluctant you were to actually do something like that. You're determined however and knowing that you'll be doing it with the man you love and trust, your worries feel nonexistent in comparison. He searches your eyes for any traces of doubt but when he's met with none, his worries are also dispelled.

He makes sure you’re proper comfortable before doing anything. Towels, condoms, lube, you name it he’s got it. By how much he’s doing it’s slightly intimidating but he simply doesn’t want to leave you to fetch anything if needed. He also lets you get used to everything first with his hands. Letting you feel his hands run up and down your body, your chest to your stomach to in between your thighs. He notices how red you are and simply decides to focus on where his hands are moving, a kind unspoken gesture so you become more comfortable at your own pace. However, he’s closely watching how you react, is your waist sensitive? Or your inner thighs? Or do you just like it when he lightly grazes his fingers against your skin? He’s eager to find out but not at the expense of your pleasure, giving into your desires and finally touching you where u want him the most.

His hands are warm, but not warmer than you are, already turned on by his touches. There’s a slight playful smirk on his face when he feels your arousal and you can’t help but feel like he’s teasing u. Pouting, you whine at him making him finally look you in the eyes. Somehow it makes you even more shy than his fingers that were sliding inside you. “Whats wrong love? You can tell me to stop if you’d want.” He moves closer to you, his figure above you making you feel slightly reluctant to answering. Nothing goes unnoticed by Alhaitham though, and suddenly he’s kissing you softly, if his words aren’t enough to comfort you then surely his actions will. And it does, you’re reminded that it’s not some stranger and your lover taking care of you, so when he pulls away you finally reply to him. It comes out as a stutter but you manage to ask him for more anyways, any pessimistic thoughts quickly disappearing as you feel him move faster inside you. Fingers exploring you and his soft words comforting you, in no time you’re wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer as you come closer and closer to your orgasm.

You’re so pretty when you cum around his fingers that he can’t help but mention it. Your mind already blurry with pleasure to properly be embarrassed by his words. Eagerly taking his cock out and positioning himself he asks you one more time if you’re okay, slowly pushing himself inside you when he hears his answer. He’s trying his best to not lose himself to pleasure when he feels just how tight you are around him, but you’re his priority in the moment, his pleasure can come later. Starting off slow but quickening his pace only after you’re okay, ensuring to voice every single thing he feels about you. “You’re doing so well love God- you feel so good.” If you were worried before well, you’re definitely not worried now. He feels too good, better than you’d ever imagine and he sounds so pretty praising you that you can’t help but lose yourself to the moment.

He doesn’t stop praising you at all, whether it be physically or with his words. You’re not the only one enjoying having his cock inside you. He keeps his composure but doesn’t stop telling you how pretty you are or how good you feel or how pretty you sound moaning his name. Soft kisses between each, his hands linked with yours or him holding you closer to him. Each being a way of him comforting or showing his love for you. The initial feeling of shyness you had completely gone as you grow more confident in telling him how you feel or asking him for what you want- simply because of how much praise and care he’s giving you.

He makes sure you cum first but that doesn’t mean he’d be following shortly after. Cum painting your stomach, making you the messiest you’ve been so far. You’re too busy trying to catch your breath though, hands wrapped tightly around his neck as he allows himself to fall into your hold. However, he makes sure to recollect himself first, cleaning you up nicely and holding you in his arms after. Allowing you to rest and sleep comfortably but not after he whispers to you how perfect you are. <3

𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞❦

Surprisingly, he doesn't doubt your choice. He wants you just as badly but whenever he'd pursue anything more than simply making out he'd get rejected. It wasn't necessarily a problem, he simply decided he'd wait until you were comfortable enough. So it didn't take him by much surprise when your hands slowly made their way to his belt. However, he knows your hesitance to anything sexual so he gently places his hands on top of yours and pulls away from your lips. When you see the concern in his eyes, the realization of what you're doing finally hits and you're already turned into a flustered mess. Seeing your reaction, he leans closer to you to press a small kiss to your lips, softly whispering to you that it's okay. His soft-spoken tone seems to melt away any worries and your hands are urged to pull him closer towards you.

He positions himself on top of you, his hands slipping under your shirt, eager to feel more of you. His hands are so warm, so close to you, that its embarrassing how much he’s doing it. Trying your best to stay still because it’ll be even more embarrassing if you enjoyed a simple action like this. However, Childe seems to think completely differently, while it’s cute to see you struggle to contain yourself, he just wants to see his pretty lover enjoy themselves! He tilts your head up so he can kiss you, his hands slowing down, now lightly tracing your frame as he eases you into it more slowly. “It’s okay, I’ll take care of you.” The soft, familiar tone of voice effortlessly makes you relax, melting into his touch as he guides you further.

Before you know it, you’re already fully nude underneath him but yet you don’t feel the same nervousness that you thought you would. You’re still shy, but he makes you feel so comfortable that you don’t mind continuing. As eager as he may be, he’s taking his time with you, testing your reactions to certain actions. His hands eventually making their way to between your legs, softly running up and down your thighs, smirking against your lips as you twitch and whine from a few light strokes. Finally touching you where you need it, starting off slow, waiting and watching to see how you react. Inserting his fingers when he feel your hips roll against his hand, slowly moving them in and out, applying pressure to certain spots so he can learn all your favorite actions. You’re unable to even keep up with the kiss because of how good he’s already making you feel. You force his head into the corner of your neck so you can hide your flushed face as you near your orgasm.

You didn’t expect it to feel this good and your sane state of mind is already slipping with your first orgasm. You finally let him pull away, and with the most mischievous eyes he could manage, he brings his messy fingers up to his mouth and licks them clean. He laughs slightly when you turn even more red, placing a small kiss on your cheek when you turn your head to the side. “Sorry, you’re too cute and I was too eager to taste you sweetheart.” He pulls away and unzips his pants, spreading your legs so he can position himself in front of you. His hand links with yours as he moves inside you, savoring how warm and tight you feel around him, but making sure to not hurt you. His cock feels even better than his fingers and has your mind hazy with every thrust. Unable to feel any sort of embarrassment anymore as he hits your sweet spot. Hands moving to pull him closer, allowing yourself to moan louder, mumble whatever incoherent words you want to, all because of how good and safe he makes you feel.

He rarely ever pulls away from you. Kissing anywhere he can possibly reach, gentle praises between each. Occasionally asking if you’re okay, or reassuring you to tell him if you’re uncomfortable. He’s super sweet with his words and actions, holding your hand throughout, so that he makes sure you’re okay. This doesn’t mean he’s putting his pleasure off though, he’s enjoying the way you feel so much, moaning a whining as loud as he wants, because you just feel so good, so why hide it from you? Vocalizing how much he wanted this or how good of a job you’re doing, he’s not afraid to make your first time special.

He can’t help himself but cum when he feels you orgasm around his cock. Pulling out and finishing on your stomach before falling on top of you. He shifts his weight so he doesn’t crush you but he ensures that he’s holding you close. Resting for a bit before grabbing some towels to clean you up and dress you in something comfortable. Holding your hands underneath the blankets as you drift off to sleep, his thumb drawing circles on yours as he whispers sweet nothings to you. <3

[kaziwi]

Hellooo!!! may I request a luffy, zoro, and law with fem!reader whos rlly shy and she will just will throw gifts or little notes that say “love u” at him and runs away or hides 😭

separate pls but also if u don’t wanna do all three u can do one! whatever works for u❤️

Shy Reader Who Gives Gifts/Notes To Them

Hiii!!! Thank you for being my first ask!! I couldn't really think of any ideas for Luffy, so I just wrote for Zoro and Law. I apologize for the long wait and I hope you enjoy!

Character(s): Zoro, Law

WC: 1.4k

Zoro

You've had the biggest crush on Zoro for longer than you can remember. The Strawhats had saved your island and invited you to join along, and with this HUNK of a man there who could say no.

You wanted to talk with him so bad, but he was always training and it was just so awkward...you didn't wanna risk a conversation that was mostly silent.

After going to Nami for advice, you decided the best way to communicate would be little notes! Nothing could go wrong...right..?

"321...322...323..." Zoro was in the crows nest, training as per usual. Right now he had so many weights on his back while doing pushups that he couldn't even look up from the floor. He heard the door to the crow's nest creek open, but he didn't have the strength to break his workout and look up to see who it is.

"Oi, who's there?" He asked, but got no reply. He heard someone walking towards him, but couldn't make out who's footsteps they were. The person came close to him, then ran back to the ladder and climbed down the crows nest. Zoro thought it was a bit weird, but maybe it was Chopper dropping off some water, or Usopp searching for Luffy in their daily game of hide and seek. Whatever he thought, as he finished his workout. When he finally put down his weights, he noticed a small note taped onto one of the weights.

"Love u"

What.

Zoro looked at the note like it was in another language. Whatever, someone probably left it as a joke. He went back to training, crumpling the note and throwing it to the corner of the crow's nest.

He thought that would be the last he thought of the note, but that was before he found 4 more in the past hour. Each had the same words, "love u", and it was starting to piss him off. Of course he appreciated the gesture, but he was confused on who in the crew would leave him these notes. Nami???? No, she wouldn't, and if she did she'd charge him for it. Luffy?? No, his handwriting isn't even legible. This was going to bother him all day, so he decided to catch the culprit in the act.

He decided to lay on the side of the railing and take a short "nap." It took about an hour, but he soon noticed someone's presence approaching him. Quietly, the person crept near him and placed a small note on the ground next to him, but just before they turned to walk away, Zoro grabbed their ankle and pulled them down. When he opened his eyes, he never expected to see you there.

"Y/N??? Oi are you ok?" Zoro hastily helped you up. "Shit I am so sorry."

"Its fine.." you quietly reply, he had caught you in the act, you had no idea what to say. It was quiet for a few minutes till Zoro spoke up.

"So...you were the one leaving those notes...right?"

"Yeah..it was me.." you mumbled, looking down at the ground. You were finished, he knew, he probably thought you were weird now and would never want to-

"Next time...sign your name.." You looked up at him, a glimmer of hope in your eye. His face was visibly flustered as he said, "I'm glad those notes were from you ya know, anyone else on this ship leaving them would be weird..."

"Okay...I'll make sure to sign my name next time.." You said, still intrigued by his flustered face. He noticed you staring and quickly walked away, covering his face. You kept leaving notes for him and even small gifts too, and even though you always ran away immediacy after, you always made sure to sign your name.

Law

Your captain was THE Trafalgar Law, like how could you not have a crush on him????

You were a good crewmate and did your job well around the ship, but whenever your captain praised you or tried to have a non-work related conversation, you just got so flustered you couldn't handle it.

Approaching him directly about your feelings wouldn't work...but you had another idea up your sleeve....

Law stopped looking at his clock a long time ago, all he knew was that it was late. He had stayed up late reading a new textbook he picked up at the last island, and the last time he checked the clock it was about 2:19 am.....but that was awhile ago. He swore he was going to go to sleep soon...he just wanted to read about 1 or 2 or 5 more chapters.

Knock Knock

Who the hell was knocking at his door at this hour??? Probably Bepo with a random nightmare he thought as he shuffled towards the door. Law opened it expecting a crying polar bear, but was shocked to see no one was there. He stepped out to see if someone could be down the hall, but his foot was met with a small box. Law picked up the box and looked around the hallway....no one was there. He shut the door to his room and examined the box. It looked.....normal..

Law slowly opened the box and found a small plush of a polar bear. Oh my god???? He loved it???? He examined it more and could tell it was obviously hand made. The stiches weren't perfect, but he could tell whoever made it put a lot of thought into it. He didn't know why someone would make him this, but he didn't really question it cause even though he loved the gift the textbook was calling his name.

Throughout the next week Law would receive a total of 23 gifts. Some being a small note attached with a piece of candy and others being big extravagant displays. He wanted to confront the crew about it and ask whoever it was to stop.....but in all honestly he loved these small gifts. Each one had their own thought to it and the person who gave them obviously knew his favorite things. He wanted to figure out who was giving these to him so he could thank them...and hopefully return the favor.

Law decided the best course of action was catching them in the act...so he set up baby Den Den Mushi's around the Polar Tang that would hopefully catch the perpetrator in the act. He waited till the next time he got a gift to check them, and when he was met with a box of chocolates at the foot of his door, he knew it was time to check.

Your plan had been going perfectly. Throughout the week you had been leaving Law little gifts, hoping that it would catch his attention. Everyone noticed the captain's mood boost throughout the week, so it was obvious your efforts weren't to waste. You wish he knew it was you though....but you never thought you'd have the courage to tell him.

You started to make your way to your room after dinner, when Law stopped you. The rest of the crew had left the kitchen, so it was only you and him.

"Um..is there something you needed captain?" you asked. Why had he pulled you aside?? There's no way he knows about the gifts right???

"Yes actually, I was just wondering when did you learn to sew?" Ok so he definitely knew. No, you could still save this.

"Sewing??? What are you talking about??? I can't sew-" You were cut off by Law shoving a baby Den Den Mushi in your face. He didn't have to play it for you to know you'd been caught.

"I just don't get it, why did you give me all those gifts. I appreciated them of course, but what was the occasion??" Law asked.

"I just wanted to show my appreciation towards you captain...and show how much I care for you.." you sheepishly say, looking down at the floor.

"Well....I'd love to return the favor...maybe I could take you out to dinner at the next island.." You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling. His face was clearly red, and seeing you staring at him made him even more flustered.

"Sure...I'd love that.." you said, letting a smile slip from your lips. Seems your efforts paid off...and it only took a few of sewing classes to do so.

[mcuynfluffwriter]

Panic - Bucky X y/n short

y/n= your name, as I’m sure you all know. Y/e/c is your eye colour, y/h/c your hair colour, you know the drill:)

warnings: fluff. So so much fluff. Also a panic attack but mostly fluff. (That’s a lie) (kind of)

contains: Bucky X fem!reader, a panic attack(on your part), f l u f f,

Y/n has a panic attack and can only manage to call the one person who would still be awake at that hour.

just a lil moment for ya’ll:)

Your hands shook. Well, everything shook. Your breaths were shuddering and too quick, making your head hurt more and not helping your cause of not feeling dizzy. Your eyes stung with hot tears that kept streaming down your face whether you wanted them to or not. You could hardly think at all. Barely in this moment can you keep even a coherent thought. All you could hear was your heart beat getting faster and blood roaring in your ears. Your head definitely hurt, and so did you eyes for some reason. Like there was this pressure behind them from the crying even as you let it out (unwillingly). You are pressing yourself back against a wall, eyes darting around practically with a mind of their own. The shadows of the room danced and things seemed to spin around even with the wall right behind your back. You couldn’t breathe. And what’s worse? You were alone. No one else lived in your apartment. And it was night. Who would even be up at this time? Who in the world would actually show up if you called and then just dropped the phone and let it ring? A name managed to appear through the swarming chaos of your mind. It took everything you had to be able to reach out in search of your phone. You were too warm curled against the wall, but reaching one limb away from your tensed up ball of panic felt far too cold somehow. Like there was no good inbetween. You could hardly even see the screen of your phone as you finally felt it on the floor a little ways away. Bucky was the only desperate thought you could manage dialing a number without the time to go to contacts, mostly because you probably wouldn’t be able to even read the different names at the moment. When you heard the phone start ringing you did let the phone drop out of your trembling hand.

