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belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years

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Hello! I saw your asks open and i wanted to request some angst headcanons with dad!Asmo. I just read Luci's and oh man that sure hurt my heart, you write angst so well!

Unwanted (Dad!Asmo x F!Reader) ANGST

A/N : Mammon plays a really big part in this, just as Beel played a big role in the dad!Lucifer fic. It's never hinted whether they're together or not, it's kind of up to the imagination... but if you'd like, I can write a part two to this??? (I will also, to anyone who might want it, write a part two to the dad!Lucifer fic)

Word Count : 2.3K Warnings : pregnancy ; children ; maternity ; babies ; hinted abortion ; angst ;

He never wanted children, he didn’t want anything that would actually tie him down to anything or anyone. It wasn’t his “thing”, and you both had done everything to prevent it from happening. Up until now, everything had worked, there had never been one mistake, but the both of you got sloppy. There was a party, and… well, you loved him, and he had said that he loved you, and precautions weren’t a “thing” at that moment. One slip up, one mistake, and now everything was falling apart.

“I didn’t want this. I don’t want that.” He spat the words at you, pointing towards your stomach. He had only stopped pacing long enough to say it before starting again, walking the length of his room as he gnawed at his perfectly manicured fingers. You hadn’t expected anything different from him, but it still hurt that he was blaming the whole thing on you, as if it didn’t take 50/50 participation to make something like this happen. “It’ll completely ruin my image. A child with a human! It’ll be all over the tabloids, in every magazine… I can’t have that.” His behavior shouldn’t have been that shocking to you, but to hear just how selfish he really was, to know that he thought so little of you, it hurt way worse than you ever thought it would. One moment he was professing his love to you, and now he’s disgusted with you. It could have been that your emotions were running high from the situation, or maybe the hormones had just taken over completely, but you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and you wanted to fight him. “Your image?! This thing could kill me and all you care about is your stupid public persona… Screw you! I wish I never fell in love with you.” His eyes went soft, and for a moment you thought that maybe he’d apologize, maybe he was rethinking his own words, his actions, that maybe you’d be able to be a team to work through this mess. You were wrong, you were so wrong. “Wish all you want, we both know you’d have never been able to resist me.” Narcissistic, selfish, he was just awful. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to fight back the tears as you walked past him. He didn’t deserve your last words, he didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t deserve you.

The twelfth week was supposed to be the most exciting. It was when most couples would finally make their announcements, happily tell family and friends that they were expecting. Your twelfth week was a nightmare. You were trapped in the Devildom, human doctors wouldn’t know what the hell was going on if they delivered a child with horns, a child so angelically demonic that they’d probably call the hospital priest to your room as soon as they saw it. The only place where you’d be able to safely deliver a child like this and live through it would be in the Devildom. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to relieve yourself of the problem. You had gone to Lucifer, Satan, Barbatos, even Lord Diavolo, asking them if there was any way that they could just… get rid of it. Sadly, Asmodeus wasn’t just a narcissistic, selfish prick, he was also sadistic. None of them could do anything without Asmodeus’ approval since it was his child too. Every time one of them asked him, he would refuse. He didn’t even give a reason, he just wanted to see you suffer. Strangely, you had found comfort and solace in Mammon. You were pretty sure he was only helping because he still had a crush on you, but he became your emotional, mental, and physical support throughout everything. You had told him many times that he didn’t have to basically “fill in” for Asmo, but he insisted that it was the least he could do considering his little brother was being a dick. He wasn’t just your support at the house, he was… invested in the child that Asmo hadn’t wanted. He took you to doctors appointments, sometimes even getting in the way of the doctor as he pointed to the ultrasound screen. He was so excited that most people just assumed it was his kid, and he never denied it either. It was just easier that way, to go along with whatever the other demons said because he knew that any mention of Asmo would upset you and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Some days the both of you would sit on the couch in the living room, flipping through the pages of maternity books. He’d really try to understand the diagrams on the pages, but you could tell that he was confused and sometimes he’d even look up at you from the pages, and then down at your stomach, and then up at you, before looking back down at the pages. It was cute, and you’d giggle lightly, resting your head on his shoulder as you continued flipping through the pages. He had become the only person in the house that you felt like you could fully trust and rely on. Everyone else wanted to stay out of the drama, nobody wanted to get involved, but Mammon wasn’t there for the drama, he was only there for you, he was there when you needed him.

“Can you believe him? Can you believe both of them? We haven’t even broken up and they’re sleeping together, she’s even wearing his clothes. It’s ridiculous, and Mammon is out there playing dad with my kid.” Asmo sat on the edge of the counter, voicing his complaints to anyone who would listen. Sadly it was Beel’s turn since he was the only one in the kitchen right now. Most of the time the other brothers would just hide themselves away, not wanting to deal with Asmo right now, but Beel had gotten hungry and he really thought he’d be lucky enough to avoid his brother. “I don’t know what the big deal is… You didn’t want the kid anyway.” He wasn’t going to walk on eggshells around Asmo, he wasn’t going to lie to make anyone feel better. In Beel’s eyes, Asmo was completely in the wrong. “If Y/N is finding some sort of happiness in spending time with Mammon, who are you to complain? It stopped being your place when you said you didn’t want it.” He shrugged before grabbing his plate and going straight back to his room. He wasn’t going to continue listening to it, but he hoped that he had left Asmo with something to really think about. He walked up the stairs, going straight to the bedroom door, knocking loudly. He wasn’t going to stop until someone opened the door either. Mammon got up from the bed that you both had been propped up on, rolling his eyes as he walked over to his door, groaning loudly when he saw Asmo standing there. “Whaddaya want? We don’t need ya here… yer just gonna stress ‘er out.” He was trying to talk quietly, not wanting you to hear him or even know who was there. He was so protective of you, he wouldn’t let anyone else serve your food during meals, he’d even stand outside the bathroom door whenever you were in there just to make sure you didn’t fall or hurt yourself. Asmo pushed his way into the room much to Mammon’s annoyance. “I don’t care, Mammon. Y/N isn’t yours, and neither is the child. They’re both mine, and I’d like to have a word with her.” He said snidely, but Mammon wasn’t going to have it. Brother or not, he cared too much about you, he had worked so hard to help you get over what Asmo had done, and he wasn’t going to let him waltz back in and ruin everything. Mammon wasn’t weak, he was way stronger than he looked, and right now he was showing his strength, grabbing Asmo’s arm and practically throwing him out of the room. His teeth were barred and the growl that was coming from him sounded feral, animalistic, it was terrifying. “Neither of them are yers! I’ve been there fer everything, every doctor visit, I even bought a damn room fer the kid and she’s sleepin’ in my room, next ta me, and a next ta Y/N. Ya know why?! ‘Cause ya don’t jus’ get ta come back when ya fine’ly realize that ya fucked up! Now… leave us alone. We don’t need ya here.” He left Asmo out in the hallway, crumpled against the wall as he walked back into the room. “She…” Asmo kept repeating the word as he pushed himself up off the floor. He was having a daughter, and he hadn’t even known about it, he wouldn’t have known about it if Mammon hadn’t screamed at him. It was strange how knowing made things more real, it made him care more, and the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you. He didn’t know how to fix what he had done, but he knew that he had to try at least. “Lucifer…” “I don’t want things to be like this when she gets here. It’s not going to be long either.” You sighed, finally relaxing once more in the bed once Mammon got in next to you. “Why was he here anyway?” Mammon shrugged, focusing all of his attention on your stomach trying to calm himself. He liked watching it move, he thought it was neat.

The delivery was smoother than you thought it would be, and Mammon only fainted twice during the whole thing, so he did pretty good. Delivering a child in the Devildom had its perks, the main one being that you didn’t have to stay more than one day in the hospital to recover. They did some spell and you were completely fine. It was strange, but you appreciated it greatly. The only issue with the perk was that it meant you were going back home and that meant you’d have to face Asmo. She looked so much like him, and you could tell that Mammon was upset by it. Even though he knew she wasn’t actually his, he wished that she didn’t look so much like her father. Her eyes were his exact color, and it left you speechless when she first opened them, gazing up at you with wonder and curiosity. She was precious, and she was yours. As you walked through the door you were met with balloons and streamers, and Asmo. You heard Mammon growl quietly, and you quickly held your hand out to him, silently begging him to stop. He was holding the carseat and you didn’t need him to lose his temper right now. “I just wanted to welcome her home, welcome you home. I bought some things for her, they’re outside of Mammon’s door.” Asmo said nervously, and for once he was terrified of being rejected. “We don’t need noth-” Mammon had started, but you quickly shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to just stay calm. He groaned loudly, eyeing Asmo angrily before walking past him to the stairs. “Fine. She’s prob’ly hungry… I’m gonna feed ‘er. Ya comin’ up?” You nodded quickly, making sure he got up the stairs alright before turning back to Asmo. “What are you doing, Asmo?”

He moved into the living room, waiting for you to sit down before he did, and he looked scared, he looked sad. Of course you didn’t like seeing him like this, but it was his fault, he had caused all of this. “I don’t want to be alone. I know that sounds selfish, that I’m making this about myself again, but I’m not trying to. When Mammon told me… he said she… It's a girl?” You nodded slowly and you saw his face light up for only a second before it left once more. “I was scared, I am scared… I didn’t know if I’d be a good… father. I never saw myself as one, but seeing Mammon, and he’s doing so well… I never saw him as a father either… I thought that maybe, since he could… that maybe I could too.” He sighed, bringing his hand back up to his lips to chew at his fingers again, his orange eyes glistening with the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “I know that what I said was wrong… I was rude. I didn’t think I’d have a problem finding someone to take my mind off of everything, but I was wrong. I love you, and nobody else is going to take your place, nobody else can take your place.” You both sat on the couch in silence, his tears finally falling as he waited for you to say something, and yours building up as you tried to think of something to say. “This isn’t fair… You know this isn’t fair. You can’t… you can’t pick and choose when you want to be a dad. You weren’t there… and you made it very clear that you didn’t want her. I… I can’t do this Asmo… I’m sorry… They’re waiting for me… I-I have to go.” You took a deep breath as you stood from the couch, wiping your tears with the back of your hands as you started walking to the stairs. “Y/N…” He walked up behind you, grabbing your hand to stop you. You didn’t turn around to face him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, but he didn’t mind. He was actually thankful that you didn’t look at him, because what he was about to say was the hardest thing he’d ever have to say in his life. “I know that I’m unwanted… But… If I may… Can I meet her? Just once? Please?”

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a-n-conrad · 3 years

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Pet (Karl Heisenberg x Reader)

[Summary: After being gifted to Heisenberg, you manage to survive his games. From there you start to develop an interesting relationship. And as you start to play the role of his pet, things get a bit interesting. (She/Her pronouns)

Warnings: SMUT, unhealthy relationship dynamics, Author belongs in horny jail, Reader has “female” anatomy, themes of pet play, swearing, biting (Blood), reader is losing her sanity a bit, spanking, oral (both receiving), hair pulling, unprotected penetrative (vaginal) sex

Request: Literally, not a single person asked for this. You only have me to blame.]

You felt a bit foolish, being in the situation you were in. You had been one of the people gifted to the “Lords” of the village to do with as they pleased by Mother Miranda. You had to admit, when you were frightened, even more so when you were handed over to the infamous “mad wolf-man”. He had quite the reputation. But unlike the others, you had proven yourself useful enough for him to keep you around, instead of experimenting on you or feeding you to his lycans.

You survived at first by staying out of his way. It was like a game to him. Heisenberg liked games, and you adapted to them rather quickly. At first, the game was to be the perfect assistant. You’d clean, cook, do minor repairs, and stay out of his way as needed. You were there when he needed you to do something, you’d do it perfectly, and then you’d be out of his sight. And he’d try to catch you slipping up, making you nervous with whispered promises of the punishments that awaited you if you did.

It was an odd dance, having to learn the ins and outs of Heisenberg’s moods. Learning how to tell when he was in a bad mood, and when he was in the mood to joke. And as time went on, it seemed that there were more days when he was in the mood to sit and banter with you. And you started to bond a bit, less as captor and captive, and more as something close to friends, though you wouldn’t necessarily call it friendship.

Eventually, he started to grow a bit fond of you, occasionally joking with you that he had started to see you as a pet. He’d grin a bit as he called you pet names, names that were somewhere between affectionate and demeaning. He’d pat your head, like he was praising a dog, when you did something right. He had even joked about making you a collar to show the rest of the Lords that you were his pet.

You knew you probably should’ve hated it. You should’ve gagged at the idea of a collar, and you should’ve hated his pet names. But you didn’t. You found yourself grinning when he called you a “good girl”. You leaned into his touch when he’d pat your head. You could feel yourself losing your sanity. You had to be insane to feel this way, but as you got to know Heisenberg, you found yourself feeling as though it was worth it.

Karl Heisenberg was an interesting man, and one you had to admit that you were fascinated by. He had a biting form of humor that had become much funnier as you realized you weren’t in the danger that you thought you were, and you could hear the intelligence behind it. His jokes were always at least a little clever, as long as he could keep his head. He was complex, with motivations and actions that didn’t always match. And his emotions were so complicated that you were pretty sure he hadn’t even started sorting through them, choosing to instead deny their existence.

He was a mess of a man. He got mad enough to throw metal scraps of rusted metal around the room when an experiment went wrong. He’d rant for hours about the issues he had with his “family”, having to hold himself back from breaking things when he got to Alcina. He felt as trapped as you did. He thought of letting his appearance go as an act of rebellion. Because of that, he’d go a full week without washing his clothes, letting the blood and oil stain the fabric until it might as well be dye. And he didn’t sleep for days sometimes, choosing instead to stay up all night in his workshop, only leaving when he starts to border on collapsing.

But between his anger issues and dysfunction, you saw something in him that you weren’t sure that even he saw. You saw it in the sparkle in his eyes when he figured out an issue that had been bothering him. You saw it in his sleepy groans when he woke up in the middle of the day after staying up all night before. You saw it in his smirks and smiles as he thought of something clever to say.

He was charming in his own way. Not in the way you thought of charming. He wasn’t elegant like Alcina, but he was warm. He was like a fire. Volatile. Deadly. Beautiful. And warm. And perhaps you were a bit of a pyromaniac, as you found yourself staring into a fire pit, longing to see the damage it could do if you let it free. You wanted to see what Heisenberg could do to you. You wanted to let him.

- - - - -

You were a bit suspicious that you weren’t hiding your feelings very well. Heisenberg was clever, and he was incredibly observant. He needed to be. His “family” didn’t exactly get along with him very well, and knowing what you knew about his “siblings”, they would’ve taken any opportunity possible to kill him and take his place as a favored lord. So he was constantly on his toes. And that meant that you were sure that he had noticed you were acting a bit off recently.

And you were sure that he had figured out exactly what was causing you to act that way, by the way that he teased. There was a glint in his eyes when you started to get flustered that was new to you. The way he smirked at you as he praised you, his hand resting casually on your arm for a few more seconds than before. He had even gone through with his collar joke, though he hadn’t given it to you to wear.

He’d wink at you as he held it in front of you, though. It was a silver chain that was about an inch thick, made into an easily adjusted necklace by the extra bit of chain that hung through the loop. The extra bit of chain that also worked as a built-in leash. He’d hold the collar in front of you, dangling it casually from one of his fingers when you started to get sarcastic with him, making comments about how his “pet” needed to be put in her place. And you’d try your best not to show how much you truly wanted that.

It had become another one of Heisenberg’s games. You could tell that he knew. And he knew that you knew that. So the game became how long you could go without breaking.

“So, kitten,” you jumped a bit as Heisenberg appeared behind you. You were making dinner, and had thought that Heisenberg was still working in his shop. He usually didn’t leave for dinner until you came to get him if he ate dinner with you at all, “You seem a bit spaced out. Care to tell me what you’ve got on your mind?”

You could say what you really wanted to. You could say that you wanted him to rail you until you couldn’t walk. But that would end the game. And Heisenberg only liked to end games if he could win them in a satisfying way.

“Nothing you need to worry about, sir,” You muttered, finishing the food you were cooking and pulling it off of the stove, “Just lost in thought.”

He hummed a bit, noticing how you refused to make eye contact. That wasn’t new, but you weren’t usually so awkward about it, “Come on, pet. I’d like to know if you’re planning your escape or something,” A bit of metal began to dangle in front of your face and you knew exactly what it was, “Honestly, (y/n), I really might have to put this collar on you if you’re going to be keeping secrets.”

“It sounds like you’re just looking for an excuse to put a collar on me, Karl,” You had gotten a bit bold, knowing that the line of how much you could get away with was quite a bit further back, “You can just admit that you’re into that.”

He chuckled a bit, resting the arm that he was holding the collar with on your shoulder and leaning into you just a little bit. You could feel his body heat radiating off of him. You always wondered how he was always so warm, living in this factory, surrounded by the cold metal walls, “I don’t know, pet, you haven’t been protesting quite as much. It seems like you may be coming around to the idea. Maybe you’re projecting a bit.”

He had set his chin on your shoulder by the end of his statement, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear. It had sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he felt it by the satisfied hum that passed his lips.

“You’re not arguing with me, kitten,” he purred as you failed to muster up a rebuttal, “Is that what you want? You want me to put the collar on you? Do I need to put my needy little pet in place?”

Fuck. You shifted a little, trying not to make the throbbing between your legs obviously. You were trying so hard to think of a comeback, but the teasing had been going on for so long that you were reaching your breaking point. You wanted him to fuck you so badly that it made you look stupid.

He grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him. It was so much harder to keep a poker face when you were looking into his eyes, when you could see that glint in them. The kind of glint that made you think he wanted to eat you alive. And you wanted him to.

“If you ask like a good girl, maybe I’ll give you what you want,” his voice came out so much smoother than usual. It intimidated you a bit, knowing that he was holding himself together so well. You knew that there was no way your voice was going to come out nearly as smooth.

