#So all those little thoughts are left to steam and die in his head | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flametrashiraarchive · 9 months

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Hi! Me again lol. If we're limited to how much we can ask you don't have to answer. I was wondering if you could do Giyuu x Y/N who was also a hashira but after the final battle. They're finally able to be together and months later find out they're expecting. It can be SFW or NSFW. If you're not comfortable with this I totally understand.

-☀️

Yes! Happy endings ftw.

I thought it would be cute to have this be part of the bathhouse pieces just for the sake of a throwaway joke, but this reader is specifically AFAB so please ignore it if that's not for you. It's the Bathing with Giyuu Multiverse.

I’m really sorry it doesn’t really include the pregnancy part (I alluded to it but they’re really difficult for me to write about sometimes) but I hope the love between Giyuu and you makes up for it.

This piece does contain slight spoilers for the end of the Demon Slayer manga so be warned! (spoilers from here on out!)

Also, I refuse to accept that the thing with the mark and how much time he has left is canon. It’s too sad so it doesn’t happen. You and Giyuu are gonna grow old together.

I hope you like it!!

AFTERMATH

Giyuu Tomioka x F!reader. NSFW.

Memories of your fallen comrades haunt you long after the rubble is cleared away. Nightmares of what befell those you care about wake you when you finally do manage to drift off. The scent of battle lingers on your skin for weeks. Smoke, blood, and death. No matter how many times you've tried to wash it off it clings to you.

Which is why you find yourself traipsing to the onsen in the darkness, your katana still grasped firmly in your hand, because you still can't quite believe that it's over. The battle is won, and the world is safe.

You can relax in the onsen completely safe and completely alone–

"You're kidding me?!"

Giyuu stares at you, half submerged in the steaming water, his expression one of wide-eyed surprise. But once he sees it's you, his face softens again. "Ah… is it time for our annual awkward bath together?"

You laugh for the first time in days. Giyuu has always been a little less guarded around you, but since the fight ended, he has been far more open. He's funny. Peace looks good on him.

"Do you mind if I get in?" You ask, "It's not like we haven't seen everything already."

He shakes his head. "I don't mind. We've been through hell and back together, this is nothing."

"Yeah…"

"Should I turn around?" he asks.

Oh Giyuu. Even after everything you’ve been through together; the battles, the quiet moments, the nights you spent together early on where you promised it was just once to get it out of your systems, and the times later when you both agreed you could die at any moment so why the hell not. Even after all that, he’s still a perfect and slightly awkward gentleman.

Your breath shivers as you slip off your yukata in answer and those deep blue eyes of his drink you in.

He stands, gazing up at you with his lips slightly parted. It'll take some time to get used to the sight of him without his right arm, and no doubt it'll take him even longer than that. But he's alive. You both made it. You survived.

He wades toward you and offers you his hand, helping you step down into the water. His eyes never leave you. Yours never leave him. And you both just stand there, the water only up to your hip, laid bare before each other in this newly peaceful world.

You no longer smell smoke, blood, or death. Giyuu’s scent is soft, clean rain, washing over you and carrying the horrors away.

His smile is so soft and serene your heart aches.

A muscle in his cheek flexes before he speaks. "I didn't lose you," he says, as though the fact is only just sinking in, as if he'd mourned you even before the battle had even begun and is only just allowing himself to believe you’re really there, that you really survived.

It’s a feeling you know well.

A slow smile lifts his lips, his eyes meeting yours, his sapphire gaze filled with unending tenderness. You reach up to caress his cheek and melt as he closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

"We made it, Giyuu."

"We did," he says, his voice so quiet and calm. "I should have told you this before the battle, but I was afraid to because I thought telling you would mean you wouldn't make it. Like I’d put a curse on you or something. And if you don't feel the same–"

"I love you."

His eyes widen a little, but soften a heartbeat later. He chuckles. "Yeah… yeah, you took the words out of my mouth."

"I've wanted to tell you that for the longest time."

"Me too.' He dips his chin, pressing his forehead to yours as a quiet laugh of relief emerges from him. With your heart fluttering, you close your eyes and just enjoy the sensation, and the quiet intimacy of being loved by Giyuu.

His lips hover so close to yours, gentle breaths fanning over your skin. Your heart aches with need for him as you tilt your face toward him to bring your lips closer.

He closes the gap, his kiss as light as gossamer, sending your heart into a frenzy. The kiss is so gentle it's almost painful, the fluttering in your chest more than you can bear. It shivers through every fiber of your body, more potent than any breathing technique as every cell in your body seems to sigh his name.

Giyuu. You're alive. We made it, and we can finally let ourselves love.

Little by little, the kiss deepens until Giyuu's tongue is caressing yours. His lips are soft and oh-so gentle, stirring up the butterflies in your belly. You open your eyes, seeking reassurance that this isn’t all just some dream. The intimate sight of him causes your heart to leap; his eyes are closed, his pretty dark lashes resting on his pink-dusted cheeks, so peaceful in that moment you can’t believe this is the same world which demanded so much sacrifice.

He skates his hand down to the curve of your lower back, gently pulling you closer until your bodies are flush with each other. The rise and fall of his chest staggers against yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him, bathed in moonlight and the rising steam of the onsen. And though the battle only took place in one tiny pocket of the world, it feels as though you are clinging to each other among the wreckage, even here surrounded by serenity.

As much as you crave each other, you take your time and love one another slowly, washing each other with all the tenderness the world couldn’t spare you until now. You sit with your back to him as he washes your hair, his fingers deftly moving over your scalp, making goosebumps pebble along your thighs. He bows his head and weaves a cloak of kisses across your back and shoulders, making sure not to leave a single inch of you feeling unloved.

And then, when you’ve both washed away what you needed to, he takes your hand and leads you back to his home; a big, empty house waiting to be filled with the family and the love he never even allowed himself to believe he could have. The comforting scent of him lingers in the house and you feel as though you never want to leave. He doesn’t want you to go either.

Moonlight shines through the windows, casting silver light over the pair of you as you lie together in Giyuu’s bed, lost once more in tender kisses. The relief and love, the guilt of survival, the way your mind can’t quite slip fully out of fight mode… It’s overwhelming. He notices the moment your tears start to fall.

“Love… it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking them away with his thumb and you know he understands completely.

“We’re allowed to be happy, aren’t we?”

He smiles softly, and nods. “Yeah… we are.”

His breath is hot against your skin as he trails kisses over your jaw, down your throat, and to your chest. When his lips reach the top of your breast he pauses, lays down his head and closes his eyes, listening to your heart’s rhythm and your breathing with a quiet sigh. You know this will go on for a while; that no matter how often you reassure each other that this is real, that you both made it, that it’s okay for you to love each other, some part of you both will always question.

Because since when has the world ever been this kind?

“Can I love you forever?” he asks softly. “Is that okay?”

Your fingers thread through his soft black hair as he kisses down your stomach. “Please, Giyuu… please do.”

He brings you simple solace with the wet heat of his mouth. He settles between your thighs, eyes closed, lapping at your tender flesh with his fingers interlaced with yours. Soft and slow and so loving your heart can barely take it. He tastes every inch of you, drawing comfort from your sighs and the way you gasp his name. A groan emerges from him as you bear down on his tongue, grinding yourself against his gentle mouth. And only then does he quicken his pace, giving you what you need to drive you over the edge and plunging into ecstasy.

You can’t help but laugh a little as he raises his head to gaze at you. Giyuu always has the haziest, prettiest expression when he’s drunk on your pussy, and the war hasn’t changed that one bit. His cheeks are flushed pink, his lips glossy with your slick arousal.

He gets back onto the bed, lying face-to-face beside you and guides your thigh over his waist, angling his hips so he can enter you. He sets a languid rhythm, kissing you the entire time, his cock only entering you halfway so he can make it last as long as possible. He fought through hell to be here with you and he’s going to make sure he cherishes every second.

“You’re… so wet…” he gasps against your lips.

You try to bite back a grin and fail. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you fuck the water hashira.”

Giyuu’s composure breaks and he laughs–really laughs–resting his forehead against your chest. “I love you.”

Gods, what a world this is; that you get to love him, that you have the luxury of time to stop and laugh together in the middle of sex. Giyuu has such an adorably boyish laugh too; one which crinkles his nose and shakes his shoulders. It’s a sound you want to hear a billion times more over the course of your life and a sight you will never tire of.

“I love you too, Giyuu. I always will.”

He’s still chuckling until he rolls you onto your back and presses himself deeper, wiping the smiles from both your faces as pleasure drowns out your amusement. The delicious stretch pulls a groan from you, and when he starts to roll his hips you can’t help but cry out. The control he has over his body is breathtaking, and the loss of his arm doesn’t hinder him at all as he has you wrap your legs around his waist and fucks you hard and deep, filling the room with the lewd symphony of slapping flesh and your wanton cries.

Every time before, he has pulled out of you, both of you unwilling to bring a child into the world when each tomorrow was so precarious. But now he presses deeper, his eyes alight with new possibility, and love like he never allowed himself to believe in. He groans as he fills you, resting his head between your breasts and listening to the thundering rhythm of your heart as you wrap your arms around him and hold him through his orgasm.

And then you lie together in the aftermath; just you and Giyuu at the end and the beginning of it all.

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midnight-talescape · 6 months

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𝒮𝑒𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓉 (𝐵𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝐹𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 𝑀𝒾𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓁 𝒪’𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶 𝓍 𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑜 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)

Kinktober Day 26: Masturbation + Overstimulation

Reverse au where your the hero and Miguel is your best friend

Im skipping so many of these lol.

Warning: tentacles, miguel watch you masturbate without you knowing, etc, etc you get the point not for kid

Genre: filthy filthy smut

Word Count: 2331

｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

Miguel groaned as he got ready to turn off his screen to retire for the night. The nightly patrol already finished and you were safe and didn't suffer from any injuries.

He didn't like the fact that you were spending the majority of your night patrolling the city and he couldn't do anything to help you.

At least not as much as he wanted, only being able to be your tech guy and making sure all your missions happened as safely as possible.

He should be glad that you told him the second you got bit convinced you were on your way to die and told him to prepare for your funeral. Otherwise, he wouldn't even be able to help you as the tech guy.

He really did consider telling you to stop after seeing you get thrown into a wall a few times. You were more important to him than anything else, but you blatantly rejected that advice and commented on how he would have done the same if he was the one bitten.

Begrudgingly he agreed, you guys both know each other too well.

Sighing again he sat in his chair and started closing off the screen, suddenly he froze when he heard your muffled voice through the screen.

Shit, they must have forgotten to turn off the video transmitter on their wrist…

He should have expected this from you, always so forgetful and careless.

He should turn off the video link from his side, before telling you tomorrow and tease you for being so careless.

But instead, he found himself pulling up your screen and turning up the volume.

He watched you intently as you moved around in your room clearly tired out of your mind from the nightly patrol.

Your eyes droopy and your hair a complete mess, yet somehow you still look perfect. Even your little yawn as you grabbed a loose shirt and headed to the bathroom was adorable. Reminding him painfully of how much he already missed you and that he’s just your best friend.

Wait the bathroom?

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he realized that you were on your way to take a shower before sleeping.

I really should turn off the video now…

Instead, Miguel watched in fascination as you stripped off your outfit and tossed it to the floor. The sight of your bare body made him feel things he shouldn't feel…

Feeling guilty, he adjusted his camera and mic feed to ‘manual only mode’ so it wouldn’t be triggered by any sound or movement.

As you began to shower the steam made it hard for the camera to focus, but his imagination more than filled in the blank for him.

Miguel continued to watch you in his feed till you stepped out, drying yourself off with a towel. He felt like a creep as he watched you, but he couldn’t help himself.

As you dry yourself off you take a break to look into the mirror. Opening your mouth you licked over your incisor, making sure they’re sharp and in good condition.

As he looked at your bare body, now in complete focus from how close you were standing near where you left your watch. He can feel himself getting flustered as he stares at your soft curve, wondering how it will feel to have you bite into his body with those sharp teeth of yours. Also making a mental note to tell you to wear something immediately after showering to not catch a cold later.

Pulling on a loose t-shirt and a pantie you quickly leave the bathroom to flop onto your bed, grabbing the watch with you while you're at it.

Having already misplaced it several times in the past.

Miguel let out a sigh as he watched you bury yourself in your bed.

He felt slightly guilty at the fact that he was spying on you, but he also couldn't help wondering how you would look curled up in his arms. How you would look at his hand explore yo-

Stopping his train of thought Miguel let out a large groan, this is going too far. He needs to stop, he was your best friend nothing more nothing less.

Miguel moved his hand to close off your video screen before stopping.

Just a few more minutes, to make sure they’re okay and asleep…

But he knows he’s just lying and looking for excuses.

After a while you suddenly sat up, your face flushed and your breathing erratic. You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears and your body burning up from the inside.

You open the blind to check outside and let out a frustrated groan when you see the blood moon shining down on you.

Miguel noticed your frustration as he began mentally searching for why you were acting like this.

You have mentioned that your power comes with side effects. You never mentioned what they are, only brushing it off and saying that it has something to do with the moon cycles.

Before he could delve deeper into his thoughts he noticed you pulling a box out from under your bed.

Miguel was curious about what could possibly be in the box. Obviously, something that will help you and your side effects, maybe a serum of some sort? He zoomed in on you wanting to know exactly what was happening.

You let out a stream of curses as you pulled a dildo out of the box.

You weren't happy with the fact you had to use it, you didn't like the fact that you’re losing control, but it's just something you have learned to live with. A necessary evil is what you like to call it.

Miguel's brain has been in overdrive since he saw you pull out the dildo.

The erratic breathing, flushed body, your irritation, and the dildo all pointed to one conclusion.

You were in heat.

The side effect of your power is you go into heat whenever there's a blood moon.

You sat on the floor not wanting to dirty your bed, before spreading your legs and getting ready to prep yourself.

Miguel couldn't take his eyes off the screen, enthralled by the sight of you and the way you seemed to be losing control of yourself to your heat.

You pulled down your panties and gently touched your sensitive fold. As you suspected it was already wet, some lube would probably be ideal at this exact moment, but you decided that was too much of a hassle and you just wanted to get it over with.