It landed face down on the floor but it didn’t matter anymore. Your lungs burned and you could just barley hear someone answering your phone call but you didn’t bother to pick it up again and attempt to explain the situation. Why did everything have to be like this. All you could do was keep pressing back against the wall. The room felt as if it were collapsing down on you and there was nothing you could do. Like your burning and blurry eyes were playing tricks on you with the walls coming down then suddenly being back to normal before pulling in again. You had no idea how long it took and you didn’t hear the testing of your apartment’s doorknob over the turmoil of your breathing. And your heart. And your mind. Didn’t hear someone use the spare key and fling the door open. But through your blurry eyes you could see it, the last part at least, and watched (as well as one could, in such a deep state of panic) as the figure in the doorway noticed where you were and came rushing over. You could hear muttering and felt strong arms wrap around you, pulling you away from the wall and into the embrace. You practically melted into his touch but it didn’t do anything to stay the panic. “Hey. Hey. Breathe. You’re just fine. You’re perfectly safe. I’m right here. I’m with you. I’m here with you in this moment. Come on.” He said in a surprisingly soft voice, you knew was reserved just for you in these moments, even if there was definitely concern and sharp, protective worry mixed in there as well. You felt so tiny. So fragile in his arms. And you were still shaking with sobs and quick breathing. He pulled you away a little, holding you face firmly but no where near harshly with his one hand while the other was still partially placed on your back. “Look at me, doll.” He said, “don’t focus on anything else. Look at my eyes. You’re safe. Nothing is going on. Just look at me. Calm down a little.” Bucky pressed his voice both stern and somehow really gentle at the same time. Something you had never be able to understand. “Breathe.” Except you couldn’t. And your head still hurt. And you were cold now, not curled into a tight ball, or collapsed into him. And you could hear your heart beat in your ears pounding against your skull, practically overpowering what he said. “Right now. I just want you to breathe.”

“Can you do that? Just in for me. Slower than that, come on Doll don’t ignore me. In. Slower. You aren’t even listening. Listen to me. Look at my eyes and just try to hear me, ok? Breathe in.” He didn’t give up on you. Which was nice. In a way. Finally, after god-knows-how-long, you managed to take a slower breath. Not quite a deep one. But one nonetheless slower than your current panic. “See? You did it. Just now. Now try slower than that. Just a really long breath. Hold it in as long as you can, alright?” You actually did. And what came with that? Finally feeling the exhaustion that came with crying. And hyperventilating. And all the package that was a panic attack. Once you felt that, it was suddenly a lot easier to take slower breaths. Sighing only a little through his nose, Bucky pulled you back into him, hand brushing the back of your head. “There you go. That’s a lot better.” He murmured, “right?” Now you were finding it really hard to keep your eyes open. So you didn’t. You let them stay closed as you kept making yourself breath in. And out. Long, deep, slow breaths. You could managed a quiet and tiny nod at Bucky’s words. But it didn’t take too long to slip off into sleep. And if you were to rate it? It was the most fitting sleep you’ve had in a very very long while…

when you woke up it was gradual. But eventually your eyes fluttered open, shying a little at the golden light from the window that came from the sun. Which was now up. “Hey there, Dollface.” You heard someone say, and blinked before remembering last night. And that actually you had, in fact, fallen asleep in Bucky’s arms. So of course he was there. The question was if he had ended up going to sleep or if he had just stayed up the entire night afterwords in guardian mode, making sure that literally nothing happened. Which was sweet. It really was. But you wouldn’t mind if he actually, you know, slept. You mumbled something unintelligible that might have been a return greeting of some kind as you sleepily shifted from where you were sleeping basically cradled in his arms to curled up next to him. “Sleep ok?” You nodded a little, still pretty drowsy. “Good. Because you needed it. Even if I didn’t know that you practically never sleep it would have been obvious after sleeping for hours like that.” “What can I say? Having a panic attack takes a lot out of a girl.” You mumbled, sleep still evident in your voice as you shifted to snuggle closer. He kept one arm around you and gave you a little nudge. “Nightmare?” He was asking if that had been the thing to trigger it. Without. Outright saying it. You took a long, measured sigh but gave him the tiniest of nods in response. “Oh, doll.” He sighed too, kissing to top of your head. “I’m sorry.” “M-m.” You said, lifting your head slightly, trying to find his eyes. “Not your fault.” “I know, I’m just sorry you have to live with those.” “You do too.” “But mine don’t cause panicking episodes of tears and hyperventilation.” He pointed out. “Well. Yes.” You eventually admitted. “You gotta stop doing that when I’m not around.” There was a slight tease to his words but also some truth. “Sorry.” “No, it’s not your fault, I’m just saying.” “So you’re allowed to be sorry and I’m not?” “That’s not what you should be getting out of this conversation.” You could see the small smile starting to tug at his expression though, as well as that little sparkle in his eyes. “Hypocrite.” You mutter, but both of you knew you were just poking fun. “Alright, I’m a hypocrite. But you’re probably starving it’s practically noon and you were asleep through breakfast. So let me find you something to eat.” “What about you?” “Actually I had food, I just kind of picked you up because I felt like leaving you alone might trigger some deep other issue inside of you and checked your fridge and pantry. I thought you’d wake up but no. Like I said, you clearly needed that sleep.” “So you raided my kitchen?” “It is a barren place.”

[sh1-n0bu]

May i ask a one shot with Tighnari? If u want can u do a fem reader who pretend to be dumb so him can teach her? <3 extra fuffly pls

✿ 𝙙𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙮, 𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙯𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 ✿

characters: tighnari x fem!reader

warnings: reader being a little shit and just tooth rotting fluff, tig-tig might be a bit ooc

notes: asked and you shall recieve😌i’m sorry if it took too long but i still haven’t lost my 50/50 to tighnari rn so i needed to do some research to try and grasp his personality

hope this is to your liking😚 nobu out🫡

the rainforest of sumeru is a beautiful place. wild animals, all sorts of flowers and fauna with many different kinds of crystalflies and fireflies appearing at night to add more life to the forest. it was a breathtaking sight indeed. but to you, nothing could ever hold a candle to the green fennec fox hybrid scolding you right now.

“-and the sumeru rose can also be-hey! hey! are you listening!!” snapping his fingers in front of you repeatedly while his fluffy tail swished from side to side behind him, it seems like your daydreaming was cut short for now.

“oh yeah! sorry tig-tig! hehe~” pinching the bridge of your nose, tighnari continued to scold you about how he has already taught you about the medical values of every common sumeru flowers far too many times by now.

the forest ranger already knows of how you’re one of the best graduates from the akademiya yet you can’t seem to memorize things in a long term. maybe you have short term memory loss? or is it another kind of rare disease that’s affecting you? if so he better find out what it is and the cure quickly!

while tighnari was busy worrying over your condition, you were scheming with collei about how to confess to him. of course confessing with chocolates and treats was a common practice but then again tighnari was a fox hybrid so maybe you should kill him another time after confessing. maybe a hand made small souvenir would work? he makes small bracelets and necklaces by hand so he seems to enjoy it. ah how stressful!

“maybe a pot of flowers would work? after all master tighnari may not look like it but he really enjoys growing his own little flowers! one time i even heard him baby talking to one of his potted padisaras with baby talk!” noticing your stress, collei recalled a funny moment in hopes of cheering you up and to at least give you an idea. and it seemed to work.

“collei! what is tig-tig’s favorite flower?” the sudden shift of your mood was a bit scary for the trainee not gonna lie. shaking off the sudden shock, collei gave you a solid answer. niloptala lotus. well shit.

and so after days of waiting for the perfect moment, searching for the perfect spot and flowers, you’ve finally got it. niloptala lotus that bloomed at night by the caresses of the full moon.

walking to the front door of the forest ranger’s little hut has always brought you giddiness but now it just fills you with dread. what if it isn’t his favorite flower? what if he gets angry that you woke him up? is he even awake? maybe this was a bad idea.

before you could even calm the racing thoughts in your mind, you collided with something. oh shoot, just the person you were thinking of.

“oh [name]? what see you doing up so late? you should be sleeping, it’s bad for your health” always the mom friend, fretting over others even when he should be looking out for himself as well. when tighnari saw the pot of flower in your hand, you can easily see his tail start swishing from side to side behind him. before he could ask you anything, you handed him the pot of plant.

“ahem just listen to what i have to say. please?” after having his confirmed nod you began to pour your heart out.

how through all these times, you always knew of the lessons he was teaching you but always listened closely because it was him who was teaching it. how you always knew the answer whenever he asked you a question but played dumb so you can listen to his voice. how the small little acts of him getting angry and pinching your nose or flicking your forehead was endearing. how you always loved being with him but just couldn’t have the heart to say so.

and through it all tighnari listened. he listened and suddenly everything was so clear.

when you finished your confession, that you may or may not have practiced a bit too many times, you felt a hand gently tug you down and a soft kiss against your forehead. your eyes probably looked like they were about to pop out because tighnari was laughing.

“you dummy, ditzy [name]”

—

bonus:

“sooo does this mean you love me too tig-tig?”

“sigh fennec foxes mate for life [name]”

“…oh”

[hyunimylove]

hiiii can u write a heeseung (or nah - by ty dolla $ign) inspired if that makes sense?? 😭😭 i

warnings: dirty talk, weed, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving) attempt of inspiration in the song..

your eyes had met those of that attractive man too many times.

the almost disinterested way in which he slid the alcohol down his throat and how he wet his lips while he didnt take his eyes off you were enough for you to make up your mind and start walking by his side.

"hi." you waved, your voice coming out so soft you doubted the stranger heard you correctly.

his eyes went from your collarbones to your orbs. "hi, pretty."

that black-haired man slid into the long chair, moving to the end so that you could sit next to him. once you took a seat, you felt his hand confidently resting on your thigh, caressing your bare skin.

"you smoke weed?" he asked after a minute in silence.

you nodded your head, and his free hand went to the front pocket of his pants. he took out a nice red colored lighter and arrogantly smiled at you as he pulled the joint out of his ear.

he positioned the cigarette to his lips and lit it, drawing in the smoke and swallowing. you took the marihuana out of his mouth, sliding it between your lips and taking a deep drag, now sitting on his legs.

the minutes passed and the blunt consumed as your companion's caresses rose closer and closer to your center.

"what's your name, pretty?" he asked. his drooping eyelids due to marihuana, gave him a much sexy appearance.

"y/n." you answered simply. "and yours?"

"heeseung." he responded in the same way. "is it my idea or are you getting wet, y/n?" he addressed you mockingly, his large palm now resting on your clothed cunt.

not being intimidated by his words, you counterattacked. "if so, would you make me feel better with your thigh, heeseung?" your companion smiled.

his fingers groping dangerously through your underwear. "don't you think i have nice fingers?"

before you could say anything, you felt how heeseung's fingertips brushed against your moisture and he inserted two of his fingers into you. you gasped at the unexpected introduction but soon began to sway on his fingers. not caring if someone was watching you.

"does the slut like to be seen?" he asked mockingly. "i've learned about you in these minutes. you like to be seen taking my fingers and you like that i talk dirty to you, that i remind you what a bitch you are."

his erection smacked against your clothed bottom. heeseung started sliding his tongue down your neck, while degrading you for being this needy.

you tightened on his fingers and lowered your hand, stroking violently your clit until you came and dirty his pants with your cum.

"did you see you didn't need my thigh?" he asked teasingly, adjusting your underwear and lowering your dress. "but i think i do need your tongue." he gave you a brief squeeze on the thigh and you both started walking towards the stairs, looking for the bathroom.

you were still surprised that no one noticed what you two did on the couch and, well, if they did you haven't been kicked out of the club yet.

when you found the first bathroom –which turned out to be the women's– heeseung pushed you into it and he searched for the first empty stall to get into.

his expensive pants had a huge moisture stain and you weren't sure if it was the product of your orgasm or heeseung's arousal, so you preferred to concentrate on unzipping his pants and getting his cock out of that cage.

heeseung was big.

one of the biggest you've been with before, but determined to return the favor you filled your mouth with saliva and dropped a drop on the tip of his erection.

you slid your tongue over the entire length, taking your time to wet him completely. you started to torture him, leaving kitty licks on the tip but never taking him in your mouth; until the black-haired man got tired of the jokes.

he took your long hair into a messy ponytail and forced you to take it into your mouth. you relaxed your throat, letting heeseung take control of the situation and use you and your mouth like a toy. "do you like the way i fuck your throat, pretty?"

unable to respond, you let yourself be carried away by his rhythm until after a few more strokes his abundant semen filled your mouth, almost making you choke because of the amount.

like a good girl, you swallowed everything and stuck out your tongue, showing heeseung that you hadn't wasted a drop.

he leaned his back against the wall and let out a breath, as he caressed your cheek. "you gonna let me stretch that pussy out?"

[dallina17]

hi! how did u come up with angelic vogue? Do you have any headcanons for them?

Hi! Thank you so much for the ask!

I am not sure if you are asking how I came up with the ship name or the ship itself so I am going to tell both.

The ship came to my mind one day when I was talking with my sister about weird ships that we had. I was telling her about the Hazbin Hotel ones and said that I didn't have too many. But then my brain connected neurons finally and I said "But I feel like maybe Emily and Velvette would be a great ship". And it was supposed to end there...

But it didn't. The more I thought of it, the more I said... Wait a second, they actually make a lot of sense!! They could be the extremist version of Lilith and Lucifer!!! So I started to get really invested in the ship, think about the dynamic, how would they met and how their relationship would develop overtime. And now they are my OTP lmao.

As for the ship name, it took me a while to decide on a name that I felt was proper for them. I wanted Emily's part of the ship to be something around halo, angelic, angel, but I couldn't decide something good for Velvette. There was "doll" and I guess that angelic doll could also work, but I wanted something more original I think? So I checked synonyms for "fashion" (due to Velvette being a fashion icon) and there it was vogue. I fused angelic and vogue and TARAN!! we have a name!