“I’m not going to beg, Karl,” Your voice was shaking, but you tried to hold your cool. He always had fun when you talked back a little, and you were hoping that translated to this situation as well. And the wolf-like grin that grew on his face told you that you were right.

“We’ll see about that, kitten.”

- - - - -

You weren’t quite sure when the collar had appeared around your neck. Somewhere between the kitchen and Karl’s bedroom, though, it had snaked its way around your neck, even though his hands never seemed to leave your hips. You were a bit too occupied trying to keep up with his ravenous kisses.

His lips were latched onto your neck as he pushed you through the door to his room. You landed on his bed soon after with a slight bounce. You had been in his room before to clean, but the context was different now. The actual room itself was entirely irrelevant, as Karl climbed on top of you, throwing his hat and glasses to the side, not caring where they landed. All you could look at were his eyes, glowing bright yellow as he looked down at you.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten how much of a fucking brat you’re being,” he growled, looking down at you, “You’ve earned yourself quite the punishment.”

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, biting just below the hickey that was already forming on your neck. He growled a bit as you squeaked in surprise, biting down a bit harder. You both felt when he broke the skin, and something told you that the mark he was leaving was entirely on purpose. He didn’t want anyone to doubt who you belonged to. His fingers dug into your skin, one hand holding your wrist above your head and the other digging into your side just above your hip. You had a feeling you would be covered in marks and bruises in the morning, and you were alright with that.

He pulled your clothes off quickly, throwing them to the side of the room. He wasn’t wasting any time, so you were pretty sure he had ripped through a seam or two on your dress. And he didn’t hesitate to rip your underwear completely in half.

He threw you around so much easier than you had expected. You knew that he was strong, you had just expected it to take at least a little bit of effort. You supposed that you shouldn’t have underestimated his inhuman strength, because in seconds he had flipped you, moving you so that you were on your hands and knees in front of him. You were entirely vulnerable in front of him, entirely bare as he remained fully clothed behind you.

It was weirdly hot, being at his mercy. He wasn’t a good person, and you knew that. In fact, there was still a feeling in your chest reminding you that he could kill you whenever he wanted. But that didn’t matter at that moment. The fear just made it better in some sick way. You knew you were insane, you had to be, but if insanity felt this good, you were going to accept it.

“Now, kitten, be good and stay quiet through your punishment, and maybe you’ll get a reward,” he stated, sliding his hands from the place they were resting on your waist to rest on your ass instead, “Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded in response, not trusting your voice as his hands slid further down, reaching the back of your thighs, one of his thumbs dangerously close to your pussy. His hands were callused, so as they slid across your skin, it created an interesting sensation. Your eyes almost rolled back into your head as his thumb brushed lightly against your clit, and you heard him chuckle a bit at your reaction. However, before you could enjoy yourself too much, he pulled his thumb away, sliding his hands back up to your ass.

There was a pause for a few moments, and you felt his eyes scanning your body. They always seemed to feel so much more intense than anyone else’s gaze ever could. Before you could get self-conscious, though, one of his hands raised from its place, only to come back down hard. The smacking sound echoed through the entire room, and you couldn’t hold back your yelp.

“Now, now, pet, I thought I said to keep quiet. I’ll let this slide once because you’re cute, but any more, and I’ll have to add some more punishment,” he cooed, grabbing the leash of the collar around your neck and pulling it towards him. He leaned forward until he could actually look at your face, seeing the tears prick at the corners of your eyes already, “I’d hate to break my toy right away, so try to behave.”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before shoving your head down into the bed and resuming your punishment. You bit your lip, trying your best not to actually break the skin, as you did your best to stay quiet. You were a bit surprised by how much you enjoyed it. After the first few, the pain started to melt away, hidden behind a numb tingling that sent electricity shooting through your whole body. And it was pretty obvious to Heisenberg as well, when slick started to drip down the inside of your thighs.

You lost count before he stopped, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen. He let out a satisfied hum as he looked at the handprints that were already starting to form, rubbing his hands gently over the forming bruises. You almost started purring as his hands continued to slide across your body.

“You’ve been such a good girl, kitten,” he praises as he moves your body, eventually making you stand in front of him as he sat on the edge of the bed, “Do you want your reward now?”

You nod, far too gone to even try to not look like a desperate fool. He looked proud of himself, seeing you so needy and bare in front of him. It was like a work of art. You had never seen so much admiration and need in his eyes. It wasn’t love. But it was need, and want, and possession.

“Ask nicely.”

You were too desperate to argue. You needed him more than you could remember needing anything, “Please, sir.”

You swore you saw the bulge in his pants twitch at the word “sir” and the glint in his eyes confirmed your suspicions. The grin he gave you showed his teeth, highlighting his fangs like a predatory animal about to lunge.

“Good girl,” He drew it out, shifting his body so that his legs were spread as far as they could be comfortably, before commanding, “Kneel.”

You do as you’re told almost by instinct. It was almost as though your body moved without your brain giving it permission. You had been entirely possessed by your lust. And it only got worse as his hands moved to unzip his pants, only removing enough of his clothing to free his cock.

“You want this, don’t you?” He looked almost amused as your eyes locked onto his cock. You were practically drooling over it. He almost laughed as you nodded, “Enjoy your treat, pet.”

He leaned back a bit, his weight being put on one of his hands, positioned a bit behind him on the bed. He looked so casual as you moved your hands to timidly take the place of his own, which had previously been holding his cock in place. He had to admit you looked adorable, needy and desperate as you kneeled between his legs. You were practically drooling for him.

You started out a bit slow, which surprised him a little. The little kitten licks and kisses felt good enough for him to close his eyes to savor it. However, from the smirk that had formed on your face by the time that he opened his eyes, he realized that you were planning on teasing. He wasn’t about to let that slide.

The hand that he had rested on the top of your head tightened its grip on your hair. “Watch it, kitten. Don’t be a tease,” He growled, pushing your head down a bit until about half of his cock was in your mouth.

With that, your willpower to hold back faded, and you took the rest of him into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat just a bit, making you hold back a gag. And as you looked up at him through your lashes and found him smirking down at you, you could tell that he saw it. You reveled in the soft groans that slipped past his lips when you finally got to work, swirling your tongue around as you bobbed your head. You moaned as he pulled your hair, the vibrations causing him to curse and pull your hair even more, “Fuck, kitten, you’re pretty good at that.”

You continued like that for a few more minutes, his grip on your hair getting tighter and tighter. The salty, bitter taste of precum started to hit the back of your throat, making it a bit harder not to gag. But the sounds that slipped from his mouth fueled you even more. You felt proud, hearing how much he was enjoying himself. You almost felt a bit disappointed as he pulled you off of him by your hair, causing you to whine loudly.

“Aw, don’t worry, kitten,” He says, patting your head, “We aren’t done yet. Why don’t you lay down and let me take care of you? You’ve been such a good girl.”

You do as you're told, without saying anything. As you had gotten into the mode you were in, playing the role of Heisenberg’s pet, talking seemed unnatural. It felt right to listen to his commands, obeying him like a dog. So you laid on your back, spread out and completely bare. And you couldn’t hold back the yelp as he grabbed your hips and yanked you roughly to the edge of the bed, so that as he kneeled in front of you, his face was entirely level with your pussy.

You saw that glint in his eyes again as his warm breath hit your already dripping core. You were getting reckless, trying to inch your way closer to speed up the process, only for his grip to tighten on your waist, holding you in place. He had an iron grip on you, and you were thankful for that as he licked a broad stripe up across your pussy before diving in, focusing almost all of his attention on your clit.

You were practically screaming his name as swirled his tongue around your clit with dexterity you didn’t think was even possible to possess. His hands were definitely leaving fingerprint-shaped bruises on your hips, but at least they were holding you in place as you involuntarily started to buck your hips and arch your back. You could feel the knot tightening in your abdomen, your hands ripping the sheets so hard you were a bit worried that you were going to tear them. He slid a finger into you, hitting at just the right angle to make you squeal. You honestly couldn’t think of a time that someone had made you come undone quite so fast, but you certainly weren’t complaining as the tangled nerves in the pit of your stomach finally seemed to snap.

Karl had to admire you as you came, your head thrown back and your legs shaking. Your skin was practically glimmering from the thin layer of sweat that was already clinging to it. He couldn’t help the pride that flooded into his chest as you started to come down from your high looking absolutely destroyed. He wasn’t done yet, but he was glad to see he had it in him to affect you this much.

He slowly stepped back, his eyes never leaving you as you laid on the bed, trying to catch your breath. He made sure to lock eyes with you as he slowly stripped the rest of his clothes off, layer by layer. By the time you recovered, he was finally taking off his necklaces, dropping them onto the pile he had made with the rest of his clothing. Despite his strength, he wasn’t exactly ripped. His arms were fairly muscular and defined, but he had a bit of squish around his stomach. His body was coated in a layer of body hair, the bits of silver shining in the dim light of the room you were in.

He was attractive in the rugged way that made it make sense that he smelled like metal and cigar smoke as he crawled on top of you, keeping pace as you inch yourself further up the bed. It was only once you had settled into place that he leaned down, kissing you feverishly. It escalated with every second, the hand that he wasn’t using to support his body weight roamed your body. It wasn’t long until his hand was moving your legs, angling your hips to make it easier for him to line himself up with your entrance.

He pulled away from the kiss just long enough to slowly push himself into you, watching your reaction as you slowly adjusted to his width and length. It didn’t take you long to adjust, though, and he could tell when you did. He started off slow. It surprised you how gentle he was being, but you didn’t mind at first. Before long, though, you were craving more. You wanted him to use your body.

“Please,” You whined, “Harder.”

He grinned a bit at your begging, recalling your declaration that you wouldn’t beg. He honestly couldn’t tell what part he enjoyed more, the win he had earned or seeing you beneath him, begging for him. Either way, he wasn’t going to deny you what you wanted.

So he leaned back, shifting his weight to his knees so that he could grab your ankles. He pinned your legs to your chest. As he slammed into you, much harder than before, you could tell just how much the angle had changed. Your eyes nearly rolled back into your head as he continued to thrust into you. Your moans got louder, and he started to groan a bit too, cursing under his breath as his thrusts got a bit uneven.

“Fuck, kitten,” he breathed into your ear as he leaned down, your legs on his shoulders. You could feel him twitching inside of you, getting close to his own ending, “You’re such a good girl.”

You couldn’t help yourself as your hands moved to scratch down his back, digging your nails in as deeply as you could. He responded by biting into the same place he had earlier, a bit of blood from before sticking to the corners of his mouth. With a few more rough thrusts, his teeth sinking a little bit deeper into your shoulder, he finished. And the two of you both started to relax.

After a few seconds of you both catching your breath, he pulled away, rolling to the side so that he could comfortably lay on his back next to you. It was an awkward few moments, both of you laying there in near silence, only for him to break it with, “We should probably get that bite cleaned up, huh? My bad, pet. I forget how fragile you are sometimes.”

And with that he got up, moving to gently take care of you. He cleaned up your bite mark, and helped you clean between your shaky legs with a damp washcloth. It was a whole new side of him as he helped clean you off, making sure that he hadn’t been hurt too badly. And after a few minutes, when you had been cleaned enough that you weren’t actively uncomfortable, he climbed back into bed and wordlessly pulled you into his chest.

(A/N: So... um. I'm sorry for this. This is my second smut ever and I needed to get a bit... self-indulgent so my brain would stfu.)

#karl heisenberg #lord heisenberg #heisenberg smut #re8 heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil 8 village #resident evil village x reader

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ladydimitrescuspet · 3 years

Text

It's Not Your Fault

ao3 link! I was supposed to post this almost 4 hours ago when I posted it on ao3, but I didn't get a break at work! anyway, this is the donna x reader I said I was gonna post for like the last month! sorry if it's shitty, but I hope y'all enjoy it and tell me your thoughts if you want!

warning: minor character death i.e. angie! kinda angsty, kinda comfort!

Tag List (only fill out the form once please): @lord-dimitrescu, @alwaysgoodnight, @paint-it-periwinkle, @lightspica, @ultimatebottom69, @sexyheisenbeast, @crazy-obsessed, @squid3, @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu, @the-obscurity, @sapphicalciee, @ladydimitresculove, @solemnnova, @itsyourgirlmalise, @the-little-shadow, @marvelwomen-simp, @rachelthefanfictionwriter, @d14n4ol, @peachesandlesbians, @celina1221, ｜Anna, @Gansito83, @Followingmyheartledmetoyou, @theuslesslezbian (won't tag, idk why)

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“We should garden today, Don. What do you say?” You asked your girlfriend. Donna shrugged her shoulders. “Don, we have to get you out of the house some way today. And I think planting something would be a good start.” It’d only been a week since the incident.

Donna looked at you, her lip trembling. “But An-“

You frowned slightly and cut her off. “We can plant something for Angie too. Place it near where we buried her, yeah?” You offered. She nodded her head and you smiled, albeit sadly. “Good. It’s a plan. I’ll run into the village to get some more supplies, okay?”

Donna’s eyes widened a bit. “No. N-no. Don’t leave.” Donna reached out for you, burying her face in your neck.

“I’m sorry, Donna. How about we go together?” You suggested. You’d forgotten that Donna rarely liked to be in the house by herself without Angie.

You remembered the day you found Donna on the floor of the living room with Angie lying in her arms. You’d rushed over to House Beneviento as fast as you could after you’d seen how ransacked Castle Dimitrescu had been. Your mind immediately went to Donna and while you were glad that she was okay, seeing a lifeless Angie in her arms broke you. Not as much as it did Donna, but nevertheless.

You carefully made your way over the bridge that led to the house, panting slightly as you pushed the door open. “Donna?” You called out. You walked into the house slowly, noticing the black covered figure on the floor. “Donna?” You reached out for her.

“Y/N?” Donna replied softly. She sniffled as you kneeled down on the floor beside her.

You noticed that Donna was holding Angie rather than speaking through her. “Are you okay? What happened, love?”

“I’m fine, But Angie...” She said. “Th-that man, he, he kil-“ Donna cut herself off, not wanting to finish the sentence.

You noticed the pair of bloody scissors next to Donna and noticed the gash on Angie’s head. “Oh, Don, I’m so sorry. I should’ve been here, I’m sorry.” You said into her neck as you pulled her closer to you.

You frowned at the memory. It was the same day Donna had mentioned that something big was getting ready to happen. That that was why Mother Miranda had called all of the Lords to meet at the church. And Donna had told you not to worry about it, insisting that you’d be fine to go to the Castle after your trip to the village. “Go, Y/N. You have nothing to worry about. I’ll see you when you get home from the Castle.” She’d given you that reassuring smile she always does when you worry, and you trusted it. Like the foolish person you were, you trusted your heart and not your instincts.

You shouldn’t have listened to her. She practically forced you to go to the village that afternoon even after you told her you had a feeling that something bad was going to happen. And it did, something very bad did happen. A part of you felt like you should be angry with Donna, she was the reason you weren’t there. But you should’ve stood your ground that day, you should’ve stayed and maybe if you had, Angie would still be alive. It was your fault, not Donna’s, it was all your fault.

Donna shook her head. “It’s not… your fault.” You barely heard those last two words with how softly she said them.

But it is my fault. You thought to yourself. “Is there anything I can do?” You asked.

Donna nodded her head. “I need a, um, shovel.” Donna replied. “And a… a box. For Angie.”

“Okay, we can get those things.” You said. “Should have a shovel in the garden and a box in the shed out back, right?” Donna sniffled and nodded her head again. “Why don’t we… put Angie in her room and we can set up?” You suggested.

“I don-“

You cut her off. “Donna, sweetie, listen. I know this is hard, I know it is. And if I could bring Angie back, I would. I’d give my own life to bring her back. But I can’t. I can’t do that, but what I can do is be here for you. And for Angie.” You swiped at the tears that stung your eyes. “I’m tying to be strong for you, Donny, so I need you to please cooperate with me right now. This will work smoother if Angie is in a safe place while we work.”

Donna grimaced slightly and you noticed her tighten her grip on the doll. “Can we do it tomorrow?” Donna asked.

You let out a small sigh, you were a bit frustrated, but it was her decision, so you nodded your head. “We can bury Angie tomorrow, yes. But it would be a good idea to set everything up tonight so we don’t take away from her day.” You pressed a kiss to Donna’s forehead and Angie’s.

“Y/N? Love, what’s wrong?” Donna asked softly, your face in her hands as her thumbs wiped away your tears. You stared at her in confusion. “You… you started cr-crying. And then you were, um, muttering I’m sorry over and over again.” Donna explained.

You sniffled. “I was just thinking that it’s my fault that Angie’s dead. If I hadn’t gone to the village, if I had trusted myself when I had that horrible feeling that something was going to happen. I could’ve prevented it, I could’ve kept her safe. Maybe it would’ve been me instead, you know? But at least you would still have Angie. But because I didn-“

“Stop that.” Donna said, her tone firm. “It’s not your fault. It’s his fault, not yours. I told you to go to the village that day because I knew he’d come here. I couldn’t… put you in harm’s way like that. And Angie, my precious little girl, she died protecting me. I was her until I realised that I wasn’t.” Donna explained.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Do you, um, remember what I told you that night? About how a small piece is gone now that Angie is no longer with us?” Donna asked.

You held Donna in your arms as she spoke while the two of you laid in bed. “When my father, Mother Miranda bless his soul, made Angie for me, it was possible one of the greatest gifts that I’d ever gotten. When my parents died, Angie was all I had left. And now that Angie is… gone, a small piece of me is too.”

You nodded your head at her question. “Only a few people know that Angie had a piece of the Cadou within her that connected us.” Donna continued. “And she, she cut off the connection somehow. I couldn’t find her after the first attack and when I did…” Donna trailed off.

