#Tugging Your Ear With Sky & Rose

[polyo-nym-y]

Bon Appétit~

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Alastor x Female!Reader

| Warnings: 18+ content. MDNI!! ooc Alastor, established relationship(kinda), quick smut with no plot, biting, blood, cunnilingus, fingering, hair tugging etc |

[Part 2 <3]

Hello, I’m Nym! This is my first time posting my writing ever!

This horny little community has me so inspired I couldn’t help but write something small. (4,666 words to be exact ;3 tried to get the funny devil number).

Also fair warning I wrote this a bit intoxicated so I apologize if it’s poorly written. But I hope you heathens enjoy it nonetheless <3

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Alastor retired to his tower as soon as the sky turned to a dark burgundy. He sat on his bench in front of his radio equipment. Fountain pen in hand and eagerly doodling away with a calm smile. Coat retired to its stand and his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Finding these late nights to be rare moments when he could allow himself to relax.

Though both his pen and music paused as he heard the trap door rustle behind him. “Hm?” Amused, he set his pen down and sits up from the bench. Coming around to the hatch he stood right beside it. A deep inhale taken as his grin grew recognizing the familiar smell of you. Bending at his hips as one hand swiftly opened the door. The other hand held out to offer assistance to his surprise guest.

The sudden opening of the hatch earned a gasp from you. Nearly losing your grip on the metal bars that you climbed up. You blinked at the hand offered to you before smiling and accepting the help eagerly.

“Now what do I owe this pleasure?” His usual cheery showman tone buzzed in your ears. With ease, he helped pull you up through the trap door, kicking it closed after. His eyes curiously noted the wicker basket you held in your other arm. “Well no wonder you had difficulty coming in!”

You chuckled nervously as he immediately points out the basket you brought. But what else did you expect? It’s Alastor, perceptive as ever. “The climb wasn’t so hard but by the time I had reached the door I was pretty tired…” you admitted with a glance running up his unusually relaxed form. His grin somehow managed to only make your own smile increase. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important. I couldn't sleep and thought I could just drop in and say hello!" You watched as one of his brows rose, earning an audible swallow from you. "Well, actually, I haven’t seen much of you today... or this week really. So I was honestly getting a bit curious about what you've been up to.” You wiggled the basket to him before setting it down on a small side table. “This is my apology for bargin’ on in.”

“Like always I appreciate your honesty, dear.” He folded his arms behind his back as he followed you to the table. With your back turned to him he took the time to slowly look you up and down. Noting the sweet white nightgown you wore that ended right above your knees. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun and you were wearing your slippers. All of this told him you really were in bed before deciding to come to him. His thoughts hesitated when he watched you open the basket. Pulling out a glass decanter of whisky and two matching cups to go with it.

You turned to face him, jumping slightly when you realized he had moved so close to you. With a laugh you waved him off. “Why don’t you put on some tunes for us, yeah?”

A staticky hum left him as he watched you for a few more seconds. He’d nod softly before spinning on his heels to do as you requested. One hand manually turning the music back on while the other subtly snapped behind his back. The music loud enough to just barely cover the sound of the hatch door locking.

He leaned against the desk of his radio station and watched you again. His grin soft as he couldn’t help but relax even more with the jazz on. “So! You really don’t have anything you wanted to talk about? Truly just stopping by to see what I’m doing ?” He pushed, teasingly.

You poured each other a glass before approaching him with his. He nodded in thanks as he took it from you. “Ha ha! No...” You stood in front of him with both hands nervously around your cup. His pointed questioning had you avoiding eye contact as you downed the small drink in one gulp. Fighting to not contort your face from the bitter taste.

He couldn’t help but laugh into his glass as he brought it up to his lips. “Really?” You caught his piercing gaze that was sent over the cup, before you watched him take a sip. “Because a nice glass of rye, jazz and sweet company.” He stares into his glass before flicking his gaze down to you again. “I really can’t help but feel like you’re trying to sweeten me up~”

The look he sent down had heat quickly washing over your body. Feeling the warmth settle on your cheeks and between your hips. He was teasing you but he didn’t seem upset by your presence. That thought seemed to encourage you, though you definitely needed another drink before you spilled your guts.

A nervous smile being sent to him as you put your finger up. “One- one moment.” You quickly approached the decanter where you left it on the side table. Your cup was filled with just a shot as you quickly knocked it back.

He finished his own drink before mindlessly setting the empty cup on the desk behind him. His smile stretched into a wide grin as he watched you desperately try to gain some liquid courage. He could easily help you right now, as he had an assumption on what this was about. There was no denying the odd connection the two of you had developed during your time here. Unfortunately, he was thoroughly enjoying watching you squirm and he was a very patient man when it came to torture.

Which is exactly what this felt like to you, torture. Staring into the empty cup for only a moment longer before leaving it on the table with the basket. You took rushed steps back up to Alastor as you shot your gaze up to meet his.

“Go on, darling, speak your mind.” He encouraged you with a shit eating grin. Your embarrassment and nervousness began to twist and settle in your stomach.

“I…” you slowly started, watching him tilt his head. Your gaze quickly shot to the side as the rest of your words came out rushed. “I would like to touch you-“

His brows shot to his hairline as he stiffened. He knew your intentions were along these lines. However, the sudden bluntness still caught him off guard.

A nauseating silence settled between the two of you, save for the jazz that still played in the background. You began regretting saying anything as your mouth opened to try and form words. You wanted to take it back with every fiber of your being. Eyes still glued to anywhere that wasn’t him. “I-uh wait no. I don’t mean like that- well I wouldn’t mind but- what I mean is- look you don’t have to say anything I know it’s a strong no and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I just needed to be honest-“

Alastors eyes never left you as he watched your reactions carefully. You never could lie to him and when you did it was never for long and never done well. So he knew your intentions were pure and your words were genuine. Usually, he wouldn’t even bother thinking it over. It never seemed of any interest to him in all his prior years of living and death. However, with you? He found himself weighing his options. Because he also wanted to touch you. He wanted to invade your personal space more than he would usually. You were different to him, it was apparent since day one.

“Alright.” he watched you snap your gaze up to him so suddenly he could’ve sworn he heard your neck crack. Shock written over your features as he pushed himself off from leaning against the desk.

“Wait, what?” You asked stunned as your eyes followed his movements. His body shifted slightly to the bench right beside him, smoothly lowering to sit.

“I’m giving you permission, my dear.” After making himself comfortable he motioned you to come closer. Obediently, you shuffled slowly up to him as he spoke again. “Although we will need to discuss terms first.”

You stopped a foot from his seated form. “Terms?” You questioned half listening. You were more focused on greedily taking in his relaxed state. Shamelessly appreciating the sight of him, no doubt thanks to the two drinks. Your eyes were on his lap, scanning down his exposed forearms and stopping on his large hands that ended with sharp red tips.

“Yes, darling, terms.” He noticed your eyes on other parts of him. Slightly bothered you weren't focused on what he was saying. His hand you were staring at quickly snapped at you and gestured to look up at him. “You didn’t think I’d give you such an honor without getting something in return, did you?” His words were laced with venomous mockery.

With your eyes now held with his you hesitated to speak. Feeling your cheeks start to burn more. “I didn’t.. expect to get to at all, so…” your words were so quiet and uncertain. His ears flicked atop his head as he tried to hear you clearly over the music.

“Speak up, dear, you must use your words properly if we are going to do this.” He leaned back into the bench as he glanced you up and down. Allowing you to deliciously simmer in your own embarrassment. “My terms are rather simple. If I allow you to touch me-“ he placed a hand against his chest. “Then it’s only fair I get to touch you too, right my dear?” Dramatically his hand flicked from his chest to gesture to you. Palm being held out for you to accept. “Deal?”

You swallowed dryly as you stared at his large hand. “You want to touch me?” Eyes flicking between his black palm and his red half-lidded gaze. “And we get like.. free roam? Touch.. anywhere?” The mere thought of having his hands on you had you pressing your thighs together. In this moment, you would let him do anything he wanted to you without hesitation. What you were really worried about was his comfort. If you were to upset him by making him uncomfortable, you’d want to die, again.

A static heavy chuckle was forced from him. The fingers on his outstretched hand flexed impatiently. “I wouldn’t say it’s a want from me.” He lied. “Rather so, curiosity? Yes, let's call it curiosity.” Even now he was going to ensure he had the upper hand. “But if you don't want me touching you and you’d rather just chinning*..” his offered hand curled his fingers in and then withdrew to his lap. “No skin off my nose, dear.”

Physically witnessing his hand draw back had panic rising in you. Like this rare opportunity was about to be lost forever. He watched amused as your eyes widened and you stumbled forward slightly with the force in which you spoke. “NO-“ you both cringed at the sudden rise in volume. “No- I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t want you to- it’s quite the opposite actually..”

He watched you shuffle closer until your knees hit his. Again, he noticed your gaze lingered on other parts of him rather than his eyes. “Then spill. What do you want?”

You chewed nervously on your bottom lip. “I.. I want your touch on me, Alastor. More than my want to touch you. You’d turn Hell into Heaven if I could only have your attention on me..” His smile widened when you finally raised your eyes to meet his again. “But I’m worried about upsetting you, Alastor. Having permission to freely touch you seems…too good to be true? And to hear you intend to touch me as well? Whether it’s a want or just curiosity I could care less. Fuck, Al, I’ll feed that curiosity however you want.”

A genuine and loud laugh rumbled from his chest. “Oh ho! what a desperate and pathetic display you are giving me.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on you. “What can I say? I suppose I’m feeling rather charitable tonight.” Slowly he leaned forward, his hands sliding down his thighs. His fingers gently wrap around your wrists. Watching carefully for any resistance to his touch. “And I promise, Mon Cher, I’ll let you know if I don’t like something. So you needn’t worry about upsetting me.” Truthfully, he’d be quick to wrench your hands away from any area he didn’t like. “You’ll do the same for me, right?”

With a sneaky smirk he brought your hands to his face. Gently grazing his lips across your knuckles. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine as you watched him breathlessly. To his surprise though you shook your head no. “I won’t need to.”

A sadistic glint shined in his ruby eyes as he smirked against your hands. The gentle kindness he planned on showing you began to slip. “Oh? Is that so?” A sudden yank of your wrists had you falling into his chest. His warm hands glided down from your wrists to help guide your knees on either side of him. He fussed with your positioning until he was satisfied with your thighs straddling his lap. Taking a gleeful glance at your flustered expression and rigid body. “You sound so certain. What if I wanted to eat you whole? What would you say then?”

He leaned back into the bench as he observed you intently. Heat settled over your entire body as you stiffly fidgeted on top of him. Embarrassed, you didn’t want to rest your full weight on him. But his hands had a firm grip on your hips, pressing you down ever so slightly to keep you in place.

Sweaty hands hesitantly came to rest on his chest, fingers gently crawling up to the top of his shoulders. “What would I say?” your words slipped from your lips like a whisper. Your desire and need for him outweighed your nerves drastically. His hands squeezed the flesh at your hips when he felt you finally relax into him. Entranced, he watched a soft smile settle on your face before you spoke. “Bon Appétit.”

Chest heaving, nostrils flaring and eyes like a hungry animal. With those words, something snapped in him. It quite literally took everything in him in that moment to not simply swallow you whole right then and there.

His jaw clenched as a loud static began to swarm around the two of you. He felt his mouth water as he swallowed, having to clear the excess saliva that pooled around his tongue. Savor her, he repeated in his head, you must savor your meal. The buzzing static overtook the music completely until it disappeared with a loud pop, earning a flinch from you. His mouth opened with a purr “Merci.”.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down to close the space between you two. His warm lips ghosted across your own, so close yet so far. Every coherent thought you once had was muddled and drowned. The unexpected intimacy that Alastor was giving you had your heart hammering against your ribs. In that moment you decided firmly, you’d completely give in to him and this desire.

One hand of his shifted from your hip and up your side. Talons trailing up until his fingers laced in your hair, pulling the tie that held it up. As you felt your hair fall freely you tried to close the space between you completely. Lips hungrily wanting to capture his.

He was quick, however, as the hand that remained at the back of your head tightened its grip. Fingers firmly tugging at the roots to guide your head back. A desperate whine leaving you as he forced your lips away from his. “What happened to both of us getting to touch? Or is kissing off limits?” You asked half joking as he dipped his head to place a soft kiss under your jaw. His lips settled comfortably on your now exposed throat as he inhaled deeply.

“You are touching, mon cher. A lot more than anyone else has.” He reminded you with a smirk against your flesh. You felt his lips part as warm breath ghosted the vulnerable skin of your throat. Your fingers trailed further up from his shoulders and up the back of his neck. You shuddered against him as his warm tongue licked a wet strip up. “I wonder, do you taste as delicious as you smell?”