And yes! I have headcanons, here are some of them!

They didn't have a good beginning. Velvette thought Emily was too pussy and weak for all the power she had. Emily thought Velvette was extremely mean and a cretin.

But once they conveyed for a while, they found out good qualities in the other. Velvette realized that Emily was not someone you could just push around, and Emily liked her leadership and social skills.

In Heaven, Emily always wanted to learn how to cook, but she was a seraphim! How could someone so mighty learn something so mundane when there were angels who could do it for her? So when she arrives in hell, she makes it her mission to learn how to cook and of course, Velvette is her Guinea pig.

Velvette wasn't so sure about the idea, but eventually Emily (puppy eyes) convinced her to try her food and it was great! From then on, Velvette eats anything that Emily cooks, and Emily loves to cook for Velvette. She will search for the best and unique recipes to make her. Both Hell and Heaven ones.

On the other side, Velvette loves making clothes. Like, she can just materialize them, but for special people like Emily, she likes to make the designs, buy the fabrics, and sew them. She makes a lot of the outfits Emily wears in hell. Always with a lot of hearts.

Emily favorite's clothes are the first ones that Velvette made for her. An overalls with a skirt, doll shoes, long socks, and a shirt. Velvette says that that outfit was so basic and she could do so much better, but Emily loves it because it was the first one that Velvette gave to her, so is very special.

Velvette absolutely hates Emily's seraphim dresses. She says they don't do justice to her beauty. She burned them.

The first time Emily had a panic attack since she fell, it was in front of Velvette. Velvette didn't know what to do, but she was there with Emily until she calmed down. Not saying anything, just being there with her.

Since then, every time Emily feels she is about to have a panic attack and Velvette is not there, she calls her. Emily is the only one allowed to interrupt Velvette's meetings.

Vox and Charlie are number one Angelic Vogue shippers. But for utterly different reasons.

When Emily eventually gets her wings back, they will have a red strake due to Velvette's influence.

She loves to take Velvette in her arms or back and fly with her. Dance in the sky, make her spin.

Velvette was terrified of flying at first, but now she loves it.

In Heaven, part of Emily's work was to make parties and she did very good ones. Velvette also knows how to throw good parties. When organizing parties together at the beginning it was hard for them to see eye-to-eye due to having different conceptions of what made a party "good", but when they found common ground, their parties became one of the best in hell. Even Queen Bee was impressed.

Emily fell in love first, she realized it when Velvette defended her, not caring if that would get her hurt. It felt good to be the priority of someone for once.

There are many reasons why Emily fell in love with Velvette, but the main reason is because of how honest she is. She is tired of lies. It is refreshing to have someone who would never lie to her and always tell her the truth, even if it hurts.

It took a long time for Velvette to understand she was in love with Emily, and she freaked out when she finally admitted it.

She also freaked out when Emily confessed her feelings. But Emily calmed her, so Velvette was able to say she felt the same.

They are very clingy with each other and try to find a way to always be touching. Emily never misses the opportunity to hug her.

Emily loves flowers so Velvette always gives them to her. Emily's favorite flowers are Vrieseas, so their room is full of them.

They totally wear matching couple necklaces.

That's all I have for now! Again, thank you so much for asking. You made me very happy with your ask ♥️💙

[ihavemanyhusbands]

This might sound pathetic but can we get a lil hurt/comfort with Duncan? 🥹

He's in his cabin in during a harsh winter evening when he nears a knock on the door, it's the reader, beaten and bruised and she's looking for shelter. Duncan takes care of her wounds and ends up holding her to sleep since she's scared of the sounds of the thunders outside 🥺

NOT PATHETIC AT ALL IT WOULD BE MY ABSOLUTE HONOR TO WRITE THIS FOR YOU!!!!! (I love this idea sm thank you!!!!!)

———

Duncan thought you were a dream at first; a snowy mirage. Frost clung to your hair, lashes, and eyebrows. Your lips had taken on a purplish hue, and you were clearly scraped and battered, trembling all over.

He pulled you inside as soon as his shock passed. Wordlessly, he led you in front of the fireplace and went to fetch a blanket. He wrapped it around you and went to find his first aid kit as you stayed staring emptily at the fire.

He knelt in front of you, but you didn’t seem to notice him. He was a large man and had a self described “mean mug”, so he was very much intimidating to others. But he was surprised that you didn’t even flinch at his nearness.

“Can you tell me your name?” He asked, his gravelly voice soft as he could make it. “Or what happened to you?”

You turned your head towards him, blinking once. Your body was still trembling slightly, but at least your lips had recovered their normal color. His gaze lingered there for just one second too long, and then he met your gaze again.

He surmised you were in shock, not having said one word yet, your eyes unable to really focus on anything. You let him take your hands to examine the scratches on your arms, and he set out to carefully patch them up.

When you first said your name, he could barely hear it, but he looked up in surprise at the fact you’d spoken. He prompted you to repeat it, and you said it just a little louder.

“I crashed my car. The snow was too dense, and I just couldn’t see anything… I don’t even know what I hit. I just saw your cabin and stumbled over here…” you murmured. “It was all so fast. I’m so sorry for intruding, I just… didn’t want to freeze.”

“Don’t apologize, you did what you had to do,” he said. “My name is Duncan. Sorry that we’re meeting under these circumstances, but I’ll do my best to help you.”

“Thank you,” you said, and it was then that you broke down crying.

For a moment he was unsure what to do, but then he got up to get you some tissues. The sounds of the storm outside only worsened as he continued to take care of your wounds. He was relieved to find nothing was broken or bleeding too profusely.

You wept quietly for a little while longer, letting all the fear and adrenaline wash over you and leave your system. He boiled some water for tea and offered you some stew that he’d also had for supper, which you took gratefully.

He started making a bed on the couch for you, but then he saw you almost jump out of your skin at the sound of thunder. He couldn’t blame your nerves for being all frayed after the accident.

“U-um, could I maybe…?” You started to ask, and he nodded immediately.

“You can sleep on the bed. I promise I will not do anything to you,” he said reassuringly. “We’ll see how it’s looking tomorrow. If the weather’s good, I could drive you into town to get a tow truck.”

You nodded, your body visibly sagging in relief. “I’m tired, I think I’m going to go to sleep now if that’s okay.”

You slid into his bed sheepishly, curling up with the extra blanket he had given you. He finished up some things before joining you, keeping a respectful distance — at least as much as his bed would allow.

“Thank you,” you said again, looking at his profile as he lay on his back. “I owe you my life.”

Those words hit him hard in the chest. After so long of being a harbinger of death, of wielding it so closely, it was a welcome reprieve to save someone.

You snuggled closer to him, searching his warmth in your semi-conscious state. He wrapped an arm around you, more than content to pretend he wasn’t completely alone at least for one night.

————

[thehistoriangirl]

The Tides Have Veiled [Ten]

Oh boy we're so backkkkkkkk

Hopefully I'll post next part soon enough >:3 to make up for the weekly October updates

Viktor x Fem!Reader---Gothic AU: Spooky Sea---3.3K--SFW*

> MASTERLIST <- Previous // Next ->

Synopsis:  Piltover the Old has an old lighthouse that looms over an abandoned port. From the house in the wailing cliff’s edge, the lighthouse owner watches that the beacon is being lighten up each time darkness arrives, so that monsters wouldn't dare to crawl inland, or so legends say. Both buildings are haunted, maybe even the man himself, by both past and present ghosts. Surprisingly, the keeper’s work is beyond turning on the beacon every night— but the rest is on you to discover.

Chapter Summary: When a storm strikes the town at night, you discover what happens when the beacon is turned off...

Tags: Strangers to Lovers | Ghosts | Mermaids/Sirens | Slow Burn | Bonding Time | Forced Proximity | Mystery |There Was Only One Bed | Marriage of Convenience/Fake Marriage | Mentions of Self-Harm (throwing off a cliff)* | This chapter returns to a think mentioned in chapter 3 if u wanna check it out :D

Taglist: @lunar-monster @bittercyder @local-mr-frog

Ten: Twisted Legends, Tragic Stories

The ocean wasn’t pleased with the memories it devoured.

October arrived, and with it the relentless rain carrying a razor-cutting wind that tried to pull you down as your wobbly steps climbed toward the lighthouse, hands numb and pale from dipping them in the freezing tidepools in search of bloated fishes to add to Viktor’s collection.

He had taught you how to classify them, suspended in a void formed of aldehyde to preserve them in all their monstrous, amorph glory. In each glass, there is a scribbled note with their long scientific names, stacked alphabetically inside Viktor’s underground studio.

All of it under his appreciative, almost proud gaze, as you move your hands around, taking in the sight of your focused frown. A pat on the shoulder as you search for the name of a certain slippery specimen, fingers brushing along the encyclopedia's pages.

The nights were splatters of rain over the misty window, the lighthouse illuminating the ghostly beach below where the apparition of the drowned woman appeared closer every time, her hand still waving, her blue lips still curved in a sardonic smile.

Today, however, as you approached the entrance of the tower, you saw Viktor already waiting for you outside, even though he had a key. His long coat hugged his lithe frame, the ends flapping against the cold air flowing through the cliff.

“Please be sure to secure your windows before dusk,” he said, his hands resting over his cane. You had no idea to know how long he had been waiting out here. “Tonight we’ll be hit by a storm.”

He had left in a hurry because he had things to pack for his upcoming trip to the city—one you didn't wish to think too much about, reminiscent of what occurred in the last. It being fantasy or reality, you didn’t wish to know.

Just another storm, just like every night, you thought, the gate creaking as you opened it, the rusty bucket pressing against your thigh with each step you took.

Of course, the ocean loved to differ.

Ever since after lunch, the blue sky tinted inky black, sunset swallowed by a formation of grey clouds; the air still and charged, ready to pounce. And it did, with the piercing flash of a lightning bolt striking through the sky, white and silver, the tail coming down to the sea.

The wind howled like a group of beasts, like the souls of all drowning men returning at the ocean’s surface to wail for their loss.

Running up the familiar stairs, you secured the ajar window with a rope you found tucked inside one of the lockers. The old ledger fell in the moment you tried to pull the rope out.

The lodger opened in the same entry as the last time you checked, still blurred, still written in a hurry, the crusty surface of the page as if someone had been crying over it.

She came in with the storm, leaving no rock unturned, no place to hide, all while looking for him.

I prayed she could find him, so she could never return. What a fool I was—it would’ve been better to know nothing, as fear has ripped out the logical part of my head, leaving behind cloudy judgments and dreary illusions that siege the tower.

Alas; my pleas were in vain, for now, I hear her banging on the entrance door, her shrieks shattering the windows. With the power gone, she’s everywhere.

Your hands picked up the ledger, tucking it at the bottom of the locker, your steps quick to wrap an old cloth you used to mop the floor in between the window’s opening to stop the rain from coming in.

While you were peering out the window, the landscape outside looked like a melting world, dripping painting in melancholic blues, black, and grey.

You turned on the light, the beacon making the trails of rain shine like amber against the windows as it rotated toward the beach. Your hands flipped over the lodge, securing that there was enough firewood for the burning hearth and enough oil for your lamp. The control room was operating as normal, machines purring happily.

Amidst the cacophony of the rain, you heard a further boom sound reverberating around the tower as if it were a lightning strike, and perhaps it was because then everything got swallowed in darkness.

The purring of the generator was replaced by your pounding heart, by the screams of the cliff that seemed to be getting closer with each panting breath you took; shadows enveloping your being when the lightning flashes disappeared after a mere blink.

Scrambling against the furniture in the dark, you pulled the lever up and down, and up again, yet to no avail. The beacon remained dead.

She came in with the storm, leaving no rock unturned, no place to hide, all while looking for him.

The words hit you like a cold-blooded knife in the chest, making your heartbeat flatten before picking up again.

You didn’t know what to do. The lighthouse supposedly had an emergency generator tied to the line of the power supply, but then why the beacon wasn’t working?

She came in with the storm, leaving no rock unturned, no place to hide, all while looking for him.

The thought of having to check the wires of the lighthouse's electricity made you shiver. The little room was not only down the stairs but also down the lighthouse itself, in the upper room of a submerged cave created at the foot of the cliffside. The room had been sealed properly from the cave system many times ago, but still, the thought of venturing inside the earth with only a dim oil lamp made your stomach churn.

She came in with the storm, leaving no rock unturned, no place to hide, all while looking for him.

I hear her banging on the entrance door, her shrieks shattering the windows. With the power gone, she’s everywhere.

You walked toward the windows of the beacon room, leaving the useless control panel behind as you tried to chase the fleeting flashes of lightning to move around.

Thud! Thud! Thudthudthud!

You froze, thinking the sound had come fabricated from your brain. But it repeated in a vulgar, unusual rhythm, new every time.

Thudthud! Thud! Thudthud!

THUD! THUD!

I hear her banging on the entrance door, her shrieks shattering the windows. With the power gone, she’s everywhere.

But that didn’t sound like a door, it sounded…

Your gaze returned to the glass, thinking that the rain had changed into hail.

Instead, you saw the pale, drowned woman standing on the little balcony outside the beacon room, body bloated and grey, fingers broken in an incorrect direction as she kept her palm up.

From her presence on the beach, you couldn't see it well, but now, you saw her other hand tucked behind her back, the rags of her dress covered in algae, moss, and even some barnacles growing on her exposed bones, there where her neck snapped to the side.

She came in with the storm, leaving no rock unturned, no place to hide, all while looking for me. Me, me, me.

And the black, hazy eyes of the woman pierced your soul, yellow teeth bared in a grin.

I came for you, you, you.

You screamed, all the air stolen from your lungs as the woman revealed a rusty knife in her grasp, lounging at the window. Her smile black and wide like a mocking grin.

“Miss!”

You scrambled against something, falling onto the wooden floor in an amorph mass of limbs as you tried to scratch your wait out the trap.

“Miss it’s me! Calm down!” Viktor called out your name, taking you by the shoulders as you lay atop him. “It’s me! Shhh, shhh, everything is alright,” he cooed, looking at your face frozen in horror, your body shivering like a leaf as his hands ran up and down your arms, trying to warm you up. “I’m here. Everything is alright.”

“V-Vik…Viktor,” you said, glued against him until the fear had run out of your veins. You pointed toward the window, not daring to look back at it again.

“Come on,” he said, taking your hands as he slowly got you down his body. “Let’s go to the hearth.”

"When… when did you arrive?" you muttered, glad that Viktor had carried an oil lamp with him as he climbed the stairs. You wanted to leave that room as fast as you could, and his presence was your call.