You sniffled. “I should’ve been here.” You said. “I could’ve, I could’ve prevented it, Donna. I could’ve.”

Donna shook her head. “If you’d been here, you wouldn’t have actually been here, Y/N. I would’ve been forced to put you under hallucination. It was too risky to have you anywhere near the house and I figured you’d be safe at the castle after you were done in the village.” Donna replied. “Alcina told me that one of her daughters tried to stop you from leaving, but you didn’t listen, you just ran until you got here.”

You did remember one of the daughters, Bela, calling out your name that night. Her grabbing you as you tried to run out of the Castle to get to Donna. “Did I… did I hit her, by chance?” You grimaced when Donna nodded her head. “Oh Gods, I didn’t remember that until just now. I should go apologise.”

Donna gave you a small smile. “After the trip to the village?” Donna asked. She rubbed her hand down your arm. “We should get seeds for a sweet pea flower to plant by Angie, those were her favourite." Donna said.

You nodded your head. The trip to the village for the supplies was fairly short. When you got back home, you let Donna set everything up while you apologised to Bela over the phone, promising to do something with her sometime soon.

"Bela said hi and she, um, she sends her condolences. The whole family does." You pressed a kiis to the top of Donna's head when you reached her side. "She also said that her and her sisters made something for you."

"That's sweet of them." Donna replied softly. You hummed. "I'm glad we got the potted plants and the seeds, it looks beautiful, don't you think?" Donna asked.

You nodded your head before crouching down in front of Angie's grave. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you and Donna. Rest easy, angel." You pressed a kiss to your fingers and push them lightly against the gravestone.

Donna wrapped her arms around you, leaning into your side when you stood up. "It wasn't your fault, Y/N." Donna said, pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder.

"I know, Don, but the least I can do is apologise to her." You wrapped your arm around her waist, leading her back inside. Apologising was all you did when you visited Angie's grave. It was all you could do for her, really. It wasn't much, but it also wasn't nothing. And if it eased you to do so then Donna could accept that from you and she did.

#donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento #resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #ugh #going to extreme measures #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu's daughters #bela dimitrescu #only tagging cause they're mentioned

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infernalrevenge · 3 years

Text

All Dolled Up

Fandom: Resident Evil 8: Village

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G

Summary: Donna decides to practice talking to Reader, using a mini Reader!

Notes: Resident Evil 8 owns my ass and so do the lords. This is just some bashful Donna, inspired by headcanons by @wallflowerimagines! Check out their stuff, I love how they've characterized the lords and their reactions to crushes and relationships and the like. Here's the original post!

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And... done!

Donna closed the slot at the back of the doll's head and turned it to face her, noting all the details of her latest creation.

It had a simple uniform on: A white button down under a black vest with coattails, on its left breast was a patch of the Beneviento family crest. It was fitted with matching dark grey pants and even a pair of leather shoes for its porcelain feet.

It looked just like Y/N -- their face, their skin, their hair. It was perfect.

"Looks just like 'em, Donna!" Angie chirped, bounding up from her lap and hanging onto the side of the desk to get a better look.

Everything had to be perfect if she was going to get this plan to work, but this was just part one of... who knows how many steps. She wasn't sure exactly how long this would take, but this first step forward was better than nothing.

She set the doll gently on the desk slumped against a glass, letting out a breath as she willed the implanted Cadou to bring it to life. Angie peeked over and giggled to herself in excitement, hanging from the side to watch it all happen. Maybe when this was all done, she could have a new friend to play with too!

Soon enough, its head twitched up ever so slightly, its shining eyes trying to focus on the woman before them. They attempted to sit up straighter, their movements jerky yet slow as they tested the waters. They waved a hand in greeting, pink painted lips curling into a familiar smile.

"Good evening, Lady Beneviento!" they said, in that enthusiastic tone she knew so well. Y/N's voice wasn't quite as high pitched as the doll's, but the underlying warmth in their speech was still unmistakable.

Donna cleared her throat, giving a nod and a soft "Hello" in return.

Doll-Y/N shakily stood up on their feet, taking a few steps forward to greet the other doll. "Miss Angie, come join me up here!" They extended their hands to her, and she hoisted herself onto the wooden surface with their help. They were just about Angie's height standing up, but was now at eye level with Donna.

"Is there anything I can do for you, my lady?" they addressed the woman.

She knew it was just a title, something servants commonly called those of higher status, and she's heard Y/N say it many times, but she still couldn't help the heat rising to her cheeks at what she wished it implied.

To be someone's. To be Y/N's.

Angie was just about to respond but kept quiet with one turn of Donna's head. She made this doll to practice talking to Y/N -- the real, life-sized version of them. She wanted to spend more time with them and get used to their company. It had been so long since she tried speaking to another human being directly, almost always at a loss for words until Angie would swoop in and say what was on her mind. But she knew that with Y/N, she couldn't hide behind her forever. As much as she loved Angie and what she did for her, she also wanted to be with them as her, as Donna Beneviento. She already knew they cared for Angie like she did, and she wanted to let them know personally -- no barriers, no lies, no dolls -- how she felt.

One day, she would say everything to them. But for now, this doll should suffice.

She and Angie thought that she was used to the company of her Cadou dolls, and since she would like to get used to Y/N, then making a doll of them might help with that. Made sense, right? It wasn't ideal, but it made some sense.

She didn't quite count on how much it would be like them, though. As much as she had control over the doll, she can't control how they were when she wills it to act like them.

"If you... would like..." she started to say, almost uncertain as she glanced over at Angie. She only gave an encouraging nod in response, silently telling Donna to speak up. "You can tell me about how your day went." She did always love hearing them speak.

Doll-Y/N's face lit up, bouncing slightly on the balls of their feet and clasping their small hands behind their back. "Of course, my lady. Well, on my way to the market today, I passed a shop selling all sorts of flowers. I didn't know you could grow sunflowers around the village! Or perhaps the Duke brings them in from somewhere..."

----------

This routine went on for a few days: Donna would greet Doll-Y/N, ask about them, and they would go on about things she might already know -- hobbies they want to take up, their favorite foods and drinks, a show or movie they looked forward to watching (with her and Angie, of course), and so on. The lady would reply with some insight as well, though brief and only softly, so as to not interrupt. The doll's movements also grew smoother and more sure with every interaction, practically having Y/N's own habits and tics down pat whenever they spoke. It felt more and more like she was talking to them, the real Y/N. With every thumbs up Angie gave her after every session, it only emboldened her more. This might just work!

One day, she greeted the doll with a little more enthusiasm than usual. Y/N spent time with her and Angie at the study that evening, with her reading and them arranging some books while Angie talked to them a bit about anything they may have read recently, and new games they could play with the dolls ("And Donna", Angie threw out as a suggestion). If it weren't for her veil, Y/N would've seen how she spent most of the time watching the two people she loved converse so freely with one another, unable to help smiling at them.

Donna came back into her room practically bursting with happiness, a light "Good evening, Y/N!" escaping her as she sat down.

It seemed like Doll-Y/N noticed the positive change, so they brought up something they had in mind. "I'd like to switch things a little, if you don't mind, my lady. How was your day today?" they suggested, stepping closer to her. She suddenly grew a little shy again, hands folded neatly on Angie's lap as she kept her close.

"Oh, it was... wonderful," she replied, a smile curling on her lips.

Doll-Y/N nodded, an encouraging smile on their little face as if to tell her to continue. "I spent some of the day in the garden, watching you work for a while. Um, big you. Then I... spent the rest in the study. Also with... big you. You and Angie talked a lot about books and games." They both made such lovely company, after all. "How about you, Y/N?"

"It went by splendidly! Well, it started off just fine, with my usual chores, but after seeing you in the garden this morning I couldn't help but feel like the day's been brighter ever since," they said, taking another step forward and laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, their beaming smile ever-present.

Oh. Did they just...

She... brightened up their day? Did they really think that? Did the real Y/N think that?

"Really?" she whispered, practically sounding breathless.

"Yes. In fact, your presence alone brings more warmth and radiance than the sun ever could," they continued, their smile turning rather cheeky.

...did they just flirt with her?

Donna could feel herself sinking onto her chair, hands cupping her cheeks as if she needed to hide the raging blush underneath her cowl. Never mind that only Angie and the doll replica was here to witness it. But still! This doll looked so much like her Y/N, looking at her with those bright eyes and that charming smile and sweet look on their face and--

Did she just call them "her Y/N"?

Downstairs, Y/N heard a faint squeal and thud from the other side of the manor, setting down the dish they were washing and hurrying to the lady's room.

They knocked a little frantically, speaking through the door. "Lady Beneviento, is everything alright?"

It was Angie who answered, opening up just a crack so they wouldn't see the situation behind her.

"Hey Y/N! Everything's fine, Donna just, uh, she just dropped something and was caught off-guard is all." She seemed nervous, her eyes shifting a little and barely looking at them.

"Oh, but does Lady Beneviento need help? Did she get hurt or--"

"Nope, no! Don't worry about it, we've got it covered, I promise! Now shoo, off you go!" She waved an arm out to get them to turn around before shutting the door, leaving the somewhat concerned but even more confused servant in the hall.

Donna lifted her head up from her hands, Doll-Y/N now lying lifeless on the wooden floor. Luckily, nothing seemed to have cracked on them when she suddenly relinquished control in her embarrassment. She picked them up and gingerly leaned them against a glass on the working desk, just staring into their eyes as she tried to get her heart beat back to a normal level. Even calling them "hers" in the safety of her own thoughts was enough to fluster the poor woman. If she could see her face right now, it would undoubtedly be as red as a tomato.

Was that something Y/N would even actually say? Was her mind playing tricks on her, her feelings betraying only what she wanted to hear from them? How was she supposed to handle it if they did say that?

"I think that's enough excitement for one day," Angie commented, looking between the mostly frozen Donna and Doll-Y/N. The lady could only nod in agreement.

The next day, Donna stayed in her room, not wishing to be disturbed.

It wasn't unusual for Y/N to not hear much from Lady Beneviento and instead have Angie deliver messages and orders on her behalf, but even her personal mouthpiece seemed to want to avoid them. She just kind of... watched them mindlessly on the couch while they swept the living room. What happened last night?

"Miss Angie, is everything--"

"Please just shut up and clean the carpet."

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #lady beneviento #lady beneviento x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #re8

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sealed-family · 2 years

Text

Looking Into the Past and Walking Into the Present

Hollow stands before the Mantis Lords once again, having just agreed to their terms for trading. They feel good, they feel great. Look how far they’ve come in rebuilding everything. The Mantis Tribe is finally recognized as its own people, as its own culture, and has severed the ties it held with Fungal Wastes, and, by extension, Hallownest. Deepnest has become its own land, too. Discussions with Hornet and Herrah went much smoother than they did with the Mantis Lords, although that’s because Hornet is their little sister.

Thank you for your patience and cooperation as we figured this all out. Hollow signs to them, and Dreja nods.

“It was nice for the Leader of Hallownest to listen to us, for once.” She tells them. “We recognize that you are young when compared to us, or The Beast, or even The King. Please, do not be afraid to come to us for advice.”

I will, thank you, again. And thank you for telling me what you know of my sibling during their time here during the Infection. Hollow thanks them again. I will take my leave. We shall be in touch?

”That we shall.” Xenia agrees, and Hollow leaves the Mantis Tribe.

They wander through the Fungal Wastes, nodding and waving to the different fungal creatures as they pass. It still feels strange, being able to walk around and explore their Kingdom. So much of their childhood was spent inside the Palace or with one of the Knights, they never had the ability to see and meet the people that they were being raised to save.

It’s almost sad, how desperate their father was. Now that their anger at him, at their mother, at everything surrounding their escape from the Abyss and Void they were born into, has simmered and reduced, they feel differently. The vehement hatred for their parents is replaced with distant apathy and some level of understanding for the Pale King.

Was everything that happened horrible and unfair? Yes, undoubtedly. They still struggle with emotional repression and not talking about anything and just . . . everything. But, looking back at the few moments the Pale King and Hollow had together? They treasure those. Every glance down at them, with a look of pride. Every time his claws ghosted over their shell. The nights when Hollow would pass by his office and see his head buried in his hands, covered in ink. They get it, desperate times call for desperate measures. Those desperate measures still hurt, no matter the intentions.

Hollow pets the Uoma and Ooma as they pass through Fog Canyon. The Archives have been overgrown for years, but the creatures that came from it live and thrive here. It’s beautiful in an ethereal sort of way.

Monomon and her research partner Quirrel. Hollow met them once, in one of the rare instances that the Pale King took them on trips outside the Palace.

They never talked to Monomon, she was too busy talking to their father about Dreamer things to really have much of a discussion. Quirrel talked to them a little, mostly just inane ramblings about the latest research project he had. They wonder what happened to him after they were sealed in the Temple. They hope he’s doing okay.

Greenpath. The place that Hornet made her home when Deepnest fell to the Infection. The greenery is bright and lively now that Unn’s influence is growing again. The mosskin are growing back to their former glory, or, at least, the one that Hollow read about. Everything is doing so much better now. It feels good to finally do good to the people they were created to protect.

. . .

They’re going to come back to that thought later, when they have time to consider the implications of that.

The Croasroads are busy with travelers and merchants moving around. They remember walking past the crowds of people on their sealing day, all the bugs looking up at them with so much hope and fear and loss and longing. This is what they’re here to protect and grow. This livelihood and noise that fills the tunnels and streets, this is what they live for.

Hollow gets up to Dirtmouth, the place they call home. Elderbug is over in the cemetery, probably talking to the grave of his friend. They can hear someone in Cornifer and Iselda’s store, and the mumbling of Zote in Bretta’s home. And there, on the iron bench in the middle of the slowly growing town, is Ghost.

Hollow sits down next to them, looking out at the endless grey that surrounds Dirtmouth.

I . . . I want to show you something. Ghost signs. Tomorrow, if you can.

Hollow moves their arm around their sibling, pulling them close. Of course, Ghost. They sign back. Ghost leans their shell onto Hollow, letting their eyes fall shut, and Hollow keeps them close.

#sealed family #sealed family au #sealed fam #sealed family writings #hollow knight #the hollow knight #little ghost #the mantis lords #monomon the teacher #quirrel #ghost hollow knight #fungal wastes #fog canyon #greenpath #dirtmouth

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lananiscorner · 2 years

Text

Rating FE3H male class designs using Dimitri (and his tiny waist) - Part 2 - Intermediate classes

I’ve had Thoughts™ on the different class designs for a long while and Dimitri’s tiny waist is as good an excuse as any to look at them, so let’s go. Putting the rest beneath the cut, because long post is long.

Archer

4/5. Archers, by virtue of being ranged fighters, don’t need much armor, so I won’t critique the lack of plating here. This is actually really well-balanced in terms of color and patterns, even if it uses that ugly brown again. I think it’s the white trims that save this one. Dimitri looks resigned to a life of hunger. Thin boy is thin (and yet those thighs could probably still squash a grown man’s head like a grape).

Armored Knight

2/5. Om nom nom nom nom nom. Dimitri took “you need more iron in your diet” too literal and is now nibbling on this atrocity’s collar. Seriouly though, you take one fall in this getup and you probably break a tooth or two. On the bright side, we finally have proper armor on the armor and it’s even convex in the front (which helps warding off blows). I would like this one a lot if it wasn’t for the dental bill in waiting.

Brawler

3/5. I wanna hate this one, because some part of me just screams UGLY at this get-up, and yet it also kind of works? It’s weird. It feels like Fire Emblem looked at Final Fantasy and went “hey, I know what we need to be just as popular! BELTS! Lots of belts! If it works for FF it will work for FE!” That said, I’m not gonna say no to a half bare-chested Dimitri and I appreciate this costume using a nicer shade of brown.

Brigand

3/5. This is what happens when fragile masculinity interferes with the need to dress appropriately for the weather. I mean, really? Just had to ditch the sleeves to show off your biceps? Alright. This one only stays in mid range thanks to its nice color balance to offset the lack of good judgment.

Cavalier

4/5. No pre-time skip picture this time, because I forgot to take one. Sorry. This one has a decent amount of armor coverage for both horse and rider and is just all around pleasant to look at, even if it’s a little bland. Speaking of ‘bland’, Dimitri please eat something--your waist is only two horse ears wide.

Dark Mage

5/5. Why, I...hello mister, how are you tonight? This outfit is SLICK. Simple, elegant, and smoother than Sylvain’s guilty conscience. Dimitri has achieved peak thinness. Who even needs organs?

Lord

5/5. Finally some vibrant, saturated colors! Loog would be proud. I’m not even gonna critique the weird armor placement this time, since the colors just look so good. Dimitri finally had a meal after he ditched the Dark Mage outfit.

Mage

1/5. This is a potato sack dyed blue. Moving on.

Mercenary

2/5. I am not sure I would hire somebody who has such questionable armor placement choices. Yes, please, let’s put *everything* in armor *except* for your center of mass, that will work out great. /s Maybe that’s why he looks like he hasn’t eaten for days?

Priest

4/5. I... actually really like this one. It very clearly says “healer”, it looks elegant, since you’re not supposed to fight on the front lines, it doesn’t need much armor either, plus it’s apparently comfy enough to accomodate another set of clothes underneath (which makes post time skip Dimitri’s waist look even more alarming, because if it’s that narrow after two layers of clothing, you really want him to have a meal).

Thief

4/5. Thieves are supposed to be quick and stealthy. Armor is bulky and loud, so I will forgive the lack of protection here. I low key dig the fur collar. Post time skip Dimitri somehow looks better in this than pre time skip Dimitri and I don’t know why.

#Fire Emblem: Three Houses #FE3H #FE3H class designs #Intermediate designs are a mixed bag #the clear winner here is Lord

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speechlessxx · 4 years

Text

Bring Him Light - Prologue (King!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The Princess of York is to be sent away to marry the Brooken King.