“Al-“ you let out a sharp yelp as you feel a hot stinging pain begin to bloom on your shoulder. Instinctively, with your fingers in his hair, you tried to yank his head away much like he did to you. But he refused to be removed from his tasty meal. He let a low growl out with his lips still suctioned to you, a warning. You hadn’t expected him to literally taste you but it was foolish of you to expect anything less from a cannibal.

Your thoughts began to fog as you felt him suck the blood from your wound. His cock twitched beneath you as if the blood he drank from you went straight to his groin. Any previous intentions on partaking on your end of the deal was long gone. You couldn’t care less about where your hands were. The only thing that mattered now was that his hands remained on you.

You bit your lip trying to hold in the small yelps in pain as he attacked the wound he made. Prodding and poking trying to coerce as much blood as he could without literally tearing a chunk from you.

Desperately, needing more than just his feasting mouth, you rolled your hips against his. You stuttered your movements as he sunk his teeth deeper into you in response. Another whimper left your parted lips as his name tumbled out like a prayer. “Alastor-“

He sighed through his nose, having to will himself to release your tasty flesh. Slowly blinking his eyes open as he lifted up with a suctioned pop. Leaning back to take in the beautiful sight of your bloody and bruised shoulder. He watches closely as beads of red quickly begin to pool and drip over your collar bone. Bleeding into the pure white of your nightgown.

“Beautiful, Mon Cher, absolutely beautiful.” His lips parted to show a bloody grin. His eyes were glazed over as if the taste of you was more intoxicating than the drink he had a moment ago. “You did so good.” You felt his grip in your hair loosen as his fingers brushed through. With his now free hand he began to smear the blood on your shoulder, earning a wince from you. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” His hand cupped your cheek and you could feel your blood sticking your flesh to his, like glue. He pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb as he brought his face close to yours again. “Do you want a taste?”

Before you could even begin frantically nodding, he already captured your lips in his. Pulling back just enough to use his thumb to wrench your mouth open. You gave him no resistance as he dove back in. His tongue eagerly exploring the entirety of your mouth. Spreading the taste of your own blood.

He swallowed a muffled moan as both hands slipped to your hips. Fingers digging into clothed flesh as he grinded you into him. “See?” His lips parted from yours with a pink tinged dribble of saliva connecting you to him. “Delicious, aren’t you?”

Quickly, you licked the bloody spittle on his lips. “If I say yes will you-“ a moan interrupted your sentence as his hands continued to grind you against his hardened cock. “-f-fuck please just fucking touch me-“

“I am touching you, mon cher.” His hands slowed to grind on him at an agonizing pace. The friction slick as you fully drenched your panties and began to seep into the front of his pants. “Remember, use your words.”

“Alastor, p-please-“ your words trembled as you tried to retain some sense of composure. But the teasing feeling of him beneath his pants was going to drive you insane. With a shaky breath you leaned away from him. One hand grasping the hem of your nightgown and yanking it up to your chest. Your other hand sliding fingers under the hem of your underwear to pull them down ever so slightly. His gaze shooting down immediately to take in the erotic sight of your pubic hair barely poking out. “Please just eat me already.”

“How could I say no when you’re pleading so sweetly?” In a blink of an eye he had his hands holding you against him. With a chuckle he stood from the bench, his hands cupping your ass to carry you with him. Your own hands quickly grab his shoulders to keep yourself from falling.

You’re swung around as you hear crashing behind you. Alastors shadow-y tendrils quickly swiping his desk clear in order to make space for you. A gasp leaving you as your back is dropped onto the hard surface with a thud. His hands holding your legs at his hips by the pits of your knees. His taller frame towering over you as you lay sprawled under him.

The grin that spread across his face had you squirming. His warm hands pull you by your legs until your ass is completely off the desk. With only your upper half resting against the hardwood, your stomach does flips, feeling like you’ll fall. But his hold on you is firm as he lowers to his knees. Effortlessly, your legs are settled over his shoulders. You’re practically panting in anticipation as you feel him chuckle against your inner thighs. “Nervous, dear? You’re shaking.”

“Shut up-“ A groan is ripped through clenched teeth as he sinks his teeth into the plump flesh of your right thigh. Hissing, you latch your hand into his hair. He gave no reaction to your grip as he enjoys lapping at the new wound. One of his hands sliding up to give your ass a good squeeze.

You hadn’t realized you were clenching your eyes closed until they flew open. Your back arching off the desk as your breathing hitched. The feeling of his warm tongue running up your clothed slit had you feeling sparks. The blood on his tongue seeped into the already damp fabric, adding another stain to you. “F-Fuck- Jesus Christ-“ he ran his tongue up again slowly, ending with a nice flick to your clit.

“Careful, if you moan other men’s names I’ll become rather jealous.” He hummed against your left thigh as he weaseled a hand between your legs. Sharp talons grabbing hold of the fabric of your underwear and tearing it enough to freely expose his meal.

It was a struggle keeping your eyes opened as you leaned your head forward. Freezing, as you were met with Alastors gaze sent over your exposed sex. He was watching you intently as he brought his face closer to your aching core. “I-I think I’d like to see you jealous.”

“I’m sure you would, you naughty thing.” Finally, without anything blocking his touch, you felt him lap his wet muscle up between your folds. A wispy moan leaves your lips as you remove your hand from his hair. Fingers reaching back to ground yourself against whatever you could on his desk.

The taste of you saturated over his taste buds as a pleased groan rumbled in his chest. His hands wrap around your upper thighs in order to hold you in place. His eyes flicked up trying to see what he could of your reactions. He gave up rather quickly though, losing himself to you fully now.

The juxtaposition of his agonizing teasing now being replaced with determined hunger was almost overstimulating. You couldn’t stop the shake in your legs as he twisted his tongue inside of you. The unnatural length of it reached further than you expected.

His name tumbled from your lips so sweetly it only made him crave your taste more. Fingers digging into your hips as he pressed his face deeper into you. Suffocating himself on your scent as his tongue twisted and flicked inside. When his nose pressed against your clit he felt your walls clench. A cheeky smirk forming against your lower lips. A shudder ran down your spine when you felt his tongue slip out from you. But you didn’t feel empty for long as he easily slipped a finger into you, a second quickly following. You felt yourself forgetting how to breathe as he ruthlessly pumped his fingers into your heat. Erotic squelching filled the small space of his radio room. You hadn’t realized until now that the music was off, ensuring he could hear every sound your body offered him.

His tongue lazily licked your juice from his lips as his eyes flickered between wanting to peer at your face and wanting to watch your sweet pussy taking his fingers so well. “Good girl. Such a good girl, my dear.” You were a moaning mess, unable to respond any other way to his praises.

Your entire body tensed as he brought his lips back to your needy cunt. His mouth suctioned around your sensitive clit. Tongue swiping and flicking, assaulting the bundle of nerves. His fingers stopped their pumping as he pressed as deep into you as he could, fingers bending and focusing on a specific spot. He hummed casually as if he wasn’t making you see stars.

Your body lurched forward as both hands flew to grip his hair. “F-FUCK- A-Ah fuck.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers, cock twitching knowing he had you on that cliff. “So close- please p-please-“

“Hm? Wanting to cum already?” His tone was patronizing as he lifted his mouth from you. A whiny sound coming from you as that build up dimmed slightly, keeping you just before that edge. “I’ll allow it. Only if you’re a good girl and say my name as you cum, understand?”

“Y-Yes- just please-please please-“ Another pleased hum rumbled from him as he lowered back to your sopping heat. His lips suctioned around your clit once more, continuing to stimulate both spots. It only took a moment longer and you finally reached your peak. “ALASTOR-“ A pathetic mewl ripped from your throat as it crashed over you in waves. Every muscle in your body tensed, walls clenching and twitching around his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm. His mouth popping off of you as he wore a wide smirk, lips and chin glistening from the mixture of you and his own saliva.

His fingers didn’t stop massaging your walls until he felt your body relax. Only then did he slip his digits out to greedily lick them clean. His tongue finds its way back to the bite on your thigh. Lapping at the wound while it was still weeping blood. “Thank you for such a delicious meal, my dear.” He would purr as you were still trying to catch your breath. Shifting he moved your legs off from his shoulders in order to stand back up. His warm hands wrapping your legs around his waist as he stepped forward leaning into you. He helps lift you up just enough to scooch you fully on the desk once more. Your eyes lazily watch him loom back over you as you try to sit up on your elbows. His smile devious as he slips his red talons under his suspenders, slowly slinking them off of his shoulders as he purred down to you. “What do you say, darling, are you ready for dessert?”

And you then knew that your night was far from over…

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*Chinning: 20s slang meaning ‘talking’.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #alastor smut #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x reader smut

[simplyhughes]

If you’re taking requests, can I get a Hughes brother (I don’t care which one) childhood friend to lovers fluff?

Lake House

The summer when y/n and Luke have given into their feelings (*^ω^*)

WC: 1743

Anon thank you so much for this request! It was a lot of fun!!!

Pairing: LH43 x Reader

Warnings: None (?) just fluffy fluff. There may be grammatical errors, my apologies!!

Stars decorated the sky, painting patterns across the earth. Crickets chirped softly while teasing banter and laughter mingled with the gentle melodies of the top hits radio, enveloping the outdoor patio of the Hughes’ lake house. You and your family had made their way to Michigan every summer, staying with the friends you call family. Your mother and Mrs. Hughes, who insists you call her Ellen, shared a college dorm, and the rest is history.

The two families gathered around a lit fire sharing stories from throughout the year, making up for the time spent apart. You stepped out onto the porch after using the restroom to see that all the folding chairs and loveseats had been filled. You gave a tug to your sweatshirt sleeve, scanning the seating situation to decide your next move. The youngest of the Hughes brothers, Luke, glanced your way, initiating eye contact.

Being the same age as Luke created a unique bond between you, distinct from your relationships with his two older brothers. When Quinn and Jack would sneak out to meet with some girls by the dock, it would be you and Luke in your makeshift fort binging movies. Or when everyone would pile onto the boat to go wake surfing, Luke would stay behind cause he knows you get seasick. It was the stuff like that growing up that made you two so close. Your mothers would gush behind your backs, betting on your future together on who would confess first. But you two were young and oblivious, just living in the moment, cherishing all the time you could be together before summer came to an end.

As your eyes met Luke's, his demeanor changed; his eyes softened but his body tensed. He raised his hand, tapping his leg, signaling you to come and sit with him. For some reason, you were slightly taken aback. It is not like you haven't shared a seat before… you guys used to have sleepovers and share a bed. But it may be the fact that you both are all grown up and that Luke got a whole hell of a lot more handsome. You mouthed “Are you sure?” over to the boy, and he just replied with a nod. The conversations around you continued as you walked across the wooden patio.

"Hey..." you began, glancing down at Luke. His gaze rose to meet yours, and a grin spread across his face as he wrapped one of his large hands around your waist, almost pulling you onto his lap. You followed his lead and took a seat. His arm then encircled your waist completely, and he rested his head on your shoulder. Your body initially tensed at the sudden display of affection, but soon you relaxed against his chest as the two of you eased into a casual conversation.

Luke's older brothers didn't miss his bold actions. Quinn nudged Jack in the side and discreetly pointed in your direction. Jack stifled a laugh followed by a playful jab to the gut by his older brother. “Who knew Lukey had game?” Jack joked with a stupid smirk. Quinn merely shrugged, signaling Jack to halt his teasing before you and Luke caught on.

Throughout the rest of the summer, Luke's gestures did not simmer down. Anyone who didn't know the pair would think they were a couple. Whenever you were together, one of you was always hanging on to the other, like a support beam. If one of you headed to get food, the other promptly followed suit. And if one of you emerged from the lake sopping wet, the other immediately wrapped them in a warm towel. Luke's actions weren't entirely surprising to you. Longing touches, tight embraces, the gentle tucking of hair behind your ear—all felt like natural extensions of your friendship. But both your mothers saw. They saw the subtle dance of affection that whispered of deeper feelings. It was in the lingering gazes, the softness of their voices when speaking to each other, and the way their laughter seemed to harmonize effortlessly. Luke's brothers could see it. They could see the unspoken attraction between you, clear as day. Deep down you knew it, Luke too. Yet both of you could not rattle the idea that the other didn't reciprocate.

The boat ripped through the water under the control of Jack. “Jack ease up man! You're gonna kill us all,” Quinn yelped. Luke, who sat lazily right next to you, just chuckled at their antics. You looked a little pale in the face.

“Hey… You okay y/n?” Luke questioned, dragging his hand through his damp curls.

“Does he not know how to drive this thing?” You complained sluggishly.

“Awh is someone feeling a little seasick?” He teased. “Jack slow down you asshat or let Huggy take over!” He shouted over to the two boys who still happened to be fussing at the wheel.

“C’mere…” Luke slung his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively rested your head against his.

Jack shuffled out of the driver's seat annoyed. He shot a glance over in your and Luke's direction.