“Around fifteen minutes ago. Ah… I suppose you didn’t hear me knocking?” Viktor smiled, trying to reassure you.

You shook your head, leading the way through the staircase as you synchronized your steps with his.

“Why did you come?”

The answer took a long time to come out, and as you looked at him, the flicking light of the lamp made his face with a pink blush.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t welcomed,” he teased. “I… eh, I wanted to make you company. I know that here the storms feel stronger than back in the village."

There existed the possibility of him being slightly scared, too, but his answer had your stomach covered in fluttering sensations. Does he care for me?

“Um… thank you. Thanks a lot, Viktor,” you said, taking his hand to help him off the staircase.

You walked toward the table at the front of the hearth, putting the oil lamp there to proceed to light on the fire with a match and a piece of old newspaper.

"I thought the lighthouse had an emergency generator," you said, though it mattered very little, as you doubted there were any fishing boats daring to navigate through such a storm.

“It does, but I think the cave underneath us may be flooded.” Seeing your eyes wide open in horror, he patted your shoulder. “Not completely, I mean. Just enough for the cables to get wet. Eh—it was lucky that we didn’t have a short-circuit.”

You tried to smile at him, showing the best you could that you appreciated him to be there with you; though if he was trying to calm you down, his words didn’t have that much of an effect.

“Have you had dinner yet?” You said, looking at the plate of roasted fish covered with tomatoes and lettuce.

Viktor looked at the fish and frowned. “Have you?”

You turned your back on him, though your nervous giggle still reverberating on the ground floor, almost drowning the cacophony of the outside world. “Well, I’ve been busy preparing for the storm.”

Viktor hummed, his steps approaching behind you to take a pair of glasses over the hearth’s shelf. He smelled like rain, and you could see chestnut locks shining, slightly wet from the rain that slipped into his raincoat.

“That’s not good, Miss,” he muttered, brushing your cheek with the sleeve of his shirt when he pulled away. “Let’s have dinner together, hmm?”

You couldn’t stop the smile from curving your lips, even if you felt childish. “And why you haven’t had dinner yet?”

His cheeks flushed red. “Eh—duty calls.”

“See?” you teased, the mismatched porcelain clinking as you put a roasted fish in front of Viktor. “Did you have a safe travel down here? I’m… glad that you’re here with me.”

Viktor chuckled, nodding his head, taking a bite of the meat with a piece of lettuce. "You cook well." Then, when you settled in front of him, he added: “Are you alright? You seem pale.”

Your eyes drifted over the fire, mind pondering about telling him, and risking it for him to view you as insane, or not, and keep a straight face hoping he wouldn’t catch you lying. But what if he did? Which outcome will be the worst?

"Why… why does the town say that your house is haunted?" you asked back instead, pushing around the pieces of fish around the plate.

The fork fell from Viktor’s grasp, golden eyes seemingly shocked as he bore them at you. Of course, he was about to laugh at you and brush it off before you had a chance to tell him about the muddy footprints.

“There was a devastating storm hitting this town a couple of centuries ago,” Viktor explained, and suddenly the food didn’t look as appetizing anymore. “The waves were so big they swept the house down. Legend says that it was a mermaid seeking revenge the one who conjured the storm.”

Your frown deepened. “But… this town loved mermaids. They built a museum of them, even.” You gestured away, the images of at least a dozen offerings being swept by the sea. "And the offerings. Why venerate something that hurt you so much?"

Viktor’s eyes shone molten gold against the dancing fireplace. “For fear, of course.” He reclined on his seat, the wood creaking echoing in that eerily calm bubble that had enveloped you both. “Fishermen had killed so many mermaids over the centuries, that they’re in their right to be scared. To try and appease them with their memories.”

“Does it… work?”

A lightning bolt tore the sky, making the room bright white. When you blinked again, the light was gone, only red shadows left behind.

"Not anymore," Viktor muttered, looking out the window. Your intense gaze made him clear his throat. "I mean, judging it by tonight's storm."

“But what does it have to do with the house?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t telling you the town’s legends only to make you forget about it.

“Ah—yes. Well, the owner of the house, Einar Stell, was famous for selling mermaids to museums and circuses. Of course, the mermaid of the story rightfully sought revenge against his doings, pursuing him with the storm in his own house, and finding him hiding in the basement, where the rain makes him drown in a pit of water and mud.” Viktor shrugged, taking a sip of his beverage. “People think his spirit still wanders in the house.”

In a pit of rain and mud… you felt the little hairs on the back of your neck rising.

“And this mermaid…” you heard yourself saying, hoping this next story could bring you a distraction. "Is the woman crying on the cliff?"

Viktor smiled. “No. Mermaids don’t have souls, as they live a very long life. So they can’t become ghosts. The townsfolk say that the cries are of Mr. Stell’s daughter, who was lured by a mermaid to throw herself off the cliff.”

The same she does with everyone passing by it now. You thought, remembering the cold, salty air pinching your cheeks and the frozen tears as you stood with one foot over the abyss. You were about to fall for her trap, too.

You swallowed. “Do you believe in said stories?”

Viktor shrugged. “I’ve studied mythology and folklore for a while,” he said. “Many marine monsters aren’t real, but…” he stopped, the silence broken by a wail that sounded much closer to the entrance. “It would be very egotistical of me to say that everything can be explained by it.”

I saw a woman at the window, you wanted to tell him, let the knot spill out your throat. She was drowned and dead, and she was looking for me.

But why would she be looking for you? You were just a lighthouse keeper—the lighthouse keeper of a haunted beacon, in a haunted town, working by the owner of a cursed house.

You didn't say anything, sipping on your tea despite it having grown cold long ago.

Not even the constant tapping of the rain against the crystals could lull you to sleep, not with the cold seeping inside the lighthouse despite the hearth burning furiously, and you could almost picture the struggle between the flames and the winds trying to crack open the mossy exterior walls, with the rock reminiscing of all the other torturous nights like this one.

In the end, of course, the fire was extinguished with the sizzling noise of the last logs wet with the bowl of water Viktor had thrown into it.

“We should get some sleep,” he had said. “And let the fire can be dangerous.”

After the apparition clinging outside the window, you didn't dare to climb back those stairs and sleep on the couch. Not now that the beacon room had been devoured by darkness, with the flickering oil lamp guiding your way downstairs.

You remained in your chair, the pair of thin blankets thrown into the cot showing the wrinkles of your usage from this morning. You knew that with the growing cold of the unrelenting storm outside, those wouldn’t be enough to keep any of you warm enough.

Yet, the thought of climbing the stairs to fetch the ones over the couch made your stomach fall.

A golden gaze pierced through the darkness, focused on you; its twinkling reflected by the candle on the table.

“I believe we both fit in it,” he commented, awkwardly gesturing toward the cot. “Ladies first. I mean, if you, eh, if you like to sleep next to the wall. I can do it if you don’t like it.”

You were about to turn him down—that you were used to staying up all night, that he should take the bed, especially since tomorrow he would have to travel to the city to take in the exam of his successful postulation at the Academy.

But staying in the same room with him while he slept wouldn’t soothe him, either. Knowing that you would be awake while he remained asleep, as you remained alone, in a way.

You didn’t want that, either.

Besides, you were adults. People do this all the time, your brain tries to trick you in a futile attempt to push you into remaining calm. The afterthought of you’re married, anyway, didn’t help.

 To your surprise, you nodded, crawling into the cot, the surface warm from Viktor’s body as he had moved from the stiff chair into the cot to ease his muscles. The mattress dipped under your weight, some springs creaking at the movement. It was at the same time familiar, with all the naps you took during the day, but his presence made it all new again.

You lay next to the wall, the cold surprising you as you scooped closer to the middle.

Then, he slipped inside, slow and graceful like a cat, his body rolled next to yours, lithe fingers accommodating the blankets atop your arms so you wouldn’t be cold, even if so meant to scoop closer so both your bodies could be covered.

“Alright,” Viktor muttered, his gaze looked at the ceiling. “Are you comfortable?”

You nodded, noticing that you were giving him your back. “Y-yes, I am,” you said, trying to hide your face beneath the blankets, only to realize that you could smell Viktor’s shampoo from up close, like orange and sandal. “Thank you.”

You forced your eyes to shut close, to your breathing to even—maybe that way, the faking would become truth.

The wind howled outside, and soon enough you could hear Viktor’s soft snores covering the screams of the cliff, his hand slowly cupping your waist as he rolled to his side to hug you.

For a moment, you froze, thinking that maybe not breathing could be the right decision.

Don’t be silly.

… It feels… nice. In here the woman can’t find me, you thought, eyes scanning the outline of the furniture and the stairs, barely visible against the darkness of the night. They would protect you from the ghost. Viktor would protect you, too. You knew it.

You nuzzled into the pillow he had given you, letting the rain hitting the window to lull you into the dreamlands.

[drgngutz]

Cybernetic Soulmate - I

BEN Drowned x Reader: Part 1

Soulmate AU – Implied Feminine Reader

Note: BEN is my favorite creepypasta, and lowkey I never see enough of him in the fandom. SO, I’m taking it upon myself to give this a try. Can’t promise it’ll be finished, but I’m having fun with it right now. If you’d rather read this on a website, ima post it on quotev and wattpad soon. Right now i’m vibin here. If you don’t like scary shit, this one might not be for u but we’ll see how it goes. Thanks for reading :) 

Description: Having the name Benjamin Lawman inscribed on your wrist until the age of 11, you had to live the rest of your life as one of the unlucky few who woke up one day with their soulmate mark crossed off. Devastated didn’t properly express the feeling of emptiness at the loss of connection between someone you had grown so close to. Ten long years have passed since then, but a new name has shown up just underneath the butchered one: BEN drowned. Soon enough you’ll figure out your old soulmate is now more demon than he is man. 

Masterlist

Benjamin Lawman 

BEN Drowned

The pads of your fingers swiped over the newly printed name on your wrist in absent-mindedness as you scrolled through page after page on the internet, causing subtle goosebumps to rise up on your skin as the bold letters brandished a light tingling with the friction. Old memories bumped around in your brain of producing the same feeling when the name you used to have was touched. 

It wasn’t feasible. It wasn’t something that had ever happened unless a soulmate had clinically died and been resuscitated within minutes. But over the span of ten years? Impossible. 

So why was this name here now? And why on earth was it different?

Returning to the old articles- the ones that you hadn’t looked at in years- yielded no results. 

‘Benjamin Lawman, aged 12, has been missing since around 6p.m. yesterday. Reports have mentioned he was wearing…”

‘It has been just over a month since the young boy, Benjamin Lawman, has gone missing. If you have seen anything in relation to his case…’

‘Benjamin Lawman declared deceased. “The search has gone on too long.” - Officer Hubris states…’

Hours and hours of looking at the same stupid newspaper clippings, public records, and news outlets was doing nothing besides digging up old memories that you didn’t want to relive. The times where Ben would talk to you, laugh with you, when you would play made up games with each other through the connection you both had created over a short time. He was always showing you his games on the console he had been gifted for his tenth birthday; you could still see the hazy image of a little boy with blonde hair swinging a sword at all kinds of different monsters, with Ben reciting each one of them as if he had memorized every detail of the game. You had talked to each other through the connection every day, and then he was just… gone. 

Exhausting your emotional and logical thinking, you ran your fingers through your hair before dragging your fingers down over your face to rid yourself of the stiffness. Glancing at the darkened letters on your wrist, you sighed in exasperation. Flopping the limb down onto your lap like a ragdoll, you traced the letters once more. It tingled again; that was the only grounding factor telling you that you weren’t dreaming all of this up. But, what kind of a name was BEN Drowned?

You swallowed thickly at the implication of both names showing up like that, how one replaced the other, and then opened up a new tab on your laptop. 

Immediately searching the name led you to a page on 4chan. Clicking on the site led to a very in depth and lengthy story, accompanied by multiple videos of a fucked up version of Ben’s favorite game, which took you about two whole hours to complete and understand. 

“...It already has proven to me that Ben can access my account/password and manipulate my computer, and like I said I have no idea to what extent it can do this, but know that it will do anything to break free. He is desperate. I’m going to do something, something rash that may not work. But, if it can keep everyone safe from him, I’m willing to try it. I’m going to make sure he stays in that fucking cartridge, so just forget about me, please…” 

It’s nearly dark out at this point, and your head is stuck spinning in place like a globe as you try to swallow the massive amount of information that you’ve been presented with. And still, none of it makes sense. But, really, did any of this? The newly branded name on your wrist certainly made no sense. Was it so odd that maybe there was something going on with this man, Jadusable, as well? And somehow it was all lining up together that this…thing shows up, and then its name shows up on your wrist just below where your old soulmate's name was crossed off, further implying that your soulmate was whatever BEN Drowned is. 

“Oh god. I need to go lay down.” 

Benjamin Lawman 

BEN Drowned

After the day that the name had appeared, you had been doing more research than you had ever bothered to do during your schooling. Each and every piece always led to the same two destinations; a declared dead little boy and a 4chan page that no longer had any active comments or replies from its author. 

You had since resorted to using the connection to try and make a breakthrough. 

The first time was difficult for you. Something that had laid dormant for so long felt… wrong. To try and open it again meant the possibility of connecting with someone who you’d assumed was gone forever. Now what? What if he answered? What if he didn’t answer? What if it wasn’t him?

It took a lot of thinking, and a lot more courage, to open up that connection again. 

Hands shaking, you clasped them together and closed your eyes, brows furrowing in concentration as you felt the familiar sensation flip like a switch in your brain. Clenching your teeth, you felt your eyes water beneath your eyelids as you let yourself fall away from your own consciousness for a moment, the familiarity nearly making you pull out of the sensation in discomfort. But, you pursued. You had never gotten this far, not after he disappeared. 

It was dark. That was the only way to explain it. Pitch black, with no source of light or sound to be observed. You dug a little deeper, trying to find the point of communication again… Only to be stopped. Confused, you tried to move forward again, only to be pushed back again. You tried over and over, poking and prodding at the connection, but to no avail. It was like something was specifically keeping you out; as if Ben didn’t want you to make a connection. 

You came back to your own consciousness with a start, eyes flashing open and feeling breathless as the connection dwindled and then faded away without your focus to keep it going. But, it was there. You had never been able to enter our connection like that before. Now, there was at least something.

It continued like this for the rest of the week; you trying to make a connection happen while something forced you away. But, you weren’t about to give up anytime soon. You were just as stubborn as Ben could be, pushing and pushing to no avail. You felt insane to be reaching out to somebody that was dead, somebody that wasn’t alive anymore, but you refused to give in. 