Warnings: Steve’s not in this chapter. Patriarchy. Tony’s not winning father of the year. Possible Dark Themes (in the future).

Word Count: 1.8k

This was gonna be longer, but I wanted y’alls opinion before I went ahead and made this a series.

Hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what y’all think.

Bring Him Light Masterlist

(The gif isn’t mine and it’s kinkier than i wanted it to be sorry... no bondage in this one)

Next Part ->

The coarse ropes dug into your skin as you twisted and turned your wrists in hopes to loosen the knot. You were sure they’d leave marks. You bit your lip to suppress the pained whimper that threatened to escape but paid no attention to the tears that rolled down your cheeks. It wasn’t as if your captor would’ve seen. The burlap sack over your head made sure of that.

Every time the cart jostled due to the uneven roads, you felt the crops – your travel companions as it seemed – roll around, often smacking against you. You tried to reach backwards with your bound wrists, searching for an arrow in your quiver. But it seemed as if your captor had rid you of them.

You felt the dirt on your skin. It was all over your legs and feet – you had forgone your shoes, the heels would’ve made your escape twice as difficult. The earth had settled itself into your pores and between your toes, leaving an uncomfortable feeling that made you cringe.

As the ride became smoother, you knew you were closer to the castle. You stopped fumbling with your bound wrists and rested your head against the back of the cart in defeat. There was no use in trying to escape. You lost your chance. No one would let you go now.

Soon the cart had stopped altogether and the rider – your captor – had retrieved you, carrying you in his arms. You were exhausted. All the fight in you had been extinguished in your attempt to flee. It had been at least two days since you’ve last eaten. You couldn’t even remember if you gave yourself an opportunity to fall asleep.

“Your majesty!” The man carrying you bellowed out as you heard doors open. “I’ve brought you a gift.” The man had put you down and though you couldn’t find the strength to stand, you tried your best to steady yourself. The bag had been removed from your head – you were sure your hair was a mess – but you kept your glare as you stood your ground. The man handed the king a broken piece of wood and you felt your stomach drop in realization. “I’ve broken her bow. My apologies.”

“Thank you, Thor,” the king nodded. His face was expressionless as he stared you down. “I’ll be sure to pay you well, huntsman, for bringing back my daughter.”

The huntsman grunted in response before he bowed. He left the throne room without another word. The councilmen stood beside your father, whispering to one another as they all took in your state.

Dirt pressed into your skin. The dress you wore was days old and torn from your tussle with the huntsman. Your hair – which was normally so clean and plaited elegantly – was in shambles and stood up in various spots. Your wrists were bound together, and a skinny strand of blood trickled down your arms due to the tight knot. If the men didn’t know any better, you looked like a common peasant – not a princess.

Your face was flushed as your rage boiled inside you. Your father quipped up an eyebrow as if expecting you to scream – to shout and curse at him – but all you did was glare in silence. And if looks could kill, he’d be dead three times over.

“You,” your father finally said as he narrowed his eyes, “sent the castle into a frenzy looking for you.” He walked towards you, disappointment and exhaustion written on his face. “That was incredibly reckless.”

“Little girls tend to be so, your grace,” one of the councilmen chided. The others at his side chuckled. “Which is why they become pretty accessories, not rulers.”

“They say men who are well endowed give their wives sons. I wonder, my lord, why you and your wife only have daughters,” you snapped. The chuckling immediately stopped.

The noble glared at you. He pointed his finger at you and yelled, “you little – “before being interrupted by a woman’s voice.

“My love, is it true–“ the throne room doors opened and you carefully turned to see your mother. Her smile quickly faded the moment she saw your condition – the tattered dress, dirty feet, messy hair, arms bound. A frown settled on her beautiful face before she dismissed her ladies. “Leave us,” she ordered. Her ladies rushed away, but the councilmen stayed. Your mother scowled at the men. “I said leave us.”

“Your grace,” they murmured. “Your highness,” they bowed to you. The man you insulted moments ago gave you one last glare before following the others.

“My sweet girl,” your mother sighed, rushing towards you. She cupped your face in her hands and wiped some of the grime from your cheeks. She tutted before grabbing your wrists. She winced when she saw the blood and the reddening skin underneath the tight knot. “I thought you told Thor to be gentle, Anthony.”

“I told him to do whatever was necessary,” your father shrugged, “to ensure our daughter’s safe return.”

Your mother scoffed as she tried to unravel the rope, but it wouldn’t budge. “She is a princess, and you paraded her in front of the nobles as if she’s some prisoner, tied up like an animal.”

“If she only acted like a princess, then none of this would be necessary,” your father rebutted.

“If you hadn’t sold me like a broodmare, then I wouldn’t have run!” You shot back. You pulled you away from your mother to walk towards your father, pointing a finger at him with your wrists still bound together. “I won’t go through with this. I swear it! I will not marry him!”

Your father curled his lip and he slapped your hand away from him. “You will because it is your duty!” he snapped. “A marriage alliance will unite the two great nations of the north! No one will ever dare go to war on the northern kingdoms – not when we stand together.”

“You were at war with him nearly three years ago!” You argued. “If you want an alliance, draw up a treaty! Better yet, ask the Brooken king to meet you for supper!” You felt tears prick in your eyes. You were frustrated and angry. You didn’t like to argue with your father. “He’ll kill me.”

“Then we will have another war.”

“At the cost of my life!”

“Tony, stop it,” your mother chirped. Her hands found your shoulders as she tried to calm your anger.

“Tell him no, mother, please.” If anyone could get through to your stubborn father and talk some sense into him, it would be your mother. You prayed that she’d be on your side – that she wouldn’t send off her eldest daughter to another kingdom just to be an accessory to a prideful king. She averted her eyes from you to look back at your father. “This isn’t a lesson you’re sending me off to. This is the rest of my life. I’ll be some man’s breeder. I’ll be his whore by law and if I try to run, he can kill me.”

“Then, don’t run,” your father sighed. He walked over to you and pulled a blade from his cloak. Your mother gave him a startled look and he responded with a shrug as if to say you never know when you need it. He carefully sawed through the knot, releasing you from your bindings. “This is for your own good. This is for the good of the two kingdoms.”

“if you need a treaty so badly, then send a bloody diplomat!” You screamed and rubbed at the wounded skin. “Why send a bride?”

“He needs a queen he can trust,” your father said.

“You’re condemning me to a loveless marriage!”

“That is not written in stone,” your mother reasoned. She reached for your father and he took her hand. You watched as their fingers intertwined.

“Your bond is different. He’s a different man than father.”

“If York falls, Brooken follows… But not if we stand together. Do you not understand the threat we are all under?” Your father frowned. “The Mad King Thanos is overthrowing monarch after monarch. His empire steadily grows and I’m afraid if we do not unite the north, then we will all perish. Think of your little brother, Harvey. If I die at the hands of Thanos, he’s too young to lead a kingdom – to lead our men into war and win it. Think of baby Morgan. Your little sister brought into the world only months ago. If Thanos comes tomorrow, do you think he’ll have mercy on her? I can assure you that he won’t. He’s killed men, women, and children alike. He’ll kill her without hesitation.

“Please, my daughter, my eldest. If you will not do this for me – for your country, do it for them.”

“If I die, my blood is not on his hands. It will be on yours.” You spat. “How will you live knowing that you’ve condemned your eldest child to her death?”

Your father sighed. There was no use in arguing anymore. You got your stubbornness from the Stark blood that flowed through your veins.

“Your things have been packed and loaded into a carriage. Your ladies have already begun their journey. You leave at nightfall.” Your father nodded with clenched teeth. He gave you one last look. “King Steven is eager to meet you.”

»»————-　⚜　————-««

King Steven was said to love art. They say he often painted in the courtyard or in the gardens. He collected paintings and sculptures. He’s fond of decorations, they tell you. His favorite decorum was said to be the corpses of his enemies, strung up along the castle walls. A reminder to those who wished for his demise and those who plotted against him that he was and would always be victorious.

He was said to be cruel. You heard stories that he was a ruthless killer on the battlefield – that he wouldn’t stop slashing at his foe until his sword and armor were coated in their blood. You were told he never smiled and from the portraits you’ve seen of the man, it seemed to be true. He was handsome in the pictures you’ve seen. Short blonde hair, strong jaw, blue eyes. But looks could only compensate for so much.

He was married twice before. Queen Margaret and Queen Sharon. Both from the now extinct House Carter. Both queens died before they could give King Steven a child – a son.

You didn’t know the circumstances of their deaths, but some say the king was cursed. How unfortunate and unlucky does a man have to be to lose both his wives? But others have told you a different story. A story that was far more twisted and frightening.

Others claim that King Steven killed his queens.

The servants couldn’t blame you when you snuck away, bow and quiver full of arrows in hand. They even covered for you when you left through the kitchen’s exit.

But they were just rumors… How true could they be?

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #king steve #king steve rogers #dad tony stark #king tony stark #avengers medieval #medieval au #imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #bring him light

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thevoilinauttheory · 3 years

Text

The Great Eight

[ In lieu of the Rising event ending tomorrow - and myself, just now finishing it - I had some words I wanted to get out.

I get this type of nostalgia - it hurts, it physically hurts my chest; I feel sick to my stomach, and I just want to cry. I’ve asked others if they ever feel this way, but I’ve never gotten a yes to it.

The Rising always gives me this feeling. It’s be eight years since I first picked up XIV. Eight whole years. That’s a slap to the face, it’s been so long and it feels so short. I wish I could give people the same experiences and feeling I had for this game - the pain and happiness this nostalgia brings me. When I say this game means so much to me, it’s not an exaggeration. This game changed my life - I wish to share it a little bit with you. I touched on some of it in the past, but here I’m laying it all out. ]

[ I first started playing in 2013, when a friend recommended the game to me shortly after the game’s rerelease. They were ecstatic to have another player join them, and I owe them a lot for the experiences they gave me. My very first character was Raramlah Ramlah - she was a paladin, because that’s what I mained in WoW. I realized shortly that a tank probably wasn’t the best way to go, but also that my computer at the time couldn’t handle playing it, due to the graphics.

I gave it another shot in 2014, that’s when I made Danny Harold. He was the first character I ever got to level 50. I absolutely loved the game, when I wasn’t sitting idly for my friends to come online as I had with Raramlah; when I picked it up of my own accord. I remember I was in the hospital when I first picked it back up, when I first made him and leveled him through Gridania. But I was still going intermittedly between it and WoW. I missed the first Rising due to ignorance.

2015 comes around, and I’m in a stressful place. I just started a new job, and I’m finally able to live on my own with little issues from my disabilites. However, my apartment complex didn’t have internet, and so I’d take my laptop to Starbucks and sit there until they closed playing WoW instead. I wanted to spend what little time I had on the internet with the friends I already had grown close to. Year 2 went on without me. But it still wasn’t all bad. Near the end of 2015, Maximiloix Voilinaut was created - and when I started up my XIV tumblr account under “ishgardianscholar”. See, I had made it to Heavensward on Danny when I found out that someone I had met through a friend was starting up a new character for the purpose of RP. I thought to myself “I want an Ishgardian character” - and rolled a new one. It was a new adventure, a clean slate, with a couple of friends I knew from WoW to join me.

Here comes 2016... and WoW had let me down. My disabilites came back full force, and I was left bed bound and reliant on partial disability from my workplace while waiting for SSDI to start kicking into effect. My roommates did little to help take care of the house we were renting, lied to me about their incomes, and forced me to use what little money I was getting to pay for everything myself. I’m short a total of 2000$ because of it. But. But. That was the best year of my fucking life. It ruined me, that year ruined my life, but it was the happiest I had ever been. Lothaire Voilinaut was first conceived and Maximiloix became my pride and joy as a character, I found the class I wanted to keep playing - I made friends, so many of them! So, so many of them! And I loved them, and I still do! I miss them terribly. If I could relive one year of my life... it would be that year. What I would give just to feel that way again - because I had never felt it since. I didn’t realize until Year 3′s Rising came around, how nostalgic just the few short times and experiences were to me. Because I was met with two things... the first song that truly captured me in Final Fantasy games (Prelude), and the first song I ever heard in the game itself (A New Hope). I cried there. Music has always hit me so hard, and I never realized just how much this game meant to me until then. This was how I knew I would stay - that XIV had my heart for good.

2017, during the release of Stormblood, I went homeless. I had wanted so badly to see my first expansion release - and only witnessed second hand “Raubahn EX”. My friends moved on without me, and I was left alone again to start playing. But I told myself already. XIV had my heart, there was no reason to go back to WoW. So I didn’t. I didn’t, and I don’t regret it. This is when I truly started playing Lothaire fully - and when I met my spouse, he became my main. I made it to Year 4, and cried just as much.

2018 - with the loss of friends, did I find new ones. It wasn’t the best time of my life, but I wouldn’t trade the memories for a thing. Year 5 came and went faster than I could blink, but that was it. I heard the music, I remembered my first Rising, I remembered all the times I had before. And I cried.

2019 started off rough. I moved across the country and had a hard time finding a place to live. I got it down, started a new job... and made it to the release of Shadowbringers. I had grown so much since I first started - and the expansion release was everything I wanted it to be, regardless of the issues that came with it (though I’ve been told that it was a far smoother release than the others). I was so excited... and I was not let down. XIV upheld its standards and presented to me a game worthy of pushing onto my friends no matter how annoyed they got with me about it (looking at you @rose-color-boy). Everything about it was a pure masterpiece, people think I’m exaggerating. But this game had done so much for me, that finally, now, I got to witness something I always wanted to. Sure, I didn’t have many friends to start the expansion with... but the story captivated me immediately. Year 6... and I cried.

2020. There wasn’t much to say about it, I was stuck inside all year and I hit a bad patch during the end of it, but... Year 7. It hit me like a truck. It gave me goosebumps, it gave me laughs, and ultimately, it gave me tears. I actually sobbed, this time. Remembering everything I gone through hurt me so badly, the nostalgia was coming in hard. But I knew, in the end, this game would always be here for me. This game had wormed its way into my heart accidentally, and yet I feel like I couldn’t live without it.

This year. Perhaps it didn’t hit me as hard - I still cried. This game means so much to me. So, so much. It hurts, it really and physically hurts how much it means to me. This game made everything in my stressful life so much easier, littered the pain with good memories. I can recall bad places I was in, and associate it with something good that happened to me in the game. 2020 - I got knee surgery... but 5.3 had just released and holy shit. My spouse got a little annoyed at me that the only thing I was listening to was the theme of that last battle (To the Edge). It helped me get through it, the pain and the misery I felt from not being able to walk. 2019 - Work was driving my depression in deep, and I didn’t want to live and continue the pain I was feeling... but I got to the end of 5.0 and only wanted more. I wanted to know what happened next. I still remember that one cutscene, how they got me attached to a minor character so quickly and ripped her away just as fast; and the first dungeon? Experiencing the Trust System, and going through this intense battle on a grand scale with the help of the friends they kept on the sidelines for so long. 2018 - My life was monotonous and I had three other people living with me in my one-bedroom apartment. One of my roommate’s ex’s was now stalking him around my apartment, and work was becoming physically taxing on my legs. But I remember how much fun I had doing maps - and the release of the Tsukuyomi fight? That whole scene there? Oh, wow, it was so bittersweet. The fight was beautiful, the music was haunting, everything about it. Not to mention the ending solo-instances and Ghymlit? The Burn? Omega? The Four Lords? As much as I disliked them (due to my computer issues), even Rabanastre was memorable. 2017 - I was homeless, forced to work a job my body couldn’t handle. I met my spouse, though. I became heavily invested with my tumblr account, doing a full re-write of it all. While I wasn’t much of a fan of the expansion itself, there were some places that really opened my eyes. Azim Steppes? So beautiful - and gotta hand Y’shtola the award for sickest burn. Then I heard my favorite piece of music, and the most nostalgic for me when it comes to SB, Skalla’s theme (Far From Home).

Lastly, I know this has been long. But I thank everyone around me for being so supportive and kind - I may not be in a good place, but know that every good thing that happens will be associated to this moment. I’ll look back on Year 8 and go “my security was compromised, and my anxiety ran high, but there were these people here who supported me on tumblr, that kept my blog running strong”. I will remember my roleplays, I will remember the music and scenery - even now, I’m getting nostalgic about Shadowbringers, and Endwalker hasn’t even come out yet! So thank you. Here’s to year number 8 - 8 whole years of XIV being in my life. It may not have been that long for many of you, some of you, this might be your first year; hell! Some of you, it’s been longer! But know that this community has helped me so much, and I can’t wait to continue being a part of it. Here’s to the eventual tears Year 9 will bring me! ]

#ooc #ffxiv #the rising #sorry for the long post #but there were so many feelings i had to get out before i wrote my prompt #tl;dr #i love you all and thank you for making my experiences with this game the best thing to ever happen to me #thank you for making this game mean so much to me

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ratabrasileira · 3 years

Text

Him and Her and Nothing Else

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Sarah J. Maas.

Summary: When Helion found a young beautiful lady whose hair was like fire, he could not take his eyes from her.

That year's Equinox Ball was spectacular; Faeries laughed and talked so much that it echoed throughout the Summer Court. Some couples danced in the center of the palace while human servants (the most beautiful that the Summer Court held) passed carrying trays and trays, full of drinks and typical spring foods. The servants did their best not to be noticed when they passed between the tables.

Tables which, in one of them, was a beautiful and young lady. Her fiery hair contrasted strongly with the blue and green tones of summer, his white skin, like porcelain, seemed to reflect the golden tones of sunlight that hovered over the place. Helion was intoxicated by her beauty, to take his eyes off her would be the same as committing an unfaithful and even sinful act. So, since the beautiful lady had set foot in the palace, Helion had not been distracted by anything else.