Biting down on your lip, trying to hold back any noise you will be making as you slip two fingers inside you. Your body is rigid as you thrust in and out of yourself roughly, moan and whimper escaping from you.

As Miguel listened to your soft moan he could feel himself getting harder. He was breaking your trust just by watching you, but his thoughts wander, and wonder how you will feel if instead of your fingers it was his cock pounding into you. Fucking you stupid as you desperately called out his name.

Pulling down his sweatpants and boxer he gripped his hardened erection in his hand. Making a tight circle with his fist as he begin to fuck into his fist, his eyes not leaving the screen as he watched your shaking form.

Your body was sensitive from the heat so it didn’t take long for you to cum onto the floor. Letting the feeling wash over you, you closed your eyes as you removed your now sticky and wet fingers.

You let out a sob as you felt a wave of heat coming over you, a single orgasm wasn't enough, you needed more. You could barely stand and you fumbled as you grabbed the dildo on the ground. Your body tensed as you slowly pushed it inside you.

Miguel's hands were clenched into tight fists, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watched the scene unfold on screen. The sight of your legs trembling as you thrust the dildo inside you, your fingers slipping as you tried to reinsert the dildo, made his body tremble with need.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen as you moaned, your skin glistening with sweat. His fingers gripped his cock tightly, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body as he imagined himself filling you to the brim, your tight walls clamping down on him as he thrust inside you.

You cried out as another orgasm took you by surprise, but even as your body convulsed with pleasure it wasn't enough the heat was unrelenting threatening to tear you apart with need.

Sobbing you let go of the dildo before letting your power take full control of the situation.

Sensing your control over them loosening, the tentacles that normally hid within your shadow burst out and tighten around your limb, making sure you can't get away till the heat cycle is over.

Two tentacles spread your leg apart, as another one grabs ahold of the dildo and begins thrusting it in and out of you roughly.

Miguel watched as the tentacles assaulted your body, your fingers digging into your skin as the dildo pounded against your sopping wet folds. Your body shook and trembled with the force of the tentacles pounding into you.

Your cheeks flushed, your eyes glassy with lust and need as you writhed beneath the tentacles. Their thrusts became wild, as your fingers claw at the floor beneath you, the sensations threatening to consume you whole.

Your body continued to tremble, as though begging for more, the tentacles refused to release their grip on you, every thrust becoming more intense, every moan more desperate.

“S-stop, slower, guys p-please!” You sobbed out, your body trembling as you climaxed again,

Miguel panted as he watched the tentacles keep their fast pace pounding into you. His heart pounded in his chest, a bitter taste of envy filling his mouth as he watched the tentacles continue to ravage you. The desire to take their place threatened to consume him.

With trembling hands, Miguel ran his thumb against the tip. His gaze remained locked on the screen as he gripped his cock tightly, he can feel his climax coming as he watch your shaking body.

Suddenly your eyes widen and you let out a whine as you felt your tentacle wrapped around the dildo, before pulling it out violently. The tentacle unhappy with how the pace was going, dived into your cunt replacing the dildo as they filled you up to the brim.

Miguel could barely contain himself as he watch your cunt being filled by the tentacles, his cock twitched as jealousy consumed him. His mind filled with desperate fantasies of him dominating you, your tight, wet cunt wrapped around his cock milking him dry as you cried out his name.

His body was trembling and all Miguel could think about was you, your body, and your moans.

You were like a drug and he was an addict, needing more and more of you every second that he watched you.

The way you cried and moaned, the way the tentacles ignored your pleas and demands and used you like an object.

They were using you, just like the way Miguel wanted to use you. He wished he could've been the one fucking into you, the one driving you deep into this cycle of lust and desire.

You let out a scream as you were brought to another climax. Your body was overstimulated and in pain, as the tentacles finally left your body with a wet pop, before laying you on the floor trembling.

Miguel's heart raced in his chest as he watched your shaking form, your body trembling and shaking from the intense orgasm that had just taken you. You were a fucking mess, your eyes glazed over, saliva and tears dripping down your face.

He couldn't stop himself from fantasizing about what it would be like to join you in your heat, thrusting into you until the very end of the cycle. His fingers continued to stroke his fisted cock, his mind incapable of breaking away from the thought of using you to satiate his own unrelenting, insatiable needs.

The image of your writhing body beneath him, your climaxes echoing in his ears as he drove himself into you seemed like a fantasy that could become reality at any moment.

With a loud groan, he reached his climax, his cum splattering onto the screen in front of him, making it look like he was covering you with his cum.

Groaning he felt his cock hardening again in his hand at the sight.

He watched as the tentacles wrapped around you again and took you to the shower to wash you off.

As he watched the tentacles cleaned you off, gently washing your abused and puffy cunt. You let out a little moan as they cleaned you, sending Miguel into a deeper spiral.

The tentacles place you into bed and gently tuck you in, despite the brutality they put you through and allowing you to fall asleep, your body thoroughly abused by them.

Miguel continued to watch, his desire for you only growing as he saw you tucked into bed. His desire for you was like a fire inside him, burning and burning with every passing second.

The way you were so soft and vulnerable in that moment drove Miguel to madness, his heartbeat erratic as he gripped his cock again. He needed to hold you, to kiss you, to touch you.

You looked so soft and vulnerable, so helpless and pure. He wanted that for himself, he wanted to be the one to tuck you in like that and to kiss you goodnight.

As you fall asleep, Miguel saves the recording before pulling it back up again.

This was going to be a long night…

#no i don’t have problems #reader insert #reader smut #x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel smut #miguel x y/n

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corrieguards · 1 year

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Commander Mayday x reader Summary: Mayday gets rescued and reunited with his lover back on Coruscant, who brings him home and helps him get cleaned up. Word count: 1,7k C/W: sexually suggestive themes, but no explicit smut, slight angst, overall fluff. A/N: this man deserved so much more, so this is my way of making myself feel better about it. Also, thinking about a smuttier pt.2? Idk, let me know what you guys think <3

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The last few months had been some of the roughest ones in his whole life, and that was saying a lot for a clone.

He’d lived through a whole war, witnessing countless battles and gruesome deaths. But nothing quite compared to spending endless days on a freezing planet, watching his men, his brothers slowly die off one by one and being completely helpless in doing anything to stop it.

They had spent years fighting for the Republic. They had fought tooth and nail time and again, to save lives, to give the galaxy a chance at a better life, while having no real hope of actually living in said galaxy as recognized citizens. They had done their job, the job that nobody else wanted to do, and yet what did they get in return?

Left stranded on some planet with no communications or supplies. Completely forgotten and tossed aside. Left to die.

But that was over, he had to keep reminding himself of that fact. He’d survived, and he should be thankful for that.

He’d come across a contact that helped clones who wanted out, right back at the beginning of the empire's start. At first he resisted using it, simply storing it away as a ‘just in case’. He’d held on for as long as he could, telling himself that he was a clone, this is what he was made for and he should be able to deal with it.

But with the death of Hexx and Veetch, the last of his men gone, he finally snapped.

Not even a few hours after he’d sent out the message, he’d been rescued and was in a ship on his way back to Coruscant.

One of the first things they’d asked him was if he had any contacts, any people he could get in touch with for help. Your name instantly popped into his head. He'd hesitated but, what other option did he have? It's not like he had any other civvies to run too.

So he gave them your comm number, one he could recite by heart, and hoped upon hope that you hadn’t changed it since he’d last seen you all those months ago.

—-

You recognised him instantly. It was like the world stopped, your ears ringing and eyes blurring with tears. Despite his overgrown hair and beard, you would recognise your favourite commander anywhere.

When you first got the comm you had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren't dreaming. Mayday, your sweet handsome Mayday was alive, and back here on Coruscant.

The comm was quick, hurried, secretive. It was directing you to some place in the lower levels, so naturally your second thought was to think this whole ordeal was a little too sketchy for your liking.

But the possibility of bringing Mayday home won you over the fear. And kriff we're you glad it did.

He was sitting on a crate, quietly sipping from the steaming mug held between his hands. It was really him. He was right there.

“Mayday?”

Immediately his head shot up, eyes searching frantically, the mug being dropped carelessly on the floor when he finally spotted you.

He was already running towards you when you rushed to meet him, his body slamming into you so hard you had to take a couple steps back to avoid falling over. You felt your throat burn as tears of relief ran down your cheeks. His smell, the same smell you had craved on countless lonely nights, was filling your senses as you clutched on to him for dear life.

His arms were squeezing you so hard you were finding it difficult to breathe, but you couldn't care less right now. The only thoughts running through your head were He’s safe. He’s back. He’s home.

Pressing you face into his chest you sobbed as he rocked you gently, pressing a watery kiss to your head and whispering into your hair “I thought I’d never see you again meshla”

You pulled back just enough to press your lips to his, him returning the kiss in earnest, brows furrowed and hand cupping the back of your head. You could taste the salty mix of both your tears.

Finally pulling back you laid a hand on his cheek stroking his beard and smiling teasingly before letting out a soft giggle

“Well, this is new”

He chuckled, tilting his head and smiling sheepishly “Yeah.. Not my best look I know"

You hummed brushing a thumb over his cheekbone before standing up on your tippy toes and pressing a tender kiss where your thumb had been.

“Actually I kinda like it. It suits you” you admitted, smiling lovingly at him. He huffed out a laugh, ducking down to peck your lips again. Squeezing him one more time you finally separated, hand still firmly clasped in his as you dragged him towards your speeder.

“C’mon trooper, let’s get you home."

—-

He looked extremely out of place in your cosy apartment, standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room. Everything had been happening so fast and he still hadn’t had a chance to clean himself or his armour and he was too scared to touch anything.

“Hey” you spoke up softly when he still hadn’t settled down “What are you doing silly? Sit down. Make yourself comfortable. You know it’s as much your home as mine”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck before his gaze flicked up to you nervously “Sorry I just don't want to get anything dirty. I’m- well I'm absolutely filthy” he chuckled nervously

Your eyes widened, mentally face palming yourself “Oh kriff I’m so sorry I completely forgot”

“It’s okay-” he started but you were already rushing over and dragging him down the hall way toward the bathroom.

He watched while you rushed about, opening the cupboard and carefully picking out the fluffiest towel, pushing it into his arms.

“Here, you can shower for as long as you want. Just chuck your armour and blacks outside the door and I’ll get them cleaned up for you, okay?”

You pressed a quick kiss to his nose, smiling and stroking his cheek softly before turning and heading out to give him some privacy. But he grabbed your wrist, stopping you and pulling you back around. You gave him a questioning look as he hesitated, glancing around nervously before speaking up.

“I um… I was actually hoping we could shower together?”

"Oh" your lips parted in surprise and he quickly let go of your wrist and hurriedly added

“Unless you don't want to. That’s fine too."

“No, no of course I do. I- I would love to actually” you immediately took a step back into the bathroom and he smiled, pulling you closer to give you a kiss on the forehead.

“Thank you" he whispered against your skin, his beard tickling you and making you giggle

“No need for thank yous Mayday"

"I know" he cups your cheek "But I want to"

You turn your head slightly, pressing a kiss to his palm “Do you need some help with the armour?‘“

When he nodded in response you immediately set about carefully untying the many knots, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as you unravelled all the cloths surrounding his armour. He watched you carefully, loving eyes following your every move as you dumped the filthy wraps on the floor, kicking them outside the door.

Then you moved onto the armour plates, gently removing them with practised hands. You’d done this so many times before, it was comforting to do your little routine once again.

Mayday was thoroughly enjoying watching you as well. He had seen you do it countless times but it never got old. The concentration and gentle patience you exuded was something that filled him with the urge to pepper kisses all over you.

Gentle and methodical. Just like he remembered.

Putting everything in a neat pile when you finished, you turned and smiled when you saw him watching you.

“What?"

“Nothin’” he lazily lifted a single shoulder in a shrug "Just enjoying the view"

You shook your head affectionately "Smooth as ever I see"

"I try" he grinned. "The fact you're so beautiful helps a lot."

"Oh... I see someone's become quite the charmer while he was away" you tease making him scoff

"I've always been charming. I dunno what you're talkin' about"

Patting his chest gently you chuckled "How 'bout you stop teasing, get those blacks off and we can finally get you cleaned up?”

Smiling but complying, he slowly peeled them off as you started stripping your own clothes. He gave you a slow up and down, stupid smile on his face as he took in your bare body. Damn.

He let out a low whistle, making you scoff and raise an eyebrow at him playfully.

"You missed me that much, huh?"

"You have no idea" he groaned, pulling you into his chest. His hand splayed across the small of your back .

"Thought about you all the time. Especially on the extra lonely nights" he winked cheekily, making you laugh.

"Are you flirting with me, Commander? Or... are you just trying to get in my pants?"

He glanced down at your naked form before looking back up at your face "I'd say I've already got that one guarantied."

You rolled your eyes “Yeah yeah, whatever. There'll be plenty of time for that later”

He smirked, leaning in closer “Oh really?”

“Mhm” you teased him, hand slowly dragging up his chest

"I like the sound of that” he murmured, hand slowly dragging further down and giving your ass a light squeeze, making you giggle, his smile immediately widening at the sound.

"Kriff, you have no idea how much I missed that laugh."

Blush spreading across your face, you took his hand in your own and dragged him into the shower.

“C'mon, we’re gonna get you cleaned up. Then-" you pointed a finger at him accusingly "and only then, we can have some more… fun”

He chuckled, pressing an adoring kiss to your hairline and purring against your skin “Yes, ma’am”

---

tag-list: @mirshebs-meshla @nekotaetae @softsunburstlove @lucyysthings

join my tag-list

#my fics #commander mayday #mayday x reader #mayday tbb #tbb #clones

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howlingday · 8 months

Text

I'm in the mood for some slight angst at the moment, so how about a RWBY version of the Justice League's Identity Crisis, with Jaune being the one who gets mind wiped with a relic from trying to stop his friends?

He doesn't even realize anything's really wrong until he notices how his friends can barely meet his gaze anymore. Why do they look so guilty..?

It isn't until he meets a still traumatized Emerald that it all finally comes back to him...