Then finally, it worked. 

You had gotten better at it the more you had practiced, gotten used to the familiar feeling that was at first melancholic; this time, you entered without bothering to close your eyes. Apparently, he had his guard down. 

A box shaped view, bordered in complete darkness. The light that peered in did nothing to illuminate the surrounding area; the light was coming from a window. Your window. You recognized it as the one in your living room that overlooked the couch opposite of the TV. And there you were, sitting straight, a focused look on your face as you stared at the wall, as you had done time and time again over the past few weeks. You watched yourself flick your eyes up to the TV in astonishment–

You were slammed out of the connection so hard that it sprouted a headache at the front of your forehead, and you flung your hand upwards in order to cater to the sudden feeling. Debilitated, you groaned tearfully before you could open your eyes again, blinking away the sting and glancing up at the TV. 

Stop trying.

The words were written in white, in a small text box at the bottom of the screen. You were only able to read it once before they disappeared as quickly as you had seen them. 

“What… What the fuck?” 

Benjamin Lawman 

BEN Drowned

He’s been watching her for a while now, observing, debating, keeping her annoying attempts at contacting him at bay; she was relentless in that particular field. 

Soulmates had always existed on this earth, apparently. And, although the fragmented memories of the soul he had ‘borrowed’ managed to save them from being imprisoned again via this aggravating connection, he wanted nothing to do with her. 

He was called many names; demon, ghost, vengeful spirit, poltergeist, cybernetic entity – Something born from a mixture of code and the aftermath of an abominable act – so they were not entirely wrong, but they were never right, either. Regardless, they were right about one thing. He had no room for care, or sympathy, or love. Not anymore. It was not programmed, not a part of his ideals. 

That was what he assumed, until the annoying little prick that he chose to resuscitate from that watery grave started to rekindle the connection he had before, when he was alive. The little bits of his host that still existed within him now crawled and zapped within the numbers, disagreeing with how he was treating the girl. He assumed this was some form of rebellion from the kid, and it was affecting them a lot worse than he understood. 

They weren’t supposed to feel the way he was toward this human, he wasn’t capable of having emotion at all. It wasn’t possible. And yet, here he was, watching her from the screen of the television that they had been trapped in ever since Ben’s last ditch effort at escape; it had worked, they were out of the cartridge, but they were missing pieces. That made the effort useless. 

Perhaps he should’ve chosen a better host for ascension. 

Benjamin Lawman 

BEN Drowned

WHAM!

You jolted awake at the loudness of the sound, feeling it reverberate through the ground and walls with the force of it. Sitting upright, you stayed still as a statue and listened closely, in the case that you had dreamt the sound. 

“Shit.” A voice whispered harshly against the silence, raspy and low. 

“We- We gotta make this quick. Hurry up,” Foot steps followed the higher pitched voice heading down the hallway. 

Swiftly, you ripped the covers off and dove for the closet, being as silent as possible as you settled below the hanging clothes and behind a hamper of dirty ones, trying to ease your breath and keep calm. Soon after, the two men barge into the bedroom and begin scouring your drawers. 

Addicts, you assumed. That was the likely situation, given your shitty location and even shittier apartment, they frequented the area and often ended up breaking into places that they figured were either abandoned or no one was home. A few of her neighbors had some close calls, while a few others were not so lucky. Flashes of ambulances and white sheets came to your mind, and you pushed them away, instead listening to the two of them argue in some kind of whacked-out dispute. 

“There’s no money, no jewelry; where the fuck is it all?” The first one started, slamming the drawer so loud the whole cabinet stuttered against the wall. 

“M-Maybe we got the wrong number,” The other replied, dumping something onto the floor, “is it the wrong apartment?” 

“If it is, we’re fucked. C’mon,” The two pairs of footsteps went further down the hall toward the kitchen, and you sighed gratefully. 

Hearing them rummage through the kitchen drawers now, you felt your heart beating in your veins as you slowly opened up the closet door and peered around. The room was empty, and you could hear them starting another argument about something else. Now was the time to move before they could come back and check the closet; there was no point in waiting like a sitting duck. 

Just as you were starting to silently make your way down the hallway and towards the front door, in the process realizing that they had burst the damn thing open in order to get inside, you heard the shuffle of footsteps in the kitchen begin to grow closer. Your blood ran cold, mind running wildly at the possibility of what would happen if they saw you. 

Wordlessly, you bolted to the living room, relying completely on instinct as you locked your eyes onto the black screen of the TV. You hesitated a second, debating if hiding somewhere would be a better option, but a quick glance around the room told you there wouldn’t be a place for you to do so. They were getting closer, the scuffing of their boots on the tile spurred you forward. 

“I am so fucking crazy for this…” You whispered, eyes flickering all over the screen as you gripped its edge in a vice. Fuck it.

“If you’re in there,” You took a deep breath, faltering out of fear, “I need help. Please, some men broke into my house and–” 

“Did you hear that?” You nearly stopped breathing from how close they were now. 

“Yeah, came from that room, there.” Hurried, heavy steps started toward the rooms entrance. 

“Shit.” You turned and gazed desperately at the screen, no response. 

“God damn you,” Frustrated, you began to scream and bang at its dark surface with your fists, “Fucking answer me!” 

“The hell’s wrong with you?” The two men had finally made it into the room, just staring at you as your slammed your fists repeatedly against the TV. One of them, a smaller, scruffy looking man, looked confused and concerned. The other, much taller and larger, looked pissed off. 

“What does that matter?” The bigger one began to advance, and right before he pushed you to the floor, you saw the screen light up. Hissing at the sting of the impact, you glanced behind the man towards the now lit-up screen.

Fine.

“Tell us where you’re keeping all of your shit. Now.” His harsh tone made you flinch, feeling spit hit your face as he loomed over you.

“I-I… I don’t have anything. I swear… I don’t have–” You stuttered, but couldn’t complete the sentence in time. 

SMACK!

The burning of your cheek registered before you realized what had happened, feeling tears fall down your face at the shock of the pain. You heard something clicking against itself, the harsh noise berating your ears and making you look back at him before freezing in place. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me. You’re hiding something, I know you are. Hand it over!” You’re left staring down the barrel of a hand gun as he shouts at you, and if you weren’t crying before, you definitely are now. 

“Hey… Hey Jim.” The soft voice of the other man interrupts the exchange, and the angry man, Jim, nearly blows a fuse. 

“Something’s wrong, man.” 

“What the hell are you on about now, Mike?” With a rage in his eyes, he turned around, the gun turned safely away from your face. Before he could say anything else, however, he stilled. 

You peered up at the screen, where they were both looking, as you trembled at the prospect of being shot. 

You shouldn’t have done that. 

“What the hell? This some kinda game?” 

You wish it was.

“Jim, lets go.” Mike practically begs his friend, inching towards the door. 

“There’s somebody else here. They’re probably watchin’ us, right now.” His voice trembles at the thought. 

“Don’t be such a pussy,” Jim spits, angry at the idea; “I’m talking to you too, creep! Come out and show yourself instead of hiding behind a fucking screen.” 

If you say so. 

There’s a moment where the screen goes dark, before another message pops up on screen. 

Close your eyes.

You obey the message without a word, clenching them as tight as you possibly can. Then, you hear the front door slam shut, despite it being broken off of it’s hinges before. 

“What the fuck was–” Jim’s words are cut off by his own strangled screams. Something drops to the ground with a clatter, shortly followed by Mike’s shrill screams that fade as he moves towards the front of the apartment. He begins to plead for something to open as something begins to snap and pop in the living room. You flinch at each noise, nearly sobbing as the man’s screams from in front of you are reduced to garbled grunts and groans, before he goes silent with one final crunch. 

Mike’s murmured ‘no, no, no’ can be heard from he hallway as he slams rhythmically against something over and over. The words are chased by his own screams that echo one final time before it’s swiftly cut short, only to be replaced by a deafening silence that leaves your heart beat thrumming in your ears. Ragged breaths help to filter out the lack of sound as you stay glued in place, not daring to open your eyes. 

A moment passes, then another; What feels like a few minutes go by before you hear anything else. 

“You can open them now.” Your eyes snap open at the almost robotic tone that instinctively feels familiar. 

A quick sweep around the room showed that there was nobody there; in fact, there was no sign that they had ever been there in the first place. The only thing that was different was the TV, which was still lit up, the same words that were spoken to you depicted in white letters in the textbox. 

You can open them now.

The screen dropped to black, and then lit up again. 

All done. You’re welcome. 

The screen went dark for the final time that night, and all that was left was the silence. 

Next Part

[writeshite]

This is my first time requesting sth and it feels weird, okay-

So, for about a week I had that one idea of a Morpheus/Love!Mmmale Reader, Like hes one of the Primordal Gods-> More important than Morpheus and [...]. ON the point. I wanted to ask for an angst to fluff. Like while Morphy is locked or, Reader, who is married to Morpheus, falls asleep and noone can wake him up, so people(and gods too ofc) slowly Loose their love(Love in as the feeling). AND WE ALL NEED LOVE. So when morpheus then wakes up again he goes back home, cant find his Husband he searches evrywhere, He has a lot of canonly flashbacks and stuff blablabla. After a while he visits the Readers Realm and sees that it's also destroyed blublublub he wakes them up and happy end. I just have I writerblock atm...

If u want to u can add smut but idrc '-' Also its just fine if u dint wanna write that. :D

With greetings

~Luce

It Is Better To Have Loved And Lost (Than Never To Have Loved At All)

Summary:

Among the thousands in existence, you chose him. Took his hands and demanded he ignore the ire of your kin, placed a ring on his finger, and declared yourselves wed. “I am Love; my union ascends all others; we need no blessing nor any witness,” Morpheus remembers laughing, head bumping yours as you swayed with him. “My Love….” he whispered to himself, head hanging; he heaved in a breath, glancing up at the harsh light above; surprising himself, Morpheus prayed. He muttered your name, you were a god, you would answer his prayers, but there was no such luck.

Pairings:

Morpheus x Male!Reader

Tags:

Primordial God Of Love Reader | Angst With A Happy Ending | Sleeping Beauty Elements | Reunions | Flashbacks |

Words: 3981

Author's Note:

Welcome, I adore the request, and as usual, went diving through the internet for some of that good ol' ✨research✨ I also spent way too long reading through Greek Myths, but that was just for my own amusement.

The bleak sandy plains of the dreamworld were one of the last things you saw; the domes and expanses you and Morpheus had once spent hours crafting had fallen, shifting to nothingness as the realm died in its primary ruler’s absence. All around the remains of the palace, dreams faded; the nightmares were not spared this fate, their forms dissipating. Lucienne had long since left, possibly in search of another primordial god, one who could perhaps drag you from your stupor and continue your duties. But how could you, your husband, the very being whose love you’d come to crave, was gone. 

The anguish of the waking world without Morpheus sent you diving into the dreaming world; very few gods ever chose to sleep; you’d only done so before to experience what humans did, and now you did so to dream. To dream of your husband. Of his voice. Of his eyes. Of his love. You slept to dream of what you’d been so unfairly robbed of. It had started simple; you’d lie on your side, eyes distant yet thoughts running, then you’d closed your eyes, relaxed your mind, and the thoughts became a nigh reality. His voice close yet far, the memory of his touch a shiver on your skin - the rush of euphoria had sent you falling from the bed. It had only been a few minutes, and your consciousness - the very being of love - had barely left the world unnoticed then, but now? Now you curled away at every chance. Hours became days, then weeks, and soon enough, you went six, maybe seven months sleeping, all the while the world around you withered, love thinning as your mind turned to slumber.

The higher beings were well aware. At first, they hadn't thought much of it, but now they quivered as they turned against each other, hatred seeping into their celestial domains, and what little devotees they had turned away, they came, begging, screaming, crying, but you turned away. They would hound you with pleas, and you would curl the pillow around your head, block them out and walk into the comfort of your dreams. When the Dreaming decayed further, you simply returned to your domain. The Dreaming decayed, but that did not deter you; your own domain - the Gardens - fared no better. The flowers and trees you’d once adored and tilled with Morpheus wilted around you, and a few of the nightmares and dreams followed you, seeking refuge, unknowingly trading one ill fate for another. Their fear, their frustration, your lament, it all soaked into the Gardens; the plants grew, thorns sprouting forth, fruit rotting, and leaves falling; they caged you away. And you rejoiced, welcoming the isolation.

You slid your arms into Morpheus’ coat - the only one you’d managed to grab before they’d all disintegrated - the sky was a starless blanket, and the once abundant wildlife had twisted into nightmarish creatures - cries reminisce of weeping. The blankets lulled you in, warmth loosening your limbs, your eyes drooped, Morpheus’ soft laugh sounded in your head, your arm stretched out along the bed, and you mumbled his name, eyes finally drifting shut. You opened your eyes to Morpheus, the world around you equal parts a dream and a memory - the Gardens as they once were, golden domes polished, outlandish creatures and fantastical plants greeted you. The echoes of the higher beings outside drifted away as Morpheus took your hand, the memory - many happy moments combined - the dream - Morpheus by your side.

“Elegant as always, my love,” his copy spoke, thumb stroking your cheek.

Your eyes softened at the nickname, love, nothing to many, but to between you and him, the greatest declaration, the assertion that your devotion was returned. 

“My love.”

“My love.”

“My love.”

“My love.”

The words strung through your ears, never going louder, as they brought your mind serenity, he held you close, and you did your best to return the touch. His form felt empty and unreal, but you did not dwell on it; too much introspection and the dream would fall apart. You drew apart, “Shall we head to the terrace?”

You nod, and the world moves; the terrace comes to you, a table laid set, synthetic food lay waiting, aromas you remembered surround you, and the phantom touch of the sun shone brightly as you dined. Books flew at your command, but their pages held no words, at least none you’d understand - gibberish passages replaced the hymns of Apollo - despite that, you read, remembering what it was meant to be.

Morpheus held out his fork, a piece of cake on end; it tasted of nothing and everything, flavors of cakes from eons gone past, merged with imagination and memory as they danced on your tongue. The tastes of the other foods followed the same pattern, but it mattered little to you. 

“My love.”

“My love.”

“My love.”

“My love.”

The echo returned, and you slumped back, thinking of the open foyer in the upper domes; you blinked, finding yourself there. Your head lay in your lover’s lap, his hands combing out the strands of your hair; you began to hum, nothing in particular but your voice carried through. The euphoria returned, imbedded with your love for Morpheus, partial but powerful, your mind drifted into a haze, and you welcomed it.

“Ridiculous,” Morpheus muttered, “Heinous. Betrayal. Blasphemy.”