“Oh my god, can you guys just kiss and get this over with already… Jesus,” Jack mumbled, letting out his frustration. The color returned to your face as Quinn took over, but the pale was replaced with an embarrassing red. You hid your face in Luke's chest trying to ignore Jack's words.

“Fuck off, Jack,” Luke retorted. “You're such a dick.”

The sun had set and the boat pulled into the dock. The sky was all different hues of pinks, yellows, oranges, and reds. Jack had rushed off the boat to meet up with this ‘rocket’ he was talking to leaving you, Luke, and Quinn. “Don't worry Huggy we can clean this up,” Luke said, gesturing to the empty beer cans, towels, and sunscreen that littered the boat. “You sure?” Quinn hummed. You could tell he was tired; I guess it is hard work being the boat's captain. Luke nodded back at his eldest brother while you let out a groan. The boat bobbed as Quinn stepped off. You shuffled across the boat's floor, grabbing a trash bag. Luke tossed the empty cans into the bag that you held open. “Maybe you picked the wrong sport, Lukey,” you joked as he threw another can in, mimicking a basketball toss. Your teamwork was pretty effective, only taking 15 minutes to get the boat back in good shape. Luke hopped off the boat onto the dock. His hand extended to grab yours.

“M’lady,” He snorted, taking a bow, helping you off the boat.

You hit him with your hips. “Dork,” you rebutted.

As the colors of the sunset faded into the velvety embrace of the night sky, you and Luke found yourselves on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge. The only sounds were the gentle whispers of the wind through the trees that seemed to be as tall as skyscrapers, the crickets that chirped into the early hours of the morning, and the crashing of water as it rolled into the muddy lakeside shore.

Luke let out a soft sigh, his gaze fixed on you with a look that made your heart flutter. You tried to keep your composure, your eyes focused straight ahead. But you simply could not help yourself any longer.

"What are you looking at, Hughes?" you quipped, breaking the silence.

"You," he replied simply, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, your breath catching in your throat as his hand gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a warmth deep within you.

"Me?" you echoed, unable to tear your gaze away from his.

"Only you," he murmured, inching closer until there was barely any space between you.

He took his hand, guiding a piece of your fallen hair behind your ear. His hand then stayed resting on your cheek. Placing your hand on top of his you spoke, "Luke…".

“Can I kiss you y/n?” he interrupted.

Your eyes dilated, still staring back at his. Your throat went dry, parched by the sudden rush of adrenaline, while your heart pounded against your ribcage, drowning out all other sounds. The only thing you could do was nod. He brought his face close an inch away from yours. His hot breath whispered against your cheek. Time stretched, suspended in a haze of anticipation before his lips finally met yours. His unoccupied hand quickly found a new place to reside, resting on your hip, pulling you in as close as possible. Your lips parted, both in search of air. That single kiss was not enough for Luke. He dove back in, pressing kisses to the side of your neck, trailing behind your ear, with his hair tickling your jaw. The new sensation made you gasp, locking your fingers into his hair. “Luke…” you groaned.

Eventually, the heat had worn down, leaving both parties in shock at the events that had just occurred.

“Y/n…” Luke started, “I have liked you- wait no…” he stopped himself. “I have loved you for the longest time. At the end of every summer, my stomach twists itself in a knot. I dread leaving the lake, I dread leaving summer behind, but I dread leaving you the most. I am not sure how I have been able to get myself through the long winters and the busy fall. It may be the lingering thought that I will eventually make my way back to you. You are my best friend, you always have been and you always will be. I don't wanna screw this up, and if you don't like me back we can pretend this never even happened…” he rambled.

“Luke.” You cut him off.

“Yeah?” He quickly replied, turning his eyes onto you.

“We literally just made out you idiot… I would hope I like you back.” His chest sank back in relief with an exhale. “I cannot picture my life without you.” You added with a more serious tone. “We have grown up together and I expect to grow old with you.” Luke didn't reply with words. He pulled you back into a deep kiss.

The sun had officially set, leaving a blanket of twinkling lights. The young couple spent the night together in the wake of new romantic revelations. This was the night where their friendship had blossomed into something more.

#jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes 43 #hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #simplyhughes

[parkerslatte]

Not Fated

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: light smut (grinding). insecure az.

Summary: Azriel hopes that Y/N is his mate. Except that Y/N’s mate died nearly two centuries ago and Azriel struggles with this new information.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

For the first time in his life Azriel was truly happy. His smiles were brighter and he held himself with a sense of content. Whenever he saw the rest of the Inner Circle, he greeted them in a way no one had ever expected before. He was more open and welcoming. No one was used to it. 

Azriel’s leg bounced up and down as he waited for the meeting with Rhys to finish. He was desperate to get to Y/N. For two weeks he had been on a mission and it was the longest he had been away from her since he met her seven months ago. He craved to be close to her. He needed to hold her in his arms again. 

For the eight months Azriel had been with Y/N, he was waiting for the damn bond to snap. He was sure that she was his mate. Y/N understood him the way no one else had before. He never felt as if he had to hide any part of himself when he was in her presence. Azriel hoped that she was his mate. 

“Azriel!” Rhys exclaimed, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“Hmm?” Azriel mumbled, snapping his gaze up to meet his brothers. 

“I said you can go,” Rhys said, his eyes holding a sense of amusement. 

Azriel shot to his feet and was out of Rhys’s office as soon as he possibly could. His heart reached out toward Y/N as he unconsciously made his way to her. Azriel practically ran to Y/N’s house on the outskirts of Velaris.

His heart nearly beat out of his chest as he drew closer. The streets of Velaris were practically deserted and the moon was high in the sky. He had returned to Velaris when the sun still shone brightly and he had been itching to return to Y/N all day. 

Azriel knocked on her front door and waited. His heart was beating out of his chest as he heard her footsteps. The door swung open and Y/N stood in the threshold, looking as beautiful as ever. 

Y/N smiled before throwing her arms around Azriel’s neck and hugged him with so much force that Azriel stumbled back. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, lifting her from the ground. 

“I missed you,” Azriel mumbled into her neck, fingers threading in her hair.

“I don’t want you to ever go away again,” Y/N replied. 

“I won’t if I can help it,” Azriel responded, placing her back down on her feet. 

The two stood just outside of Y/N’s house simply holding one another. The feeling of her body pressed against his was a feeling Azriel wished he could experience all day, every day. He had never felt this way about anyone else before and he hoped that Y/N felt the same. 

“Let’s go inside,” Y/N muttered, pulling back from the hug a little. “It’s cold out here.”

Azriel allowed Y/N to pull him within the house and into the living room. As soon as they were within the warmth of the fire, he pressed his lips against hers hungrily. He had been two weeks without her and now he was desperate for her. He needed to feel her wrapped around him as she panted and moaned in his ear. He needed to feel the gentle caress of his wings that made him go mad.

Y/N pushed him back until he sat down on the couch and straddled his hips. Azriel wrapped his strong arms around her waist, keeping her body close. He claimed her entire body as his own. 

“I need you out of these clothes,” Azriel growled, tugging on her shirt. 

Y/N pulled away. “Not so fast. I want to take care of you tonight. I want to draw out your pleasure.” Y/N dragged her lips across his skin until they met his ear. She whispered. “Because you deserve it.”

A shiver racked through Azriel’s body as he immediately gave all control to Y/N. The grip on her waist slackened as he caressed her thighs. Her lips kissed a path from his ear, to his lips, across his jaw and eventually to his neck. 

As Y/N softly kissed his neck, Azriel shut his eyes, letting out a content sigh. Before Y/N, he had never allowed anyone to kiss or even touch his neck. To him, it was intimate and he hadn’t trusted anyone enough to kiss him there. With Y/N’s kisses he took pleasure from it, he tilted his head to give her better access. He was sure that she could kiss her neck all night and he would be happy. 

Azriel’s hands cupped her hips, not tightly but enough for her to get the hint and begin to move. Y/N groaned as she bit down on his neck causing a shiver to go through Azriel’s spine. He could feel his erection growing. Azriel moaned softly as Y/N ground her hips against him once more. He panted in her ear as she pressed soft kisses back up his neck and across his jaw before hovering above his lips.

With his head tilted up to look at Y/N, he smiled. She looked radiant. Azriel couldn’t believe how lucky he was. All he needed was for the bond to snap. He was sure it would happen any time soon. 

“What are you thinking about?” Y/N whispered, her lips brushing against his.

Azriel gently pecked her lips. “Just how beautiful you look.” He brought one of his hands up and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “You always look beautiful.”

Y/N smiled and pressed her lips against his, her hips rocking one more. Azriel groaned into her mouth. He missed this for the weeks he had been away. He missed the closeness and intimate moments they would share. He missed the small sounds that would slip between her lips. He just missed her. 

“Have you ever thought about the mating bond?” Azriel questioned. 

Y/N pulled back slightly, eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you curious why the bond hasn’t snapped yet?” Azriel asked, his hand cupping her waist. “I feel drawn to you and I believe that you are my mate.”

Y/N let out a shaky sigh. “Az, my love. You aren’t my mate.”

Azriel chuckled. “What do you mean? I have to be.”

Y/N rested her hands on his chest feeling his heart rate increase. She shook her head. “Az, my mate died two centuries ago.”

Azriel looked stunned and felt as if someone had slapped him across the face. “You- you had a mate?”

“I did,” Y/N confessed. 

“But you told me that you had never been in a relationship before.” Azriel felt his body get hot.

“That’s because I wasn’t,” Y/N said. “My mate was my best friend, we were never in a relationship and we never even accepted the bond.”

“You had a mate,” Azriel said, his gaze shifting to the floor. 

Y/N slid from his lap and sat down beside him. She placed her hand on his bicep but he flinched away.

“You never thought to tell me?” Azriel questioned.

“It wasn’t important,” Y/N replied. “He died two hundred years ago.”

“It makes a difference Y/N,” Azriel snapped.

“Why?” Y/N asked, her voice losing its usual kindness. “Is the only reason you are in a relationship with me is because you thought I was your mate?”

Azriel knew that it wasn’t true but he couldn’t find the right words to communicate that. However Y/N took his silence as an answer. 

“Wow,” she said, rising to her feet. “And here I am thinking that you love me for me.”

“Of course I do,” Azriel said, rising to his feet. “I am in love with you.”

Y/N laughed humorously. “Yet you say that me having a mate that died two centuries ago makes a difference to our relationship? Azriel, not everyone is going to end up with a mate! Mates are rare and I was lucky to have one and I was damn lucky that it was my best friend. But having a mate doesn’t mean that you need to love them, you can love whoever you want. The Cauldron shouldn’t decide that for you!”

“Y/N, please,” Azriel pleaded. 

Y/N shook her head. “No, Azriel. This whole time I thought that you fell in love with me. I thought you loved me but the only reason you did was because you thought you and I were mates?”

“Y/N, please listen to me…” Azriel whispered, tears brimming his eyes. 

Y/N looked away from him, her gaze cast down to the floor. “I think you should go.”

Azriel’s heart broke and he regretted everything he had said. Of course it didn’t matter that she wasn’t his mate, he was stupid to think it did. And it was stupid of him to lash out on her for having a mate. His palms sweat as he took a step toward Y/N. 

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m not leaving until you listen to me.”

“Azriel, don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be,” Y/N begged, sitting down on the couch. 

He didn’t listen as he sat down next to her. “I was stupid. It was wrong of me to say that it made a difference.”

“Yes it was,” Y/N agreed, still avoiding his gaze. 

“But I had my reasons for saying that.” Azriel hand twitched in his lap, he wanted to pull her over to his side and never let her go. “I love you like I have never loved anyone else. I love everything about you. I love that you don’t shy away from me and that you aren’t scared of me or what I do. I love that you don’t get uncomfortable when my shadows swirl around you. I love how caring you are, how compassionate. I love your smile and laugh. I love the way you wrap me in your arms whenever I’m feeling down. I love that you love every part of me. I love you.”

Azriel sighed and inched his hand closer to hers. His pinky finger brushed Y/N’s, she didn’t pull away. 

“I genuinely thought that you were my mate, Y/N,” Azriel admitted. “If you were my mate, I thought that it would be the reason you weren’t afraid of me or pitied me. I thought that there was no probable way that someone like you could ever love someone like me.”

Y/N finally shifted her gaze to Azriel and the look on her face hurt his heart. He was the cause of her tears and he hated himself for it. He had hurt her and by hurting her, he had hurt himself too. 

“I have never loved someone so much,” Azriel said, linking his fingers with hers. “I adore you, Y/N and it shouldn’t matter that you aren’t my mate. It doesn’t matter. No one could ever compare to you.”

“Why- why would you think that I wouldn’t love you if we weren’t mates?” Y/N asked, her voice quiet. 