---------------------------------------------------

Cinder Fall was in prison once more. Another job well done for Teams RWBY and JNRO. Victory like this calls for a celebration. Sure, things got messy when Hazel Rainart was dragged into the mix, but it all worked out in the end, right?

So why did Jaune feel so... off? And more importantly, why did Cinder look so... Well, angry couldn't begin to do what she felt justice. Something wasn't right, and it's when things aren't right that Jaune looks into it.

"Ruby, can we talk?"

"Uh, sure, Jaune." The two leaders left the party, with Yang cooing after them in a tease. "What's up?"

"Did Cinder seem..." Jaune struggled for the words, "...different to you?"

"Different?" Ruby put a finger to her chin. "Well, I wasn't expecting Hazel. She usually works solo."

"Yeah, she does." Jaune furrowed his brow. "But it's not just that. She looked at us like... Mm, I don't know. Like she hates us."

"Well, she is a bad guy."

"Yeah, but I mean HATES us. Like..." Jaune gave a grunt as he scratched his head. "Sorry, it's kinda hard to explain."

"It's fine." Ruby patted his shoulder. "Maybe the fight took a lot more out of us than we thought? Let's get back to the party and relax, okay?"

"Yeah." Jaune sighed. "Okay."

As the two moved back to the party, Blake leaned away from the wall. She mentally sighed in relief, only for a tightness to grow in her throat. It was only a matter of time.

..................................................................................

Cinder carved through her gloves into her cell wall. Her black talons dug into the solid concrete, though with little results because scuffing. All the while, she heaved heavy breaths that steamed out of her.

Those bastards. Those horrible, awful, evil bastards! She recognized how they grabbed Hazel as she attempted her escape. It was the only way they caught her! They held him in the exact same way she had been held years ago.

When she found Emerald. And she was alone once again.

..................................................................................

Emerald sobbed as she clung to Oscar. She felt so helpless. So pathetic. She wanted to die. She NEEDED to die!

But Oscar continued to hold her close. He watched as Nora stood between Jaune and Cinder's body. The horrible monster of a woman had been subdued, but Jaune lost himself and beat her into unconscious. Behind him, Ren was doing his best to calm Jaune's fury, righteous as it may have been.

"Is she... Are you okay?" Yang asked as she crouched near Emerald. She didn't reply beyond her already occurring sobs.

When Emerald was with Cinder, she had never so much as raise a hand to her. Sure, unkind words had been said now and then, but it never got physical. Nor did it get to a point of bruises, bleedings, and burns, either.

"I'll go let the others know what happened." Ruby said, satchel on side. "That way Cinder can never hurt anybody like this again." Receiving a nod from Weiss, Ruby left out the door.

"It won't do anything." Jaune huffed. "Cinder needs to die."

"Jaune-" Nora began.

"Look at what happened to Emerald!" Jaune shouted, making the girl quiet into soft mewls. "Cinder is a threat to not only us, but our families! I have sisters! Parents! I have a fucking nephew, a child who doesn't deserve this! Nobody deserves this!" He glared at the unconscious woman. "I say we put her down. Like the sick animal she is."

There was a tension in the air. Everyone glanced between one another, hoping someone would- could refute what Jaune said. But nothing.

"What if..." Oscar spoke up, looking from Emerald to Jaune. "What if there was another way?"

..................................................................................

"I'm heading out on patrol." Jaune told Ren. His friend didn't turn from the stove. Same as yesterday and the day before. Was he always like that? Jaune simply sighed and shrugged. "I'll be back later tonight."

Jaune made his way outside, down to the patrol house. Along the way, he saw Blake give him a glance, but nothing more. Not even a wave. Blake was distant, sure, but was she always that distant?

"It's not right!" Jaune looked over and saw two children bickering, toys in hand.

"It is so right!" The other child shouted back. She shoved her playmate. Nora then tackled Jaune to the floor.

Jaune shook his head. What was that? Was he seeing things?

He passed by the mechanic's shop. A car pulled in, a handsome teen grinning as he slapped the car door excitedly. As he pulled in, the car muffler gave a loud bang as it backfired. Yang dogpiled him, unloading a heated shell into his face.

Jaune felt his heart race as his teeth and fingers clenched. He'd sparred with Yang before, but it never got so heated. He shook his head as he hurried along to the patrol house. Maybe he could get medical help after patrol. After all, this wasn't anything serious.

The station was just down the street now. Hopefully, tonight wouldn't be too crazy. Nothing beyond vandals and "kids being kids". Hopefully there were a few donuts left from the morning.

There was a bell ring in front of him. It was the old pastry shop that him and Ruby liked to visit. However, neither exited the sweets store, though the patrons were familiar. Oscar was smiling as he and Emerald left. Sadly, the smiles fell as they saw Jaune.

Emerald looked at him like she was going to cry. Just like that night. Half of her faced was covered in faded scars. Just like that night!. Oscar had a look of fear in his eyes as he stood close to Emerald, as if shielding her. JUST LIKE THAT NIGHT!.

"Oscar?"

"Uh, y-yeah, Jaune?"

Emerald screamed as she dropped the box to the ground. Jaune lifted Oscar by his collar with blue eyes blazing. Oscar kicked in the air, but it did little to end his airborne status. Jaune glared into him.

"WHAT HAPPENED?"

#submission #rwby au #justice league #jaune arc #rwby #my submissions #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #blake belladonna #lie ren #oscar pine #emerald sustrai #identity crisis #dc #cinder fall

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evandarya · 2 years

Text

Pearls and Pomegranates

Chapter 2

{Read on AO3} {Chapter 1}

Tim stared at the back of Phantom's head as he bustled around the massive, cafeteria-style kitchen. He had ditched the cape and hood as soon as they left the throne room, and Tim couldn't forget how the garment dematerialized, just turned into frost as Phantom walked. Phantom looked much younger and less intimidating without it, but Tim could tell he was still powerful. He could see it in the lines of his shoulders how the king held himself as if balancing a heavy weight on his head.

Phantom turned around and placed two mugs with steaming milk on the counter between them and a glass jar of little brown pearls.

"It's hot chocolate from the Far Frozen." Phantom explained, placing a bead in each cup. "The Yetis make the best drinks, but their cooking leaves much to be desired."

Yetis? He had heard of yetis as myths, but they weren't real. He watched the pearl melt and turn the milk brown. He could smell the strong spiced chocolate scent from where he was sitting. "Where'd the milk come from?" Tim asked.

"Greece, circa 273 B.C.E.," Phanom said as he sat down opposite Tim.

Tim's eyes snapped up to the King's to find him grinning at him, small sharp fangs just visible past his lips. It was almost cute. Tim mentally shook himself from those thoughts. "You're serious. Are we in the past?"

"No, time in the Infinite Realms is weird, we exist at all times and no times. We have limited access to certain times through natural portals, so we stock up on essentials when we can." Phantom mixed his drink with a spoon and took a sip. "Drink. You'll feel better."

Tim took the cup, the warmth seeping into his hands even through his gloves, but didn't drink. His nanny had warned him about Fey's food and drink trapping you in the Fey realm.

"It isn't poisoned." Phantom said softly, "If that's what you're worried about."

Tim looked at Phantom again. "Actually, I was worried about it being bewitched, like fairy food."

Phantom laughed at that, full-bellied and deep. "I'm not a fairy or a wizard. But if you don't eat or drink something, you will die."

"The human body can live three weeks without food,” Tim replied stubbornly. His head was starting to pound from where he hit it on the stone floor when they arrived. He hoped he didn’t have a concussion.

"Not like that. More like…Have you seen Spirited Away?" Phantom said, running a gloved finger over the rim of his mug.

Tim blinked before nodding. Phantom has seen Spirited Away?

"So you know how Chihiro has to eat food from the Spirit Realm or she would fade away?” Tim nodded again. “It's like that. This place isn't good for the living, and eating the food here protects against it."

Tim looked back down at the mug of hot chocolate and took a sip; sweet sugar and bitter chocolate bloomed on his tongue, chased by cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, and clove. It was perfectly balanced against the creamy milk. Tim suspected it was more cream than milk. All at once, he felt the warmth of the drink reach down into his fingertips and toes, warming him from the inside. When he drained the last of the mug he felt more present, more aware than he had in days, and his head was pounding less insistently. Tim set his mug on the counter with a sigh, almost sad that it was gone. "I have questions."

"So do I," The king said, setting his own empty mug down. "How about we do one for one, you ask a question then I ask. So it's fair."

Tim thought about it. That did seem fair. "Why would you answer my questions?"

"I'm a king, not a tyrant," Phantom said quietly. "My turn, tell me about this cult that sent you here."

Tim shook his head. "That's not a question."

Phantom grinned again. "True. The cult that sent you here, what are they called?"

"The Acolytes of the One True King," Tim answered, watching as Phantom's face went through a series of emotions before settling on a blank, resigned mask. "You know them. Are they yours?"

"No!" Phantom spat bitterly. "They are servants of the previous king." Phantom waved his hand and a blue, ghostly light appeared with a soft "boo". "Wisp, gather the generals and send a scout to the Keep." With the orders given, the blue light bobbed up and down in what Tim figured was an imitation of a bow and disappeared. “Can you describe the ritual they were performing?”

“Yes,” Tim answered. When Phantom looked at him expectantly Tim raised one eyebrow. “Yes, I can describe the ritual. You didn’t ask me to describe it.” He was pushing his luck, he knew, but he needed to know Phantom’s temperament.

“Clever little birdie,” Phantom said with a grin. “It’s your turn.”

“Back in the throne room, you said something about this being Death’s realm. What did you mean by that?” Tim asked.

“The Infinite Realms is where the restless dead gather. Those who died tragically or with deep regrets spend their afterlife here. Death claimed this realm and everything in it as hers long ago.” Phantom said. “Now, describe the ritual the cult was using, please?”

“There was a twelve-point sigil on the floor in red,” Tim said, tracing the shape on the countertop. “With symbols placed here, here here, and here,” he said, tapping the spaces on his invisible drawing. “They had twenty-four women tied in pairs at each of the points of the sigil and one woman in the center,” Tim pointed at the center of the circle. Phantom hovered his hand over the spot and the invisible drawing lit up with green fire. Tim didn’t jump, he’d seen magic before. “The cultists were chanting something in a language I have never heard before,” he added as an afterthought.

“Would you recognize the symbols if you saw them again?” Phantom asked.

“That's two questions in a row, King Phantom,” Tim said. Phantom raised his head and looked at Tim through his snow-white fringe. “Yes. I would recognize them if I saw them again.”

“Then that is what we will do tomorrow.” Phantom wiped his hand across the symbol, extinguishing the green flame. “You have two questions.”

Tim swallowed. Something had shifted in the atmosphere, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. He had so many questions, but he wasn’t sure how much longer this conversation was going to continue. He had to make these questions count. “Are you going to keep me here forever?”

“No. I never intended to keep you here forever. I just don’t have the power to send you back right now,” Phantom said.

“When will you be able to send me back?” Tim asked. If there was a possibility of going home, he would take it.

Phantom studied him for a long moment before sighing. “We are cut off from the modern mortal realm and creating portals there takes a lot of power. I was only able to send Robin home because it is Samhain and the veil is thinner. The next time the veil thins will be Beltain in the spring.”

“That’s six months away!” Tim exclaimed.

“I know. I–” Phantom’s response was cut off by the wisp appearing again with the same soft ‘boo’. “I apologize, Red Robin. My generals are here. Wisp, show our guest to his room,” Phantom said before sweeping out of the kitchen, cape and hood re-materializing around his shoulders. The wisp bobbed up and down before circling Tim and heading toward the door and waiting for him to follow.

#pearls and pomegranates #danny phantom #danny fenton #batman #dc comics #tim drake #crossover #fanfic #brain dead

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thewritersaddictions · 4 months

Text

Day Fourteen: Steve Rogers + Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Christmas morning was beautiful. Snow glistens on the ground outside. Making all of New York look like a snow globe. Your winter pajamas that were just a bit too big for you hung loosely on your frame. Dragging pants legs as you walked and your arms rolled up to your wrists so you could actually use your hands.

The smell of coffee and fresh cinnamon rolls filled the air when you left your shared bedroom with Steve. The hunk of a man was standing in your kitchen shirtless, wearing only his sweatpants. That's what he gets for being a super soldier. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed your cheek into his warm back.

The sound of sizzles caught your attention as you looked over Steves's shoulder to see that he was cooking up eggs and toast popped from the toaster oven. The first words to be spoken were the exact words you heard every morning. "Your coffee is over there," Steve said warmly as he nudged his head toward your steaming cup.

"The parade is already on the TV if you wanna get comfy while I finish breakfast." You hummed as you brought the cup of coffee to your lips, took a deep breath, and sipped the hot liquid.

Once more, you move towards the living room with your pants dragging against the floor, and when you make it to the couch, you tuck your heels under your butt and get comfy as you bump up the volume to the tv before the parade starts.

Steve was there in just a jiffy. Handling two plates filled with eggs, bacon, and toast alongside a cinnamon roll. Your mouth watered at the smell immediately, and you dug in before getting the entire plate in your lap.

The parade started, and you watched with glee as you did each year. Even though you could simply look out your window and see the massive balloons dance on the ground. You'd rather watch it on the TV. A tradition you'd been participating in since you were a little kid.

By the time the parade was over, the sun was high in the sky, and the two of you were still not out of your night clothes. "Should we open gifts now?" Steve asks as he returns from the kitchen to drop off the dirty dishes. Your thoughts for a moment. You had gotten Steve a few things. Living in a New York apartment meant no lawn to take care of, but it did mean that your boyfriend was a builder. He loved putting together stuff and needed a new toolset for his motorcycle sitting in the parking deck below you.

"I think so. We should definitely do it before we have to leave for Stark's party." You say, wadding yourself up in the comfy and warm blanket. The snow starts to fall again, setting a most beautiful backdrop to the afternoon of Christmas. The wrapping paper litters the floor as you get deeper under the tree. Jewlery had been Steve's thing for you this year. A matching necklace to go with your matching earrings. A new set of pajamas. He had laughed when you pulled them out of the box. "A pair that will actually fit you love." He teased.