“We’re going to socialize with others of our kind Morpheus,” you sigh, “not being led to the gallows.”

The endless groans, burying his head in your shoulder blades, he’s still comfortably dressed in his casual attire, whereas you don your signature fit. A pastel neck collar that grew softer as it stretched to your shoulders, parting to showcase your arms, it continued, descending down your body alongside the cape from the collar, slowly morphing into soft feathers at the bottom. Your golden arm braces were heavily detailed in motifs of your domain, and the cloth around your legs began by your belt, split on the sides up to your waist; your legs accompanied your chest, being on full display for all to see. 

“Could we just not stay here?” he asks, and you turn, hands on your hips, and you shake your head.

You open your eyes, smiling to yourself; Morpheus had grumbled about the gathering - fond of very few other cosmic beings - and you’d spent close to a half hour kissing the pout from his face, arriving at the party quite fashionably late. You sat up, finding yourself in the memory of that night, the vision of you and Morpheus, hand in hand, as you spoke to Nyx. Nyx, whose eyes turned to the real you, gaze pitying, “Love —” she called you again, but you shook your head, unwilling for the scene to fade away. She’s swept away, form replaced by memory, the dream is intact again, you enter and dance away the worry. The guilt. And the pain.

Time has no hold here, the only indication of its passing being the interruptions of your kin; Nyx finds her way back in multiple times, star-styled dress drifting behind her. You run, and she chases; you throw what your imagination conjures; sometimes, it’s enough; other times, you have to hide. Her hands always reach out for you, anger and desperation in her gaze.

“Love! Cease these games and awake!” her demand carries over the horizon; you hug your knees; you’re sandwiched among clouds today, watching the primordial night pull at her hair as she searches for you. “Love! Please, we need you, we need Love.”

You place your hand over your ears, lie on your side and bite your lip; her calls die down after the third hour, and you wait another hour before leaving your hiding place. Morpheus appears before you, the copy smiles easy, and you take his hand once more, happy to be free of any disruptions.

Morpheus’ cage allowed him little privilege, his physical form burned at being contained for so long, and he yearned for the Dreaming, his freedom, and you. You, who would lay sweet kisses along his face, tuck a strand of his hair back, and leave a rose in its place. 

“What use do I have for roses?” The flower was devoid of its usual thorns, the petals ruby and soft to the touch, he reached to remove it fully, but you stopped him. Pulling him to sit beside you, you hold his face, tenderly gazing at him, and Morpheus shudders, the adoration surrounding him. 

“They are gifts, testaments to my love,” you’d replied, thumb brushing his cheek, “you so rarely indulge yourself in material possessions; allow yourself this.”

Morpheus smiled to himself; the rose became a fixture in his room, placed in a vase by the bed. You adored leaving flowers in his clothing, little surprises for him to find, something to cheer him up if need be. He’d tried getting you something of equal value, but you’d stopped him, picked him from the ground, and held him in your arms, “I need no other gift than my dream.” His prison has no such luxuries.

“Do be careful, darling,” you’d said to him. 

Morpheus had grinned, “No nightmare could get the better of me, my love.”

“All the same, come back to me in one piece,” you told him, seeing him off with a kiss. 

The last kiss he’d gotten from you, he absent-mindedly reached up to his lips, fingers grazing them; your honeyed aftertaste was fading, as was the usual warmth he felt, the love, it clung uncomfortably around him, as if clinging desperately to this plane. He was thankful to be alone at this moment; what anger he used to mask his despair seemed to slip as he placed his head against the glass of his prison. He traced your name, looping the letters together; he repeated the motion, grounding himself as best he could.

“I love your eyes.”

You’d hold his face ever so lovingly; noses pressed close as you counted the stars you claimed to see. Morpheus would hold you close, head against yours, eyes barely open as you plowed into him.

“I love your voice.”

You liked to hear him speak; the baritone of his voice did wonders when he read to you; you’d work his body as you did the ground, kneading, delving, pulling until his voice grew hoarse and his body became lax.

“I love you.”

Among the thousands in existence, you chose him. Took his hands and demanded he ignore the ire of your kin, placed a ring on his finger, and declared yourselves wed. “I am Love; my union ascends all others; we need no blessing nor any witness,” Morpheus remembers laughing, head bumping yours as you swayed with him.

“My Love….” he whispered to himself, head hanging; he heaved in a breath, glancing up at the harsh light above; surprising himself, Morpheus prayed. He muttered your name, you were a god, you would answer his prayers, but there was no such luck. The love he was adept at sensing was fading, so he sleeps, his only refuge, that which they cannot take from him. He finds himself alone in the dream world; even there, he curls into himself, thinking of you but also of vengeance. 

A century passes, and then another few years before he escapes. Rage is all he feels at first, dissipating only when the younger Burgess is placed under eternal sleep, then its emptiness, uncertainty, and weariness. So long without his tools, he finds himself weak, so long without you, and he finds himself empty. Both leave him feeling uncertain. He returns to the Dreaming to find nothing - no home, no creations, no husband - he finds Lucienne, but she does not meet his gaze at times. When he asks after you, Lucienne grows uneasy, eyes darting and avoiding the question. She teeters on the verge of something, a secret on her tongue, but she says nothing. 

“How do you see through this?”

Morpheus quite liked his helm; having crafted it from the remains of a god, he’d felt proud when he persevered long enough to carve it. “Hang on, I think I’ve got the hang of it now,” you said excitedly. The helm looked out of place on you, but Morpheus paid no mind to that, more focused on the impersonation of him you were performing. You closed your hands behind your back, head high; you deepened your voice and walked forward, “I am the Sandman….” you moved your hands in an arc, fingers spread to emphasize the nickname.

“Are you done?” he asked.

You laughed, pushing the helm up, “Have I offended you, Mr. Sandman?”

“Evidently,” he replied, a small smile on his face; he followed willingly as you dragged him towards you, the helm removed and set aside.

“Oh, how rude of me. Allow me to earn my forgiveness then.”

Lucifer regarded him with mild indifference as he turned to leave; despite the general atmosphere of hell, there was something amiss. Morpheus couldn’t quite put his tongue on it, but the demons and the Lightbringer seemed off, perhaps less emotional than they should be. An odd hypothesis, but “What’s wrong with you?” he asks either way.

“As if you don’t know,” she responded, glaring as if waiting for him to say something. When Morpheus looked at her with confusion, she paused, eyes squinting before she laughed in disbelief, “Come now, Dream King, your games won’t do you any good, not when this affects us all.”

“I don’t understand —”

“Oh, you really don’t know, do you?” She grins wickedly, dismissing him with a wave of her hand; Morpheus leaves hell more confused than when he entered. Retrieving the Ruby leaves him exhausted, and Morpheus becomes acutely aware of a dull feeling, the rush of his powers again covers it, but when he focuses on it, he finds it, the hole in his being; it’s not until his hostile reunion with Desire that he understands what is amiss. Love, there was no love. This became ever more clear as he watched the humans; the park he’d fed birds at wasn’t crowded; the few people that were around seemed robotic; some still moved about as they should, but sometimes, they would stop, as a collective, expressions downcast as if in mourning. The children are perhaps the worst off, some of them cry, and their parents, the adults around them, almost don’t care, numb to their spawns.

“You know then?” Lucienne’s question drew his attention; she stood solemnly beside him, having appeared with another - Nyx, the Night - her usual starry appearance was as empty as a cloudy night sky. 

“I know as much as I knew when I regained my freedom,” he replies, “yet, I know little of my husband. Where is he?”

“In a prison of his own making,” Nyx spoke, voice equal parts exhausted and full of rage, “though I am remiss to consider it that anymore.”

“These cryptic answers give me nothing but headaches,” he grimaces.

Nyx fully turns to him, and Lucienne steps back, the primordial goddess is not one to be angered, but Morpheus has grown weary - every other person he’s come across knows, every single one making it clear it involves you - yet they refuse to explain. 

“It’s best if you see for yourself,” Nyx tells him.

Morpheus remembers the first time he stepped foot in the Gardens, an accident really, at a time when the cosmos was relatively young, you’d been in the midst of ‘borrowing’ a few animals from the early Earth. He remembers how sheepish you’d looked when he’d bumped into you, dinosaur egg terribly stashed away, “I’m preserving them,” you’d defended, clutching the eggs to your person, “besides, Gaia will have them dead in a few millennia, what harm would it do to keep a few?”

You always were handsome, even when thieving things from another’s domain. You’d been caught, of course; Gaia was the more observant of the primordials, but it had been fun, and he’d joined you on many more ‘preservation trips.’ The Gardens had been a sight to behold then; what could have been and what had been grew unhindered, kept beneath your domes and around the domain; they remained forever new, never wilting, nothing like the Gardens he saw now. The entrance was covered in tall thorny branches; wilted, unhealthy roses sprung from them, some reaching out to attack anything that got too close on either side - over that, he spotted movement, the animals you’d once adored had been replaced by monstrosities, their shrieking howls reverberating around him. 

“He’s been asleep all this time? Did none of you think to wake him or check on him?”

“You think we haven’t?! We can’t get past this; the only way I’ve been able to see him is in his dreams, a feat already difficult given your previous predicament,” Nyx seethes at him. “He refuses to wake.”

“No –he wouldn’t —I don’t believe you,” Morpheus turns his back on them.

Lucienne sighs, “Love’s been disappearing in the world; there’s no solution, none that we’ve found —wait!”

Morpheus had slowly been moving towards the branches and, at Lucienne’s call, had climbed over one; he shifted the size of his body, jumping, and ducking over the obstacles, all the while ignoring the warnings from his companions. He stumbled through to the other side; the creatures turned in his direction; Morpheus trekked past them slowly, always sure to keep them in his sight, growing antsy the further he made it into the Gardens. The first attack came from a flying beast, Morpheus had bumped into one of the columns, and the sound seemed to have been enough incentive to launch an attack on the endless. It dug its talons into his sleeve, making off with a good chunk of it when he swatted it away. The ones closer to land pounced at him, claws and teeth ready to make a meal of him.

They bite at his heels, and no amount of sand will put them to sleep. He looks around, mind racing to plan an escape; most of the stairs have decayed, and the only way into a majority of the structures seems to be climbing; he picks one of the lower domes - with broken windows, and a tree already crashed into it, he makes haste, ignoring the gathered animals below him as they reach up. He’s even happier when they don’t follow him, turning their backs, as Morpheus does the same. The interiors are just as altered, portraits covered in dust as vines crawl their way along their frames, and the plants are as twisted inside as they are outside. The carpets curl along their tears; Morpheus notes the silence, the occasional sound from outside coming through.

Your chambers were the only safe haven, unchanged as they were; the doors squealed as he entered. Your body lay beneath the covers, his coat around you, and the curtains drawn shut; the closer he got to you, the less dull he felt. The retreated love was here, amplified tenfold into whatever dream you were in. He shook your shoulder, calling your name, but you remained asleep, snuffling and rolling over, “Darling, please, you must awake,” he tried.

No response.

You smiled, mumbling his name, and snuggling further into the duvet. Dreams, you were trapped in your dreams; you needed to step out from the dreams. Morpheus positioned himself more comfortably, “Sorry for the intrusion,” he says before entering your dream.

He falls. Fast and without control, it takes him a moment to gain it, and when he does, he meets the ground far softer. The world around him is the Gardens as they were; he hears music and heads towards it, but the world doesn’t allow him, it redirects him away, and Morpheus has to assert his control. Vines shoot out to hold him back, but he persists, tripping over them onto a terrace to see you laid back with him, correction an imagined him - the details are near identical, but Morpheus, on account of the mob of beasts, is far more rugged in appearance. 

“Love?” He calls out, and you look at him, surprised to see him; the imagined him vanishes as you stand and back away.

“This is cold, by a lot of standards, this is very cold,” you mumble, “imitating my husband so you can drag me back into the waking world.”

“Imitat —no love, it’s me, I swear,” he reaches out, but you almost flinch, backing away further from him. 

“No, you’re not because he’s not here, he’s gone, and I can’t do a thing about it. So just turn around and leave me be.” He steps closer, and you step back, circling each other and getting nowhere; he reaches out at times but your retreat, using the dream space to keep him away. “You’re persistent; I’ll give you that.”

“I persist because —”

You hold out your hands in a shushing motion, “No, I don’t want to hear it; I’m sick of the fabricated nonsense you’ve all said.” You turn away from him, swinging one leg over the balcony, but Morpheus reaches out, dragging you back by your shirt - you topple into him, landing atop him; you twist around and pin his arms in the air, now thoroughly frustrated. “Why can’t you just fuck off?!”

“Because I want my husband awake,” he replies.

“Stop it! You are not my Morpheus. You’re just some cheap knockoff!” 

He winces when your grip becomes tight, the searing burn of your powers on his arms, “Please love, I swear it’s me,” he pleads, “Look at my eyes, really look at them.” Even with the power of imagination, nothing quite captured Morpheus’ eyes; you squinted your eyes and shook your head, expression morphing away from wrath.

“No, this has to be a trick; I can’t fall for this again; I don’t think I could bare it….” You say, grip becoming loose again. He sits up slowly, wrangling his arms free, your own moving to hold your heads, “....I can’t….please….don’t make me….” you sobbed.

Morpheus calmly moved your hands aside, now holding your face, “Love,” he calls your attention once more when you refuse to meet his gaze, “I assure you, as I live and breath, I am real.” 

“You can’t be; it’s —” you’re still crying, words cut out and muddled as the sobs wracked your body. 

“I am real,” he repeats. Morpheus recites the words as many times as it takes, always keeping your gazes locked; after once such repeat, your hand comes up to his face, thumb rubbing softly against his skin. Your eyes widen, “See,” he says, bringing your hand back and kissing it, “real.” It’s a rush when you collide with him, clinging to him desperately, “Now, will you wake up for me, my Love?”

You shake your head, “What if you’re not there? Even if this isn’t a trick, it could just be me,” you lamented, “me and my madness.”

“No love, I promise, if you open your eyes, I will be there,” he reassures you; you’re closer now; the silver of his eyes shines with determination; he leans closer, “and I won’t ever leave you again.” He closes the gap; at first, you’re in shock, but then you cling to him, hands fisted in his shirt, your eyes shut to the dream and open to the waking world. As he’d promised, Morpheus was there; you reach out hesitantly, and when he is as tangible as he were in the dream, you gasp, gathering him in your arms as he awakes. 

He holds you, placing kisses on your head as you weep happily; you draw back and kiss him. Morpheus feels the overwhelming rush of love; the hollowness is easily filled as he reciprocates, laughs shared between moments as you rejoice in your reunion.