With his other hand, Azriel caressed her cheek and Y/N lent into his touch. “I never thought you could love me because you are everything that is good in the world and I am everything that is bad.”

Y/N squeezed his hand. “Don’t you ever say that about yourself again, Azriel. You are not everything that is bad, you deserve love and you deserve kindness.”

Azriel closed his eyes as he drew himself closer until his forehead pressed against hers. “I don’t deserve you. I hurt you.”

“You did not hurt me, Azriel,” Y/N said. “I understand your hope that we were mates, you have told me about your brothers and how they have each found their mates. And deep down within me I knew you hoped for something like that as well and I couldn’t fulfil that.”

“It doesn’t matter that you can’t fulfil it,” Azriel said. “If I have a mate, I don’t care. I don’t want them, all I want is you.”

“All I want is you as well,” Y/N replied. “I have been in love with you from the moment I met you.”

“I am so utterly in love with you, Y/N,” Azriel said, his lips brushing hers. “I can’t live without you in my life. I wouldn’t know how.”

Y/N pressed her lips to his. “I don’t want you to ever leave my side, Az. You are the one I choose and you are the one I will always choose. And now I am going to show you how much I love you.”

As soon as Y/N pressed her lips to his, Azriel melted and let the tears fall. He was loved.

#azriel angst #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader

[yourlocaltreesimp]

if I was the guide I would try to help link more then just help him with puzzles and where to go next. I would try helping with enemies and bosses by distracting them, help with stealth missions by making noise to distract guards, scavenge for things like rupees, bombs, arrows, food ect, for them, watch over link while he slept,help teach them how to play instruments cuz i doubt they would automatically know how to play, help keep them warm at night, let link vent and not bottle up his emotions,ya know cuz the poor boy deserves some help. Maybe guide reader help teach the links how to fight, cuz time, wind, and maybe legend, hyrule and how to sword fight cuz there's no way time and wind would know how to sword fight when their journeys first began, they were just kids, legend and four might have cuz legends uncle knew how to use a sword and fours grandfather is a blacksmith and in the four swords manga his father is captain of the hyrule knights, hyrule I don't honestly know if the fairies taught him how to fight with weapons, twilight was taught by rusl, sky, warriors and calamity were training/were already knights, wild would definitely have to be re taught how to fight again, and sage already remembered/ relearned how. I don't know how old first, korodai and courage were when they first learned,How would the chain react to that if they remembered? Sorry it's so long.😅

Sorry this one’s been sitting so long! This is going to be a bit of a ramble, but it’ll make sense! Took some liberties!!

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Player/Guide!reader is the epitome of comfort to the boys. Much of their lives they have been taught through experience to trust no one —not even their own goddess— lest they get a dagger in the back. And at first they are cautious. A person with no ties to hyrule who is so eerily familiar with the heroes and utterly bewitching? They’re half convinced you are a trick, meant to play on their insecurities and trauma.

Time gathers his recollections first. He remembers your calm voice correcting his form and swings, your encouragement to keep improving— not with the intent of killing, but with only his safety at heart. He’d buried his blade within the thick trunk of a tree and heard your old whispers through his ears, and it all made sense. That even as his bones were cracked and reformed and the threads of time unraveled, you were consistent. Even when he wasn’t the same him that you loved before, you were back again. Protecting him, even if he didn’t need it. You were arms for him to return to and someone to hold and love.

Legend remembered almost on accident. He’d bolted up from the solid earth, rings snagging at his hair as his fingers tugged at the root. His chest rose and fell rapidly, like that of a frightened animal. You’d cautiously found your way in front of him, talking him down from the world within. Your hands massaged his palms easing the tension and removing his hair from his grip. You’d done this many times before, he realised. You were all he had for the months after leaving Koholint, your unconditional love despite his less than stellar attitude was something he felt guilty to forget. But perhaps now he’d be content to make up for it by letting you keep him there, curled up against your chest… even if he’d get some teasing.

Twilight didn’t actually remember on his own. In fact, he’s so stubborn and protective over the ‘pack’ that he likely wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Epona. For a large part, he trusted her judgment. Most animals did have a keener sense for natural disasters, but she always seemed to have a good sense of character. Sure, it was odd enough she ate right out of your hand with a happy nicker, but she just really liked apples. She’s a horse, she’s easily bribed. But even then, he’s not sure how much bribing it would take for her to lay down and let you braid flowers through her freshly brushed mane. It was trust. From all the other times you did it absentmindedly —occasionally even to him— it seems her trust in character was still sharp.

Warriors was actually slightly embarrassed by how he came to remember. Dripping wet from the rain and favourite cloak littered with mud and holes, he was rather cranky. He got showered and changed —thank the three they were at an inn— and decided to leave the stained and worn clothes as a tomorrow problem. That was until his prized blanket scarf found its way into to your mits. He tried to snatch it back, earning some odd looks and the shutter of the sheikah slate. You were frustratingly difficult to catch. It seemed that hadn’t changed. When he was ultimately successful, however, he realised that you’d actually been making an incredibly successful job at washing and repairing it as you’d done thousands of times before. He remembers you my firelight, cobalt swathed over your lap as your needle glided through the fabric. He remembered trying to imitate your stitches. He remembered how he never quite got it right.

He let you finish working.

Four was having a crisis. Do not let his indifference fool you, this man is a wreck. Best believe that beyond his surprisingly stubborn stoicism, the colors are shaking each other by the shoulders and screaming. Red recognised you immediately. His heart was quite literally moulded after your soft words and carefully love, he couldn’t forget you so long as he had a soul. Green being the mediator between them all and heard his quiet utters. The most honest a man could be that his adoration was infectious. It was you who taught him who he was. Blue took a while. So strong-willed in his stance, the he forgot you were the one to teach him to take a stand. He forgot it was you who willed him to fight for what he loved. Vio fell last, what would you expect of the mind. He hardly noticed it. The way his thoughts timed to you, the way he sought your presence and craved your voice. It was you who taught them how to be separate and yet loved them wholly. And such loyalty could only be payed back.

Wind remembered you in fragments. He remembers his parent by oath, who shielded him from the vast world he was so desperate to see. He didn’t understand it at first. But loosing you, especially when his memory wasn’t fully gone like the others, was rough. He mourned and grieved, even if he didn’t realise it. He missed being cared for. Without the looming question of what favor needed done or when it would go away. He missed you. It took a while to heal. For him to feel ok trusting in people again, even eventually curling up next to Wars when he’d try to sleep. He felt guilty, as if he were betraying you when you dug up dead feelings. But it’s hard to be a rebellious rascal when your partner in crime is finally returned to you especially after you were concerned you killed them. It takes him a while to process your back, but he’s back at your side, tugging you along by the hand as he explains his next devious prank.

Hyrule remembers you through his magic. The way your heart stutters as he heals you is familiar, a beat he’s fallen asleep to many times before and the life within it is one he can’t help but feel… connected to. He keeps a close eye out, his ears wiggling at the familiar music of your laugh and his skin unfamiliar without your own to cradle it. You share a spirit with them, a bit of your soul and theirs and a small both of theirs in you. And yet his mind can’t call out to why. It keeps him awake, taunting at him. But he knows his soul yearns for the part with yours. He knows the rush of your blood and song of your soul. He knows he loves you. Even if he doesn’t get why.

Wild takes so long to remember you for exactly the reasons you’d expect. His mind hides away the most crucial parts of itself in plain sight, never to be noticed or recognized until the memories are far too warped and rotten to actually remember anything. Anything of note, that is. But for what it’s worth, he never really perceived you as a threat. You were homey and comfortable, a trait so unfamiliar to his life of travel, he didn’t care if it left a sword in his stomach. Besides, not any yiga could take on an act that long. He took off the cooked eggs and set them onto a separate plate as you sat quietly, Wind strewn over your torso. You hummed softly the same work song he’d sung for years. One for which he didn’t know the origin, not until hearing you for what felt like the first time again. He couldn’t help but hum along.

Sky was cursed to forget you.

I must preface because he is a lover boy first and hero second. He wouldn’t care who Demise was, nor his business, so long as you were safe and loved. He loved you more than each and every star in the sky. And he’d already began to start planning your home. He knew he loved you. He knew he was made to love you. And that was exactly why he was made to forget you. That loyalty was scary to the gods. That one would devote themselves to another for little more than love in return— Hylia could not risk her heroes to stray. But try as she might she couldn’t surpress you. Not when you were already married, souls intertwined through every timeline. Your role varied, a healer, a helping hand, a comfort, a home, a parent, a lover, a souse. But you were always someone to Link. No matter what the gods declared. He remembered you only after all the others had, but he’s alright with that.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader #link x you #x reader #lu timexreader #lu time #lu twilight x reader #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu warriorsxreader #lu wildxreader #lu wild #lu wind #lu sky #lu sky x reader #lu four #lu four x reader #lu legend x reader #lu legend #lu hyrulexreader #lu hyrule #fir’s library

[vanillacreambunny]

dottore x reader

genre: fluff, hurt & comfort

words: 1950

warnings: reader wears a dress but their gender is not stated, dottore is zandik, most likely ooc, wordy

notes: I wanted to write fluff with a side of hurt and comfort; forgive me if he's ooc. This took me an embarrassingly long time to write, but the fatigue and brain fog made it difficult. I doubt it's quality. As always, I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors that may have gone unnoticed. Thank you to those who take the time to read and comment on my work; it’s greatly appreciated ♥

No matter how well you play the part, you never seem to fit in, the smile on your face failing to reach your eyes and your voice sounding foreign to your own ears. Those who seek you out are not interested in you, but in the one you serve. You exchange pleasantries with feigned interest as they attempt to sway you with words of flattery that only leave a bitter taste in your mouth, enduring fake smiles, and judgmental gazes for your Harbinger’s sake. To them, you are merely his assistant—a means to an end—and although you know better, doubt and uncertainty creep into your thoughts as hours pass, names and faces blurring into one another, and you lose all sense of self.

When the lights become too bright, and the voices too loud, you find yourself missing the comfortable silence of the lab, buried in work, and hidden from eyes that now seem to follow your every move as you excuse yourself, disappearing into the shadows that gather at the edge of the hall. In here, the air is stifling, a heavy weight on your shoulders. They hunt you down like prey, their laughter ripping into you akin to claws would your flesh. He dreads these gatherings as much as you do, however, both of you are subject to Her Majesty’s will. You simply need a moment to breathe.

Shoving your arms into the sleeves of your coat, you step outside into the bitter Snezhnayan cold, enjoying the way the snow freezes to your skin and washes away your worries. The ice glitters in the moonlight—as beautiful as it is dangerous—encrusting the roses in the garden from their petals to their leaves, which serve as a reminder of one’s fate if they are not careful. You prefer this, the howl of the wind as it sweeps across the drifts of snow, while the glow of the aurora shines down upon you, familiar and comforting. The stars are so bright, that a part of you believes you can reach out and scoop them out of the sky into the palm of your hand.

Snow crunches underfoot, the intrusion sending a chill down your spine. You turn, your Vision gleaming in the darkness, elemental energy gathering at the tips of your fingers. No longer in the mood for their games, the sickening stench of alcohol clinging to their every word, and how they watch you, waiting to pounce the second they think you have let your guard down . . .

The Doctor himself stands before you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His cloak billows around his ankles as he bows at the waist and extends a hand to you, beckoning you forward. “May I?”

His voice is deep, rich, a mere whisper on the wind. Your heart leaps into your throat, yet you do not hesitate to place your hand in his, heat flooding your face when his lips graze your knuckles, and the tension eases from your body. His other hand rests at the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, his scent flooding your senses; crisp and clean, reminding you of the forests of Sumeru following a heavy rain. You shiver, but not from the cold.

A soft melody floats from the hall into the courtyard, and he falls into step with the music, his movements gentle and unhurried as you sway to the tune. The voice—befitting an angel—rises and falls in song, echoing off the palace walls and resonating with your very soul; beautiful but melancholic, the notes weaving themselves into your heart. Tonight is meant to bring the people of Snezhnaya together, to boost morale, and celebrate the accomplishments of the Fatui thus far, though you’re simply reminded of the uncertainty of the future as you look up into the face of the man you love. What is there to celebrate, you wonder, when death looms overhead, threatening to take away all you hold dear.

A tear escapes your eye, your chest tightening and breath catching in your lungs. This could be your final dance, and you wish to commit every second to memory, his warmth and the gentleness of his caress, something reserved for you and you alone. Will there come a day when you no longer feel his arms wrapped around you, his presence nothing but an echo of the past; you fear he may slip between your fingers at any minute. Imagining a life without him by your side is a fate worse than death itself.

“Enough.” He stills, hands dropping to your hips and holding you close. You shudder in his embrace as he catches your tear on the tip of his tongue, his breath hot on your skin. “Do not fret, little bird. Simply follow my lead.”