The afternoon went on, the dance floor becoming fuller as drinks and food became useless. The moon was beginning to break when Helion finally found herself exchanging glances with the red-haired female who, now in the night darkness, seemed to have come to life. The young woman's russet eyes called to him, invoked him. That female, Helion realized, had woken up something deep and hungry, very hungry, which lay in the deepest core of his soul.

The moon was now over them. During this period, hands and eyes were in contact, but none of them took the trouble to take the first step, whether out of cowardice or pride. However, if Helion was sincere with himself, he didn't care. In fact, he even liked it. If she wanted to play ... Well, then make him a worthy opponent. Let the desire consume him completely, let the craving make him crazy, dirty, immoral.

She was not stupid; she had noticed since she arrived at the Summer Court the warm look that the beautiful faerie fixed on her person. By the edges of the Cauldron, he was divine. His short hair was as dark as a starless night, his brown skin seemed to emanate from the sun's rays as well as his gaze ... She did her best not to match those flames that invoked her into his arms.

But by the end of the afternoon, she had already burned herself in those eyes that eroded all her skin.

And it was for the last bump of hands that she found herself driving between pillars until she reached the ground level of the beach, where at the end was a pier, latter happily filled with ships and barges. She knew that he had followed her. She felt all of his attention on her person, on her ass ... Well, she really had something to show, anyways, and she even liked it. No other males. Other males she thought it to be dirty, disgusting; despicable. But, gods, when he looked at her like that there was no morality whatsoever that would make her be the good girl she was. When he looked at her like that it was just her and him and nothing else.

She entered a barge that appeared to be empty, adrenaline rushing through her vein like a shooting star through the sky. Both seemed to be so desperate to touch each other that they barely noticed the boldness of what they were doing. Helion, however, didn't care at all. All her attention was on her, on her ass that rolled gently with every calculated step, in the long curly hair that fluttered over her back. For the Mother, he was dying to touch them, smell them.

When he found himself, he was inside a partially empty room. It looked abandoned. Helion could have stuck looking around if it weren't for the russet gleam in her eyes, cutting off all the bonds that held them back. Clothes were thrown on the floor when, without saying a word, his mouths intertwined and formed a dance that pulsed throughout his body in a single rhythm. That the Cauldron boils him, that was divine. The heat of her small body against his, her smell of roasting chestnuts and crackling fires, her hair tangled in his fingers and the sounds that came out of the back of her throat. It all made him crazy. Maybe he was indeed going crazy.

"Wait." It was breathless and hurried along with a groan. Even so, Helion could hear the essence of her voice: sweet and delicate, prettier than many songs. He pulled away enough to watch her countenance, her eyes. Eyes that were no longer on his. She had looked away, the shyness now consuming her.

"I never ..." Helion uselessly waited for her to finish. Not that it was necessary, as he understood exactly what she meant.

"Do you want?" The thick voice boomed for her whole being. Yes, she did, but she was afraid. Not because of the location or even of him, in fact she was already experienced in some things, she knew what was waiting for her. But what would her situation be if she was promised to another male? Still, what she felt for this fae in front of her was unique; never in her life had she felt this way, especially for someone who had only communicated with glances.

Slowly, she looked back at him. If through glances is how they talk, let it show what she wanted.

And he realized precisely what she wanted.

***

A few months had passed since she last heard of Helion, heir of the Day Court and ... Her first time. That night, after both were ecstatic, the two spent hours and hours talking about everything and nothing. There was a connection with him so unexpected and intense that it was impossible not to remember how full and happy she had felt with him, as if she had met herself. She even dared to wonder if he was her mate.

Now she was in her room waiting for bedtime and practicing the crochet that her mother insisted she to learn. As if crochet could prepare her for the war. Perhaps she would use one of the needles to pluck the enemy's eye. The thought made her laugh with scorn, even though her stomach had been twisting.

The war, fortunately, had not broken out, but she knew that something was to come, either in a few years or in a few decades. The Loyalists, those who defended slavery, were feeling increasingly threatened by the abolitionist movement that some courts in Prythian as well as some territories on the continent were in favor.

The Autumn Court, however, had not released the slaves who served there. She wisely was not content with that; she had seen the happiness of some humans who heard news that the Solar Courts had freed their servants, the desire shone in the eyes of those dark creatures. She wanted to have the power to deliver them. She wanted to have the power to make the world a just and peaceful place.

A knock took her out of her reverie. She tried to locate where the noise had come from, but nothing inside her room seemed out of the ordinary. It was then that she heard it again. It came from the window, which had her full attention. This time she got to see. It was a stone, or at least it looked like one, except the fact that when it hit somewhere it shone. It shone like him ...

She ran to open the window. If it were really him ... Gods, she would jump from the window’s height to receive him.

But Helion's tall, dark figure was nowhere to be found. In fact, there was no one in the gardens. A weight settled on her chest. She felt stupid and silly; how would someone from another court find out where she lived? Who was she for Prythian, besides the youngest daughter of a noble family at the Autumn Court? Plus, what if everything she felt that night was not reciprocal, but something that only she felt as an emotional female. For Helion, perhaps, that moment meant nothing.

Disappointed, she stepped out of the window to brood for the rest of the night, but from her peripheral vision she saw something sparkle between logs and bushes that made her halt. The glow was the same golden that the stone had gleamed. This time, however, she just watched the spot where something had blinked, she waited for the second signal.

And it was as if it had read her thoughts, because in a few seconds she was already running on the autumn grass, ready to receive her beloved.

Helion wouldn't admit it, but he was nervous to meet the beautiful lady with the fiery hair. They had long ago met, what if she hadn't found anything special that night? What if all the feelings in her russet eyes were just a prank in his mind? What if she hadn't received a signal from him and he was waiting for her there, on the cold autumn night, alone? However, when faced with the barefoot and disheveled figure in front of him, he forgot all of the concerns. Whatever if he was in a court that defended slavery? At that moment it was just him and her and nothing else.

"How?" She gasped. Even if messed up, she was still beautiful, marvelous.

“Come on, Sunshine. A courteous man never says his means.” He replied, giving her one of his best smiles. A smile that made her lose all the air in her lungs, not that there was any air in there anyway.

"As long as no one died for that, I'm happy, in fact." She returned his smile and Helion was sure that the world had stopped.

It was him and her and nothing else.

***

Three months had passed since the last time she had seen Helion. That night they intertwined in a different way, there was something intimate and affectionate there, not that her first time was not, but that night in the forest the sex was less ... fiery, but still, more ardent than the fire that crackled under her skin. Fire which some yearned to tame, a matter now discussed by her and her sisters.

"I heard mom talk to dad that maybe the High Lord will choose you!" Her older sister squeaked. Apart from the eyes and the nose, the two were very similar. Both had their mother's red, curly hair, although her sister's was slightly smoother.

“Gods, the High Lord! When did you hear that?” His other sister, younger than the other, questioned. Among the three, she had taken after her father; wavy brown hair, gentle eyes and a thin mouth that now displayed a mischievous smile.

“Last night, when I was going to bed. I accidentally caught part of the conversation.” A half-timid smile opened, although there was pride hidden there. "Anyway, if the High Lord really wants you, sister, you should prepare yourself, especially to train your resistance for the wedding." More boring ceremony seemed to have been added quietly.

Wedding. Since she was a child, she was prepared among with her sisters to be chosen by an important High Fae. This was how things worked in some Prythian courts: females were chosen by some important male in order to be able to reproduce the lineage. The more powerful, the better. Case of the three sisters. The older two, for the happiness of the parents, had already married, leaving only she, single and with the probability of a High Lord asking for her hand in marriage.

Her thoughts unconsciously turned to Helion. They had exchanged a way of communicating other than by glowing stones or bribes to find each other's homes. Now they spoke for a spell that Helion had mastered and taught her. Simple and practical: just write something on any piece of paper and he would be notified by the magic of the mind, he said, and the person would have the choice of accepting the note or not. She thought it was great, although she couldn't quite understand how the magic of the mind worked. It was simply a tug that seemed to come from the core of her brain, it was like some type of instinct.

"I don't know if I want to marry him." The question was said weakly.

"What?" Her sisters exclaimed in unison. The three knew there was no choice.

"I ..." She took a deep breath. "I met someone and he is ... perfect."

When she saw the sisters' arched eyebrows, she was sure that she had said something wrong, but now it was too late, she then proceeded to explain about him.

She talked about how they had met. About how his swagger and looks had won her over. About how beautiful and profound that night on the barge had been for both of them. About how, with a few words, the two could understand each other as equals; one soul in different bodies. About how the smiles he kept for her made her forget everything else. About when they were together it was just her and him and nothing else.

However, when finished she did not expect a silly look from her older sister, let alone an incredulous look from her middle sister.

"Sister, do you think this Helion could be your ... Mate?" As always, the older sister had come straight to the point. There was no fooling around with her. Maybe that's why it had always been easier for her.

“No, we cannot think that way. Be logical and stop thinking with your heart” The other sister answered. "If all my passions were my mate, I would have several!"

"But what we have ... I don't know, I don't know how the bond works, I just know that ... If I accept Beron's request. That is, if he proposes something to me–.” The two rushed to assert that there would be a request. "Okay, but ... What am I going to do with Helion? Mother above, how will the High Lord deal with the fact that I am no longer a virgin !?”

"Sister, when the High Lord comes to propose you will have to forget-"

"But what if he really is my mate?!"

The three fell silent before the proposition. It was the oldest who broke the silence:

"Do you love him?"

Do you love him? Was it possible for someone to love another person knowing so little about him? Was it possible that only in two meetings and some (many) exchanged letters such a deep and beautiful feeling grown up there? Deep and beautiful like the conversations they had in person.

"What if I do?"

Notes: I'm willing to make this a long fic which shows a little about Helion x Lady A relationship, but eeww it'll be hard to not make something ambiguous (sjm pls give me Lady. A's name)

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar fanfic #helion's fic #helion x lady of autumn #my writing #helion #lady of the autumn court #my fic

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

Text

Adversity - 13-A

Fanfic update

I’ve decided to utilize this tumblr space to put in WIPs/partial chapters/unedited stories from my end. Then I’ll post it somewhere in Ao3 or FF.net. Maybe.

In the meantime, here’s an installment of Adversity (the chapters here in tumblr aren’t updated – it would make much more sense if you check it out on Ao3 first before coming back here). In essence this is part of Chapter 13.

Keen to hear what you think about this portion :)

Adversity details

Multi-chapter, work in progress, AU, pre-LoK,

Latest status: up to Chapter 12 uploaded in A03

Blurb: Lin and Tenzin are both at the height of their respective careers – she with the Metalbending Police and he with the Air Nation. Questions about their future begin to arise and things come to a head when Lin responded to an emergency call. Would her job take them from each other forever? Eventual happy ending. Alternatively: The one where Lin and Tenzin had to go through adversity like Lin’s dangerous job, a near-death experience, temporary separation and memory loss, unplanned pregnancy and Tenzin’s responsibilities before they end up with a family.

Tumblr chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Ao3 link | Ff.net link

---

Adversity – 13-A

Tenzin clutches a warm towel and wipes it across her forehead. He did not know why and if it would help but he thought it might make her feel better.

Her chest rose and fell with each breath, no longer laborious or irregular. Nonetheless, he kept vigil and held one of her hands. It reminded him of incidents in the past years where he kept watch over her – that night in the Fire Nation Royal Compound when they first found her alive, those nights after missions that might have gone fatally wrong…

The day had started promising. But as always with the two of them, it never was easy…

Once he had the cabana in his view, he should have known that Izumi would have pulled something like this.

---

Tenzin received a message from one of the staff that the princess requested for lunch to be served at one of the beach cabanas. He did not think much about it; it has happened before and figured that maybe Izumi was being a good host.

There was only one person else in the cabana – Lin, who was looking puzzled and was frowning at something on the table.

His feet hit the sand and the earthbender turned to him. “Oh, it’s you.” She looked at him incredulously.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He deadpanned, seating across her. He did not ask questions, assuming that she was led to the cabana using the same ruse.

"I had no idea that you were the man that Izumi said that I'll be meeting for lunch." Lin flicked a note towards him. “Why is she doing this? I found that upon arriving here.”

He caught the paper that slid on the table.

It was in Izumi’s handwriting – informing Lin to please consider (consider – the word was underlined heavily, the insinuation not lost to the reader) this man that she has invited for her. And that they would be left to their own devices as the princess has taken the entire family off for a scenic tour of the island on Druk, Appa and Oogi.

Trust that Izumi would have connived with the rest of the family to pull something like this off.

Tenzin felt the need to apologize for their meddling family and did just that.

Lin shrugged, seemingly uninterested. “Is this supposed to be a test?”

“A test?” What does she mean?

“For me – or for you?” Lin asked back.

“Like for your memory?” To the airbender, it seemed like they were having a different conversation.

The earthbender looked vaguely uncomfortable now, hand lightly patting her belly. “Um no – I mean, for you – is Izumi…?” She trailed off.

For the life of him, Tenzin could not think of what the continuation was.

“Your partner?” Lin finally asked.

What.

“No!” Tenzin’s voice rose, surprised by the question that he did not even consider that the response might have sounded rude. “Of course not!”

“Don’t you protest too much?” Lin was amused. “It’s fine really – or is it a matter of security?” She was being nonchalant about it though Tenzin could have sworn there was a tiny bit of relief in her voice.

“What. No – it’s not like that.” Tenzin had to disabuse her of this ludicrous idea she had. “They’re all just meddling – they mean well – look, Izumi – she’s not my type -!”

Now you just sounded like a whiny teenager.

He cleared his throat and tugged at his collar. “Well, seems like they’re setting us up.”

“Whatever for,” She rolled her eyes then grinned. “Let’s not waste the food then.”

He found himself chuckling at that as Lin proceeded to scoop some food on her plate. “Joke’s on them though.”

Lin’s only response was a raised eyebrow.

“I actually intend to ask you out for dinner today.”

She paused and left her chopstick hanging in the air. “Dinner.”

He wet his dry lips. “Yes.”

“I take it you haven’t told them yet?” Lin examined the other dishes available to them. “What time do we need to get ready or we don’t know yet, depending on how soon they get back?”

Tenzin held the back of his neck as the heat crept up. “I mean, dinner – just us, you and me?”

As much as he did not want to admit, maybe Bumi was right – he did not have game.

Lin’s face was unreadable.

He was able to back-pedal when he heard it.

“Okay.”

---

The rest of their lunch went a smoother.

They talked about the mundane things – he talked about Republic City, she talked about the Fire Nation. She asked about what he does in the council and how the RCPD was when they left. He was more than happy to oblige and took the time to answer her questions in great detail.

Before long, when she declared that she felt too full for dessert, he invited her to walk along the shore. He pointed out a cluster of rock formations at the edge of the island.

Lin looked intrigued and they set forth.

He explained that Lord Zuko had told them when they were children that the rocks were formed when the volcano used to be active. It made for an impressive sight, tall and a bit forbidding.

That did not stop them though, Tenzin shared, as they would keep going back there to play when they were younger.

They stood beside the rocks, sandals soaked by the sea, small waves lapping at their legs.

He was in the middle of a retelling of the time Bumi had dared Su to race him to the top (not knowing that the kid can earthbend really well by then) when rather large wave crashed against the rock formation, spraying and drenching them with salt water.

He was laughing, saying he probably should have warned that that usually happens. His eyes alighted on her and was caught mid-laugh.

Lin stood stiffly, her eyes wild. One hand on her cheek (her scars), another on her chest - breathing erratically gulping air.

“Lin!” He immediately held her by the shoulders; she was shaking. “Lin!”

A panic attack.

Each breath rattled against chest as she started blankly, unseeing. Lin was insensible to her surroundings.

Tenzin scooped her up and ran as it all clicked.

Captain Tomasu did say that they had found Lin in the water.

Damn.

The minutes it took him to the rest house felt like hours. With the family away on whatever excursion Izumi and Iroh planned, he had to rely on the staff to come to their aid. Fortunately, the in-house healer was at hand.

The rest was a blur.

He felt the moment she regained consciousness. Her breathing shifted yet her eyes remained close.

Tenzin continued to run his fingers on her knuckles, whether to comfort her or himself was unclear.

Lin blinked slowly, her breathing sped up. Her hand quickly slapped to her cheek, tracing the scar with shaking fingers.

The airbender could hear her murmuring softly.

“My name is Lin. I’m in Ember Island. I’m okay. I’m safe. We’re -.” Her eyes focused and saw Tenzin at the periphery. “The baby?”

Tenzin leaned forward, grasping both of her hands and placing them on her stomach. “Is okay. You’re both okay – I had you both checked. You just had a little panic attack.”

There was no use alarming her.

“Panic attack…” She whispered to herself. “I used to black out before…”

“I’m sorry,” Tenzin said quietly. “I should have paid more attention to you.”

“You couldn’t have known.” Lin said in an equally soft tone. To his astonishment, she pulled his hand up to her cheek and leaned on it. “You couldn’t have done anything.”

He extended his fingers, gingerly touching her cheek. There were still times in the past weeks when he could not believe that she was here and she was alive. Little touches like these were rare and he savored the moments to remind himself that she was truly there.

“The rice granary,” Lin began, staring at the ceiling, actively avoiding Tenzin’s gaze. “It exploded, you know, the man – the firebender –.”

The airbender waited, this was in the papers and the reports that he was very familiar with.

“He knew what he was doing,” Lin held on his fingers tightly. “He saw me and he set fire – I fell to the water. I felt like drowning – maybe I did.” Tenzin gripped her hand back. “It was really hot and there was a lot of metal scraps. I remember sinking and maybe removing my armor…” Her face scrunched, obviously thinking. “The current was fast, rapidly swept me away – it was so cold. I thought I was going to die.” She resolutely focused on the ceiling when she heard Tenzin’s gasp. “I don’t know how long it was – it was dark, then there was light. My lungs – they burned so bad. Next thing I knew – I was aboard Captain Tomasu’s ship.”