End Note:

I rewrote this like three times before I was happy with it lmao 🤣 Stay Hydrated.

[marshallsgirl]

You don't know what you did to me

Pairing: Eminem x Fem¡Reader

Summary: y/n dance for Marshall

Warnings: 🔞MATURE READ AT YOU OWN RISK

Author's note: go to Youtube and look Chris Brown Under the Influence - Jordan Laza dance from BraveHearts Nas channel. That was my inspiration for this. Can you imagine havin Marshall and you doin this dance for him? I'd love to do a dance like that to Marshall. Maybe no one will read it, but that's okay. I wanted to post it in here so that when I'm old I can come back here to read it and laugh and feel proud of myself and my crazy thoughts.

Songs you can listen to while reading this: Under the influence-Chris Brown.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤♡¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Marshall:

I thought it would be a good idea to surprise y/n at her dance studio. I haven't been able to see her in a long time 'cause I was on tour. I couldn't wait for her to get home thats why I went to her dance studio plus I wanted to see her doing the stuff she loves, dancing.

So, I went there and I started to hear comments like y/n is dancing with some guy and they have crazy chemistry. And I'm like what the fuck are they talking about. And then I saw it all. I saw y/n movin' her ass in front of some asshole and this motherfucker put his dirty hands on my girl's waist. I was ready to step in but then I saw y/n and she was fuckin' enjoying it. I was so pissed off. I slapped the door behind me and made my way to the exit door. Seconds later I heared y/n callin me

"Babe, we are u goin'?" she asked but I don't even stop to look at her. I just wanted to get out of there. See, this is why I didn't want a fucking relationship. I'm not a jealous man but I knew I was going to flip when I'd see her with guys.

"Marshall, stop!" I heared her say. I continued walking.

Y/n

I saw Marshall just seconds before he slapped the door. I knew he was pissed off. I knew what he saw but if he just stayed a littler longer he would had seen how professional I was. This was just a stupid choreography of song called birthday sex. Yeah, it was a bit sensual I get it. But I'm very professional and I thought Marshall knew that. I ran to catch him. He didn't even stop when I shouted his name.

I got to him when he was about to get in the car.

"Babe, don't do this" I beg him

"Go back there and keep movin your ass"

"Marshall, he is just my dance partner. He's nobody"

"I don't fuckin care, y/n. Go back to him"

I cupped his face on my hands and made him look at me.

"Babe, I'm beggin you don't do this. You know I'm professional its just a stupid dance". I knew those beautiful blue eyes knew I was tellin' the truth. His hands went to my waist. And my lips found his, searching, taking, giving, begging for forgiveness but most important I just wanted and needed to feel his mouth on mine. I kissed him passionately and he kissed me back like his life depended on it grabbing me with one hand to the back of my neck and the other around my backside, he pulled me against him. He walks me backward and I knew he was leading us to the back seats of the car. I hated but I stopped him.

"Babe, I want you to fuck me but first I need to do something"

He's pissed off again. I kissed him once more and then I took his hand and walked him inside the studio again.

"Y/n, what the fuck are u..." he started to said but I didn't let him continue.

"Just be quiet and relax"

So I took him to the dance room, and put a chair in the center and made him sit there. My mates started to clap when they saw him. He showed them his middle finger and I smiled. I put Under the influence by Chris Brown and lay myself on the floor in front of Marshall. This was my way to tellin all the fuckin world that Marshall was the only one I'd do the sexiest dances from now on. And I dance like my life depended on it. And I dance only for my man. During the whole dance I never broke the eye contact with him and I knew I was drivin' him crazy and I also knew I was going to get my punishment as soon as we got home. Everyone was screaming 'cause everyone could see and feel our chemistry, our energy, the desire for each other. At the end everyone was hyped me up, but I only care about Marshall. He loved the dance and we both felt like we could'nt wait to be at home.

To be continue...

[ero-heart]

Ok imma simp for 2bdamned and I thought maybe you could do 2bdamned x reader

but 2bdamned falls into some hole meeting you and you think he's dead as you heal his injuries with your magical long hair, basically rapunzel but your hair is can be a weapon and a shield at the same time...I hope that makes sense to you

Also I LOVE the employer reader story it was HMM!! THE BEST!!

Me too bro I love this man so much I need him 😭

ALSO TYSM I AM GLAD U LIKED MY EMPLOYER READER STORY

Anyway Reader with magical hair x Doc let’s go!

I actually added even more lore and world building 😀 hope you find it fun

Cw: blood, injury

SPELL

(Magical Hair Reader x 2bdamned)

(Can be either platonic or romantic)

You and your people were part of a secret society that discovered the path of enlightenment and true power. How? The answer is in your hair, it’s your hair. Hair isn’t really important in grunt society, many shaving their heads off or leaving it short to keep it practical. But what they didn’t know, is that their hair was a source of great power. The studies of your society’s founder, Alex Burdon, point out that your hair is just as useful as your arms and legs, it can move at your will and help you with mundane tasks. Though his studies were ignored by most people, not having much interest on reading about hair, he gained a certain following that wished to learn more about the secrets of the head fur.

You called yourselves witches, followers of these studies, hiding away on the desert since the founder’s passing, because such knowledge should be kept by people that really “deserve it”, not those bald goofs that that shave off for sport (Witches think very highly of themselves). Most witches were ex scientists of the Nexus, using dead bodies of grunts (witches and non witches), they managed to create a entirely new biome! Your own little oasis of humid flesh plants and dirt. These witches soon took the title of Alchemists considering themselves the leaders, they create “bone nuts” (The name was intentional), whose oil is used to enhance the power of your people’s hair, giving the user a new hair ability (as long as they keep wearing it) to utilize for their liking.

When a witch dies, their body is used to complement the forest that is your home, it’s a comforting thought for you that you will join all of your ancestors in this beautiful biome of meat plants <3

You were a simple witch amongst others, a server of the forest and a healer, not a very popular one though. People didn’t really liked you for your lack of interest on the cult in general, you were just chilling living your hairy life. Today you were tasked to collect berries near the mountain for the production of elixirs by the Alchemists. Walking through the trees, you felt that something was terribly wrong, awfully wrong. It was not only you though, everyone else says that something doesn’t feel right today. The witches suspected that a intruder has invaded their oasis, some going out in search of the outsider. But they wouldn’t find them because they were right In front of you.

Laying on the dry grass, was a unconscious man, definitely not from there. Their face was completely obscured by a metallic mask, the halves of their head shaven and styled upwards in a way you have never seen before. You had no idea what to do, confused and afraid. Slowly you approached the man, taking a better look. There was a clipboard beside him, kneeling down to read there were some notes about a program of sorts, it used very complicated wording so you didn’t really understood what was written, this person must be as intelligent as the Alchemists. You could see a small pool of blood around him, your heart sank. This was an outsider, they were said to be disrespectful and foolish, stupid and crass, but from your knowledge they were just as important to the forest as witches, since their bodies also form the trees that you walk among from, you would end up beside them after your death one way or another as part of nature. You reached out for them, slowly moving their head to the side, touching their shaven sides was weird, the texture making you flinch. Just below the straps of the stranger’s mask was a gash, source of all the blood tainting the ground. This person was definitely dead and there was nothing you could do, except bring his body to the Alchemists to start the process of metamorphosis. Something in you though did not want to leave him like this, opened up and dirty.

You propped the outsider’s head face down on your lap, then attempted to stop the blood using your long vest. Seeing that the blood was stopping, you decided to put your abilities to use. Your hair was wrapped around the man’s gash, you closed your eyes and you took a deep breath to concentrate. When you felt your head vibrate you knew it was working, the wound was slowly but surely closing. That was when the stranger jolted awake and scrambled away from your position. You also jumped, having no expectations that this person might still be alive, especially judging by the quantity of blood that has had to be lost. You had healing abilities, not resurrecting powers! The man gasped and panted while looking at you, as if waiting for you to attack, he reaches for the back of his head, feeling a tingle there from the healing process. Only remembering going on a investigation with his crew and waking up somewhere soft. He looked around the strange place and curses, that was definitely not on his schedule. Still on alert on the new face in front of him, he noted that you held no weapons nor anything that could be used for harm, yet he still chose to maintain his guard up.

“Who are you?”

The man asked calmly, you looked around nervously.

“I- ‘m [name]..”

The man tried to get up but you shuffled closer to him desperately.

“No no no no no! It’s bad for you to force yourself! You need to rest!!”

He was taken aback by your behavior, maintaining his posture he simply quirked a brow and asked.

“Why?”

“You had a bad fall! I managed to heal you but with the quantity of blood you lost, it’s best you to be gentle..”

Taking a better look around the place, he notices the red stain on the ground, along with a rock that fed the earth with the dribles of blood that covered it.

“How come I am not wounded?”

“I- I told you! I healed you!”

You could tell the man before you was skeptical. Outsiders. Now feeling braver and determined to prove yourself to this stranger, you pulled your vest up to show your heavily bruised knees (caused by kneeling and accidentally hitting it on objects too much), that you did not bother on taking care of and separated a strand of your long hair around it. You got the person’s full attention as you concentrate your energy on healing yourself. You didn’t need to wait much as the vibration on your head started and the bruises that covered your skin were now gone.

“Impressive..” The man ponders, “how is this possible?”

He was definitely interested to know what just happened, was this some kind of special ability you had? Have you been born with it?

“I..I am not supposed to tell you..but our hair have magical properties and mine can heal.”

You blushed, no one ever complimented your job before, specially to just heal a simple bruise, to everyone it was just normal and it didn’t matter.

“Hm interesting.. How come you get these powers?”

“It’s the length..and I use a oil to get those too.. b-ut outsiders are not supposed to know that so shhh!”

“Outsiders huh?”

“Y-..yea! You are not from here and you are not welcome!”

The stranger tilted his head and chuckled, amused by your behavior.

“Why help me then?”

This was when you noticed how close you were to this man. When you moved to stop him from getting up, you basically thrown yourself on top of him. You were too flustered to move as he laughed more. His laugh was quiet, for some reason you had an impression that it wasn’t often that he does this. You never felt more embarrassed in your life and you had no idea what to do. You slowly got off of him and sat on the ground.

“ I… it just felt wrong not to help you, I mean.. I am not supposed to help you, but you are a person too..”

He hums and looks over the mountain where he came from, he definitely needs help to get out. As in on cue, his walkie-talkie buzzed on his pocket.

“Doc? Doc? You alive in there? Over.”

You jumped at the sound and got even more confused as the stranger took a weird block off his coat and talked to it.

“Yes, I am. Over.”

You were amazed by this talking block and got a little closer. You had technology on your village, but communicating devices were entirely new to you! Everyone was just so close to each other that we didn’t need one. It buzzed again with the same voice, it responded to the man… Doc?

“Damn thank god. We thought you died over there! Where are you? Over.”

Doc noticed you getting interested, but still kept his attention on his hireling.

“I am down the mountain. It must not have been a large fall since I survived. I’m in some sort of..” He took another look at the flora around him. “Mushy.. tree forest..? Over.”

“Tf. We are sending help. Over.”

Something in you did not want to see him leave. As much as you had some qualms against outsiders, you did not believe they were entirely bad. You also was curious about them, you wanted to know more about the stranger in front of you. He looks at you again.

“Liked my company eh?” He noticed your disappointment with the news that he was going to be rescued. You definitely were as curious about him as he was with you. It’s not everyday that someone just, falls on your home. “I liked your company too. It was nice to know you.”

You blushed again, something about this guy was charming you couldn’t place what.

“Will.. you be back?”

Doc paused, he considered.

“I have work to do…but..” He handed you his talkie. “I will.”

He could use a friend, you were cool to interact to. Better than the guys back there.

“I will alert you of my arrival.”

You couldn’t help but smile widely. You couldn’t wait for when he was back! You must enjoy the time you have with him before he goes.

“Do you have any ability of your own?”

Haa that was long! I really hope you enjoy it qwq I also hope you enjoyed the idea of a hair cult lmao again anon if there’s anything on the story u might want me to change I will!

[sailxrmxrs]

happy birthday quest blooming panic what a lovely day it is indeed. was i awake at ungodly hours trying to come up with an idea that i would be able to write into a half decent birthday fic? maybe, maybe not you'll never know yes i was. anyway my internet was trying to fight me all week so it's been a Time trying to finish this on time but it was worth it bc quest beloved deserves a happy birthday and a happy birthday ONLY. if i see any angst today it's on sight. see u next month for xyx gamers. hopefully my internet won't hate me by then lmao.

Quest shifted under the covers, finally waking from a night of comfortable sleep. The curtains were still closed and the room still dim enough that he could have easily fallen back asleep for another hour or two, though his work schedule would certainly hinder those plans. Quest rolled over, eyes closed again as he reached to pull you in close to his chest. Only, as his arm came down on the spot you always slept in, he was met with empty space. The sheets still held the faintest lingering warmth but you were decidedly not there. Quest sat up, the heel of his hand rubbing the last remnants of sleep from his eyes before finding his glasses so that he might discover where you had gone. It wasn't rare for you to wake up first, but you almost always waited until he had woken too. Or, if you had to leave, then you'd at least wake him up with a soft and sleepy kiss goodbye. It was a tradition he felt almost lost without as he rose from the inviting warmth of the bed in search of you. Last night you'd mentioned needing to run a few errands in the morning but would you really have left so early? Or without telling Quest? It wasn't that he disliked you leaving without him knowing, but rather that he would have wanted to go with you.

In the time since you and Quest had moved in together, he dearly treasured any outing you took as a couple; no matter how mundane or boring the task might seem, Quest found it all so incredibly domestic and he adored spending that time with you. As he sleepily explored your shared home, calling out your name in his husky morning voice, Quest began to grow more and more concerned. Realistically, he knew you'd probably just headed out to run some errands but that semblance of logic did little to quell his unease. However, instead of opting to let those thoughts fester, Quest continued with his morning routine and brewed himself a coffee. If anything, it'd serve to wake him up a little and steal away the aching tiredness that still dwelled in his eyes. As he manouevered about the kitchen, Quest's eyes found the calendar that hung beneath the clock on the kitchen wall. His birthday. Every year it came around and still managed to take him by surprise. His birthday was never really an event that Quest waited in anticipation for, particularly in his adult years—he barely even remembered the last time he celebrated it. Though he certainly remembered the gentle scolding you gave him the previous year when he accidentally let slip that it was his birthday. He hadn't hidden the fact intentionally but the thought to share it simply hadn't crossed his mind, a result of his own lacklustre views on the so-called 'special' day.