He gives you no time to respond, spinning you out and then back into his arms in one fluid motion, the star-studded skirt of your dress fluttering at your feet. The music swells, reaching a crescendo, and he dips you, your fingers touching the ground. Snow swirls around you—a mesmerizing sight—falling onto your face and clinging to your lashes, the world coming to a standstill. Closing your eyes, you allow him to guide you from the dark recesses of your mind into the beauty of the present, a contented sigh leaving your lips and a low chuckle slipping from his own. These are the moments you cherish, the happiness that accompanies them enough to last a lifetime.

You smile a genuine smile, your gaze flickering up to his masked face, snowflakes in his hair and a halo of moonlight circling his head; a far cry from the monster people accuse him to be. His breath curls in front of him, chest heaving as he lifts you up into his embrace and brings you in for the sweetest of kisses. Tangling your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, you delight in his affections, forgetting about the party and the isolation you felt among the guests. You belong here, by his side, your Harbinger quick to remind you of your place—he sees you, and though he may not always understand you or you him, there is plenty of room to learn and grow, for yourself and for each other. He accepts you, and that is enough.

The cold begins to seep between your lips, sealing the kiss with a layer of frost, and you find you’re not opposed to the idea of spending an eternity in his arms.

Pulling back, he nips your lips, grinning all the while, the sharp points of his teeth glinting in the light. His expression—what you can see of it—is smug, an air of arrogance about him, but the blush creeping out from beneath his mask, and the way his tongue licks at his lips, does not go unnoticed by you. This close, you can hear the way his breath hitches and feel his heart thumping wildly against the palm of your hand, both a testament to his love for you.

“I love you too,” you whisper, and he inhales, his throat bobbing as he swallows. His smile falters, albeit briefly, the Doctor hiding his emotions behind a satisfied smirk and a quiet laugh, one that reverberates through his chest and bleeds into your bones.

He utters your name, softer than expected; you think you may have imagined it. “I—”

Clapping echoes throughout the courtyard, loud and sharp, shattering the peace. Lord Pantalone stands poised on the balcony above, the rings on his fingers bright and lustrous in the darkness, the Harbinger swathed in shadow as if it’s the finest of silks. His saccharine smile leaves little to be desired, and you can’t bear to hold his gaze for long, your face flushing from the interruption. He raises a wine glass in your direction, a mockery of a toast.

Dottore huffs in frustration, unwilling to entertain the Ninth; at least, not now. Without another word, he lifts you off the ground, disregarding your protests.

“Zandik!” you gasp as he swings you over his shoulder, the blood rushing to your head, and the feathers at his back tickling your nose. Lord Pantalone’s smile widens, his golden-eyed stare the last thing you see before Dottore carries you gracelessly into the palace, an arm wrapped around your waist.

The halls are silent, unusually so thanks to the festivities taking place. You pass the occasional Fatuus standing guard, their masked faces stony and backs straight as their Lord Harbinger walks past. Heat continues to rise to your cheeks, your mouth dry and heartbeat ringing in your ears; he never ceases to surprise and fluster you. When you squirm in his grip, he simply tightens his hold, muscles flexing ever so slightly. He could snap you in half if need be, yet you do not fear him. These arms have embraced you countless times, his hands—despite the blood that stains them—have touched you with a softness that is unbefitting of the Doctor, protecting and loving you in the only way he knows how.

Inside your shared chambers, he slips your shoes off with ease and sets you down, the soles of your feet aching. Sliding your coat down your shoulders, he tosses it aside to work you out of the bodice of your dress, large hands massaging the stiffness from your muscles and joints. Warmth floods your body, and you lean into his touch, humming as he buries his face in your neck and presses a kiss to your pulse point. The day proved long and tiring, your nerves frayed and stomach in knots, but the reward is worth the torment.

“Your efforts are commendable, my dear,” he murmurs, removing his mask and setting it down on the foyer table. Eyes as vibrant and precious as Agnidus Agate stare down at you, framed by dark circles and pale lashes. You tenderly trace the scars that web his face, and he nuzzles into your hand, kissing your palm. Standing chest to chest, his hands caress the curve of your back, pushing your dress over your hips until the fabric pools at your feet like stars in the sky. “You have my undying gratitude.”

Your lips brush his cheek, and he angles his head to catch them in a kiss, short and simple but lovely all the same. “I’ll brew a fresh pot of coffee and meet you in the lab,” you murmur, twirling a tendril of blue hair around your finger as you draw him into another kiss, the Harbinger practically purring in response.

“Oh. You speak to me in ways others do not.” His gaze alights with excitement, your heart fluttering at the sight. “Do not keep me waiting long.”

The remainder of the evening is spent in the lab, a place you’ve come to consider your second home. There’s no feeling comparable to this, watching him work, nimble fingers handling Ruin Guard components; a simple project—one that is familiar—to unwind after a busy day. In turn, the lingering stress fades away into a calm that envelops you like a warm blanket, or perhaps it’s the weight of his coat around your shoulders. His voice takes on an animated tone the longer he speaks, detailing his current projects and future ideas, his passion infectious, so much so, that your entire being thrums with excitement. A deactivated core sits in his hands, and your arms encircle his neck as you place a kiss atop his head, your heart full. This is where you belong, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#genshin impact #dottore #il dottore #dottore x reader #dottore x you #il dottore x reader #il dottore x you #reader insert #noelle writes

[little-diable]

In Another Life - Jasper Hale (smut)

After I got a sweet anon request as well as @omgbrcat lovely one, it only felt right to combine these two. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Jasper had once loved a woman, ready to marry her, but time hadn't been on their side, ripping her from their life before she could be his. But now, almost 150 years later, he runs into her again, set on keeping his promise.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, mentions death and abuse (nothing explicit), love through times, throwback to cowboy Jasper, fluff

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (2.9k words)

Stars were covering every inch of the sky, twinkling above as if they were trying to communicate with him. Jasper found himself staring up at them, hands interlocked in his lap, head resting against his saddle. It had been another day filled with riding, making his way through the uneasy territory. 

He was working against time and knew that she could slip right through his fingers if he didn’t make it in time. Perhaps it was his own goddamn fault, he shouldn’t have made any promises, shouldn’t have told her that he’d find her before her parents could marry her off. 

But as her letter had found him, begging him to come home to find her quickly, he had known that their end was close, he could almost taste the bitterness on his tongue, could almost feel her salty tears pressed against his thumb as he wiped them away. She was everything he had always worked for, the one he would die for, there was no way he could lose her, not in this lifetime. 

With trembling hands he reached for his pocket, tugging on the crumpled piece he always carried with him. A picture of her, perfectly capturing that beautiful laugh he could hear ringing in his ears whenever he needed to feel her close. God, she was his everything, the one whose hand he wanted to tie to his with the ring he carried with him, the golden ring with a Jasper stone. 

“Hey,” Emmett slapped his hand down on Jasper’s shoulder, ripping him out of his thoughts. They were waiting in front of Carlisle’s office, ready to drive home together after another dull day. Jasper had his golden eyes set on a woman a few seats down from them, a woman whose sight alone could resuscitate his dead heart. 

“Do you see that woman?” He should have known that Emmett wasn’t one for small movements, staring at her all too obviously. Jasper had to bite down his groan as his eyes fluttered close for a second.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be her. 

“She’s pretty, you should talk to her.” Emmett wiggled with his eyebrows, gaze flickering between Jasper and the woman, but Jasper didn’t give in, holding still as he flexed his fingers. With a sigh leaving him, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a picture Emmett had never seen before. Before Jasper could even begin to explain his distraction, Emmett had already ripped the faded-out photograph from his hands. “Damn, she looks like her!”

“She does.” Jasper’s throat felt all too choked up as if he was thirsty for blood – unable to speak before he got to feast from the red river. He had never been able to shake his grief, held back by the memories that followed him around daily, memories he had only shared with Edward, unwillingly that is. 

“(Y/n)?” Carlisle had opened the door, calling out the name as his eyes wandered from his sons to the woman sitting close. Jasper could only watch as she rose to her feet with a soft smile, walking past him and Emmett before following Carlisle inside. 

“Carlisle?” Emmett caught Carlisle's attention before the doctor could follow her inside, wordlessly asking him to come closer. The doctor murmured something to (y/n) before closing the door and stepping towards the two men. “You won’t believe this! Jasper dated a girl like her back in the day, we need to get them together!”

Emmett reached the photograph out for Carlisle to study it as Jasper rose to his feet with annoyance fuelling his every movement. Decades ago he had accepted his fate, forced to swallow down his anger to accept that he’ll never have her, holding her dead body all through the night. 

“You know,” he could only whisper the words as he held her close. “I would have asked you to marry me today. It took me a while to find a fitting ring, but I’m sure you would have liked this one, darlin’.”

With his eyes flickering down to the ring, he let go of a sigh. Her mother had cried against his chest, begging for forgiveness he hadn’t been able to grant. Time hadn’t been on his side, arriving too late to rescue her from a drunkard whose patience had run out way too quickly, ending her life before he could come to her. 

“In another lifetime I’ll marry you, I promise you that, darlin’.” 

“Jasper?” Carlisle stepped out of his office with (y/n) cautiously following him. “Would you mind showing (y/n) around? She’s new in town, I told her you could tell her a bit about the history of this place.”

He struggled to look at (y/n), remembering the face he’d see every single day, forced to accept that she wouldn’t ever be his. Jasper could only nod his head as he rose to his feet, stretching his cold hand out for (y/n) to shake. 

“Cold hands run in your family, huh?” The second he heard her voice for the first time, Jasper was sure he'd faint any second now, it had the same drawl, the same rumble he hadn’t heard ever since that time over 150 years ago. 

***

“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink, Jas?” (Y/n)’s voice echoed through her apartment, preparing herself a drink as Jasper got himself comfortable on her couch. It had been a few days since their paths had crossed, instantly clicking as he had showed her around town, guided by the thick grey clouds and drops of rain. 

“I’m good, thank you, darlin’.” He loved the smile tugging on her lips whenever he called her that, enjoying the way he held the same power over her as she held over him, guiding the two closer together with every passing day. At first it had almost been scary how similar (y/n) was to her, reminding him of all those loving memories he had never been able to shake. By now he was simply grateful for getting a chance to feel (y/n) close, struggling to keep a respectful distance. 

“You’re quiet today, what’s going on in that head of yours?” (Y/n) sat down next to him, she reached for a blanket to throw over them both. Slowly she had adapted to his cold body temperature, trying to stop herself from shuddering whenever he touched her, torn between the unfamiliar longing she felt and the coldness he emanated. 

“Too many things you’d call me insane for.” The raspy chuckle clawing through Jasper spurred on her curiosity, forcing (y/n) to shuffle even closer. Her eyes wandered over his features, taking in every inch of his handsome face, but especially the lips she wanted to feel pressed against hers. 

“Now you have to tell me, you know how nosy I can be.” He felt her body pressing against his, subconsciously searching his closeness. Jasper found himself torn, torn between the chance of letting her in on the family secret, on the memories he desperately wanted to share with her, and the danger of her running from him, a danger to every member of his family. “Is it that bad? Are you secretly married with two children? Am I falling in love with a criminal?”

For a second, neither of them moved, caught by the confession she had spoken before thinking twice. Her wide eyes found his darkening ones, squealing in surprise as Jasper pulled her into her lap. Carefully he cupped her warm cheek, pulling (y/n) in for a kiss. Their lips moved in sync, careful at first, having to adjust to the new sensation as her heart kept picking up its beat, begging him to pull her even closer. 

“In love, huh?” He rasped his words against her lips, leaving (y/n) chuckling as she hid her warm face in the crook of his neck. Jasper wrapped his arms around her middle, eyes set on the window that gave view of the pouring rain, of the forest she lived close to. 

“What would you say when I told you that I have been alive for longer than you think? What would you say when I told you I have already loved you in another lifetime m?” She froze in his grasp. Jasper had expected her to break out in laughter, to make fun of him for speaking insane words like these. But she didn’t, (y/n) kept quiet in his hold as different emotions began to flush through her.

“What do you mean by that?” Slowly she pulled away, still sitting on his lap though with her weary eyes focused on his face. Jasper held eye contact as he reached for the photograph he had shared with Emmett and Carlisle days ago. Wordlessly he pushed it into her grasp, watching (y/n) study the woman with dilated pupils. “She looks like me.” 

“She does.” No further word left Jasper, unable to give room to the pain he felt, hoping that (y/n) wouldn’t run from him. 

“Tell me about her.” It felt like a joke, not understanding how (y/n) could focus on her rather than on the fact that he had told her about his age, about the life that was so different to hers. 

“She was my first love, I swore to marry her, but I was too late. She was dead before I could rescue her from the marriage she had been forced into.” Tears welled up in (y/n)’s eyes as her gaze flickered back down to the photograph. She traced the picture with her thumb, sharing the pain Jasper had carried deep inside of himself for decades. 