"So there's just one more gift for the both of us." You muttered as you pulled out a box with your name on it and a box with his name on it. Both names are written in perfect, pristine cursive. "I want to open mine first." Steve rushed to say, "Of course!" This is the one you were waiting for. "I'm sure you're going to like it." You mutter as you watch him tear through the wrapping paper.

"My…" You can hear the hitch in Steve's voice for a moment. You stay silent with a warm smile on your face. "You found my dog tags?" He asks, looking up at you from his position on the floor. "Well, I didn't find them, but Bucky did. Said they had been stashed away in his belongings. Guess he kept them on him all those years." The smile grew on Steve's face as he crawled over to you, hugging you around your waist. You rubbed his hair gently and whispered 'I love yous' into his hair.

It took a moment for the heated moment to die before Steve pushed your gift into your lap. He stayed right there. You pulled back the wrapping paper. Letting you see a small brown box. "This better now be a box in a box." You tease. Steve only shakes his head as he plays with the dog tags in his plan.

It took you a moment to open the box without a proper pair of scissors or a box cutter. And Steve watched with ease. When you pulled the little box out, your heart started to race, and your vision became blurry. When you opened it, you froze.

A diamond ring set with smaller diamonds around it. The tears flew freely down your cheeks, and when you looked up at your boyfriend, he was standing on one knee. "This is a little unconventional, but I hope you say yes. Will you marry me?" You dropped the box onto the couch and jumped into his arms. Kissing his frantically. Muttering quiet 'yes' over and over again into his face,

"Good." His lips are on yours, and it feels like life is breathed into you. "Now put it on my hand." You say, jutting your hand out into his face. He quickly grabs the box as you pluck the rings from the box and slips it onto your finger with even more ease.

"It looks beautiful." You say to him and yourself as you look down at your left hand. "of course it does. It's as beautiful as it's weary." Steve says before grabbing your face and bringing you down for another passionate kiss.

"Aren't you glad you didn't wait till after Starks party!" Steve teases. "Oh, you're damn right. I'm glad I didn't wait. The girls are going to scream when they find out." Still staring down at the sparkling diamond on your hand.

Completed on: 11/22/23

Posted on: 12/14/23

The Old-

Marvel Master List // The Old Master List // Christmas Stories Master List

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necros-writing-stuff · 1 year

Note

Darius’ wife seeing an old picture of Molly and Darius together and becoming self-conscious. Molly is just so, so beautiful. Would you like her more if she wore her hair like Molly’s? You like redheads? She can dye her hair! But worst of all is how happy he looks, he never smiles like that around her.

"Put that away, will you? I don't want to see it."

You're at his mam's house for lunch, Doreen having brought out the old photo albums for you to peruse. Darius almost begged her not to, but the older woman had placed into into your hands and left to make some drinks before he could say much more. Instead, he's sat pouting on his side of the couch.

"... but you seem so happy in this photo."

He scoffs, stretching out his legs as far as they'll go before they bump into the antique coffee table.

"It was the week before I got my promotion. I already knew I was getting it, finally becoming a detective, and we had a little gathering here at Ma's house to celebrate."

And you'd already been told that Molly had left the day it had been made official.

You still pause, tugging on your hair a little as you look over Molly's features. Darius studies you then, wounded to recognise the self-consciousness on your face. It was the same look he gave himself in the mirror on bad nights.

He rips the photograph from your hands before you can look much more, tossing it on the table.

"Don't compare yourself to that bitch. You're worth a thousand of-"

"Darius Radner! You will not speak ill of a woman in my household." Doreen returns with a couple of steaming mugs on a wooden tray with some biscuits to snack on, throwing her son a disapproving look. His father was at a doctor's appointment, which was the only reason he'd decided to visit today.

"She left me without a word!"

"You treated her poorly, and you better not do it to this lovely one here."

This sets him off. He rises from his seat, grabbing the glass of bourbon he'd poured for himself and headed for the back garden to cool off as his mam tuts at his back.

Doreen turns to you with a sad smile adorning her wrinkled face, crinkling her nose. "Ignore him. He's bitter."

She begins placing the mugs and setting out the biscuits, carefully returning the photo album to its spot on the mantle when she's finished.

It's too quiet as you sip your drink, Doreen looking to the floor once she'd taken her place in her quaint little armchair. It was on old one, but she'd obviously taken a lot of care for it and the rest of the home throughout the years.

"... he never really loved her."

You look up, your head tilting to encourage her to continue.

"Molly. He never actually loved her. She was convenient. His father, old fool he is, got it into Darius' head when he was young that he had to follow into his footsteps. So he married the first chance he got instead of doing it when it felt right. It worked for Rich and I, but not for those two."

Darius certainly hadn't rushed with you. You'd spent months in that basement of his, and who knew how long he'd kept tabs on you prior to that.

"He took his time getting to know me. A very long time," you whisper, Doreen nodding along.

"He learned his lesson. And thats why I know you two will work. Do you know how long he's been alone for? I thought I'd die before I saw him happily settled. You must be truly special to have made him let you in."

A warmth fills your chest as she leans over and takes your hand. The back door creaks open, Darius returning with his drink empty. He shuffles across the living room to the coat rack, taking his from its post.

"We're heading home, come on."

"You're staying for tea, young man."

"We're-"

He shuts up when he turns around to see Doreen's eyebrow raised. Another petulant sigh and he hangs his coat up once more.

"Roasted beef?"

"In a bone broth with carrots and thyme."

And just like that, he's content to sit again, taking his new hot drink and sipping on it - his hand squeezing your thigh. Its almost comical how childlike he can be whenever you visit Doreen and Mr Radner isn't around, but you hide the smile it brings behind another sip.

Doreen's words comfort you as you sink into the couch cushions yourself. He must think you're special, she's right. After all the trouble he went through to keep you and make you love him, he must think the world of you.

#spill you guts #anonymous #darius radner #not dol #radnerverse #'nw alcoholism'#'nw abduction'

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invisibleraven · 6 months

Note

It's not that cold, peterpatterlina

When her boyfriends first suggested going away for a weekend, Julie had visions of a cute little B&B up the coast, maybe that historic inn right on the boarder of Oregon she had hinted about with the spa in it.

She wasn't expecting a rustic cabin in the woods.

But here they were, faces shining with pride as they made little 'Ta da!' gestures, and Julie couldn't squash that. "It's very cottage core," she finally landed on.

"Right?" Luke said, still beaming. "Carrie found it for us when I told her we wanted to go off the grid. No frills, just us."

"It does have running water and electricity," Reggie assured her. "But also a fireplace and a nice clawfoot tub."

Julie looked intrigued by that-it did sound awfully romantic, so she let herself be lead inside. The decor was a little dated, but it was homey and comfortable looking. Plus the water did work, and the fully stoked fridge seemed to be functioning. "Alrighty then, which one of you knows how to chop wood for that fire?" she asked.

Luke and Reggie looked at each other, dumbfounded, and Julie sighed. There was a small stack of logs by the fireplace, but she very much doubted they would last her the weekend. "Reggie you grew up on a farm and you don't know how to chop wood?"

"In Georgia," he replied. "It doesn't exactly merit fire weather there very often. And MeeMaw didn't trust me with an axe."

"Given how accident prone you are, that's probably fair," Luke snickered.

"Hardy har Lu, you aren't exactly a lumberjack either. What happened to all those summers with your mom's folks in Quebec?" Reggie retorted.

"They live in Montreal, not some backwater. They didn't even own a fireplace, they had central heating!" Luke argued back.

Julie sighed, then marched out the door once more, finding the woodshed in an effort to avoid listening to them bicker. She did thankfully know how to chop wood, and got to it.

Reggie and Luke came out soon after, both whistling obnoxiously as she cleaved another log in twain.

"Aren't you cold?" Reggie asked, wrapping his flannel tighter around himself.

Julie looked down at her tank top, her own flannel tied around her waist, and shrugged. "It's not that cold," she replied. "Plus this is sweaty work, so why don't one of you run me that bath and the other sort out supper until I'm done?"

They scurried off and Julie went back to her chopping until she was happy with her work. She'd probably have to come out again to get them through to Sunday night and replenish the pile before they left, but it would do for now.

Back inside the cabin there was a small fire going, with Luke whipping together something in the kitchen-probably mac & cheese, one of the few meals he could make masterfully. There was a steaming mug sitting at the counter though and Julie smiled as the spices of the hot cider hit her tongue. "Yum!"

"Thanks, got it at the farmer's market before we left," Luke said. "Though I did get some apples from the orchard stall so I think if we beg Reg enough he'll make us his famous pie."

Julie groaned at the thought of Reggie's pie. Between her and Luke they were pretty decent cooks, but Reggie was a world class baker, and his apple pie was to die for. "How long until supper?"

"At least a half hour," Luke replied. "Go enjoy your bath." She thanked him with a lingering kiss, flavoured with the cinnamon from her drink and the nutty cheese Luke favoured in his mix, but it was a strangely compelling combo, making it only a little bit hard to pull away towards the bath calling her name.

Julie pulled her curls into a messy bun and chuckled when she entered the bathroom to find Reggie testing the water of the bath, piled high with bubbles. "You weren't about to steal my bath were you cariño?"

Reggie turned, a look of guilt quickly vanishing his features. "No? Maybe hoping you'll share. You know I like my occasional bath."

Julie laughed, shaking her head. "I don't think that thing will fit the both of us," she nodded at the tub which looked gorgeous and barely big enough for one.

"Had to try," Reggie said with a shrug. "I'll go start unpacking, you soak."

Julie sighed as she lowered herself into the steaming water, but called Reggie back, pulling him down for a kiss, uncaring that she was getting suds in his hair or that his kiss made the temperature of her bath seem tepid in comparison.

He was grinning as he left, and Julie leaned back, feeling the tension from the surprise of this place and her hard work melt away. Sure it was no luxury resort or five star accomodations, but she was already loving it here.

Especially when by the time they left, fully relaxed, and reluctant to go back to society, Julie did it with a new ring on her finger, and her two fiances promising they could come back next year.

#filled prompts #ficlet #rukebox #peterpatterlina #julie and the phantoms

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slightlyunconventional · 1 year

Note

OOOOOOHHHH K/AZ ALLERGY THOUGHTS LET ME SEE ✨

Currently thinking about him being one of those people with severe ragweed allergies who is allergic to chamomile tea as a result,,,, especially since he mostly drinks coffee I feel like this could be an unwelcome discovery for him perhaps

hello! i emerge once again from my writing hell cave to post another little fic because this prompt is SO GOOD. i had to write something for it i just had to (also SORRY for the kinda rubbish ending i got really tired please forgive me xx)

oh ALSO this is supposed to be set like. during/after season 2? but no worries if you haven't watched it cause there's no spoilers

tea (in which i f*ck with k/az b/rekker's dignity for the millionth time)

It was the morning after one of those encounters K/az always referred to as a “negotiation” - more of a brawl, some would say, but who was to disagree with K/az B/rekker - and the five crows were slumped, exhausted, on the seats of a booth in a small, dingy tavern. The not-so-comfortable silence was only broken by a loud growl from J/esper’s stomach. He raised his hands in mock surrender as K/az glared daggers at him. I/nej nudged N/ina with her elbow.

“Let’s order something, yeah?” she asked pointedly. N/ina nodded enthusiastically.

“Oh, yes, please,” N/ina replied, eyes lit up, “I could devour three plates of waffles after last night.”

“I’ll have what she’s having,” J/esper said. He looked down at W/ylan, who looked as though he were about to fall asleep on the taller man’s shoulder. “So will he.”

I/nej turned to K/az. “And for you?” she asked.

“Coffee. Black,” he said shortly. I/nej raised her eyebrows.

“You’re not eating?” Kaz shook his head.

Nina snorted. “Suit yourself, then.” She looped her arm in Inej’s and they made their way to the bar.

Kaz sighed and leaned back in his seat, stretching his bad leg out under the table. Jesper regarded him as he did so.

“You alright, boss? Took a pretty hard hit last night,” he said.

The dark-haired man nodded. “That merch got what he had coming. That’s all that matters.”

“Right,” Jesper agreed. The three of them sat quietly for a while, waiting for Inej and Nina to return. When they finally did, they were holding a tray of drinks.

“The food will be another few minutes,” Inej said as she set each mug onto the table before its recipient. Kaz looked down at his own and nearly laughed.

“What is that?”

“They didn’t have any coffee left. The next shipment isn’t till midday, so we just got the next best thing.”

“Next best thing?” Kaz was looking incredulously at her, “I don’t even know what that is.”

Inej sighed. “That is chamomile tea. And it will do you some good.”

“Something else to fuel him that isn’t caffeine and vengeance,” Jesper said with a snort. Wylan snickered from beside him.

Kaz simply rolled his eyes. The sweet aroma of the tea wafted into his face. It was pleasant, he supposed, though it did settle a faintly familiar tingle in his sinuses. Before he could ponder it further, a barmaid came to their table, arms laden with steaming dishes of waffles - Nina was practically drooling. The sickly, syrupy scent made Kaz grimace, so he settled for a single sip of the yellow-tinted tea in front of him. How bad can it be? Inej drinks this all the time, he thought. Not something he could drink on the regular, but tolerable for now. It was nice, a warm, floral taste that spread throughout his mouth… and nose, apparently? That faint tingle quickly became a fervent tickle, and Kaz’s breath caught quietly. He rubbed roughly at his nose with one gloved hand. The constant waft of steam from the tea wasn’t helping the tickle die down at all, in fact, it was only fuelling the fire. What the hell? he thought, as his nose burned fiercer. Before he knew it, Kaz was ducking down in the little room he had between himself and the table with a heavy sneeze.

“hehH’DJSHHh!” A chorus of ‘bless you’s sounded from around the table. He didn’t even have time to roll his eyes before his breath snagged again, this time much more vocally. “haAh-ehH’dDJSHHhiew!”

Four more ‘bless you’s, this time each with a hint of amusement. Kaz sniffled softly and rubbed at his nose again. The tickle was still wreaking havoc in his nose, and he hadn’t a clue why. He knew he wasn’t getting sick - he felt totally fine, and it wasn’t like he could pin it on an allergy. The only things that really bothered him were dust and that awful ragweed plant that seemed to ruin his life (and dignity) every fall, but this was… a cup of tea. To say he was confused would be an understatement.