Tenzin’s own breath caught.

Could it be… her memories have returned?

“Don’t force it.” He rubbed her wrist back and forth, hoping to sooth her.

“It’s still blank.” Her face was troubled and eyes were shiny with unshed tears. “I don’t remember what happened before the explosion.”

Feeling her get distressed, Tenzin moved closer to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m Lin Beifong, my mother is Toph – we grew up together in Republic City.” She now turned to him. “I live in Republic City now…”

His stomach churned. “What’s the last thing you remember from before?” He asked cautiously, afraid of triggering something.

“I’m deputy chief, I think.” She racked her brains. “There’s this small apartment. I think I live there.”

Tenzin swallowed. This was from a time before they lived together, when they were still exploring their relationship.

“I’m not losing it, am I? That really happened?” Her green eyes wide, seeing reassurance.

He nodded, still silently contemplating what this meant.

“After that – it’s blank.” She released a breath. “Did something significant happen during that missing period?”

“You got promoted to Chief of Police.”

“Maybe that’s it…something to do with work.” Lin guessed absentmindedly, biting her lip.

He added tentatively. “We’ve also decided to move in together.”

The way she looked at him now – it was as if she was seeing him for the first time.

“You’re the father.” She stated it so plaintively with a hint of caution.

“That’s the first time you’ve told me that.” Tenzin attempted to downplay the significance of the revelation. “Don’t worry about it – you probably didn’t know you were pregnant back then before –.” He waved a hand around, at a loss for words on how to explain the situation.

“You’re not even questioning it?” Her voice was tight and her posture tense.

“Not at all.”

She finally let tears flow.

---

He embraced her, murmuring reassurances that he will be there for her and the child. He will be involved.

But somehow – there was still that gap in her memory. She was missing something crucial, she can feel it - it was about the Air Nation. The gut feel was of hesitation and wariness. What was it about?

She had talked to Aang the previous days and there were no mentions of issues with the Air Nation.

Maybe it had something to do with crime? With her promotion as Chief of Police?

If only her mother were around… Maybe she could help her piece her memory together.

Lin pulled back from the airbender, who suddenly looked at her with apprehension.

“What happens now – what if I don’t remember?” Now that she had part of her memories back – she hated the feeling of uncertainty.

“We’ll take it one day at a time.” Tenzin inched closer to her, gently cupping her face in his hands, wiping her tears. “Just know that you’re never alone.”

The sincerity in his eyes was enough for her. She did not even need to employ her seismic sense to know he was telling the truth.

She closed her eyes as he moved. She felt his lips on her forehead.

The airbender sat back down, a soft smile on his face.

She looked at their entwined fingers.

She will take this chance.

This was for her child. All for their child. And it will be enough.

#linzin #linzin fanfic #toccatina's fanfics #toccatina wip #toccatina adversity #lin beifong #tenzin #legend of korra fanfic

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elliemarchetti · 3 years

Text

The Most Macabre of Scenes, The Most Terrible of Nightmares

As I hope the few souls reading this have already guessed, requests are open for anything on LOTR and The Hobbit. However, in this chapter the journey of the Fellowship continues, but various shadows loom over their safety and the hearts of its members.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Words: 2643

The attack was short and violent, but fortunately no one was injured. It was about midnight on their eighth day of travel when the Orcs stroke, a raid planned down to the last detail, one might say, as they had took advantage of the current, the crescent moon that lit up the sky and the abundance of strangely bright stars, reflecting like torches on the River’s surface. Their black-feathered arrows had fallen like lethal rain upon the Fellowship, but except for a few torn cloaks, there had been no damage. Hidden among the ferns of the western shore, as awake as they could be, everyone thought about what they saw in the sky after their enemies had unexpectedly retreated, trying to give a name to the great winged creature, blacker than the pits of the night, which had emerged from the south. Fierce voices rose up to greet it from across the water, and Elva could still feel the chills running through her and clutching at her heart, deadly cold like the memory of an old wound. She had killed it, with a single shot from the bow she had received as a gift in Lorien, but she was sure there were others, and she wanted nothing more than to get as far away as possible from that irreparably corrupted land. After that vision, Haldir had no longer spoken, but he was frowning and his mind was probably in Lothlorien, lost in calculating how long such a beast would take to reach the ends of the mallorn’s forest. Lying next to him, Elva wished she was able to say out loud that he could return, if he wished, that no one would’ve wanted him any harm for placing his homeland before a mission that didn’t even belonged to him, and that Galadriel herself would’ve probably been grateful for the warning, but selfishly, she couldn’t, so she hugged tighter her knees under the cloak, a reassurance and a way to fight the changing of the weather. When the day came, the mood of the world about them had become soft and sad. Slowly the dawn grew to a pale light, diffused and shadowless. There was mist on the River, and white fog swathed the shore, making the far bank impossible to see.

“I can’t abide fog,” said Sam, “but this seems to be a lucky one: now perhaps we can get away without those cursed goblins seeing us.”

“Perhaps so,” said Aragorn. “But it will be hard to find the path unless the fog lifts a little later on, and we must, if we are to pass Sarn Gebir and come to the Emyn Muil.”

“I don’t see why we should pass the Rapids or follow the River any further,” said Boromir. “If the Emyn Muil lie before us, then we can abandon these cockle-boats and strike westward and southward, until we come to the Entwash and cross into my own land.”

“We can, if we are making for Minas Tirith,” said Aragorn, “but that’s not yet agreed, and such a course may be more perilous than it sounds: the Entwash’s vale is flat and fenny, fog a deadly peril for those on foot and laden. I wouldn’t abandon our boats until we must, for the River is at least a path that cannot be missed.”

“But the Enemy holds the eastern bank,” objected Boromir, “and even if you pass the Gates of Argonath, coming unmolested to the Tindrock, what will you do then? Leap down the Falls and land in the marshes?”

The tones were heating up, and Elva thought it was time to intervene: “It’s not the way of the Men of Minas Tirith to desert their friends at need, and we’ll need your strength, if ever we are to reach the Tindrock.”

The mortal seemed satisfied with those words, and decided he would go as far as the tall isle, but no further.

“There I shall turn to my home,” he announced, “alone if my help hasn’t earned the reward of any companionship.”

Elva prayed that someone had decided to pursue that mission, but in order to keep an army as powerful as that of Boromir's father, if everyone chose to follow Aragorn, she would be the one to separate from the rest of the companions, this decided a long time ago, perhaps at the very moment Gandalf had chosen her for the Quest. That gloomy possibility, which was so far from her ideals, prompted her to wait for the mist to rise in silence, even as she and Haldir went exploring forward along the shore, while the others remained by the boats. She hoped to find some way by which they could carry everything to the smoother water beyond the Rapids, but even if the elven boats wouldn’t sink, that didn’t ensure they could come through Sarn Gebir alive, for none ever done so yet, and no road was made by the Men of Gondor in this region, for even in their great days their realm didn’t reach up Anduin beyond the Emyn Muil.

“There is a portage-way somewhere on the western shore, if I can find it,” revealed Haldir, so softly that for a moment Elva hardly noticed.

"I didn't tell the others," the elf went on, "because I was afraid they wouldn't believe me, after my miscalculations pushed us towards the Orcs attack; besides, I fought those creatures for a good part of my own adult life, and I could’ve imagined their simple but ingenious plan."

"No one was injured, that's the important thing," Elva replied, thinking that if anyone had risked being hit, it would’ve been him, as an arrow had ripped off both the cloak and the skin of the jacket from his shoulders.

"But if that had happened, the fault would’ve been mine alone, and whoever had accused me, even if only in grief, would’ve been right: you have already lost the Istar, and before I should’ve warned Aragorn it wasn’t wise to continue at night as he suggested, but I didn't, and now I don't want to deceive anyone until I’m sure that my memory doesn’t deceive me," he replied, resolute in the bitterness of someone who can't forgive himself.

"Why are you telling me, then?" Elva asked, unable to stop.

"Because I'm sure I can trust you, and I know you’ve faced the guilt, same or not, even if I still don’t know what you’re carrying it for,” he replied, with a naked and vulnerable honesty, which hit right to the point. She didn't like talking about her past, much less what she felt about it, yet he must’ve seen a difficult life in her eyes, a life that perhaps could’ve been more like his, if only she had been born in another realm. Like Lorien, Mirkwood was a wonderful but tricky place, where growing up as a half-breed wasn't easy at all, especially when you needed to do it by yourself. Getting to know Legolas, and later becoming his confidant and friend, had been a blessing, and she kept telling herself that her true life had begun the day a young prince was bewitched by the ability of a simple recruit with a bow and with words. She hadn't treated him well, weary as every orphan is, and perhaps that was precisely what had intrigued him, since at court no one spoke to him as an equal, much less had the courage to say what they really though, too busy trying to win the future king’s favours, since with the one in charge was so hard. Speaking of Thranduil, he had welcomed her as if she were his own daughter, instructing and having her instructed in the best possible way; but the king was a cold and distant father, rigid in his manner and limited in his displays of affection, not exactly what a girl without parents desires most. If loving Legolas as a brother had been simple, as natural as breathing and almost a matter of survival, the same couldn't be said of the oldest of the Greenleafs, but she had learned that too, and with it the art of concealing her heart, although with Haldir it was so difficult.

"And how can I know I should have the same trust in you?" she asked, her heart heavy. She needed to believe that he wouldn’t leave the Fellowship, even if she followed Boromir and everyone else went by water, and she needed to know if he would understand her decision, or if he would end up misinterpreting it.

"You can't, but to convince you otherwise, I'll tell you something that I'm sure should’ve remained a secret: Galadriel's Mirror showed me three visions, three possible futures, I find myself believing. I still don't want to talk about two, because it doesn't seem wise, but the most macabre of scenes, the most terrible of nightmares that I thought I could have, I feel like sharing: I don't know if the Fellowship had failed in its intent, or if it's the fate that awaits my homeland anyway, if events should take that turn, but darkness had fallen over the forest of golden trees when a flock of huge winged creatures, like the one you killed last night, swept over Calas Galadhon. The Lord and the Lady fought side by side with every common citizen, and a shower of arrows capable of obscuring the stars was sent from each talan towards the sky. I don't know how the battle could end, as my vision was limited to that, but I have seen you fight with us, and defend our young and old as if they were your own. I don't pretend to understand what those images meant, and why the Mirror decided to show them to me, but I believe it was the beginning of Lorien's Winter, the first day of a downhill road to inevitable ruin, yet you were there by our side, and I don't think you'd fight for the land of someone you don’t trust,” he concluded, just as enigmatic as his ruler. Did he meant he understood her malfidence towards the Galadhrim, or was it really just his way of assuming that she would always trust him, to the point of risking death for a place that did not belong to her? There was no way of knowing but asking, and it didn't seem appropriate, fearing that he too might ask her what the Mirror had shown her. Death, she might’ve replied, no matter it was the mallorn’s, his people’s or Haldir’s himself, but she didn't want to talk about it anymore, she just wanted to forget his pale skin in the moonlight, the dust, sweat and blood surrounding her like a sea that smelled of the Enemy's wickedness instead of salt, so she fell silent.

“It cannot yet have perished,” muttered Haldir under his breath, after a while. “Light boats used to journey out of Wilderland down to Osgiliath, and still did so until a few years ago, when the Orcs of Mordor began to multiply.”

“Even if we find the path, peril will grow with every mile we go forward, for it lies ahead on every southward road,” replied Elva

They found what they were looking for just before noon, with the head of the Rapids half a mile below them: a track leading to a good landing, a little more than a mile long, was still serviceable, not far beyond the stream clear and smooth again, though running swiftly. The hardest task was to get the boats and baggage to the old portage-way, lying well back from the water-side near which they were camped, and running under the lee of a rock-wall, a furlong or more from the shore. “I fear we must leave the River now, and make for the portage-way as best we can from here,” said Haldir, once back.

“That wouldn’t be easy, even if we were all Men,” said Boromir.

“Yet such as we are we will try it,” Aragorn replied peremptorily.

“We will!” confirmed Gimli, and although the task was difficult, it was nevertheless completed, the goods taken out of the boats and brought to the top of the bank, where there was a level space, and the boats themselves drawn out of the water and carried up, proving to be far less heavy than any had expected; at last, all was removed to be laid on the portage-way and with little further hindrance, save from sprawling briars and many fallen stones, they moved forward all together. Fog still hung in veils upon the crumbling rock-wall, and to their left mist shrouded the River: they could hear it rushing and foaming over the sharp shelves and stony teeth of Sarn Gebir, but they couldn't see it. There the portage-way, turning back to the water-side, ran gently down to the shallow edge of a little pool scooped in the river-side, not by hand, but by the water swirling down from Sarn Gebir against a low pier of rock that jutted out some way into the stream. Beyond it the shore rose sheer into a grey cliff, and there was no further passage for those on foot. Already the short afternoon was past, and a dim cloudy dusk was closing in. Sitting beside the water, they listened to the confused rush and roar of the Rapids hidden in the mist; they were tired and sleepy, and their hearts were as gloomy as the dying day at the thought of spending there another night, even if it seemed inevitable, given the general fatigue. Luckily, nothing worse than a brief drizzle of rain an hour before dawn happened, and as soon as it was fully light and the fog was thinning, they started. Keeping as close as they could to the western side, they saw the dim shapes of the low cliffs rising ever higher, shadowy walls with their feet in the hurrying river. In the mid-morning the clouds drew down lower, and it began to rain heavily, forcing them to drew the skin-covers over their boats to prevent them from being flooded and drifted on; little could be seen before or about them through the grey falling curtains but it didn’t last long, the sky above growing lighter and suddenly opening, dismissing fogs and mists too. Before the travellers lay a wide ravine, with great rocky sides to which clung, upon shelves and in narrow crevices, a few trees; as they sped along with little hope of stopping or turning, whatever might meet ahead, Elva peered forward, seeing in the distance two great rocks approaching. Like pinnacles or pillars of stone they stood, tall, sheer and ominous, creating a narrow gap among which the boats could only pass one by one. They were the Argonath, the Pillars of the Kings, vast grey figures silent but threatening, shaped and fashioned as two great kings of stone with blurred eyes and crannied brows frowning upon the North. The left hand of each was raised palm outwards in gesture of warning, while in each right hand there was an axe and upon each head there was a crumbling helm and crown. Great power and majesty they still wore, the silent wardens of a long-vanished Kingdom, instilling awe and fear in the Fellowship travelling in boats frail and fleeting as little leaves, under the enduring shadow of the sentinels of Numenor. Passing into the dark chasm of the Gates, sheer rose the dreadful cliffs on either side, while the black waters roared and echoed, and a wind screamed over them. What a horrible place it was, but it must’ve been even worse for Aragorn, a king in exile who was finally returning to his land only to see it filled with the noise of wind, rushing water and echoing stone.

#haldir x fem oc #haldir of lothlorien #aragorn #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #boromir #gandalf the grey #galadriel #legolas greenleaf #thranduil greenleaf #gimli son of gloin #lotr #the fellowship of the ring

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zutaraangtastic · 4 years

Note

Could you do a little drabble about zuko and aang sharing dreams? maybe that is how zuko’s relationship with aang and katara starts, like it is what sparks it all :)

Also inspired by this post by @vomara! (Reminder that we are not accepting new prompts; we received these before July 1.) - Mod J

The moonlight pools in a pale circle on the dark water, perfectly still until Aang lands. His light footsteps cast ripples outwards as he spins Katara for an extra few beats in the air. Her eyes are squeezed shut with laughter as he guides her down gently, but she opens them, a gleam of mischief in their blue depths, and takes the lead as soon as she finds solid footing.

Aang gladly follows, letting her twirl him out to the end of her arm’s length and bring him back in. They sway together for an easy, quiet moment, with his back to her front and her smile pressed to his shoulder. He feels secure, wrapped up in her embrace, as he always does.

It’s a dream he has often, dancing on the sea with her—it’s one he never tires of. In the back of his mind, he knows she’s sleeping peacefully right next to him, so it’s not like it’s coming from a place of unfulfilled desire, as far as he can tell. They dance together all the time in their home, at fancy Republic City functions, at the Fire Lord’s galas. It’s just nice to steal away this extra secret time with her between night and day.

Even if it’s not quite the same as in real life, his mind does a pretty good job of conjuring Katara in a sleek sky-blue dress that tapers down one leg, her shoulders bare and her hair cascading in waves down her back. She’s utterly enchanting.

She dips him low, and Aang raises a hand to her cheek, his heart so full of love he feels like he could drown in it. “Baby, you’re my moon and stars,” he whispers, watching for the way the corners of her eyes crinkle with a smile as she leans in to kiss him. His own eyes flutter shut.

Something changes at that moment, heats up on his skin, brightens against his face. He doesn’t think much of it until he peeks his right eye open just a crack and gets a close-up look at an unmistakable scar—closer than he’s ever seen it in real life, close enough to see rivulets of pale tissue and faint pockets between rough scarlet ridges.

“Uh,” says Zuko.

“Um,” says Aang.

Neither of them moves. Around them, the scenery has turned to a soul-baringly sunny day, the water glittering beneath their feet. Zuko’s hands are where Katara’s were, one supporting Aang’s backwards lean and one resting high up on his thigh, Aang’s other knee raised up to frame Zuko’s side. Golden light, reflecting off the pool, dazzles in Zuko’s wide eyes, which soften little by little with something like gratitude.

Finally, he breaks the stillness of the moment with a somewhat dismayed laugh, letting go of the breath he seemed to be holding. Aang could almost swear he catches a sharp firewhiskey aftertaste brushing warmly over his lips. It’s an oddly specific detail, for a dream.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Zuko says, his mouth curving in a rare, secretive smile. “You’re just the person I wanted to see tonight.”