“When was that?” It was just a whisper, unable to speak with any more strength as tears began to roll down cheeks. Carefully Jasper wiped them away, softly smiling at (y/n), once again reminded of how caring she had been. 

“About one hundred and fifty years ago.” His words were followed by silence, a sillence so thick one could cut it with a knife. She didn’t move away, forced her teeth into her lower lip and kept staring at the picture. “I understand if you don’t believe me, it sounds insane, I know it does.”

“I need time to think about that.” A hum left Jasper, grateful that she hadn’t pushed him away till now. Slowly he tried to push her off his leg, set on leaving her apartment to give her enough time to think about the information he had just shared with her. “What are you doing, Jas?”

“Giving you time and space?” The confusion dripping from his words drew a chuckle out of (y/n). She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him down and kissed him again. This time their kiss grew heated rather quickly drawing moans and groans out of them as Jasper shifted them around. (Y/n) found herself pressed against her couch with Jasper hovering over her, not daring to part from her just yet. 

“Don’t leave me, even though I need to wrap my head around the fact that some supernatural stuff is going on around here. For tonight I just want you to hold me close, to make me yours. If you’ll have me.” A growl crawled through Jasper as she murmured the words against his lips. His hands did quick work on his shirt, pulling it over his head with hers following moments later.

“I hope you know that once I make you mine, I won’t ever let you go again. Eternity is a long time to spend together.” She was too distracted by his wandering touch to fully focus on his words, torn between the lust pushing through her and the exictement of feeling Jasper close. It was way too easy to guide her, to make her follow every command as he held her close, set on loving her through the night before he’d fuck her properly in the early morning hours. 

“Use your words, darlin’. Tell me what you want.” Her bra fell to the ground, exposing her naked chest to Jasper’s wandering eyes. He dipped his head down to suck on her hardening nipples, hands grabbing them with just enough force to leave her gasping. (Y/n) arched her front into his touch, eyes fluttering close as he kissed his way further down south. “I asked you to speak up, didn’t I? Be a good girl for me, otherwise I’ll stop touching you.”

“I want you everywhere, want your mouth, your cock.” A raspy chuckle left Jasper as his nimble fingers worked on her trousers, freeing her from them with her damp panties following. She felt like a goddess, a goddess Jasper now marvelled at with an exciting darkness laced in his gaze. His eyes flickered up to meet hers as he forced himself between her thighs, grateful for the big space her couch offered. 

His tongue ran over her arousal-covered folds, drawing high moans from her at the unexpected touch. Her bundle pulsed against his cold thumb, making her feel as if she was on fire, even though his cold hand offered the perfect contrast. (Y/n) choked on his name as he circled her clit, tongue dipping into her tightness with a satisfied groan leaving Jasper. 

He could stay between her thighs till morning rose, pushing her over the edge again and again, high on her taste, on the sounds rumbling through her. Not once had he experienced a longing this deep, wanting to hold her close till their end of time, needing to taste her at any given chance. 

“My god, Jas, you’re so good at that.” Jasper chuckled against her cunt, adding even more speed to the movements of his thumb, wanting to watch her cum on his tongue before he’d fuck her. It didn’t take long for (y/n)’s moans to grow breathy, clawing her fingernails into the fabric of her couch to hold on before she’d pass out from the intense sensation. “I’m so close, fuck, let me cum, please.”

“Let go, darlin’, cum for me.” Her first orgasm of the night clawed through her without another warning, ripping her into another dimension as Jasper supported her through it. The smile he wore on his lips was almost devilish, urged on by the chance of feasting from her. He watched her with curious eyes, waiting for her next movements, wondering where this night would lead them to. 

“Jas,” (y/n) panted his name. “I need you to fuck me now, let me feel you, all of you, I’m on the pill.” She watched him rise to his feet to shuffle out of his clothes, exposing his hard cock to her wide eyes. Her greedy hands pulled him down for a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself stuck to his tongue. She felt him brush the tip of his cock through her slit, giving her another chance to inhale a shaky breath before he pushed into her.

Both moaned in unison, clinging to one another as he twitched inside of her. Jasper started on a slow rhythm, allowing (y/n) to adjust to his size. Only as she clawed her fingernails into his shoulder, did Jasper’s thrusts grow more ferocious. Their bodies met with every thrust, letting the sounds echo through her apartment, followed by their moans. 

“You feel so good, darlin’, so fucking good.” He moaned against her lips, staring down at her with love and lust laced in his gaze. (Y/n) choked on her sobs, holding him close as her walls fluttered around him. 

Jasper pulled out of her without a warning, momentarily leaving her empty. He flipped her around, pressed her against the armrest of her couch before he pushed back into her from behind. He held her against his chest with one hand, while the other found her overstimulated clit, pushing her closer to the edge. 

They watched the rain pour from the sky as he fucked her breathless, unable to focus on anything but the feeling of Jasper buried deep inside of her. She felt her orgasm about to rush through her again, tightening her grip on his forearm as she choked out his name. Jasper only groaned against the back of her neck, trying to keep himself from forcing his teeth into her skin right there and then. 

Both came with their bodies clinging to one another, with her heart racing, with sweat pooling on her forehead and his body shaking in excitement. Jasper stayed buried inside of her for a while, wordlessly holding her close to allow (y/n) to relax in his grasp. 

“If you always fuck like that, I think I can accept being in a relationship with something supernatural.” Breathy chuckles left him as he parted from her, picking her up to carry her towards her shower. He pressed a kiss to her swollen lips, and at that moment he made a silent promise to himself and to her. 

This was another chance at their life together, finally allowing him to love her in another lifetime.

#Jasper Hale smut #Jasper Hale x reader #Jasper Hale imagine #twilight

[irishmammonagenda]

hiiii ! ^_^ I love your writing sm

I was listening to music just relax, and randomly I thought of MC with "You're loosing me" AND I HAD TO SHARE IT WITH SOMEONE. Especially from minute 3:00 to the end 😭😭😭😭 imagine a fic inspired in that song with a traumatized mc after their death 🥲

hiya!! i'm so glad 🫶🫶🫶🫶 tbh i dont really listen to taylor so i had to look up this one, but oml it kinda does fit MC sm???!!!

honestly tysm for the ask, i don't normally write seriousish fics so this was a fun change grma <3

ALSO IM SO SORRY THE TITLES SO CRINGE I COULDNT THINK OF A GOOD ONE

Surface Tension- Obey Me x Reader

Summary: MC died 😱 and reincarnated as a demon, only their death affected them more than they thought. Word Count: 2.8k+ Warnings: Mentions of Death, leans more into Lucifer x Reader, especially at the end. (i am so sorry abt that I had no idea where this fic was going myself tbh) Descriptions of drowning. Hurt/Comfort? I have no idea how to write trauma I am so sorry, (this isn't apart of my 'Death is a Debatable thing Au) dividers are a mixmatch of ones by @plum98 @isisjupiter and @cafekitsune bc im indecisive

The thing you missed most were your pact marks. Intricate designs etched into your skin, that shone the colours of the people you loved, a reminder you were someone. You had something. A security blanket of sorts. Now they were gone, clear glass sin, almost poreless, uncanny replaced the lines and marks and humans´ perfect imperfection that provided a canvas for the hues that you were sure had painted your heart.

It hurt.

You fiddle with your hands, trying to contain the urge to just...pop. The horns and the tail had been disorienting to get used to. You still preferred your 'human' form, the only issue was controlling it. It would come with time, or so everyone had told you.

They told you a lot of things would come with time. You weren't so hopeful.

"I....it's just-" you flick your gaze around the room, looking anywhere but the demon in there with you. "...the dying part..."

"The dyin' part..." Mammon sits by your side, ever your first man, his eyes gaze at you, so loving, so adoring, it hurts your heart. "I don't understand the dyin' MC....I couldn't never understand the dyin'...." He brings a hand to rest on yours hesitantly, his false bravado nowhere to be found.

"I know you don't Mams..." You meet his gaze, his eyes as blue as the sky on a summer's day, warmer than the sun, and softer than silk when he looks into yours.

"It doesn' mean I won't try te....understand...I mean." He clears is throat awkwardly. "There's nothin' I wouldn't do for ye...not now not ever."

Your heart feels heavy.

Rushing water beats against porcelain. Steam slowly rose in swirls as the bathtub filled up. You fold your towels and set them by the sink beside the clothes you had set out. Pulling the satin robe that was a gift from a certain Asmodeus, you placed it on one of the hooks on the door, before twisting the taps to a stop. You submerged yourself into the warm water, your tense muscles relaxing as you leaned backwards in the tub from where you were sitting, legs touching the bottom of the porcelain. 

It had been so long. 

So long since you were able to just relax like this. You loved the brothers and the others, but sometimes you needed the solitude of your own thoughts. That wasn’t to say Asmo’s self care nights weren’t relaxing. 

You sighed. 

The water enveloped you, you had leaned back enough to where your head had begun to submerge. All was well. The water was warm, your muscles slowly relaxed, along with the rest of your body. Your eyes slowly blinked closed. 

All was fine. Your relaxed muscles let your head fall back. All was well. Your ears were now submerged. All was fine. 

Except it wasn’t. A switch had flicked. Your eyes shot wide open. You could no longer feel the bottom of the porcelain bathtub, panic and dread tugged at your arteries, squeezing your jugular. You flailed and thrashed your limbs, your head dipped under for a millisecond. 

Clear water turned murky. 

Your arms burnt after another weak attempt, head breaking the stormy surface of the lough for a moment; only a moment. Hardly long enough to draw a breath. Your eyes stung. Your throat ached, desperation choked at your airways. 

You found yourself submerged again. The currents slammed into rocks. Your hair rose upwards, strands sticking to your face like some sort of seaweed, hindering your vision as the waves flung you against hard rock. Your hands clawed at the stone, too slippery to catch a grip. The stormy water slammed you against another rock. You broke the horrid surface of the water, gasping and spluttering. Your throat burned like sinners in the 7th circle of hell. You just barely gasped in a morsel of oxygen before being dragged under by the force of the waves. 

You were slammed mercilessly into another hard wall of stone, your attempts at clawing for a grip so desperate you drew blood at your fingertips. 

You had survived demons, witches, angels. You had survived hell. Yet earth would be the one to take you out, so it seemed. You couldn’t hold your breath any longer, your mouth opened. You inhaled desperately, lungs aching for air. Water filled them instead. 

You gasped and spluttered. The surface of the water too rough to do a dead man’s float without risking your life further. The waves smacked you against hard rock once more, eroding at your hopes for survival. 

This was it. 

You were going to die. You’re drowning. You’ve drowned. 

The last thing you felt before you succumbed to the wild waves was the dull glow of your pact marks. With the last of your strength, you let out a silent scream, submerged by the water. 

You screamed. Frenzied hands pull your sobbing form out of the clear water of the bath pulling your soaked, sobbing form to their chest. You gasp for air, lungs burning. 

“MC! Y-you’re fine! Don’t worry…you’re okay…you’re okay…!” An uncharacteristically frenzied Beel holds you to his chest, massive arms enveloping you, he cards a gentle hand through your hair as you sob and upheave, your chest tight and your breath running from you. “You’re okay MC….follow my breathing…”

Hardly hearing him, you comply either way. Matching the breaths of the sixth born, your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing begins to even. Eventually, you sit wrapped in the arms of the Avatar of Gluttony, breathing deeply and slowly, your heart rate slowed, your sobs quitened to the occasional sniffle, the tightness in your chest remains. 

You chuckle humourlessly. “I’m sorry Beel….got your clothes all wet.” 

Beel shakes his head seriously, eyes on yours. “It’s never a problem. Not if it’s you MC.” He stands up with you still in his arms. Carefully, the redhead sets you down on your two feet. Strong hands on either side of you, a stabliser. “C’mon…let’s get you dressed MC…can you stand?”

Slowly you nod.

That night you found yourself in the living room, Belphie asleep, head on your shoulder. Mammon splayed across your lap, Asmo’s arm around your waist, Beel was on the other side of his twin, but held your hand, rubbing soothing circles subconsciously into your palm. Levi sat on the ground, switch in hand, cheek leaning against your thigh.  Satan and Lucifer sat on the nearest armchairs though they sat facing opposite each other, Lucifer half reading official documents, half watching the show his brothers and little human demon were watching, Satan doing the exact same, except his reading material was a book. 

You weren't sure how or if they knew what had happened an hour prior, but you were sure they knew this would cheer you up in some capacity.

You squeezed Beel’s hand, the knot in your chest coming undone just enough you feel light.

The transition from Human to Demon was a hard one to get used to, one thing that hadn't changed however; were the balls hosted by Lord Diavolo. The only difference being that now you sported curved horns on the top of your head. You quickly found that Asmo liked to decorate them with little trinkets.