“You coming down with somethi-” Jesper began to ask. Kaz cut him off with a third harsh sneeze.

“-ehHiihH’dDSHHhiew! Fucking hell…”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Jesper said, “Bless you, again, by the way.”

Kaz shot him a hazy glare. “I’m not. I’m fine. I don’t know what the hell this is,” he said shortly. Barely moments after he’d finished speaking, he was overcome with the incessant need to sneeze once again.

“Oh, Saints -hehH’dDJISHHhiew! hah-hAHh’JSHHhuh!” Kaz could feel four sets of eyes trained on him as he emerged from the crook of his elbow, some watching in amusement, some in concern. His breath caught, again. In annoyance, Kaz pressed his nose into his sleeve and prepared for the incoming. A sharp hitch, then… nothing. He sniffled tentatively, but with no result, so he gingerly removed his face from his arm. His eyes met Jesper’s across the table, whose mouth was tilted in a smirk.

“Sounds like a repeat scenario of that posh knob’s closet, eh Nina?” he said, elbowing her. Kaz looked at him incredulously. “Oh, yeah, I’ve been told all about that little incident,” Jesper winked, “I should have liked to be there. Shame I missed out on all the fun.”

Kaz was about to spit a snarky reply, but got cut off by the rapid rise in intensity of the burn in his sinuses. He lifted his arm to his face again, breath stuttering.

“hehh… hahHiiihh-!” His eyelids fluttered uncharacteristically with each hitch of his breath, his shoulders rose, and his nostrils flared in irritation. Still nothing. He could tell everyone else had averted their eyes so as to avoid embarrassing him - but he was mortified enough already. Kaz inhaled slowly through his nose and felt traces of the chamomile’s scent sneak their way into his nostrils. The tickle burned deeper. He was on the precipice, the very brink, of a well-needed sneeze, but he just couldn’t seem to-

“hah-heHh’dDJHSSHHhiew! -ahH’JSZZSHh! heHH’DJSHHIEew!”

Finally.

“Could this possibly be the best thing I have ever witnessed?” Jesper asked, eyebrows lifted.

Kaz was breathless. “I don’t get it. What the hell is this?”

Wylan’s brows were furrowed for a moment, then his eyes widened. “The tea,” he said simply.

“What?” said Kaz, looking up from his arm.

“Well, you’re pretty badly allergic to ragweed, aren’t you?” Wylan asked. Kaz said nothing. “Um,” Wylan cleared his throat, “you are. Allergic, that is. Badly.”

The taller man averted his eyes.

“The, uh, well, the chamomile plant is a relative, you could say, of ragweed. And obviously you only really drink coffee, so you haven’t ever really been, well, exposed to this. So, that’s probably what’s making you so-”

“heHH’ISHHhiew!”

Wylan nodded.

“Perfect timing,” laughed Jesper.

Wordlessly, Kaz pushed the offending cup of tea away from him, sniffling softly still. Jesper was sure he’d never seen him looking so annoyed yet so pathetic in his life.

Inej piped up, “I suggest we get rid of that.” She gestured towards the mug. Before anyone could say anything, Kaz was already out of his seat and striding towards the stairs of the tavern. A single muffled sneeze sounded from halfway up the steps before the rhythmic clunk of his cane continued and eventually faded from earshot.

“Got rid of the wrong mug, Inej,” Jesper said with a shrug. Wylan snorted with laughter into his waffles, and even Inej herself cracked a smile.

#this one is Alright at best. but i did have fun writing it so its fine #hope u enjoy!#snz #snzfic #snz blog #snzario #snz kink #sneeze kink #sneezefic #s/ix of cr/ows

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achaotichuman · 2 months

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Part 5 you filthy animal Tamlin knew that he should be terrified right now. He was naked, tied up by his own guts, slowly bleeding into the ground and utterly helpless before two mighty winged beasts. But perhaps he had no fear in him left to feel. What was there to be afraid of? No matter what move he made, every choice led to his death. If he was going to die no matter what, he wanted to be thinking of pleasure, not pain. Two sets of eyes, one golden and one brown, narrowed at him, as if sensing that utter yielding of Tamlin to his desire for both of them. The dragon snorted softly, red-orange sparks dancing between the steam that flowed out. The owl merely hooted gracefully and turned to the dragon as if asking for permission. The dragon bowed his head, and Tamlin held his breath as Elain approached him in her beast form and gently nudged his neck with the soft feathers on her head. Tamlin purred, unable to help himself, and Lucien blew out a jet of stream straight at his mouth. "Mmph!" Tamlin found his mouth gagged by a rope of fire. It stung just enough that Tamlin's eyes watered and he wanted more. Tamlin stared directly at Lucien, expecting him to come closer now, but Lucien merely stared Tamlin down. What are you thinking? Tamlin wondered as he stared at the fearsome creature. It soon became clear as the dragon's golden spikes approached Tamlin and began to glide across his body. Every nerve ending in Tamlin's body stood up, and he writhed and moaned so loudly even the gag could not contain it. Instantly, those spikes suck into Tamlin's flesh. Tamlin gasped- or tried to- as he felt the spines penetrate his shoulder, his rips, his upper thigh. A soft growl of warning sent a blast of heat straight at his face as a ring of fire surrounded him. If he writhed a little too much, he'd get burned. Finally, Lucien came closer. His eyes pinned Tamlin's to the spot as the claws on his hands raked down his body. Tamlin shuddered then winced where one of his feet had kicked out into the fire. Tamlin fluttered his lashes, trying to ask for permission to speak. Thankfully, Lucien understood and undid the gag. "Please, Master," Tamlin gasped as the dragon's sharp teeth clamped over his chest, "I need you inside of me." A puff of breath that sounded like a laugh blew over Tamlin's pecs, and the fire parted ever so slightly as Elain caressed Tamlin all the way down his body with her impossibly soft wings. Then she trailed back up his legs and began stroking his dick with her feathers again and again. Tamlin gritted his teeth in the effort it took to stay still, compounded when Lucien joined in with one of his claws. "Please," he groaned. Then all of a sudden it all stopped. The dragon put one hand on the owl and she stopped caressing him immediately. Tamlin felt cold without the touch of the mighty beasts. In a flash of light, Lucien shapeshifted into his human form, Elain doing the same beside him. "Who do you want, Tamlin?" Lucien asked. Tamlin gulped. This felt like a trick question. "Both of you. Either of you." Lucien smiled. "I know. But which one of us would you prefer?" Tamlin knew it was a dangerous question to answer, so he kept his mouth shut. But then Lucien was there, hands above and below his lips, prying his mouth open. He snarled right into his mouth, "Answer me." And Tamlin could not avoid the High Lord's command in his voice as he answered, "You, Lucien." Lucien stepped back. "I thought so." He turned to Elain, brushing the back of his hand against her cheek. "Go and take him, darling. I'll watch." Tamlin wasn't sure he was going to survive Lucien watching him fuck someone else but he had no choice as Elain stood before him, her doe eyes the center of his vision. "Begin."

Lol Tamlin is so desperate omg I love him. Lucien being called master is entirely too hot. I love this.

MAKE ME MORE PLEEEEEEEAAASSSEEEE.

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anco-writes · 10 days

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Oh boy it's been so long, have this little thing I drummed up for a DND campaign run by my wonderful friend @infinitefluffderg

It's not quite explicit fetish material (weight gain does happen a little bit at the end but it's like, vestigial and only there because I'm a freak) but like, it's there!

Anyways this details how my character Edge escaped from prison after a lifetime of petty crime caught up with them after an earth shattering event occured in front of them.

Also if you don't like FA or clicking links, maybe you'll consider diving past a readmore

Perpetual Prisoner

By AnCo Calcen (by Alph)

Chains bound the wrist of a miniscule figure, barely visible, lost amidst a sea of similarly shackled souls of larger sizes. The prisoners lined up for inspection, the air thick with the scent of wet fur as the collective of their bound vitality practically turned the recently fallen rain to steam. A sharply dressed figure marched ahead of the procession, piercing eyes pricking the pride of those who dared try to match his gaze with wilful defiance.

Black leather boots splashed on the wet path of the sharp figure’s inspectorial route, in sharp contrast to the bare paws that shuffled uncomfortably in the wet muddy grass. The same scene was mirrored on either side of the warden, his dark charge gathered in this inhospitable environment to witness a great event. The falling of a Titan of the sea.

Public executions are not done without purpose. Normally, such a gruesome display of law and order would be a sign from the black hearted jailors of the world. A message to all law abiding citizens that they are safe from the wolves at their doors, and a reminder that a vulpine life meets a ragged end.

So it was highly unusual for a pirate to be executed for an audience of the undesirables of society.

The small figure shivered in the rain, fists clenched as they tried to fight the urge to thrash in their binds. They didn't belong here. This wasn't right. They hadn't done anything wrong. Nothing to put them here. So they'd stolen. So they were in debt. It didn't matter. They didn't belong here. Not bound up with hardened criminals, forced to bear witness to the slaying of a mighty Titan.

Through the discomfort that pulled at their tiny frame, they managed to remain silent, completely avoiding the piercing eyes of the warden when he finally passed them. For some reason, all thoughts of bargaining left the fennec fox’s mind, their pronounced ears folding in in new found shame. This was not a man that could be reasoned with. They were guilty by virtue of their mere presence.

And the guilty needed to learn that freedom was not a thing they were allowed to have.

The sharp dressed figure eventually reached the terminus of his path, ascending up to a seated position overlooking the wooded stage that demanded the attention of all present. Once he was seated, a nod was given, and a gate at the far end of the courtyard creaked open, revealing the star of the show.

The leopard was covered in scars, many of which were fresh and weren't properly treated, bound in chains soaked in anti magic. They were clearly a grade above the manacles of the audience, thrumming softly with power, betraying the undying power and resolve of the star. They stood head and shoulders above most of the audience, their strides measured, spine straight, as they walked peacefully through the rain soaked courtyard, turning the path red with the leaking blood from their wounds.

As much as the warden had frightened the fennec, the Titan struck a whole new emotion into the fox. They suddenly felt like they understood why they were here. They suddenly understood what freedom and hope looked like. And why the people who'd cast them in chains needed it to die.

It was transcendently evident that the figure who walked so proudly was something to be feared, if not revered. Despite an evident defeat, and all attempts to bring them to their knees, the leopard walked as if they were an equal to those who bound them.

This proud stride passed through the space provided, straight to its certain doom as they were forced to kneel on the wooden stage..a hush drew over the crowd, all eyes on the leopard. Some would swear they heard the Pirate straining against their restraints, while others were certain it was the clattering of their own restraints as their bodies were moved to sympathy at the sight of the proud beast.

The sharply dressed figure stood up, the sound of black boots echoed through the still air as he turned in place, first to regard the Star, and then the audience.

“Inmates of our illustrious penitentiary. On this day, you will bear witness to the great victory of our fair society over the monsters who would challenge our peaceful way of life. For years, this notorious criminal has caused chaos wherever they went. This trail of chaos was put to an end three days ago when the wretch was captured, and promptly transported here. This monster…” the warden's voice affected a snarl, eyes darting to the bound pirate as he paused momentarily. “Is so terrible, that even you prisoners have reason to fear them, and their… disruptive influence. You, who have lost your place as citizens, no longer need to fear the criminal known as Silver Tail Enigma!”

In que with the warden's words, a guard moved behind Enigma, and drew their execution blade, and with one swift movement, sliced not the pirate’s head, but the silver furred tail that was their namesake. Everyone could feel the reverberation of the jolt Enigma gave, but no howl of pain followed suit. In fact, those closer to the front saw their eyes close for a moment, before opening again with a disturbingly serene smile.

All movement stopped, the warden's display clearly having expected to give pause to Enigma’s howls of pain at this moment, though he was denied. Instead, the leopard spoke in a level voice: “Ah… it looks like I'm going to die. Sorry everyone.”

The warden's fists clenched in frustration, a harrowing bark of “Now!” Ringing out like a shot as the executioner raised their blade once again. Time stood still as Enigma suddenly stood up, the executioner’s blade clanging against the chains that bound them. Before anybody could react, a magnificent and horrifying bolt of lightning descended from the stormy clouds above. The small figure who'd stepped out on the main path to get a better look, clearly saw the most perplexing sight of the leopard’s jaw opening beyond any normal mortal’s limits, the trail of the lightning bolt seeming to fall into their mouth.

The fox managed to blink in disbelief once, before the stage erupted in a massive explosion, throwing them and everyone else in attendance back. Nobody reported seeing Enigma after that moment. The chains and their body were nowhere to be found, the official declaration made in the days that followed, was that Silver Tail Enigma was obliterated on the spot.

When Edge came to, the world was a ringing hazy fog of chaos. Fires spread around them, and just as they began to take in the horror unfolding around them. Many prisoners lay face down in the mud, some actively burning as the fire spread from the central stage, the regiment of guard's in full parade gear were forced to fight back the blaze, unable to rely on the prisoner's for assistance as they were all still shackled together.

This last revelation made the disoriented fennec fox look down at their own restrained paws, only for their eyes to suddenly go wide in horror, delayed pain lancing through their body, causing them to writhe and scream out. Where their left paw should have been, was a smoking crater, burned shut at the forearm. Instinct kicked in, and their right hand went to grab it, and only moments later did they realize that the chain on their right wasn't attached to anyone else anymore.

They weren't chained. The front gate that Enigma had been brought through was open. All the guards were distracted by the fire. No one was watching the prisoner's. These thoughts flashed through Edge’s head one by one, and before they knew it, they were on their feet, rushing headlong towards freedom.

As they were nearing the exit, a strong hand suddenly grabbed their ankle, forcing the fox to stop running. A gruff looking badger held on tightly, face seared from the explosion. “You! Hell me! We can fight back, we can liberate this whole compound for master Enigma! The guard over there is down, dead or knocked out I don't know just grab the key! Give me the key and I'll-”

That thought wasn't allowed to finish. Edge wasn't thinking straight or at all, when their leg suddenly shot forward and slammed into the badger’s snout, their grip on their leg suddenly releasing as the fennec took off again.