This was to be his first birthday since moving in together—and also the first one that you were aware of. A thought flashed in Quest's mind that perhaps the reason you'd snuck out so early was because you were planning something for his birthday. Neither one of you had discussed potential plans so Quest naturally assumed the day would pass by fairly uneventfully. It would’ve been nice to celebrate, of course, but he hadn’t dwelled on the thought long enough to consider asking what plans you might want to make. As Quest leaned against the kitchen counter taking his first sip of coffee, he heard the sound of the front door unlocking and you arriving home. Within moments you were in the kitchen, a pleasantly surprised look on your face to see Quest awake and about.

"Hello, you." You hadn't yet shrugged off your coat as you bounced over to Quest, nose tinted pink from the biting chill of the morning air.

Quest slid a mug towards you, prepared exactly how you liked it as you came up beside him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Happy birthday, love. Thought you'd still be in bed by the time I got back."

"Not worth having a lie in without you there," Quest hummed, taking another sip of coffee. "Where did you run off to, anyway?"

You spared a quick glance toward the front door of the apartment before noting Quest's poor attempts to hide his avid curiosity. "I was hoping you'd still be asleep so I could make the surprise more exciting but I guess this will do. Go sit on the sofa and close your eyes. And keep 'em closed. No peeking or no present."

"Being with you is enough of a gift for me," Quest teased, his hands reaching for your waist while you playfully tried to push him away.

"You are disgustingly cute sometimes. But also I hate it." Despite your words, you relinquished to Quest's hold on you, relishing in the warmth of his bare chest on your cheek. The two of you stayed there, suspended in time, until the anticipation of seeing Quest's reaction to his birthday gift overcame you. "There's plenty of time for birthday cuddles later. For now, ass on couch and eyes closed."

Quest chuckled, amused by your impatience but he listened to your instruction this time around, planting himself down and closing his eyes. There was a hint of temptation to open an eye just to see how you might react but he decided against it, feeling your eyes scrutising him for a sign of disobedience. Satisifed that he wouldn't sneak a glance, you headed back to the front door where you had left Quest's birthday present—the most important of them anyway. You had some smaller gifts hidden away in your wardrobe but those could wait until later. You had a strong suspicion that Quest might care for this one a little more.

"Okay, open your eyes in 3, 2, 1."

Quest's eyes opened, adjusting to the light once more as he looked for a change in the scenery. At his confusion, you told him to look by his feet. Sniffing the floor by Quest's feet was a small labrador puppy, a bright golden colour as it explored all the new sights and sounds.

"You didn't," Quest said, disbelief and surprise all over his features.

"I did." You grinned at Quest as he reached down to pick up the puppy, now excitedly greeting its new father. "You're always saying how you'd love to get a dog someday so I thought it was about time to grant that wish."

Quest smiled at you as the puppy bounded off to explore the apartment, paws skittering along the floors. His hands sought out yours, fingers intertwining and interlocking as he blinked away the tears that collected in the corners of his eyes. "Have I ever told you that you're a literal angel?"

"Once or twice," you laughed as Quest pulled you onto his lap, arms enveloping your body as he buried his face into the crook of your shoulder, leaving a smattering of kisses on the skin.

"Well I'll say it again. You're an angel. What did I do to deserve you?"

"None of that," you reprimanded, pulling back from his grasp and taking his face in your hands. "You are deserving of it all. But we should probably go find our new baby. Before they get to your gifts before you can." You moved from your spot in front of Quest, hands finding his as though there were magnets, or a string binding the two of you together; wherever one went, the other was assured to follow no matter the physical distance that may emerge between them. Whatever plans Quest had been expecting, this was so far removed from how he'd thought the day might go. But he could not have felt more loved than in this moment. If Quest could bottle any emotion, it would be this one: pure, unadulterated adoration and appreciation for all that you were. Quest couldn't imagine a life without you in it—didn't want to imagine such an existence. Before he had met you, Quest was merely drifting through life. Sure, he had plenty of nice memories from his time in the server, but he hadn't felt like he was truly living until that fateful day you made your way into his life. Since then, Quest felt as though he was finally seeing in colour, finally experiencing life and all its wonders as they should be experienced. And, as he watched you laughing as the small puppy came bounding into your arms, Quest knew this was the exact brand of happiness that he would never let slip from his grasp. So with all the love in his eyes, he came to your side where he strived to be for as long as he lived.

[veliamore]

Hi it’s me again sorry I just have another idea 😭 Can I request Sumire, Yashiro, Kou, Mitsuba, and Yokoo Doing the Pocky stick game?

(Take your time and have a nice day/night ^^)

i actually searched on how you play this game 👁️👁️

pocky stick game

; yashiro :

yashiro texted you she had a surprise and to meet her om the roof of the school

so you did

when she showed and saw you she sprinted screaming

" [name] LOOK WHAT I BOUGHT !!! "

she showed you a small box of pocky sticks

" u - uhm i was thinking that maybe , you know .. you wanted to play the pocky stick game with me ?? .. "

of course you agreed

she was blushing but also happy that you accepted

her goal was obviously to kiss but it was more difficult than it seemed

she was so nervous

she ended up getting the stick out of her mouth so many times

she was really sad because she couldn't kiss you

the pocky box finished

seeing her frustrated you grabbed her chin and began to kiss her all over the face

" if you wanted some kisses you could've just said so , nene ! "

" but it would've been more funnier with the pocky ... "

; kou :

it was you who suggested to play this game

you like to see him flustered

and he likes to kiss you

so its a win - win

he thought he was easy

it wasn't.

he was so anxious that he lost one , two , three rounds

he was about to let the stick out of his mouth again when you held his chin , ate the pocky , and kissed him

seeing his reaction was so funny you started laughing

he was like in a little coma

after that his confidence had grown up and he won more rounds / kissed you many times

; mitsuba :

it was always an idea of yours

he didn't know what this game was

at first he thought it was some kind of perverted game 😭

once you explained it he began to tease you

" oh so you just want to kiss my cute face huh ?? I mean who wouldn't "

shut him up putting a stick into his mouth please

anyways

all his teasing nature went over the window once you started playing

the air between you two was heated ( it's not true but mitsuba was literally sweating )

he wanted to win at least one time but he continued to lose

he gave up and kept giving you a pouty face

kiss him all over the face he just wanted to have some love without destroying is ego 🙏🏻

; yokoo :

he came to you with the box of pocky sticks robbed from satou

he was so excited to play with you

he was giggling the whole time

though when you started

he just kep kissing you

he didn't care abou winning or losing

bro just wanted to kiss you and having fun togheter

he continued like that until the box finished

( satou was so pissed at him smh )

; sumire :

at first she brought the pocky box just to eat them with you

then you gave her the idea to play

she was blushing at the thought but she couldn't help but to wanting to play the soon as possible

she was actually really good at it and didn't lost her concentration to the embarrassment

she won a couple of times

but you still wanted to kiss her

so , suddenly you moved your mouth ahead , ate the pocky and before she could react , you kissed her

it lasted a couple of seconds

" it's not fair [name] ! You didn't even gave me the time to react !! >:( "

obviously she secretly liked it

im really sorry if this took too long but on monday i have an important test and i need to study hard for it 🧍‍♂️

[geekyzelda]

Sending u this ask because I desperately want to hear about your post-apocalyptic septimus heap au 👀👀👀

OK. It's been forever but I finally went back through the draft and here is a rough summary.

I was initially calling it the Film Noir AU because I wanted that context to flavor the tone of it. I had 23 pages written out and no outline. Whatever is left has long been lost in my brain.

Here we go:

Picture this: The castle is in ruin. The walls crumbled, people evacuated, and a Darkeness settled over the place like none have seen before.

The Darkeness is controlled by the (slightly more competent than canon) Custodians and is inhabited by all kinds of ugly, creepy creatures.

Our Main Character: Toddhunter Moon, around age 15, arrives at the abandoned ruins of the Castle searching for answers.

Her whole village fell pray to a smattering of Darkeness and she followed rumors and stories south to this place. All she knows is she must find a man named Septimus Heap to help her. Some shop owner along her journey planted the idea in Tod’s head that Septimus is hiding in the Ice Tunnels.

Todd slips into the Darke Castle ruins and is immediately attacked at the hands of a group of Things. They’re making plans to eat her when a young, blonde, green eyed man steps in to save her. He calls himself Sum.

Todd begs Sum to help her find Septimus Heap. After he says no too many times, he agrees to help her find the ice tunnels on the belief that anyone who’s still willing to save the Castle from its downfall will be hiding in the tunnels.

On their way to the ice tunnel entrance, Sum explains the Castle is under a Darke Domain. No one’s positive how it started, but people speculate it was through the actions of a dumb kid. Tod explains she knows absolutely nothing about Magyk.

They reach the Tunnel entrance inside of an old row house (It was Marcellus’s house. In the actual writing I was trying to be clever and imply Marcellus died when the domain took over by saving Sep’s life somehow).

Sum takes Tod into the Ice Tunnel, they stand under the entrance, see it’s uninhabited and mostly caved in and Tod agrees to leave because she’s skeeved out. As she goes to climb the ladder out with Sum behind her, something grabs her ankle and pulls her deeper into the tunnels.

Sum chases after Tod and finds a ghost sucking the life out of her. Sum threatens the ghost but it doesn’t stop feasting on Tod. Half-conscious, Tod watches an incredible amount of purple power flow from Sum. As she passes out, she hears him say something about “angering the seventh son.”

More under the read more

Some time later, Tod wakes up wrapped in blankets. Sum and a new person, Beetle, are arguing about whether or not Sum should have saved her life at all. Beetle is Upset at the amount of power Sum used and is concerned the Custodians will find them.

When Sum sees Tod is awake, he makes her eat a bowl of bland soup and leaves her in Beetle’s care while he leaves for the vault to search for something. (“Why are you going to the vaults?” Beetle asked with suspicion in his voice as Sum stood with a puff of dust. “To search for my long-lost love for you.” Sum winked at his friend.)

Alone, Beetle tells Tod they’re in an office in the old Manuscriptorium. Beetle’s known Sum for years, but befriended his brother first.

Yes, Sum has family, a few brothers. No, he hasn’t known where they are since the Domain began. Me? My mum lives in the port. Far as I know she’s safe. Dang kid, you really know how to endear yourself to a person through a single conversation.

“Can you do Magyk like Sum?”   Beetle snorted and said, “No one can do Magyk like Sum.”   “What do you mean?”   “I mean, no. I can’t do Magyk. It’s an acquired skill.”

Beetle and Tod are bonding when Sum bursts into the room yelling that he’s going out. He won’t answer questions of where he’s going and won’t let either of them come along.

When Sum’s gone, Tod suggests they follow him. Beetle protests saying he is here to protect the manuscriptorium. “If I go down, this place, and most of the Castle’s history, goes down with me!”

Tod leaves the office, meanders through a dusty and decrepit Manuscriptorium and finds the front door. Outside, she realizes she has no idea how to follow Sum when Beetle opens the door behind her. He hands her a tracking charm and says he’s going with her. The tracking charm works for Tod (Obligatory Wow she’s got Magyk! moment) and they’re off!

We switch to Sum’s POV. He is running around the Castle towards the Palace. Dodging custodian guards, he is searching for Dungeon number one on the hope that the answer to the Darke Domain will be in the dungeon.

Fortunately, Sum finds the door to the Dungeon using Magyk. Unfortunately, the Magyk tips the guards off and they catch Sum outside the door and march him off to a meeting with the Supreme Custodian.

I deadass used the phrase “Take him away boys.” I assume I was tired when writing this.

Beetle and Tod happen to be watching from a rooftop above when Sum is captured. They make a plan to follow the guards and see what they can do to free Sum.

Sum is taken away to the Supreme Custodian in the palace. Beetle and Tod manage to sneak in and are listening to the conversation through a crack in the crumbling wall.

The Supreme Custodian threatens Sum for messing around in a place he doesn’t belong. Sum says the custodian is the one who doesn’t belong and the custodian fires back, “Funny for you to say seeing as it’s your fault we’re here, Septimus Heap.”

Tod leans too heavily on the brick wall they’re hiding behind and crashes into the throne room with Beetle tumbling in behind her.

A fight breaks out. Septimus uses Magyk to break his manacled hands and teleports himself, Beetle, and Tod out of there.

This is where the writing I had ends but I had a little bit more planned.

Sep takes them back to the Mauscriptorium where Tod confronts him about lying to her about knowing Septimus Heap.

Sep comes clean and admits to letting the custodians into the Castle and allowing/causing the Darke Domain to settle in.

At some point in this conversation, a sound comes from outside the building. They look out to see a knight of some kind walking unnaturally down the street.

The knight stops in front of the Manuscriptorium and Sep is called out to battle.

An ~intense Magykal battle~ ensues and Sep manages to take out the foe. In the fight, he realizes there’s a person under that armor but they’re moving unnaturally like a puppet.

Sep knocks the helmet off and realizes he’s battling Marcia. Right as he makes a killing blow.

She comes to her senses after the final blow and says something dramatic. “You better save us. I’m proud of you. It’s not your fault.” All that good stuff.

Somehow, the story *resolves* (This is where my draft ended.)

The crew finds Jenna in Dungeon #1 and her release helps fend off the Darkeness.

Merrin was the one who brought in the Darkeness, not Sep, which the audience would learn through some form of dramatic irony.

The Heap family has been hiding out at Draggen island all these years and are alive and well

The Darkeness spread to Tod’s home via the tunnels and when it’s banished from the Castle, Tod’s home is saved too.

Spitfyre was in there somewhere?? Controlled by the custodians maybe? I’m not sure. All I have is one vauge sentence and a 5+ year old memory of wanting to include him.

Funny quotes:

Tod: “Fine. I may be young but I have sailed on my own to another country. Can you say that?”  Sep: “No.” Tod: “That's what I thought.” Sep: “I can say I've flown to another country though.” Tod: “What?” Sep: “What?”

Tod: “I'm 15. Would you stop treating me like I don't know anything, please!” Sep: “Well, I'm older than 15 and I do know everything. So, compared to me, you really don't know anything.”

Tod:  "It’s not every day you have someone save your life.”  Sep: “With the way you act, I’m surprised I’m the first person today.”

Beetle: “By the sound of it she was going to get herself killed before you intervened.”  Sep: “What else was I supposed to do, let her die?”  Beetle: “No-” “Because that’s where she was headed, Beet. Death.”  “I understand that, but-” “I couldn’t just let another kid die, Beetle. I couldn’t.” “I know-” “I can’t believe you would even suggest-” “Are you done with the guilt trip? Yes, I am glad she’s alive, sheez.”