Which he had done today, as well as helping you pick out your outfit for the ball. You gave a twirl in one of his full length mirrors.

"Thanks Asmo I love it." You smile, messing with an ornament on your horn. Those are taking a while to get used to.

Asmodeus laughs gleefully, waving his hand. "It was nothing darling. I'd love to do it again! Oh...~ You look so gorgeous...." He says dreamily before he turns back to his makeup, carefully lining his lips in a dark pink.

You blush at the praise before leaving the room, not wanting to risk being (fashionably) late.

"MC!" Lord Diavolo greets cheerfully, pulling you in for a hug against his bare, tanned chest. The gold in his eyes and horns glow like fire in the light of the ballroom. "I'm so glad you could make it! You look stunning!" He laughs, strong arms wrapping tighter around you.

You smile, "I'm glad to be here, Dia."

"I'm glad..." He says softer now. If the both of your words were an innuendo, neither of you pointed it out.

Barbatos appears silently at the left hand side of the Demon Prince, shaking your hand, you give him a sweet smile.

You barely get to greet him before the Demon Butler swiftly makes his way across the ballroom, and out of the glazed, oak door that led to a short corridor and then led to the kitchens.

After more peasant conversation with Diavolo, another Demon Noble had arrived, the scarlet haired prince pouted at the thought of leaving you before waving and making his way towards one of Hell's Aristocrats.

You wave him goodbye, you scan the Ballroom, eyes locking with violet ones. The seventh born gives a small smirk, lazily making his way toward you.

Belphegor had seen your dreams. He had felt the water pool into your lungs, the air escaping your grasp, the harsh bruising of the rocks you were slammed into.

He saw every dream, tried to stop them from reaching you. Sometimes he failed, your mind wanted to return to that moment. To pick it apart, to relive what it didn't understand itself, to find an impossible answer.

Sometimes your mind, your wonderful, horribly beautiful mind; would be too adamant, would loop back to it.

He didn't protect you. Not when he first betrayed you, not when he crushed your bones in his grip.

He couldn't protect you. Not when you were flung from rock to rock, sharp edges digging into fragile skin. Not when water burnt through your throat like fire.

He couldn't protect you. Not when your dreams bypassed his control. Not when the thin threads of your trauma induced nightmares slipped through the cracks.

The Avatar of Sloth could only do so much, yet, it never felt like enough. He couldn't protect you.

"Hey Belph!" You grin, closing the distance between the two of you. "You seem distracted, whats up?"

Belphegor snaps out of it, lips upturning. "Oh nothing, I just thought of something for the Anti-Lucifer League....What about you, MC, enjoying yourself?"

"For the most part yeah! But I haven't seen Mammon anywhere...." You say thoughtfully before deadpanning. "He's going to be strung up upside down by tomorrow morning, isn't he?"

"Yep."

Hours passed, a sleeping Belphegor had been handed over to Beelzebub, who was currently carrying his twin home. You were tempted to ask to join, but decided against it.

You weren't made of glass, you had agency. You could handle a silly ball.

Standing in one of the corners, beverage in hand, you'd elected to just people watch for a while.

Levi sat semi-hidden by a curtain at the grand window, switch in hand, noise cancelling headphones in, no doubt reaching the end of his social battery.

Satan stood at the other side of the Grand Hall, talking with contacts and connections you couldn't recognise. Golden blond hair perfectly in place. Asmo must've fixed it up for him.

Speaking of Asmo, he was on the dance floor with various succubi, giggling, smiling, and just in general being a social butterfly.

Mammon however, was still no where to be seen. Probably looking for treasure. Classic Mams. You smile to yourself.

Lucifer stood, being entertained by admirorers of all shapes and sizes. You stiffened.

Sometimes you forgot the brothers were Hell's Most Eligible Bachelors. It was easy to forget, seeing as you lived with them, and they were all idiots.

You could feel Levi's worried eyes on you none the less. Your stomach twisted with his sin, orange as a yolk, what came first? the chicken or the egg? You didn’t know nor did you care. Why would Lucifer choose you anyway? A weak human demon who couldn’t even survive a…-

You gripped your drink tightly, knuckles lightening. You took a sip, but with your tense muscles, the liquid burnt its way down the wrong side of your throat.

You spluttered.

Even the droplet. Even the sip. It grew, multiplied even, filling your lungs like goop, you gasped for air. The ballroom flooded a murky green. Stumbling, you pushed through the oak door to the hallway, where it was quieter.

Your heart beat out of your chest, your breathing was laboured, leaning against the wall, you lost your boyancy, dripping down until you sat on the ground, knees to your chest.

You stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath, engaging your senses.

Three things you could hear;

Idle chatter from the ballroom, completely muffled by the heavy wooden door and stone walls. Your own laboured breathing, although it was catching up to you. The blood rushing in your ears, evaporating from a rapid raging river to a small sparkling stream.

Three things you could see;

The stone wall, dark liath limestone blocks and bricks melded together, midievil in their design, they reflected the light of the overheard torches in a subtle, orange glow. The glazed panes of a glass window, the moon shone bright tonight, as it always did in the Devildom. You liked to think it was watching over you. Maybe it was.

If you turnt your head to the left, an archway was visible, a simple one. It dug into the stone wall and ceiling, pushing against the internal structures, standing out whilst holding together.

You continued your listing, smell and taste were ruled out, on account of you not being able to taste, and there not being any real noticable smells.

Three things you could feel;

The fabric of the clothes Asmo chose for you streched on your skin, the seams digging into your thighs where you sat on the ground.

The stone floor, hard and cold, even with the layers you had on, you shivered ever so slightly.

And lastly, you could feel the phantom ache of pact marks long faded, your heart heart, though it had stopped beating out of your chest. You felt calmer, more in control, yet still;

You sniffled.

After all; you didn’t have the best track record for keeping your head above water.

That’s how Lucifer found you. The door hissing open and his signature boots clacking softly along the ground announced his presence.

“MC, my love, are you alright?” He raises an eyebrow, The Avatar if Pride putting his aside and hunkering down so that he was more or less eye level with you, concern pooled in his expression. He reached a gloved hand out and caressed your cheek.

You nod, croaking out an "I'm okay now..."

"Are you sure, my darling?" The first born looks into your tired eyes, before tilting his head, asking for permission. You grant it.

He pulls you in for a hug.

"What upset you, dove?" He asks softly, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"I-...I just feel like I've...like I've lost you all...and myself I guess...It sounds stupid! I know...but I just...-"

Lucifer hushes you, "Nothing you could say could ever sound stupid. He pauses. "Unless you're with Mammon...or planning something with Satan and Belphie."

That squeezes a giggle out of you. He smiles, tilting his head, a strand of raven hair falling ever so out of place at the movement, crimson eyes stare into yours.

"But that's not all, is it, dear?"

You mumble something unintelligible, but count on Lucifer Morningstar to hear it. "Have I told you yet? That you look absolutely gorgeous tonight, MC?" He asks in all seriousness. You avert your gaze.

He grabs your chin softly, "I'm serious, Darling. You're the best person at this ball, the best thing that has ever happened to my brothers...to me. Sometimes I feel you truly don't realise that...seems I must take care to remind you more often, my love."

You try to speak, but the air swallows up your words, your mouth open and gaping like a fish.

Lucifer's lips quirk up, he pulls you closer to his chest. You lean into him, giving a weak smile, ear pressed against his breast, listening to his heartbeat.

You felt calm; content even,

T he hug wasn't a fix it all. It wasn't some magic wand that had been waved, you weren't suddenly better. You were still traumatised, that emptiness, though dull, still ached in your heart, along with the places on your body the bright beautiful symbols of your pacts had been sketched onto your skin.

The hug was comforting none-the-less. Lucifer was impossibly gentle. He would cradle the ashes until you built yourself back up again in his arms, phoenixes need time to adjust before they can spread their wings, after all.

It would be hard. It would be so so difficult, so taxing, to rise from the ashes once more, to thrive again, but you had an army of idiots that loved you, who would go to the ends of the earth just to see you smile. It wasn't okay yet, you weren't 'fixed', you wouldn't be for a long time but you had years upon years, decades upon decades, centuries upon centuries.

i physically cannot write anything overly angsty bc im a wee softie smh this took me ages i am so sorry abt that </3 also i had another ask that i started planning out halfway through writing this and the contrast in the tone i was going for is so funny🧍‍♂️

#obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #omswd #obey me mc x lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me fluff #obey me angst #obey me scenarios #obey me drabble #ask

[deerislable]

hello! can you write fluff with remus where he and y/n stand somewhere at the hogwarts balcony at autumn enjoying view at the night stars?? or something like that

Of course! This request kind of links in with my first fic since i talk about astronomy haha! thankyou for the request <3

Warnings (not really warnings i guess haha): slightly jealous Remus? short/small reader, can be read as an already established relationship (first kiss), gentleman Remus<3

“It’s chilly up here” you stated, arms coming up to cross your chest as you ran your palms up and down your arms, seeking warmth, your eyes immediately landed on Remus, his back turned to you. He was slightly bent down, looking into a large telescope pointed to the stars. 

Remus had made you come up here, he said he wanted you to see how pretty the sky looked tonight- one of the clearest nights in September. 

Upon hearing your voice, Remus spun around, taking his hands off of the telescope his attention was just on, giving you a quick look up and down, a smile gracing his lips before making his way over. Without a second thought, he tugged at the hem of his jumper, pulling it up and over his head and your attention snapped to where his shirt underneath rose with the woollen material, revealing a sliver of skin and a few scars that painted the exposed area. Quickly, your eyes flicking to his arms instead, as to not be too obvious with your ogling, not that Remus would mind, he loved when he caught you staring as it made you ‘shy’, that’s what he says anyway. You immediately noticed the goosebumps that rose across his fair skin, feeling a bit guilty that he was so kind to offer his only object of warmth. His problem with being such a gentleman.

 “Arms up” he instructed and once you did it he pulled his sweater over your head, a grin replacing the smile on his lips from how big it was on you- though that was definitely thanks to Remus’ tall stature. 

“Come here, sweetheart, let me show you something” he said, guiding you over to the telescope he was just standing at, palm splayed across your lower back, feeling his soft jumper on you since you were shorter did something to Remus, it made his brain all fuzzy and it made him want to be even closer to you, touching you. You let him move you, always enjoying how his bigger build let him do anything he wanted. Once you both made it to the telescope he tilted it down slightly and gestured for you to look into it 

“wow..” you mumbled, seeing the constellation so clearly you thought the telescope must have been charmed with an unbluring spell.

“Canis Major” Remus whispered near your ear and you pulled away from the telescope to look at him, he offered you his hand and you took it without hesitation and he took you over to the edge of the balcony so you could see the constellation with your own eyes. 

“And if you follow it down..” he mumbled, moving to stand behind you, bending down slightly so his head was almost hooked over your shoulder, his hand trailing across your shoulder, down your arm until he held onto your hand, stretching your pointer finger out as he directed it to the stars, “that ones Muliphein..” he whispered in your ear, an exhale slipping past your lips from the sensations his voice brought you “and that one is-” he started,

“Sirius..” you both whispered at the same time and you turned to look at him over your shoulder, a smile spreading across your lips matching his own. Remus pulled away slightly and you were kind of glad he did as you could look at him properly and he moved to stand beside you. “How did you know that?” Remus half whispered, “I didn't realise you doubted my knowledge on astronomy, Rem” you replied, looking up and into his green eyes, but now in the darker light, they appeared more hazel.

“Well, i knew it because Sirius doesn’t shut up about it” he huffed an air of laughter from his nose “well.. I know it because I studied it..” you replied, somewhat hinting that you were smarter than him and he rolled his eyes, clearly realising that “studied Sirius’ constellation?” he raised an eyebrow, and if it wasn't for his grin and playful tone, anyone would think he was jealous.

You nodded and Remus’ grin faltered for a second, though you didn't catch it, too preoccupied with taking his hand into yours and moving him back to the telescope. You adjusted it to the right constellation, stepping out the way so Remus could look in, he looked at you with a confused expression for a moment before bending down and looking into the telescope.

“What constellation is that, Remus?” you whispered in his ear this time, and you swear you saw his adam's apple bob up and down. He pulled away from the telescope, looking down at you with a newfound fondness, “the Lupus constellation” he whispered, moving his hand out to grab your hand and pull you closer, “Lupin is derived from that, isn’t it?” you asked quietly, almost innocently and you swear Remus’ eyes shimmered, you had studied his constellation. Something that wasn’t as obvious as Sirius’. 

Remus was quick with his movements and brang his hand to the base of your neck, pulling you closer as he dipped his face to yours, your hands moved to his chest as if to brace yourself, lips parted “yes..” he whispered breathlessly and closed the gap between you both, sealing your lips together in a gentle, yet very needed kiss.  

It wasn’t too long before he pulled back, his eyes immediately opening so he could smile at you, a smile that you matched even wider.