Something about it rubs against the grain in Aang’s mind, doesn’t quite add up the way it should, but he finds himself laughing, too, settling with ease into the firm hold that shifts to his waist. His own arms naturally find their way to wrap behind Zuko’s neck.

“You’re a lot smoother when I’m asleep, sifu hotman,” he remarks, and if Zuko’s brow furrows momentarily, he doesn’t really think twice about it after Zuko quickly twirls him a few times, catches him again by the hand and shoulder and steps with him in perfect sync.

Briefly, in the back of his mind, he wonders about Katara, but she wasn’t really here, and neither is Zuko. Even if his keen gaze makes Aang feel just as flustered as it does in real life, when he judges Aang’s firebending forms to “keep him sharp.” Even if the hand gliding up his side through the open slit of his robe makes him feel as hot as the sun.

He loves Katara. If he could love Zuko, too, he would—or, well, he already does, he thinks, but what difference does it make? All he knows is the real Zuko is sleeping soundly on the other side of the world. This can’t do any harm.

A little bit of sparring seems to blend naturally into their exchange. Instead of breaking apart to do the full Dancing Dragon, they stay close, trailing rainbow fire from their footsteps and trading precarious kicks around each other’s knees, legs crossing back and forth over one another as they move to and fro. The water doesn’t sizzle when their bending makes contact with it but splashes up into crystallized leaves of amber flame, scattering in their wake.

Aang ends up in the lead at some point, supporting Zuko’s weight in a high lift and a descending spin, their orange and red robes catching with a friction that might as well make a spark of its own. Several long strands of hair have strayed from Zuko’s topknot, falling messily around his face, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. There’s a simmering, unwavering intensity in his eyes now, never leaving Aang’s face. Aang flings him this way and that, dips him low and whispers, grinning, “Baby, you’re my sun and stars.”

Zuko smirks invitingly, only to backflip over Aang’s bracing arm before Aang can act further. He lands easily, links his hand with Aang’s again and steps in close and fast to snap one leg up around Aang’s hip. They lean together, an unbroken line of contact from chest to thighs, breathing heavily. The shared hallucination of rhythm and music fades, and the utter brightness of the sky, too.

The closeness is so tempting, would make it so easy to kiss Zuko, but Aang decides to let his subconscious decide whether Zuko might make the first move instead.

“I didn’t know you could dance like that,” he says, with just a teasing note of accusation.

Zuko snorts, rolls his eyes with a distinctly affectionate exasperation reserved for Aang alone. Unthinkingly, Aang reaches to brush the loose hair back behind Zuko’s ear. His hand lingers gingerly against Zuko’s scar, warm, real, solid. Zuko doesn’t flinch away. Aang expects this dreamed image to melt away at any minute, but it doesn’t.

Before he loses the nerve, he blurts, “I didn’t know you would ever want to. With me.”

At that, Zuko chuckles, a self-deprecating sound edged with hopelessness that makes Aang’s heart clench. He closes his eyes and says, seemingly more to himself than Aang, “I knew this was all just stupid wishful thinking. That’s what happens, going to bed after too much to drink. Stupid.”

His eyelashes paint delicate, spidery shadows towards the arch of his cheek, shining damply, and his eyebrow digs down into a tense furrow. Aang doesn’t know what to do. This doesn’t make sense anymore—everything was going so well, and he thought that at least in a dream he might get a happy ending. He can’t put his finger on what went wrong.

Lost, he bends his head slightly to press his lips to Zuko’s forehead, as the last golden light is swallowed up in the gray dawn all around them.

When Aang blinks slowly awake, the morning sky through the window is the first thing he sees, the first rays of sun stretching up into the receding blue. Katara is snoring gently, facing him, with her hair spilling over half her face. Aang lifts her sleep-heavy hand and works his fingers between hers, bringing her knuckles to his lips to kiss them softly.

He doesn’t know how long he lies awake there, watching the sun turn the clouds a rosy orange. Normally, he would get up and find somewhere to meditate. But he feels reluctant to leave Katara’s side this morning.

He stays long enough that she wakes up, though he’s sure she’ll doze off again soon enough. She squints at him with a reflexive, familiar smile and rasps, her voice rough with sleep, “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Like what?”

“The way you always did when you thought I wasn’t watching you, back then.”

Aang laughs, and Katara does too, their breath stirring together between. “I can’t help it. I just love you.”

“Mm.” Katara scoots closer, snuggling her head under Aang’s chin and draping her arm over him. “Something’s on your mind, though. You always looked at me like that, all in love, ’cause you didn’t know how to tell me yet.”

Aang falls quiet. Reading the tension in him, Katara raises her hand to rub his upper arm gently, expectantly.

“I had a dream,” he says eventually. “About you…and Zuko.”

Katara leans back to look at him sharply. “Sweetie, you know you can’t let the tabloids get to you like that. I love you,” she says, with just a hint of scolding in her voice. “Zuko’s just a good friend.”

Aang opens his mouth, then closes it. “Yeah,” he says, pushing down the regret in it. “He is a good friend.”

He can’t explain this to her, can’t ask her to understand something that might very well tear them apart. And that dream, as weird and real as it was…there’s just no way that Zuko feels like that, too.

When Katara eventually does slip back into sleep, Aang kisses the crown of her head, carefully disentangles himself, and wanders down to the seashore to practice his firebending forms.

#zutaraang #kataang #zukaang #zutaraangdrabblechallenge #mod j #fic #Anonymous

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draconica · 3 years

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25: Keeping the other person warm

pspsps I wanted to see that praise kink too, bro ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Nick shut the front door on the howling wind as it tried to follow them indoors, having to grunt with the effort but managing to hear the click of the lock. He slumped against it with a breath of relief and turned to Ellis who was shaking the snow from his coat.

“Damn, that blizzard came outta nowhere!” Ellis remarked and removed his beanie hat, shaking out his hair.

Nick nodded as he reached out to grasp Ellis�� shoulder, steadying himself as he toed off he shoes. They were only his loafers – he hadn’t planned on wearing them for snow, so now his feet were freezing. “God damn it,” he mumbled, taking off his jacket and hanging it up in the closet by the front door, then moved both his shoes and El’s boots into the shoe racks. “Crank the heat up, would you, sport?”

“Already done,” Ellis called as he turned up the dial on their thermostat. The young hick then moved through into the living room, peering out their front-facing window. “Shit, would’ya look at it! Looks like Narnia out there already.”

Nick joined him, placing a casually affectionate hand onto Ellis’ lower back. “Well, no poker for me tonight,” he sighed, mentally ripping up that evening’s plans to go to a buddy’s house for a few games.

“I’ll go put the groceries away,” the southerner remarked, rubbing his hands to try and warm them up a little.

“Do that,” replied Nick. “I’m gonna sort something out in here.”

Ellis waved a hand at him, not really paying enough attention to ask what the ‘something’ Nick had in mind would be. He just busied himself with putting away the food they’d bought and trying to keep moving, hoping it would warm him up a bit.

“Jeez, Nick… why’d you buy so many jars o’ pickles?” Ellis grimaced – he’d always hated pickles, but Nick loved them. Just one of many compromises they’d had to settle over the last year. The mechanic continued to unload the groceries until his hand found a bottle and blushed upon pulling it from the bag. It was a bottle of lubricant, a new kind they hadn’t yet tried – a special tingling variety. Nick… that sly bastard. He must’ve slipped it into the cart when Ellis wasn’t looking. Instead of setting it aside to take up to the bedroom later, Ellis slipped it into his pocket, biting his lip a little as he imagined what it would be like to use it. He wondered just how long it would be before they did.

Once he was done, he tossed the paper bags into the recycling and walked back into the living room, pausing when he noticed something was different. First of all, the fireplace had been ignited for the first time since they’d moved in, bathing the room in luscious orange warmth. And secondly, a bundle of thick white blankets had been laid across the couch. In amongst them was his boyfriend, the blanket pulled up to his chin as he looked up at Ellis expectantly.

“Well, I’ll be a bull’s breakfast,” Ellis chuckled, shaking his head. “So this is what’chu were up to in here?”

Nick said nothing. Instead he simply pulled the blankets away from beside him, leaving the space open for Ellis to shuffle in. It wasn’t too often that Nick was willing to cuddle, and would go to such lengths to do so. Perhaps this was just his ingenious way of dealing with the cold?

“El, you coming in or not? The longer I leave a gap in these covers, the colder we’ll be under here.”

He thought so.

Ellis rolled his eyes a little and removed his hoodie before pausing, shrugging, and removing his jeans and t-shirt aswell. Now in just his boxers, the Georgian climbed onto the couch and crawled next to Nick, tugging the covers back over them both and making sure they were tucked in nicely. The younger man looked up at his lover with a smile as they snuggled up closely, both their arms around each other. “This is one o’ yer better ideas,” he murmured.

“What?” Nick opened one eye, tilting his head slightly. “All of my ideas are good ones.”

Ellis had to chuckle again, rubbing his cheek against Nick’s shoulder and allowing one of his hands to gently smooth over his lover’s chest. “Oh yeah? What about that one time you put that Chinese takeout in the microwave while it was still in its cardboard container?”

The conman snorted a little, looking away. “It was only a small fire.”

But Ellis wasn’t finished compiling a list of Nick’s past accidents. “Or that one time the barbecue wasn’t lightin’ so you poured, like, a whole can of gas onto it?”

“Alright,” Nick turned and hushed his lover with a kiss. “Just be glad this fire turned out okay.” He nodded to the fireplace in front of them, blazing away with the occasional comforting crackle. The homeliness of the situation was incredibly charming.

“Love you,” whispered the mechanic, tilting his chin upwards so that he could bury his face into Nick’s neck, something the gambler liked and accepted.

“Love you too, kiddo.” He turned his eyes back to the window. It was almost dark outside, the sky was so gray with heavy cloud, even more snow flurrying down. “Shit, I wonder how deep it’s gonna get?” he chewed the inside of his cheek. “It’s a good thing we just went food shopping, we might be stuck at home for a while if this keeps up.”

Ellis peeked out from his bundle of blankets to have a look for himself. “Man, look at it out there. Hope we don’t get bored.” He shuffled slightly under the covers, nuzzling his lover’s shoulder again. “Lord, and I’m still cold…”

Nick sighed, feigning annoyance, as he tugged Ellis even closer. “C’mere,” he whispered, turning the tables on his lover slightly by moving his face into Ellis’ neck, beginning to kiss and nuzzle there. He was starting to get another one of his brilliant ideas on how they could turn up the heat even more.

And Ellis seemed to warm to the idea very much so, sifting his hand through Nick’s hair and encouraging his affections. With a hum, he turned his body a little more towards the gambler’s, trying to gather as much heat between them as they could. Fortunately, it also meant their chests could press together, Nick’s slightly furred pecs grazing over Ellis’ smoother ones.

“Nick,” whispered Ellis, by now trying to get as much contact between them as possible. “Please tell me we ain’t gotta be anywhere anytime soon.”

“Take another look outside,” Nick chuckled, his hand finding Ellis’ and trailing slowly up his arm. “We probably won’t be leaving the house for a fucking week.”

Leaning back into the couch, Ellis pulled Nick with him until he was almost on top of him. “More than enough time for what I’m thinkin’.”

There was a small glint in Nick’s eye that sparkled just before he leant in for a heated kiss with his lover, pressing him into the back of the couch. It wasn’t always that Nick and Ellis were on the same page about something (more often than not, Nick wondered if Ellis was on the same fucking book) but one of the things they agreed on the most was the right times for sex. Though Nick did like to initiate such things more often, Ellis tended to get more touchy-feely while the pair were in bed together after a long day and they both needed winding down. This time it was ingenious. They could kill two birds with one stone, finding a way to combat both the cold and the boredom.

Ellis gave a long hum of content as Nick’s hands began to wander over his body, trailing over the deep-set lines of his chest muscles. Eventually, as Nick’s fingers went lower to his hips and stomach, Ellis couldn’t help it – he started to giggle.

“C’mon, Nick,” the mechanic blushed harshly, trying to move back slightly from his fingers. “You know I’m ticklish there.”

Nick pulled away from where he’d been kissing his neck. “That’s exactly why I did it, babe.”

“I hate ’chu, sometimes- oh, Nick…” Ellis writhed a little closer to Nick again as the older man’s hand rubbed between his legs, teasing the tent of his boxers even higher.

Nick grinned against the golden skin of Ellis’ neck, his plan set in motion quite nicely. The hick began to buck his hips into the stroking, pawing motion of his older lover’s hand. It soon became clear that Nick was intent on teasing him as he usually liked to do, drawing the foreplay out for as long as possible. And so the smaller man initiated his own plan.

Bracing one hand onto Nick’s shoulder, Ellis pushed his lover until they rolled on the couch and he ended up straddling Nick, pinning him to the cushions with his knees on either side of the man’s hips. The sudden manoeuvre had caused the blankets to fall away slightly, revealing more of their skin to each other. In the orange glow of the fireplace, it was even more inviting. Ellis got immense satisfaction from seeing Nick’s expression turn from surprise to arousal in a matter of seconds.

“You ain’t the only one with tricks up yer sleeve, fancy suit,” purred the Georgian, his hands rubbing Nick’s shoulders as he leant down for a hot kiss. The conman returned it with full fervor, hands travelling over Ellis’ body now that he had more room to do so and in turn the kisses grew more hurried, both men already feeling the heat like it was contagious.

Nick grunted and pushed the blankets off the couch entirely, the bundle falling to the floor unneeded. “Too hot,” he murmured against Ellis’ lips as the younger man cupped his face.

“Perfect,” Ellis replied and began to move his hips against the other man, panting at the friction caused by their underwear. Nick gave a strained noise at the back of his throat at the movements, as his hands went straight to Ellis’ ass and tugged him even closer, encouraging his lover as much as he could. The only times they broke apart from kissing was to moan and whisper sweet come-ons to each other.

Ellis knelt up a little, his head rolling back as Nick’s lips moved across his chest, purring against the smooth skin. He carded his fingers through the thin hair at the back of Nick’s head, scratching his scalp lightly. And Nick responded in kind, slipping his hands beneath the band of Ellis’ boxers and pushing them over the curve of his rump.

“Jeez, Nick,” panted the kid, gasping as his erection finally sprung free from his underwear. He gave his lover a slight smile before backing off the couch to fully undress, pulling off Nick’s briefs while he was up. Another purr left this throat as he stood up before the older man, looking at him with a cheeky smile as he caught those green eyes rake up and down his naked body. “Like what’chu see, mister gamblin’ man?”

Nick responded by licking his lips, gesturing to his erect cock. “What do you think?”

Ellis bit his lip and reached to the floor for his coveralls, his mind going back to the lube in his pocket he’d unpacked from the groceries earlier. Guess they were going to be using it sooner than he thought. “Tingling lube, Nick?” He held it up in his hand.

“I’d try anything once,” shrugged the conman, by now rubbing himself.

The sight urged Ellis on, not wanting to wait any more for the both of them. Not breaking eye contact with his lover, he slowly got down on his knees until he was between Nick’s legs, the man’s erection rising to greet him. There was a knowing glow to Ellis’ blue eyes and Nick recognised it instantly – it had sent his arousal spiralling many a time before. There was only a small flash of a boyish grin from Ellis before he took a hold of Nick’s cock and guided it to his lips, teasing the head with his tongue as if licking up ice cream.

“God damn it, El,” huffed Nick as his head fell back, eyes closing. It wasn’t frustration – anything but – it was more a realisation and rediscovery of how kinky and dirty Ellis could get. His tongue could work true worldly wonders on whatever part of Nick’s body he decided to lavish with it. At the moment, it was curling around his dick head, tracing the dips and curves of the shaft, his eyes occasionally flicking up to give him a predator gaze. Nick returned it with a look of his own, one that begged Ellis for something else – silently so. Nick rarely begged out loud. Thankfully, Ellis took the hint, well versed in their mutual language, and came up for a small breather before sinking his mouth down onto his erection and bringing him in as far as he could.

If Nick hadn’t been aroused beyond hell, he would’ve been completely embarrassed by the noise that he’d made. Mind you, he took complete credit for how good Ellis was at giving blowjobs. Before they’d met, the mechanic had never sucked a dick in his life. While it did make for some awkward first times when Ellis would nearly choke on the length, mumbling timid apologies, now, two years down the line, he easily rivalled any Las Vegas whore who did it for a living. And Nick was proud to say it was from his own valuable teachings that Ellis picked it up so naturally. Like now as he swallowed Nick at the back of his throat like it was nothing. The conman couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment in their relationship when Ellis’ gag reflex had stopped working, but he was just glad it had.

Judging by his moans, he was very glad.

On one particularly good suck, Nick could feel the pleasure in his lower stomach start to coil up and acted quickly, reaching for his lover and tugging his hair gently. “Ngh, off…”

Ellis obeyed and pulled away, licking his lips and admiring the work he’d done. He was pretty pleased with himself to say the least if the grin on his face was any indication. But he wasn’t about to stop there. Gingerly, he picked up the lubricant one more time and squirted a little into his palm. “You were the one so keen to use this,” he reasoned, rubbing it between his hands and feeling it tingle already.

Nick gave a shrug, though had a smug look on his face. “Thought it might be fun.”

The younger man winked at him. “Well, let’s see, shall we?” He leaned in and wrapped his hand around Nick’s cock, paying close attention to his lover’s face. It was rewarding when the older man gasped, his hips melting back into the couch slightly, and gave a small chuckle.

“Shit… it feels kinda nice,” he surmised, and Ellis knew what would make it better. Gently, he began to move his hand up and down, slowly massaging and coating Nick from top to base. It was a move that seemed to meet with approval when Nick hissed and leant his head back. “Overalls,” he moaned, one of his hands going up to cover his eyes.