“I can't!” Was all they managed to choke out. They didn't want to be caught, were terrified of being seen revolting. So they ran, and didn't look back, even as the badger called to them, his voice still ringing in their ears as they took off into the dense brush that surrounded the prison facility.

Edge ran for an unknown amount of time. They didn't know if they'd been followed, if someone came looking to retrieve them, they didn't stop to find out. They ran for as far as their legs could carry them, only stopping when that strength suddenly faltered.

Edge didn't know where they were. They were tired, wounded, and unspeakably hungry.

“No… no this can't be it… I didn't escape just to… not hunger God damnit…” their tired paw grasped at the ground beneath them, trying to crawl forward, before coming in contact with an odd springy texture near the base of a tree. Their paw lingered as shaky, blurry, blood soaked eyes alit upon the item in question.

Mushrooms. Are they safe to eat?

The question was only asked after their paw clenched the myconoid colony and suddenly ripped it from the ground, shoving it into their starving muzzle without a second thought.

The flavor was amazing. Maybe they were just delirious and starving. Edge assumed they would probably have savored the taste of moldy bread in that moment. Moments later, they issued a groan, suddenly rolling over onto their back, a bloated belly stuffed full of mushrooms gurgling above them as their eyes began to flutter shut.

This seemed like as safe a place to sleep as any. Edge continued to breathe raggedly, until they found their breathing taking on a distinct rhythm. This rhythm began to roll through Edge's body, which twitched and writhed upon the ground.

“Not safe… definitely not safe…” was the last lucid thought that pierced the growing malaise that overtook them.

Their eyes fluttered, before suddenly they felt their entire body sink straight through the loamy forest floor beneath them. “This is it… I'm dead… I've just been pulled back to the earth…”

As they hung in the void beneath the ground, they suddenly became keenly aware they weren't alone. Roots made their gnarled paths through the soil in every direction, and for the first time, Edge began to think about where they were. “Right… I don't even remember arriving at that prison anymore. I vaguely remember seeing some woods outside it. How far did I make it? Was it worth it?” They began to feel the roots wrap around their limbs, squeezing their thighs and biceps, and coiling around the mushroom gorged belly they spotted. “Clearly not. What was I thinking? They would have helped me…”

No they would not have.

The piercing voice suddenly forced Edge to concentrate, mind no longer separated from body. “Death…? Is that you…?” The dazed fox managed to ask as they reached blindly forward, not even registering how disorienting it should have been to see their left paw intact once again.

As their paw reached through the inky darkness, the black pads groped around for something to touch before finding something long and firm. After a moment of stroking the object, a sense of awareness overtook them, and they floated backwards, suddenly getting a fuller picture of the space beneath the ground.

Before them, formed of thick green vines and brown coiling roots, was the face of a massive dragon, so large it could have swallowed the prison whole. It's mouth was sewn shut, and yet when Edge heard a voice, it was clear it came from the dragon's mouth.

“Wanderer. You have met with an unfortunate turn of fate. Your body is dying. Even now, your soul is beginning to break away from your body, which is beginning to return to the forest. While I would be thankful for such a gift from the land of mortals under normal circumstances… feasting upon your pitiful bones will sustain me no more than an evening's snack.”

Edge felt their tail frill in agitation at that comment. Too small, too scrawny they'd heard a million variations of that in their life, and they were none too pleased to hear it in death too.

“In light of this… I have decided to grant you clemency. You will recover your energy, and when the time is right, you will make your decision. In the meantime, feast, and rest.”

And with that, the massive dragon turned away, seeming to unravel in the darkness. Edge wanted to call out, more questions to be asked, but their mouth was suddenly plugged by a root. Sap suddenly filled every available space in their muzzle, and just as their eyes began to water from the pressure, they gulped, allowing the thick substance to flow down their throat.

Just like when they were running, Edge lost count of how long they spent their beneath the soil, gulping in rhythm as their body began to absorb the forest’s nutritional bounty. Soon, their body went from a miniscule scrawny vagabond on the edge of death, to a plump round figure of decadence. Their fur gave way to shimmering silver scales, and before they knew it, their body has been rejuvenated and rebuilt from a sickly little fennec fox, to a jubilant and extremely overfed Kobold.

Their paws twitched as they tried to sit up or move, but despite all the rest, their body seemed no more eager to respond. Just as the nonstop expansion of their frame began to grow into a nagging worry, they suddenly saw a figure emerge from the darkness.

Though perhaps that was not the best description. This figure, clad in ebony scales seemed woven into the darkness, like a shadow that was only half perceptible in the supernatural darkness that surrounded them. In fact, the only reason Edge was able to accurately identify it was coming, was the small troupe of similarly blubbery kobolds heralding the figure’s arrival. The creatures seemed happy, with bright smiles and easy postures, their body language alone putting Edge at ease despite the ominous shadow that walked in their midst.

This shadowy figure loomed over Edge, even in their expanded state. It leaned over the newly minted Kobold, and spoke with lips unmoving. “My name is Cecil, the Lord of the forest.

It is by my grace that you yet live.

You are welcome to stay here, so long as that is your will.”

The dragon's words echoed in Edge's mind as they sluggishly nodded in understanding, gasping slightly as the vine in question was seized and pulled from Edge’s mouth.

Months of bacchanalia persisted, Edge adjusting to the new dreamy life as… whatever they were now. Some sort of spirit servant to the Lord of the woods? It seemed like a fair deal. They'd never had a life this easy while alive, and the Lord didn't exactly work the plump servants, mostly delighting in their softness.

Edge met two other beings, both of whom, along with the shadowy figure from before, identified themselves as divine dragons. Both of them seemed to take a shine to edge, and the four often found themselves in lighthearted but rapt conversations. But as all good things seem to go, this too did not last. Day by day, Edge was becoming more… docile. They could feel their personality ebbing away like sand through an hourglass. They supposed it was only inevitable, but as time went on and they became increasingly vapid, the dragon gods seemed to pay them less and less mind, until they were just another Kobold.

For some reason, Edge still felt mad about this.

One evening, the plump Kobold approached the shadowy lord of the woods, paws wringing together as they looked for the words and confidence necessary to speak their mind.

“Cecil, lord of the forest… I came to ask you a favor. Before, you said I could stay here as long as I wished… and that if I wished for something else, you would do your best to give it to me.”

The ebony scales dragon appeared before Edge, stroking their soft belly as they nodded.

“All of this is true Edge.

But you must tell me.

If not this paradise, for what do you want?”

Edge squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Their mind felt so distant and hazy that they couldn't really come up with a reason to not just stay as one of Cecil’s acolytes.

As they cast their mind back, searching for answers, they found them in the form of the disturbingly serene smile that had heralded disaster, and with a sudden look of determination framing Edge’s new pudgy face, one thought shot through them like a bolt of inspiration.

“I want to be free. I thank you for saving me my lord… but I do not wish to be your servant. All my life I've lived under one yolk or another. Maybe if things had been different, I'd be happy to stay here for all time… but if that means being your servant, I can't do it. Please, I… I would like to leave now.”

Edge huffed and puffed as they looked into the piercing eyes of the dragon god of nature, looking side to side as two more gods joined the scene, a dragon of dazzling light whose luminous projections poured into an all devouring serpent of darkness nearby. The three communicated for a moment, before Cecil regarded Edge once more.

“Your wish for freedom will be granted.

But there is one condition you must follow.

Your resurrection will not come free.”

Edge's teeth gritted for a moment, before they gave a resolute nod. “I was prepared for this. Whatever task you deem fit to give me, I will carry it out, as my final sentence.”

“Then you will receive our blessing.

From this day forth, you will walk the land once more.

As Edge, the emissary of the Lord of the woods, and acolyte of the path of the dragon.”

Edge felt their body reflexively wag the thick tail that hung behind them, fond of the new title.

“Your task is thus.

You must make your way to the lost City of Dreams.

And make a new forest bloom there in my name.”

The dragon could have said Edge's assignment was to walk into the sun and they would have still given a resolute nod. “I accept this responsibility, and will see it through.”

“Your journey will be a perilous one.

While I wish I could grant you the strength you will need.

For now, I shall plant it in you, until the seed of power blossoms within you.”

Cecil's hand reached out and gently caressed Edge’s left, searing a sigil into the back of it, a crest containing an inverted tree bound within a triangle. This sigil flared with power for a moment, as Edge's body began to morph back to the way it had once been.

With a gasp, Edge suddenly sat up, panting heavily as they clutched their chest. It felt like they'd woken up from a dream, the past months swirling around inside their head uncertainly. For a brief moment, They recalled the terror of that night that felt so close at hand, and they wondered if the visions of the dragons had been nothing more than rabid hallucinations brought on by the mushrooms they had eaten in desperation.

But then they observed their left paw more closely, and saw that same sigil, clear as day, and unmistakable. And as they focused on their paw, fingers twitching, a faint power that had never been there before stirred as faint trails of energy danced between their fingers.

It hadn't been a dream. They had been gone for so long… but now they had a mission. All they had to do was see it through, and then they would be free for all time.

#fantasy #dnd #character backstory #if you've never read or watched one piece #:3 #if you have haha arent i good at homage

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squishymochisoo · 1 year

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Department of Lost Souls | Han Jisung

genre: angst, angel-ish au, some crack

pairing: han jisung x lee minho, platonic han jisung x skz

words: 2.8k

synopsis: "Welcome to the Department of Lost Souls" When Jisung first met Chan in the Department of Lost Souls, he thought his dreams had suddenly become too vivid. But suddenly finding out he had 90 days left to live, left him clueless. There's so much he wanted to do with his life.

tw: death

“Hello and welcome to the Department of Lost Souls”

“Hope you had a pleasant journey here. Please wait here while we connect you with our Finders.”

Jisung stood in front of the woman behind the counter and scratched his head in confusion. It looked like an ordinary office. You could see people in office wear bustling around the office. Some talking on the phone, one standing in front of the printer with a big stack of paper. Jisung squinted at the board behind the woman at the counter,

‘Department of Lost Souls’

‘Soul counter: 901,034,941’

‘What on earth is this dream about?’

Sure Jisung has had some weird dreams in his years of living, the one about a pirate breaking into his house and surprising him with a birthday cake and a balloon, being the weirdest he can remember. But this was on another level. What does a department of lost souls even do?

Jisung shrugged and figured since this was a dream that he’d enjoy it. And that was how a brown-haired man who didn’t look much older than him found him snacking in the pantry with a steaming cup of coffee talking to one of the workers.

“Exactly! I believe that clown wear should be considered as casual wear for clowns! I’m so glad we have the same views Yuna!” Jisung exclaimed. Chan looked at the situation confused with a tinge of amusement.

“Han Jisung?”

“Here!” Jisung immediately stood up, unsure why he sounded so excited.

“Hi Jisung, my name is Chan, your Finder. And welcome to the department of lost souls. “ Jisung moved closer to his ‘finder’ and looked around cautiously before whispering.

“And what exactly are you trying to find?” “Lost souls.”

“…Okay… Who lost their soul? I mean what kind of loser loses their soul? Ah! Is this like an insurance coverage thing for people who sold their souls to the devil or something?” Chan chuckled looking at the wide eyed boy.

“Well for starters, I am your finder. So I’d say that you’re one of those who lost their soul”

“I DIDN’T SELL MY SOUL TO THE DEVIL!” Jisung started, panic laced in. “Oh my god! Don’t tell me Changbin sold my soul to the devil! I mean we argue sure, but I wouldn’t sell his soul to the fucking DEVIL!”

“I’m gonna need to re-evaluate all my friendships once this stupid dream is over.” Jisung groaned and rubbed his eyes.

“Hey, hey listen, you aren’t here because you or someone else sold your soul to the devil.” Chan guided Jisung towards a fluffy couch. “Have a seat first and I’ll explain it to you. It’ll be a lot to take in”

Jisung followed and raised his eyebrows at the brown haired man.

“I’m a finder and we find souls –“

“Yes I know, I’ve heard this part already –“ Chan glared at Jisung which instantly shut him up.

“Do you see that?” Chan pointed to the board of soul counters. Jisung nodded. “That is how many souls we have found and helped.”

“Basically we help people who got lost. And give them a little push. We help to ensure that their life has been fulfilled until they pass.”

“Us finders have 90 days to help their clients to the best of their abilities to fulfil their goal. And at the end of the 90 days we part ways and they can pass in peace.” Jisung furrowed his eyebrows.

“Wait! If you’re my finder and I’m the one with the lost soul. Does this mean that I’m going to die in 90 days?!” Chan only smiled sadly at the boy. “Take this as a push to do the things you’ve always wanted to do.”

“…”

“And what if I’ve always wanted to rob a bank?”

“So this is the recruiters. The recruiting team pairs up souls with us Finders based on how well they think we would match together” Chan pointed over to the group of people hovering over their keyboards on their desks. Jisung scanned the room, it looked like any office area with desk partitions separating the colleagues from each other. Some desks were decorated with memorabilia like photos and plushies. How on earth is my dream coming up with such intricate details? I can clearly see the photos and I literally have no idea who these people are.

“So “ Jisung pointed to himself and back to Chan “ we match well?”

“Well we better, if not these are gonna be a tough 90 days” right the 90 days.. and i’m gone.. Wait, why am I taking this dream so seriously.

“Jisung, I can see it on your face that you still think this is a dream.” Chan stated blankly. Jisung only stared at Chan wide-eyed. “It’s real. And even if it’s not just tell me what goals you have. If it’s fake, you will just wake up and live you life. Doesn’t hurt for you to try. “

Jisung thought about it. Chan was right. If this is fake he’d probably wake up with more conviction to achieve his goals and finish whatever he started instead of procrastinating like he does. Oh my god, it this like an epiphany so I live life to the fullest? Wait- is that even what an epiphany is?

A cough startled him out of his thoughts. Chan raised an eyebrow at him as if questioning his thoughts.

“Well, i’ve never thought about it but what could you even do to help? Like would you just be my personal motivational speaker? Or are you like magical. But that wouldn’t be fair because technically I wouldn’t have achieved my dreams by myself? But if you’re just motivating me it doesn’t make sense! What if my wish takes years?” Jisung rambled confused with the system of the organization.

“Then tell me something you can achieve in 90 days”

“Well.. since i’m going to die.” Jisung slightly shivered at the thought. “ I’d like to invite my friends to my place and just hang out with them and buy them things” Jisung smiled slightly at the thought. “They’ve always helped me with all my troubles and being a unknown music producer doesn’t really pay the bills.”

Chan nodded and hummed.

“There’s this guy.. “ Jisung started, unsure if he should continue. The other man only smiled, as if urging Jisung to continue. “His name is Minho, well he’s in the group of friends that I just mentioned. And I really like him – no actually never mind scrap that” Jisung vehemently shook his head at the thought.

“I can’t.. if I’m leaving in 90 days anyways” Jisung whispered. Chan offered a light touch on his shoulder. “Anything else?”

“I just want to finish this one song that’s been in my drafts for a year” At the mention of this Chan’s face lit up slightly. “Well I could help you with that! I loved making music in my previous life”

Jisung stared at Chan in awe.

“That’s so cool! So you’re not like an angel but you were human?”

“Do I look like i have a thousand eyes and wings?” Jisung snorted at the reply. “So do I just wake up from this or?”

“You’re not asleep Jisung. The door is there. “ Chan pointed to the door behind Jisung, leading the brown haired boy to it.

“Wait you’re leaving me alone? What happen to being my personal motivational speaker?”

“I never said that, you did.” Jisung pouted. “I’m just here to help you start the things you’ve always wanted to Jisung. But i can stay with you for the rest of the day if you wanted me to.“ At this statement, Jisung’s face lit up once more and dragged Chan through the door that lead exactly through Jisung’s front door.

“Yo what in the fuckery is this door, oh my god you ARE magic”

| |

The two months passed with Jisung going above and beyond for all his friends. And Chan stopping in at times to just chat with Jisung, keeping him company. He knew how hard it was. He’s watching hundreds of people know about their upcoming demise and still try to live on as it nothing was wrong. Chan wished he could help Jisung. Within the two months, a bond that Chan has never felt with any of his clients formed between the two of them. There were nights when Jisung cried himself to sleep not knowing what to do or realizing he would eventually have to leave his friends – not wait his family behind. The emotional attachment Chan held for Jisung wished he could turn the tides and stop what he knew was going to happen, happen. But alas there will always be things we can’t control.

“No way! It’s the headphones I’ve been wanting to buy. Sung, how did you afford this?” Changbin exclaimed in awe staring that the gift he just unwrapped on his lap. Noises from the other side of the sofa increased as the others opened their gifts. Hyunjin getting the art paints of the highest grade that he could never have justified buying. Felix getting a new keyboard and mouse. Seungmin getting a film camera. Jeongin getting a some clothes and a bag. And finally Minho, getting a necklace and a pair of boots. Just like the elders used to say, gifting someone shoes will lead them to walking out of your life. But this time I will be the one walking out.

“Sung! This is amazing thank you! I love you!” Hyunjin shouted in excitement, throwing himself at the boy sitting on the bean bag in his living room. The others followed, pouncing on Jisung as they all thanked the boy.

“How dd you even manage to buy all these?” Seungmin questioned. “You didn’t rob a bank or something right” Jisung interally scoffed. If only Chan would’ve let him, he wished.

“I’ve been saving up to buy all of you guys these. You all always take care of me and I just can’t express how blessed I am to have all of you in my life.” Jeongin looked like he was going to make fun of Jisung being sappy but before he could Jisung continued. “I really love all of you. And I hope you guys will know that. Never forget that please.” Minho frowned slightly. Was something wrong? Why was Jisung talking like this. Minho couldn’t even finish his thoughts as he caught the glimmer of a tear on Jisung’s cheek. He reached out his hands to pull Jisung into his chest.

“Hey, don’t cry Sung. We know you love us, we love you too” Jisung let out a sob and wiped his tears, squeezing this hand in between the tight gap between his face and Minho’s chest.

“Yea, I know. Sorry guys, just feeling sentimental these days.” Jisung let out a small laugh.

“Well, how about another game of mariokart!” Felix smiled as he patted Jisung on the back.

“Loser buys ice cream from downstairs!” Hyunjin declared earning a whine from Jeongin. Jisung stared fondly at his friends fighting over which character to choose. Minho kissed the top of his head.

“What was that for?” Jisung slightly looked up not wanting to leave the warmth of Minho’s arms around him.

“Nothing” Minho whispered and shook his head, looking up to stare at the rest starting the game.

Jisung slept soundly in Felix’s lap as the other stroked his hair. Jisung accidentally falling asleep after rounds of games played with the group. Felix looked up at the guys all looking at Jisung.

“Guys..” Felix started out. “ I’m worried about Sungie” Jeongin glanced at Felix.

“It’s just. I know he’s showing his love for us. But it feels like a goodbye somehow” Felix slightly let out a whimper at the thought. “Oh Lixie, I don’t think that’s the case. I’m sure he’s alright. And even if he is not, we will be by his side all the way” Changbin comforted the rest.

“Yea, we know Sungie, whatever he’s going through, he’ll bounce back up in no time.”

The group never let Jisung out of their sights for the most part. With all the love Jisung was giving, he was given tens times back by each of them.

“Sungie! Look what I painted for you with the paints you got me” Jisung had been begging for a Hyunjin paitain for the longest time and the older has always declined, jokingly saying that he didn’t deserve such art when Jisung knew Hyunjin was just too shy and felt like he didn’t have enough talent to have his paintings be given as ‘gifts’ The incredible painting of Jisung’s favourite flower and a silhouette of the 7 of them by the park now hung on the wall staring at him as he fell asleep.

“Jisung! I was trying out this new cheesecake recipe! Try it” Felix would come storming into his apartment with a new recipe he tried out. Somehow, It was as if Felix knew what desserts he was craving. A first it was once a week he came in shoving a new dessert down Jisung’s throat. But recently he’s been coming in at least four times a week. Felix has always said he was swarmed with work and barely had the time to bake as it is. But somehow he was baking so much these days. If this thought had even crossed Jisung’s mind at one point of time, it did not stay long for him to have questioned it.

“Jisung hyung, i want to go shopping, Let’s go!” Jeongin would now drag Jisung out more, shopping for clothes and accessories. Buying matching items for the rest of the group to wear. Matching items was most of the groups’ love language. It felt as though they were connected in a way.

“Oi Jisung let’s go to the beach. I want to take some pictures” Seungmin would bring Jisung to the most randomest places to get good pictures. It started out with going to the beach and gardens. Now they go on hikes and restaurants that nobody has heard of. Sometimes bringing the whole group like when they went snorkelling.

“Of course I’ll help you Sung” Changbin said when Jisung asked him if he could help with one of his songs. A song about his friends. “Is this.. about – us?” Changbin asked carefully. To which Jisung only smiled. Changbin loved the idea of sharing his love for his friends through a way where all his friends loved. Music. Jisung pouted days and nights was poured into the song – with Changbin checking in at times when Jisung got stuck.

“I love your music Hannie. I’ll forever love whatever you write” Mino has said one night as they were watching a movie together on Jisung’s couch. Jisung has quietly asked if making music was a right decision for him. “I’ll always be your number one fan and I’ll always be the first to listen to everything you put out” That night when Jisung fell asleep, Minho took out his phone and turned on notifications for Jisung’s soundcloud.

It was only a few weeks later when a notification on Minho’s phone lit up at 3:25 in the morning.

Forever Young.

That was what it was titled. Minho listened to the song, eyes glistening at the love he could hear from Jisung’s voice. It was a song about all seven of them together. A song that he knew Jisung had been working on with Changbin. Minho shared the link on his Instagram and sending a message to Jisung before tucking himself back in bed.

>> SUNGIEEE YOU’RE SONG WAS AMAZING AS USUALLY!! Nightnight baby <3

It was 10:25 the next morning when Minho awoke to another notification. From soundcloud? Another song?

My Daisy

I’ve been trying to write this song for years but never got to finishing it. I just didn’t know if the person I wanted to write this song about would ever hear it. There are so many things I want to share with you. So many moments i want to have with you. So many words that needs to be said. But sometimes, some words are better left unsaid. I love you with all my heart and maybe in another life we could have our happy ending we both deserve. My daisy, it’s always been you and will always and forever be you.

A tear fell on Minho’s screen as Jisung’s soft voice echoed through the room through the speakers on his phone. The caption he wrote for this song illuminating his face from the dark, curtain-drawn room. He scrambled to text Jisung as the last note of the song ended.

>> I love you too Sungie.

It’s been 90 days since Jisung first met Chan. And Minho was 40 mins late to sending that message.

Some things are better left unsaid but telling you I love you too late will always be my deepest regret.

Hi, I suddenly felt the urge to write and this has been WIP (with on paragraph for a year or two) Finished it up in one sitting at its 2am now. This means it did not beta it! it was meant to be a longer fic but I'm tired

Let me know what you think and all!! hehe would appreciate all the support! <3

#stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz #minsung #han jisung #stray kids angst #han jisung angst #lee minho #bang chan #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

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stinkkyy · 2 years

Text

A safe haven

Your aching legs carry your weary body the last few steps into your cozy home, sighing shakily at finally being in the shade and as away as you could be from the scorching heat of summer. In the height of this time of year, you were obviously still working, not really having a reason not to, but you were counting the days until this damned heatwave went away and autumn started rolling in.

Usually being one to have a little more finesse, it's almost uncharacteristic of you to carelessly throw the keys on the counter on your way into the kitchen, kicking your shoes off while getting a glass of water, and dripping almost a quarter of it in yourself, seeking to relieve your poor heated skin, it almost felt like steam escaped your pores as the cool water made contact with it.

You were totally gonna die.

You don't have much more time to wallow in your own vaporized pity after finishing your water when you hear footsteps approach you, followed by gentle arms wrapping around your waist.

"Hah, someone just got out of the oven?" the voice belonging to those arms teases gently, true concern behind the joke, and you place the glass on the sink to turn around. Ah, there he is. Just looking at your beloved could make you feel so much better...

"I'm cooked... Absolutely roasted, fried even", you whine, dropping your head forward and resting your forehead on his shoulder. He chuckles softly, more feeling the vibration of his chest than hearing it, and a hand comes up to pet at your hair.

"My poor angel... You look exhausted", he doesn't need to point it out but you agree with him with another whine nonetheless. You stay there for a couple minutes, you simply resting all of your weight onto him and Kaeya silently holding you up.

"... Can we please go to bed? I wanna get all these dumb clothes off..." you complain pulling away just enough to look up at him, where you find a smug smirk. Oh no.

"Oho? I thought you were overheated?" he teases some more, even going ahead and wiggling his eyebrows at you, making you groan and roll your eyes while he giggled.

"You're such a child... I just wanna lie down and be one with the soft cold sheets."

"Whatever my liege desires it shall be, then", and with that, he's picking you up in his arms and carrying you towards the bedroom. Normally you would have squeaked, maybe even complained and fought back while you both died of laughter, but you truly were so exhausted that there was no energy to fight left in your poor aching body, leaving you to simply groan and hug him, allowing yourself to be walked around like a sack of potatoes.

It doesn't take more than a minute for you to arrive to the comfort of your bedroom, the air cooler than the rest of the house a clear sign that Kaeya had been working away on the paperwork you could see on the desk opposite to the bed, only getting up to go greet you like a puppy longing for its owner to come home and zooming to the door as soon as the keys were taken out of your pocket.

Gently, as if you were but a porcelain doll, Kaeya placed you down onto the bed and kissed your forehead before pulling away to look for more comfortable clothes for the both of you, opting for just loose cotton shirts and pajama shorts, not like either of you really had to go out for the rest of the day.

Kaeya made a point to make his free hours as sacred as possible when it came to you, no paperwork, no extra hours or patrolling or anything. If your days off concurred, you had a silent agreement to spend it with the other always, unless truly pressing matters outside of your power pulled you appart.

Now dressed in the most comfortable and fresh clothes you had, you sigh happily and fall back onto the mattress, crawling up onto the center of it while listening to your beloved's harmonious laugh. Once in place, you curl up under the light bedsheets and purr as the cold fabric envelopes your body, slowly lowering its temperature, it almost feels like you're fizzling...

The knight gets in behind you only a second after, leaving his vision just on the bedside table to be able to make use of it and cool down the entire area of the bed some more, knowing you needed it before he could wrap his arms around you.

"There you go, darling... Is that better?" he coos softly, leaving the tiniest kisses along your shoulder and making you shiver.

"Mmhm... Comfy... Thank you, Kae..." you mumble, reaching for your favorite plushie and hugging it close to your chest.

"Of course... Anything for you, my dear", he speaks soft and low, his cool breath brushing against your neck just barely, making you shiver, but... It's even comforting, lulling you into a relaxed and even vulnerable state of mind.

Usually you're the one to do this for Kaeya, pamper and even baby him until he's a mushy little thing without a single thought in his head. Be it for coping purposes or simply to make him feel loved, or even in more intimate situations, you were always happy to take care of him, take control of the situation and let him feel safe and cared for, it was the default you liked to keep and he was more than happy, despite his initial reluctance about not needing to get babied (a lie).

All this was to say that he rarely ever got the chance to do the same for you. He treasured the occasions where you truly needed to let your guard down and be the one to get taken care of, and, even rarer still, you allowed yourself to even do so. He always had his way of caring for you, not leaving a moment of doubt in your heart that he absolutely adored you with all he was, but there was something special in these occasions.

"Look at you... Already so sleepy, mm?" he coos again, so so softly. A hand is caressing up and down your arm, his other arm coming up and fitting like jigsaw pieces under your head as another pillow, and you curl up back against his chest.

"Mmhm... Tired... But better..." you babble back. It was as if all the exhaustion of the day was finally catching up to you, closing your eyes and struggling to stay awake some more to be a bit longer with him.

"Ah, I'm glad, my sweet angel... My poor baby had a very long day, so much to do, and in this heat!" he clicks his tongue, as if reprimanding the entire universe for giving you a hard time. "But it's alright... You're here now, finally home, in my arms... Safe and comfy."

"Safe 'n comfy..." you repeat back, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"Mhm, that's right... Let's get some rest, my little dove", he proposes, kissing the back of your neck, making you shiver. Cold...