Ellis rested his chin on Nick’s thigh and watched him dreamily, his lubricated hand never stopping. There was something so delicious and satisfying about being the one to break the conman like this and also being the only one to see the more submissive, intimate side of him. The young Southerner flicked his gaze between Nick and his erection, purring as he watched it shine in the fiery orange glow. Moving it slightly towards himself, he subtly licked the head, tracing the tip with his tongue. “You had enough, yet?”

Nick’s mouth was open, breathing shallowly at all the sensations assaulting him at once. “Holy shit.”

With a triumphant smirk, Ellis moved up to kiss his boyfriend some more while at the same time climbing back aboard to straddle his lap. Moans and short breaths filled the room as well as the smacking of their kisses, the intensity growing by the second. Reaching around, Nick grabbed Ellis’ ass in a squeeze and tugged him closer, a dominant purr leaving his lips.

“Baby,” he crooned as one on his hands curved around the cheek, his finger finding and teasing Ellis’ pucker. The action had a desired effect when the hick gave a small whine, his backside cantering back into the touch.

“Yer a damn tease,” Ellis gasped and Nick just gave him a look that promised more. A promise he kept moments later when he penetrated the hole with one finger, teasing in a second not long after. And if Ellis thought he was winning the game of who could make their lover moan the loudest, then he was sorely mistaken as a particularly loud moan was torn from his lips.

Nick broke into a triumphant grin, opening his mouth against the younger man’s in a soft sigh of satisfaction. “Hold on tight, killer.”

Obediently, Ellis clasped his hands behind Nick’s neck and leant back on the man’s lap, using his knees to lift himself up a little. He levelled the gambler with a lusty look, pinching his lower lip between his teeth as he felt Nick’s hands part his behind and guide him down, gently and carefully. It was a frequently practised act for them to say the least and Nick knew exactly what Ellis liked, how to go about doing it and most importantly how to read his lover’s reactions perfectly. Right now, his eyebrows were pinched in concentration, the corners of his lips quivering a little as they gradually became joined together in the most intimate way possible. It amused Nick to no end.

“Feel good?” he asked around a chuckle, running both his hands up and down Ellis’s waist.

“Y-yeah,” replied the hick, showing Nick a smile of his own. “Sure does tingle.”

Nick was a sneaky bastard at the best of times and barely gave Ellis a chance to get used to the feeling before he bucked his hips up into Ellis roughly. The mechanic yapped and grabbed a hold of his lover’s shoulders while his mouth hung open. “Down boy,” he teased, making Nick smirk.

“Never heard you complain about that before,” the gambler chuckled before readjusting his grip and bouncing Ellis in his lap.

The mechanic soft moans filled the fire-lit room as he rode his lover’s cock like a practised rodeo rider. Nick bit his lip as he watched his young boyfriend’s face begin to relax, eyebrows pinching in pleasure and pillowed plush lips parting. Ellis could see just how much this was ticking Nick’s boxes and leant in to treat his lover to hot kisses. He began to pant against his mouth.

“You’re so fuckin’ good, Nick,” he purred, melting into a moan as he continued to grind his hips down. Nick let out a groan, and Ellis smiled as he went on. “So good to me… ain’t no one better than you, darlin’.”

Nick grunted as he pushed his shoulders more firmly into the couch and kept up the pace of his thrusts, trying to fuck Ellis into more talk just like that. “Yeah?” he responded, eyebrow twitching upwards. “Tell me more, sweetheart.”

Ellis opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a sudden strike to his prostate, bringing a gasp to his lips. “Christ. N-Nick… ain’t nothin’ better than when yer inside'a me. Y-you… you’re the best I’ve ever had…” The younger’s head tipped back as he desperately seek out that perfect angle again.

With a gasp of his own, Nick reached up and grabbed Ellis’s hair to give him a tug. “Say it again,” he husked while his gaze was transfixed down, watching his boyfriend ride him like he was so good at doing. Ellis was all too happy to oblige.

“Yer the best.. I’ve ever had,” he panted, feeling the sting of Nick’s hand on the back of his head. “I love ya so much… you get me so goddamn hot… ah, Lord, Nick!”

By now Ellis was rolling his hips like thunder in search of release, helped along when the older man offered him a hand, curling his fist around the mechanic’s cock and giving him something to fuck into. Nick was already lost in the heat as those song-like praises hit his ears but now that Ellis was taking control the way he was, the end was getting closer and closer. There was just something about his Southern lover spouting praise during sex the way he did that was like pornography.

Nick let go of Ellis’s hair and reaffirmed his hands on the younger’s hips. “El, I’m close,” he warned.

“Inside me,” Ellis replied, looping his arms around Nick’s neck once he settled into an angle that worked wonders for him. He panted against Nick’s lips. “Please!”

With a roar of pleasure, Nick’s fingers went white around Ellis’s hips as he hit a climax that touched every nerve in his body. He made good on Ellis’s wish and filled him up just as a long moan arrived from his lover, his cock convulsing between them as he released at last. Nick moved his hand back to pump him through his orgasm until Ellis humped his last and fell forwards. Nick caught him easily and shut his eyes.

“God damn,” he husked, feeling Ellis’s head nod a little before kisses were pressed to his shoulder. He looped his arms around his lover, brushing softly over the smooth and slightly sticky skin. Nick chuckled. “Guess that warmed us up, right?”

“Yeah.” Ellis eventually moved back and off to look at his lover, not wasting time to kiss him as their lust subsided. He then looked back out of the window at the blizzard that was blanketing the world in white. “Don’t look like it’ll let up anytime soon.”

Nick had just finished wiping them both off with a tissue, throwing it to the trash can across the room (and missing) before looking up also. “Reckon we’ll be doing this for a while, then.”

Ellis gave him a look. “Nick, if we’re gonna be spendin’ the entire snow storm havin’ sex then can I at least make some snacks first?”

The gambler snorted, reaching up to tuck a loose curl behind Ellis’s ear. Leaning into the touch, Ellis curled himself back into Nick’s side but not before reaching down to retrieve their previously forgotten blanket, wrapping them both up in a nest they would be reluctant to leave.

“Hey Nick?”

“Yeah?” The man opened one eye to peer down at him.

Ellis blushed, pushing his face into Nick’s neck. “You’re also the best at cuddlin’.”

Nick chuckled and brushed his lips against El’s temple softly. “It’s because I’m cuddling you, Overalls.”

#anonymous #nellis #l4d2 nellis #nick/ellis

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elliethesuperfruitlover · 3 years

Text

its gonna be an oolong night

A/N: Yes, I’m still alive. This is for a character that literally nobody is familiar with, and I honestly don’t care at this point. He’s wonderful, attractive, and my god great character yes yes yes. Mat x reader.

Warnings: smut, oral sex (fem! receiving), major teasing, like more than usual for me, but somehow still soft like what the fuck

I also know that a lot is going on right now, fandom-wise, and here in the US.(i swear to god one of these days im just gonna start throwing hands at the police) (or just the world in general.) But here’s some smut to take your mind off that, at least for a few thousand words.

Tag List: @super-unpredictable98, @seanfalco, @seancekitsch, @bisexualnathanyoung, @neuroticpuppy, @misskittysmagicportal, @ghoulsbuddy, @magic-multicolored-miracle, @the-freckled-luba, @maerenee930

“Come on, it’s not that bad. It’s literally just a dosage cup full.” he said, leaning the small cup towards you. Mat was testing a new brew of coffee, one he made this time. Although you loved and trusted him, sometimes he didn’t have the best execution.

“Sir, you have no idea how much anxiety I’m gonna be having if I have like any of that.” you reply, slowly backing into the corner. You look around for any type of escape, and it seems as if the side door in the kitchen was the only option. As Mat dove forward, you spun to face the door, and placed a finger on the handle.

“One move and I’m gone sir. Not permanently of course, the dick’s too good, but you know I have places to be. Food to eat. Arson to commit.” you say, half-stern, foot inching towards the door.

“Ugh fine. At least I know that I’ve been fucking you right this entire time.” he replies, downing the coffee before throwing the small cup in the sink, walking towards you. The sun was out, and he was simply glowing in it. Especially after that work out with Craig, dear lord, that man was looking scrumdiddlyumptious.

“You always listen. I have no idea if it’s because of your anxiety, or that you drink your respect women juice every morning. But what can I say, you know your way around.” you mutter, letting him come from behind you in order to hug you.

“I don’t think I’d want it any other way. Finding the body’s secrets and enjoying them together. Are you purposely trying to get me to fuck you on the couch, because I will.” Mat whispered into your form. You could feel him press his hardness into you, and a few thoughts passed through your head.

Do I want this man to fuck my brains out? Yes/No

Am I going to have to clean the couch, bed, counter, and or kitchen table afterwards? Yes/No

Will he make/give me brownies afterwards? Yes/No

But I have work to do??? Do That First, And Let Him Tease You Through It/Ignore

“Okay, fine, I’ll let you fuck me afterwards. But you can tease me throughout, it’s always an option.” you mutter, turning around to see the half-smirk on his face.

“Oh, you’re going to struggle, mama.” he said, putting a record on, Keys of Life, as expected.

“We’ll see.”

And fucking see you did. You couldn’t get a fucking break from this man’s fucking hands. He was observing you while you folded laundry, and would purposely brush his hands with yours when you handed a new article of clothing to him. You were washing dishes practically attached at the hip. It took you a good hour to get all of the housework done. Of course, it would’ve gone much smoother if Mat wasn’t sitting on counters like a cat, mind, counters that you were trying to clean.

“Yay, you’re finally done!” Mat cheered, climbing towards you from the end of the bed, gently tugging your pants off. He kissed up your calves, and breathed in deeply once he got to your hips. He let the sigh out, and got to work on treasuring your legs and thighs.

You took a deep breath, and got distracted in thought for a moment. Mat always treated you like, well a queen. Waking up in the morning to cook before he goes down to the shop, and letting you try new recipes. He even let you go back into the kitchen to tour it once. Although, Pablo headbanging wasn’t what you intended on seeing. Nevertheless, you wouldn’t take it back for anything. Mat’s wonderful, and he made sure everything was as it should be. Well, most times at least. It gave you a warm, fuzzy feeling, and you came back to the realm of reality where Mat was finishing his rounds, fingers threading a trail to your underwear.

He also tugged those off, and without a second thought, your legs spread further, and Mat gently kissed along your slit, then using his fingers to separating your labia. Your head sat back on the pillow as his tongue made itself familiar with you once more. His hands came up to hold your hips to his face, and you had half a mind to squeeze his head with your thighs. Tiny, lewd noises filled the once-quiet space as Mat went to town on your pussy, like he hadn’t eaten in days (thats a lie, he ate you out during a work call the night before). His nose gently nudged your clit, and you gasped. He smiled against you as one of his fingers came to toy with it, rubbing gentle circles. You sighed at his touch, but then the fucker began teasing.

His tongue would get within centimeters of your clit before retreating back down. You were very tempted to reach down to hold his head where you wanted. You thought it out for 0.5 seconds before reaching down and gently pressing his head into your sex, adjusting your hips as to where they’re slightly off the bed. He looked up at you, glaring, as he let you have your way with his head...for the time being at least.

He lapped at your excretions, almost disgustingly so, but every noise that come from below further fueled the fire. The burning, aching fire in the pit of your gut that wanted nothing more than to absolutely be ruined by (or to ruin) your lover, as well as the bedsheets that you’d been occupying. For short moments of time, you focused on the feeling of his dreads on your thighs before another intrusion made you gasp out loud, making your hips stutter against Mat’s face, losing their up and down motion. Mat’s fingers were more than skilled at getting where they needed to be, and as you felt them (yes, them, he works quick) scissor into you. Your walls contracted when he moved his mouth over your clit, sucking roughly. Those fucking sounds drove you over multiple waves, but the big one was yet to arrive. You were getting extraordinarily close, and on extremely short notice. You couldn’t make head nor tail of Mat’s fingers or his tongue. All you knew was more and more pressure right where you wanted. The flat of his tongue just needed to move like an inch to the left-

oh jesus fucking christ~

Your legs squeezed around Mat’s face as you came, and you screamed to the heavens, head thrown back. Angelic, almost, except maybe God won’t let you in for this moment, right here in particular. Mat came back up with the bottom half of his face covered in slick, eyes blown with lust.

“Every time you properly give me an orgasm, I swear 5 extra years get added to my life.” you mumble, catching your breath.

“Mm, and well deserved. You taste so fucking good, I need even more time to cherish you.” he replied, shedding his shirt.

You admired him from your spot on the bed for a short moment before the sex gremlin in your brain leaned forward, urging you to kiss your partner. He reciprocated, and his arm found its way back around your body as the two of you made out. Mat’s hard-on pulsed against your thigh, even through those fucking boxers, you thought, as Mat detached from the kiss, moving his way to your neck. He nipped at a few spots, and kissed over your clavicle before finally taking off his last article of clothing, and you contracted once more upon realizing that this man, truly was yours. He wouldn’t be this tender and caring with anyone he found (on second thought, mans does have horrible anxiety, so-). But no, he usually wouldn’t eat out some stranger, then ask them what their favorite surprise flavors in cupcakes are. He wouldn’t carry them to bed after their day was too exhausting to even want to life another finger. He wouldn’t come over and smoke, and talk over records with just anyone.

“I know you’re thinking about something. Come on, my penis is a simple being, it’s not a deity.” Mat says, chuckling afterwards.

“Right... let me just call the pp doctor real quick. In reality, I was thinking about how good you are to me. But please, do feel free to stick it in, I’m waiting sir.” you reply, letting Mat line himself up before he gently sheathed himself in you, causing your head to tip back once more. Mat also let out a beautiful, guttural noise of his own, furthering your own want for him to fuck your brains out.

Mat gently pulled back before starting a decent pace, making sure to let you adjust where needed, and tucking his head into your neck. You looked over to his back, and stare at his ass before deciding to actually focus on the pleasure you were experiencing in that moment. Your hands rested on his back as you gently clenched and unclenched, thinking of nothing more than being absolutely wrecked and fucked out by Mat, letting your thoughts wander to the dirtiest, most filthy parts of your brain. Once you were done practically creaming at the thought of being ruined, Mat groaned against your neck. He was almost whimpering, and beads of sweat formed on his forehead, and his muscles gleamed in the sunlight, which peeked through the blinds.

You just so happened to look down at where Mat was slamming into you, and it was such a wonderful thing to see. There was cream practically streaming out of you, and the spot underneath you was soaked, a good sized puddle of release surrounding your bottom. Mat wasn’t even fully pulling out anymore. That didn’t even matter though, he just felt so good. Too fucking good. The sound of him fucking you into the mattress was so good. So much better than the toy in the bedside drawer. It worked wonders, true, but my god, Mat did you so well. Could never hold candle to him. Mat was getting louder, and the almost full-bladder feeling built inside of you, but that was for another time. Although, the sheets can’t possibly be ruined any further. Anyway, Mat was about to fucking mating press you into the goddamn mattress.

You clenched, and gasped loudly as Mat hit that one spot. The definite, all-in spot that made you see stars when tapped correctly. Your nails dug into Mat’s back, much to his liking, and he drilled you into the mattress, legs held by his hands, and all thoughts thrown out of the window. He was openly praising you, how good and tight you felt, and how he wanted to *shudders* fill you up while he gently, but somehow so roughly made love to you. A few more loud moments passed, and you ground your hips upwards, making sure that somehow, you remained dominant in your own sense. Mat sped up impossibly, hips moving like a blur into you. He reached his end, and cried out, hips pressed directly into yours as he came. His eyes were closed, but he looked so fucking good, head thrown back, chest glistening with sweat. He collapsed next to you, breathing heavily. You contemplated getting up, but Mat always got a smidge clingy after his orgasms, so you were you wrapped your arms around him, in an odd sideways hug. Minutes passed, and you were fighting sleep, and resisting the urge.

Once you were almost out, you heard a muffled noise from besides you.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.” you muttered. Mat moved his head from the pillow and said something very honest.

“I want you to sit on my face. You didn’t get a chance to orgasm again, and I want you to have as lovely of a experience as I did.” he replied, and you were a deer in headlights for a moment. A very aware deer, but like sir, I need some reference. Don’t tell me to pop, lock, and drop it on your face right after I just held my legs in one spot for like 30 minutes.

“Fucking get to it then.” you purred, hips hovering above his face

He waited only seconds to begin absolutely devouring you, nose buried in your pussy. You barely even had to move your hips, as was getting into every spot you needed him to perfectly. His tongue seemed to move a mile a minute, getting all of the best places it could find. You were afraid of what was to happen if he was too quick. Poor thing would need a good five minutes of warning. You fully let go of the tension in your body, and let Mat work his magic, hands holding onto your ass extremely tight, sure to leave bruises.

You screamed when he landed a slap to your ass, harder than usual, and you were just moments away from another wonderful climax. At this moment in time, you wished that you had a mirror on the top of your bed, so that way, you could see everything. It would be so perfect for so many tender moments in time. Or less tender, more rough and “chile, we shoulda got the roast out at 4:45, but it’s 5:25 moments”

Your brain just go happened to think about looking down, and Mat’s blissed out face, mildly flushed in comparison to other moments. You moved your hips just one touch to the right, and it caused you to orgasm on his face. Quite messily for an observer’s eye. Yeahhh, you should’ve warned him about that. Mat wiped his face off, and smiled, kissing your thigh as you fell to the opposite side of the bed. You laughed it off, and almost immediately knocked out.

“You could’ve told me about that, y’know.” Mat said, the next morning. He was brushing his teeth, and preparing to open The Coffee Spoon up for the morning.

“It would’ve ruined the fun. Who doesn’t like a bit of spice added to their coffee, hmm?” you retorted, watching as his eyes drifted over to yours in a somewhat happy, somewhat “oh my god, the fucking nerves of that pun” way.

No matter, because there would be a lot more surprises where that came from.

Mat, for reference:

Masterlist

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