"Mmkay... So sleepie already... G'night..." it's all you can reply with, sleep clinging to you and making youe consciousness swirl around already. He chuckles softly, kissing along your shoulder some more.

"Rest well, my love, I will be here when you wake up", he promised, and you knew he would.

#genshin impact #genshin impact writing #kaeya x reader #kaeya imagines #genshin x reader #mun chichi

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phantomato · 2 years

Text

Peppermint

The only tea bags left in the cupboard are peppermint. They’re also hideously old, likely some sort of crime to brew, but a visual inspection reveals no dry rot and Voldemort calls that sufficient.

He can’t die, anyway. It would only be a very unpleasant week of recovery.

The water coughs to life when he turns on the tap, spitting rust and bubbles until a clear stream resumes. There are charms for water, of course, and charms for heating it as well, but those aren’t the same as lighting the gas cooker and watching the kettle upon it. He’s been told that they should never boil if you do, but then they always boil; that’s his life philosophy. Anything said to be out of his reach, he’s grasped. He’s gotten it. He’s bitten and bled and murdered, but he’s gotten it.

The kettle whistles.

Shaking himself free, he wonders if everything in his life will someday feel that… fleeting, and fast. If there’ll be a time when he hardly remembers the years spent in Albania, or the long search for his family, or the decade of shop-boy toil. If five minutes can pass for a kettle to boil water with barely any notice of it going, perhaps all those years can seem the same.

He hasn’t the mug ready, yet, and the grating sound of steam passing through metal hurries him along. He picks the wrong one, the one with the chipped rim and the cracked handle, which he must balance carefully so as not to burn his fingers, but it’s too late: he’s already poured the water over the bag. No point in dirtying a second when it’s just twice as many dishes to do. Left untouched is the thought that he might be justified in binning the broken mug—it still holds water, and there’s a boy within him that still cannot stomach waste.

That, too, would be nice to leave behind.

But he can’t, that’s as much a part of himself as everything else: it’s why he’s drinking years-old peppermint tea rather than running out to fetch some more. There’s a Tesco nearby now, which feels like a novelty and only speaks to how long he’s been gone. It’s not like it used to be, when he was younger, and the shops closed by seven. He could get tea and milk and even biscuits, though only the stodgy, over-sweet kind that shops like that sell. It would cost money, and that’s what stops him.

He does pause, a minute, on the thought that most anyone who knew him by reputation would assume he’d just steal. Perhaps with some gratuitous maiming on the way out, because surely a man like him must enjoy that. Reputations can be useful, he decides, but they’re not always right.

The bag stays in for a while longer than he’d normally do, because perhaps that will persuade a little more flavor out of the brittle old leaves. It smells right, whatever else. If it tastes like shit, he’ll just hold it for the smell and the warmth, cracked handle be damned.

Balancing the mug in his hand, he heads for the table. This, at least, is clear—dusty, which he wipes away with his sleeve, but empty. The oak wood top has an inlay of maple that was probably nice, once, about three owners before he found it down a country lane with delusions of refurbishment on his mind.

Decades later, his attempt at applying varnish is peeling up at the seams. He wiggles a piece of it loose with the nail of his right thumb, mug in his left hand, and wonders if any young idealist would pick it up from the kerb if he stuck it out there. It’s a futile thought, though, because he won’t pay to replace it; as with the mug, and the tea, and everything else, Voldemort’s stuck with this.

He sips his tea. It’s not completely foul, and that’s confirmation enough.

#voldemort #tomato shorts

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sweethartlullaby · 2 years

Text

bittersweet blood

word count: 2.5k warnings: swearing, death genre: angst, lovers to enemies, action as always, imagine who you would like sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist

Your grip on the sword remained strong despite the raindrops threatening to let it slip through your fingers. The moment was coming but you just wanted to savour it, looking down at your nemesis, on his knees and gasping for air.

You watched as he struggled, holding onto the large cut sliced across his stomach; his breathing ragged and puffs of air escaping his lips dripping with blood. The grip on your sword only tightened.

And finally, he looked up.

Your gaze met his and you knew you wanted nothing more than to watch the light leave his eyes. His damn smile crept onto his face slowly and even in the dark, you could make out the blood staining his teeth.

“So, what are you waiting for?”

Years ago...

“I just want to protect you!”

“God, you are annoying.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and you felt your stomach drop.

“And you’re acting like a child!”

“Yeah, I’m not the one screaming, am I?” He glared at you and your heart froze in your chest before you let out an exasperated chuckle. Your mind went blank, unable to comprehend what was going on anymore. Was it so bad you wanted to keep him close and to yourself just so he wouldn’t hurt himself?

“You know what?” You finally sighed out with a stifling laugh and uneven breathing, trying to keep yourself from crying out.

“You’re right. Go do whatever you want.” You took your car keys from the dining table, where you had prepared dinner for him and it was still steaming with warmth. He sighed with what seemed like frustration as you took your coat and slipped into your shoes.

“From now on, I won’t care about what you do.” You said as you tied your laces and went to take your purse.

“And one day,” The realization of what you were about to say hit you like a ton of bricks.

“One day, you’re going to be facing death.” You looked at him, tears brimming in your eyes. It pained you to even say it, with images flashing in your mind that you wanted to rid yourself of.

“And you’re going to remember this day and wish you listened to me.” He chuckled a little and you took it as your sign to leave; walking out of the door and leaving the house you used to call home.

Present time…

“So, what are you waiting for?” He asked and you laughed a little at how bittersweet this ending was going to be. It should be one for the books.

“Kill me, princess. But make it quick.” He coughed out and you noticed the blood splattering out onto the ground in between you two.

“You don’t get to have a say in how you die. That’s completely up to me.” You placed your sword under his chin and lifted his face, seeing the lock of hair that had fallen over his eyes, wet and messy.

Looking at his face now, you wished you would feel something but there was nothing there.

“Miss looking at me so much?” You pulled the sword away sharply, a warning that you could slice his throat open anytime.

Out of everything you ever thought you would go through, never did you think you would be the one wielding the blade that would kill him.

The love of your life.

A few hours ago…

“I see him.”

Taking this mission was perhaps a mistake. Were you ready to meet him?

Did it matter?

The hurt he left you all those years ago still lingered and you knew more than anyone else how doing this could free you from all the suffering. The waking up in the middle of the night, screaming and sobbing into your pillow from nightmares of how he would die. There were many choices, from a truck running into him on the street, a sniper from afar, suicide, and torture. Whatever your twisted brain could think of.

And you thought that maybe if you were the one to do it, they could stop.

It was selfish to do this for the sole purpose of having a better night’s sleep. Was it the newfound anger, or the buried grief and sorrow filling your head? You didn’t know. All you could understand was your mission, to kill him however you wanted.

You looked down at your watch, seeing that you had about three hours left to complete it. And near it, the ring he had given you years ago, a promise he had made to be the best you would ever have.

What a fucking liar.

You scoffed before turning away and looking below you. Your sword rested heavily on your back, ready to be used. You had gotten used to it and it was the weapon that you were most comfortable with, thus it became your main choice for any mission to be completed.

You detected movement in the exit and there he was, running outside with the orb you needed. It glowed in the night, and his stupid brain was probably using it as a flashlight. You tied your hair back and spoke into your earpiece.

“I’m going in.”

With a swift jump, you landed on the same ground he was jogging on and you sprinted, trying your best to catch up with him. But after thirty seconds of running, you noticed that you couldn’t see the glow anymore.

You pulled to a halt, grateful that the rain masked the sound of your footsteps. You looked around, wary of your surroundings.

“Up here, princess.” His voice echoed and you faced up, seeing him with his grin of mischief illuminated by the glowing object.

Without another word, you hopped onto the ledge and lunged at him. Your fingertips barely brushed against the orb before he sped away. You grunted before catching up with him and throwing yourself onto his back, making him tumble and fall onto the ground with the sphere flailing out of his hands and rolling onto the ground. Just as you were about to cuff him, he flipped quickly. With his bigger build and greater strength, getting you off of him must’ve been a piece of cake.

“Hm, I didn’t know you were so kinky.” He looked at the cuffs but you had no reply. You quickly lunged back at him and held his hands together.

“Wait-”

You pushed his arms up, pinning him onto the ground with all your might. The stretch made him wince as you reached to grab the cuffs to bind him with. You grasped onto the metal at the same time he pushed you off of him.

Your back collided with the floor and with your sword still on your back, the fall poked you a little more than it normally would.

“Damn, when did you get so strong?” You nearly replied with a yell as you jumped back onto your feet and pulled out your sword. He stared at the cuffs and raised an eyebrow at you as if to say, “really, this is all you got?” before pulling his arms in opposite directions, breaking the cuff in a matter of seconds.

Your heart skipped a beat, not sure if you found it attractive or if it was the fear beginning to swallow you.

You thought he would go for you but he turned around and walked towards the orb. You quickly leapt onto him, trying to pull him back from reaching the prize. Pulling yourself backwards so he would fall back, you wrapped your thighs around his neck as you raised your sword, ready to bring it down onto him.

But he managed to wring free of most of you before you could, sending your sword flying onto the ground a few feet away from you.

“Woah cupcake, you nearly killed me there. That’s a big move for a very small-” Cutting him off, you kicked his knee, making him lose balance, which he, unfortunately, regained quite quickly. You couldn’t even try to reach for your sword.

He grabbed your small hand and clasped it in his tightly before slamming it onto the wall behind you. With heavy breaths escaping both of your lips, you tried to pull your hand away but he was too strong, unmatched for your frail body.

You felt so humiliated and weak and all you wanted to do was run away into hiding. You came here to kill him, not to be killed by him.

“I’ve gotta say, you’re far better at this than I thought you would be.” His face came close to yours and you couldn’t help but stare right into his eyes. Such familiar and kind eyes, filled with trauma and a soul afraid of death because of all it had taken from others.

“I would knock you out but-”

You yelled, grabbing your small knife with your other hand and tossing it up in the air before bringing it down onto his leg, hearing his thundering scream so loud in your ears. But you had no time to be startled.

You tackled him onto his knees and brought the knife up one more time just so you could finish the job. But watching him struggle ignited your long forgotten soft spot for him, the part of you that would always love him and forgive him after everything he had done.

Unfortunately, your hesitation was his escape.

He jumped off the floor, back onto the ground he was running on just minutes ago and you groaned in frustration at yourself before throwing the knife onto his leg, your aim and precision perfect as usual, striking him on his left foot.

You grabbed your sword and jumped onto the ground before standing in front of him again with the expectation for him to be backing onto his knees. But instead, he forced himself up and grabbed your throat.

“Don’t make me do this.” He grunted, squeezing tighter as you began to feel nothing in your fingertips, losing grip on your sword.

No, no, no, no.

You couldn’t lose like this.

Everything was beginning to spin and you just wanted to succumb to it, to run from the pain around your throat. You needed air, or something just to help you get your shit back together.

“Your love has been a lie from the start hasn’t it?” He said and that was it.

It ignited the desire to fight in you and with all the strength you could gather, you dropped your sword and punched his throat, letting him loosen his grip around you and allowing you to drop. Gasping for air while you picked yourself and the sword up. With a scream, you sliced his stomach with your blade, staining it with his blood. You heard the squelch, proof of your job well done.

You tackled him onto the ground and he grabbed your leg, making you slide onto the floor as he crawled on top of you.

“Enough!” He bellowed but you kicked him away and got on your feet before grabbing the hair on the back of his head and making him face you. No words were spoken for a long while, just the rain and the sweat and heavy breathing.

You let go of his head and brought your sword up, ready to swing the final blow. You exhaled, preparing yourself for perhaps the biggest moment of your life.

“Was it?” He breathed out and you stopped but still held onto your sword tightly.

“Was it really a lie?”

A long pause then you realized.

You shouldn’t waste time like this, and entertain him by answering. But he didn’t deserve that, to die with the thought that you didn’t love him and therefore he did nothing wrong. He should bear the consequences of hurting you, sending the flaming agony into your life and encompassing every moment of your life with acrimony from that moment forward.

“I loved you and I wanted it to be you.” You breathed out, feeling all the enmity rise up into you and pour out of you in flames, undiminishable by the heavy droplets of rain falling onto your warm skin.

“I wanted to grow old with you and have a life with you; a simple and easy life.” You continued as you brought down your sword.

“All I had to hold onto was the man that actually cared about me.” You chuckled, letting the tip of your sword touch the ground.

“I thought I wasn’t enough this whole time but it was just…” You looked into his eyes, desperate and longing and it almost made you break down. Fortunately, he dropped his head before you could.

“It was just you. You were selfish and arrogant and that is why you will die today. It’s not my blade, not my hand, not me. It was you that chose this long ago.” You gripped your sword and gulped, feeling the warm tears starting to fall over your cheeks, burning with bitterness.

I wanted it to be you, so bad.

You swallowed your feelings and exhaled.

All you wanted was him. You just wanted late nights and early mornings with him, waking up to his beautiful face instead of an empty bed and worrying he might not have made the night. You asked for simple things and he couldn’t live up to them so why are you feeling guilty?

You had to do this.

Happy endings never did exist in your book and this was just another job, right? It should be easy. One slice and he would be gone. You would get the orb and that would be it.

And finally, he looked up.

His smile was sad.

“So, what are you waiting for?”

With the moonlight above you, you could see his own tears cascading down his cheeks. He looked beautiful even doing that and you wanted to drop the weapon and wipe them away from his face.

But you knew better than that. His love for you had dissipated long ago and all that was left was a pity for himself. At least, that was what you were trying to convince yourself just so you could do this.

You raised your sword and inhaled, gripping your sword tightly.

It didn’t matter anymore. Now was the time.

Revenge is such a petty idea but this was all it was.

You loved him and he had proven it to be less than enough so why do you have to hold onto it?

Your knuckles were turning white and it felt as if you could split them open if you kept holding onto your sword so tightly.

“Goodbye, my love.”

You breathed out the words, feeling the anguish at the last two words, swallowing you whole. But what he said after broke you even more.

“Good night princess.”

Then you finished the job.

a/n: thank you for reading! i hope you liked it and i’d love to know who you imagined throughout! this was something i wrote a while back but i wanted to upload it so here it is!! thank you again, a reblog or like would be appreciated.

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