“Now.. can we talk about how ironic it is that Sirius’ star is ‘The Dog Star’” Remus chastised and you couldn't help but laugh loudly.

#marauders #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #marauders x reader #remus lupin #remus x reader #james potter #remus x you #remus x y/n #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x you

[marshmallow-phd]

Genre: Regency Gothic AU

Pairing: EXO x Reader

Summary: A stormy night brought you to the manor in the middle of the woods. Nine strange men occupied its halls. They won't let you leave. A dangerous secret haunts this estate. Learning it might either be your saving grace or it could lead to the last breath you ever take.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4

**

Lightning lit up the thin curtains covering the two small windows on either side of the carriage. Thunder rumbled and you felt it deep within your chest. Tugging your silk cloak closer, you closed your eyes and prayed that the driver would get you through the storm. There was no one to comfort you, to reassure you that a little rain and noisy sky wouldn't delay your journey.

Your father had insisted you take your sister or even a friend, but the two day’s journey didn’t  seem consequential enough to need a companion. Besides, what would they have done once you arrived? Your elderly aunt had only asked for you. From what you could decipher from her letter, she needed you to be a companion as she traveled to the southernmost coastal town. Apparently, it was now the ultimate fashion to travel to for the summer. Just the idea of rolling waves made your stomach churn. But what was worse was who else would be there–

The carriage jolted to the right. You spread out your arms, only barely catching yourself from falling to the floor. No sane person would have endured such dangerous weather. This storm had come from nowhere. Skies blue and cloudless as you had ever seen bid you farewell in the late morning. Most of the day's journey had been uneventful. Then the joyful light faded. Thunder shook the walls of the carriage. Rain pounded on the roof. When would you reach the inn? Bile rose up in your throat, burning the sensitive tissue as the carriage continued to rock violently. The horses neighed over the sounds of the storm. 

The carriage shifted hard to the left. And kept falling. You slammed into the door, nearly opening it with the force. You didn't know what was happening. The floor was now the wall and the wall the floor. A downward momentum made it impossible to stand. Screams ripped at your throat.

Then it stopped. 

The rain continued to pour and the thunder roared on but the carriage was still. Your legs wobbled as you slowly stood. With your palms, you pushed open the door. The thin wooden panel clapped against the outside of the carriage. Immediately you were pounded by the storm. Large drops pelted your face, obscuring your vision. It was dark. You could tell that much. And there were trees. In every direction. 

You climbed out of the carriage, calling for the driver. Your feet slipped in the mud, but you managed to keep your balance–for now. The mud was thick and sticky as you trudged to the front of the carriage.

 No. No, no, no. Both of the horses were gone. And so was the driver. Somehow, the carriage had fallen down a hill or ravine. With a storm this terrible, you needed to get to higher ground or risk possibly being carried away–or drowning. Clawing and digging your hands and feet into the soaked dirt, you climbed the hard incline back to the road. 

Once you could make out the road, you called for the driver again. No answer. He was nowhere to be found. You needed to find shelter. The storm gave no promise of letting up. You wouldn't survive the night in this forest, even if you went back into the carriage. The only choice was to find sanctuary. You stared in the direction you believed you came from. Nothing but trees and darkness. You turned to the other choice. All the same–wait. 

There was something... when lightning brightened up the sky. Your heart began banging in your ears. Spires, towers. Not trees. It was some distance away, but it was shelter nonetheless. 

With near tears in your eyes, you picked up your skirts–your fingers numb from the cold–and hurried towards the castle that could be your saving grace. 

*****

The manor was calm tonight. Odd, considering the amount of bodies roaming around these haunted halls. Only the beautiful storm outside and Chanyeol's sorrowful melody from the piano broke the silence. Jongin had draped himself over one of the arm chairs as he inspected the wine mixture within his goblet. The taste was… adequate. The cellar would need replenishing soon.

In the corner, a rather lax game of cards covered the small, round table. Minseok smirked at his winning hand. The faded wooden chips with bits of white painted around the edges were piling up in front of Yixing, who leaned back carelessly, sure of his next win. Little did either of them know that the youngest among them had a little... trick his sleeve. As the quickest, Sehun had perfected sleight of hand long ago. None had caught him yet.

A fire roared, coaling the usually gray and brown room in flickering orange. With how close he stood near the fireplace, Kyungsoo's silhouette was visible through his loose shirt. He leaned his palms on the mantel and let the warmth of the flames engulf him. Warmth was all they could feel after all these years. It could be an addiction so strong it was tempting to throw himself into the fire. 

Junmyeon joined him at the fireplace, leaning his shoulders against the brick. The bite of the edge hardly registered in his mind. Pain of that measure... it was only a ghost that had nearly crossed over. 

“Such strong thoughts for a night like this.”

Kyungsoo didn’t look from the fire, but raised a questioning eyebrow in response. 

Junmyeon shrugged a single shoulder. “I can’t read minds, but it's obvious you're turning something over more times than a praying rock.”

“It's the same thoughts,” Kyungsoo murmured in his strange, monotone voice. “Always the same thoughts.”

“One day you will have to let it go,” Junmyeon sighed. “This is our existence now. And forever will be.”

“Acceptance of the present doesn’t erase the past.”

“But it does make the present more enjoyable.” The red liquid sloshed against the rim of the goblet as Jongin draped an arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulders. He wore a mischievous smile. A clear indicator of his true intention. 

Junmyeon shook his head. “We’re not going out tonight. There’s nothing out and about in this storm.” Hunting in these conditions would wield no trophies. Tomorrow would be a better night. 

“Jun’s no fun tonight,” Jongdae teased as he and Baekhyun emerged from the hallway. 

“If you want to go out in this mess,” Junmyeon waved towards the front door. “Be my guest. Just don’t you dare get mud on the rug–”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Help! Please! Help!”

Nine pairs of eyes snapped to the echoing sound. None moved. 

Bang! Bang! 

BANG!

One of the double doors burst open and a figure fell to the floor, landing on its knees and palms. It looked up. A flash of lightning illuminated the face.

The face of a beautiful young girl. 

*****

Your knees vibrated when they hit the wooden floor. Water fell from your loose hair that clung to your cheeks. The chances of  the door opening when you pushed on the handle had been low–yet the barrier that kept you victim to the storm fell open and you crashed downward with it. 

Greeting you in this strange hall were several men, their jaws hanging open in a mirror of your own surprise. More men appeared from a side parlor, curious as to who dared intrude on their evening. One, two, three–you counted nine total. Nine men. This was not ideal–a bit terrifying, really–but you didn't have a choice. The storm raged outside.

"P-please," you stammered past chattering teeth "The st-storm overturn-overturned the carriage.” 

The men stayed silent as they exchanged unreadable glances. One raised a questionable brow. 

"Jongdae, go run a bath," ordered the man closest to you. One of the shorter residents nodded and disappeared into the darkness that led into the rest of the manor. 

That's what this place was. A grand old manor, not a castle. Isolated. When you'd first run through the rusted iron gate, you'd feared it abandoned. A long dormant instinct whispered that you might have been better off if it had been. 

The first man approached, each motion slow, deliberate, and hauntingly graceful. He crouched down in front of you and captured your frightened stare. The fear in you began to melt away. He was… beautiful. Obsidian fell over his forehead in gentle waves. His tunic was of a fashion your grandfather would have worn. There was something strange about this man–all of these men. Something... different. 

"Let's get you warmed up." He held his hand out and you were up on your feet before you even realized your fingers were resting on his. "Don't worry," he murmured. "You're safe here. My name is Junmyeon." 

You nodded, somehow believing him, but unsure if you should. Through your violent chattering, you managed to stammer out your name in response. 

Bang! 

You jumped at the sudden noise. One of the other men had somehow appeared behind you to shut the door you'd fallen through. 

"Thank you, Yixing," the man beside you said. The one named Yixing nodded and then shifted his eyes to you. “Come.” A hand pressed into the space between your shoulder blades and guided you down the hall, leaving a trail of mud in your wake.

The man led you down several halls until you reached an unoccupied bedroom. Red blankets draped the oversized bed. Matching curtains hung limply from the canopy. All of the wood was a dark sort, rich in color but not quite welcoming like other, brighter woods. 

Jongdae emerged from another door on the other side of the bedroom. Steam rolled out after him as if it were following him for its next set of orders. “Anything else?” he asked drily. 

“No, thank you.”

Jongdae strolled the from the room without a glance either of you and closed the door behind him. Your breath hitched in your throat. The two of you were… alone. It wasn’t appropriate. It was…

You looked to the man still with you, fear causing your heart to pound painful against your chest. You tugged your cloak closer to you, but it was soaked from the rain. Shivers violently raced down your arms and spine. The man didn’t seem to notice as he walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a long white cloth. 

“These should suffice for tonight.” He held up the cloth for you to see. A nightgown. An old one by the cut of it, though thankfully it hadn’t been devoured by moths or mice. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.”

You nodded. “Thank you.” 

He visibly suppressed a laugh at your small voice and waved you into the adjoining bathroom. Taking the nightgown, you tried your best to avoid his gaze. You scurried inside and shut the door. 

*****

Junmyeon smirked at your mousy state. It was understandable why you were so frightened. The women of this period were warned of being alone with a man. And now you were alone with nine. 

Nine very dangerous men. 

The proper action for him to take was to leave your room now that you were safe inside the bathroom, but his feet didn’t move. Somehow, the storm had stranded you in their forest. What had happened to the driver, he wondered. Surely a gentlewoman such as yourself was not controlling the carriage. And yet, you were all alone. Circumstances were… ideal.

A small hiss echoed in the bathroom. It stretched out, along with the sound of sloshing water. Junmyeon frowned. 

Hm.

He stood there for a few minutes more, listening to you sigh as your skin grew used to the scalding water. The sound of soap scraping against skin reached his ears, followed by more sloshing water. Soon, you would be getting out of the tub. Time to leave. 

He emerged from the bedroom, careful to close the door as quietly as possible. Everyone had gathered out in the hallway since they were too curious about their visitor to go about their night. Junmyeon found Jongdae blending in with the cluster. He glared at him as he hissed, "The water was too hot." 

Jongdae merely shrugged. Why would he care about water possibly being too hot? It would never hurt him. 

On the opposite end of the group, Yixing cleared his throat. "What are we going to do with her?"

Junmyeon glanced at the door behind him. There was only one best option, for all their sakes. "Tomorrow morning, we will send her on her way." 

The eruption was instant. 

“Enough!”

In an instant, the hissing ceased. 

Baekhyun huffed and folded his arms against his chest, collapsing against the wall. Jongin scoffed. "Such a waste." 

“A waste that will keep this household from tearing itself apart,” Junmyeoun countered. It was an outcome none of them wanted. No one wanted to cause a fight, but resisting was difficult. The temptation was great. The quicker you left, the better off they would all be. 

"Do you really think it’ll end so well?" Minseok’s mocking comment hung in the air. Silent agreements rippled through the air. 

Junmyeon looked to Kyungsoo, whose answer was to look away. "No one touches her," he ordered. They all would try, he knew. But their strength would only get them so far. He stared down a few of them especially, so they knew he meant it.

Sehun pushed off the wall with a roll of his eyes. "Just get her out of here so I can get some peace." 

Junmyeon started to call after him but was interrupted by a soft thud from the room behind him. Confused, he opened the door to find you lying on the floor.

#exo #exo gothic au #exo vampire au #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo ot9 #exo x reader #exo x you #exo x fem!reader #suho #kim junmyeon #xiumin #zhang yixing #lay #kim jongdae #chen #byun baekhyun #park chanyeol #d.o. #doh kyungsoo #kim jongin #kai #sehun #oh sehun #A Manor of Shadow and Blood

[hyunsvngs]

READ PART 1 FIRST!

continue straight ahead

It had been so dark for so long. But over there, if you strayed from the path just a little, there was a break in the canopy of trees above. Rays of gold filtered through the leaves, and something deep within your chest told you not to leave the path, whatsoever. But it was oh-so-enticing, the thought of stepping into that light and perhaps even feeling just a little bit of warmth spill onto your skin…

Your legs were moving before you could stop them. With each step, your surroundings transform. The black and grey shadows gave way to hues of pink and purple. How could this be possible, so deep in the forest? Your will to question this wasn't quite strong enough. You felt so light, so floaty, so warm.

There was a ring of mushrooms, outlining the clearing, red and white. It may have been a trick of the light, but you could've sworn they sparkled. You stepped over them, into the light.

"Hello, darling."

A man? No. No man was this beautiful. A creature, an angel. A fairy?

He was lounging on a large, flat rock, glowing beneath the sunlight. His feet were bare, toes curling. His legs were slender and ever so long, poking out from beneath a brown, suede-looking skirt. His blouse was white and worn, unbuttoned halfway down his smooth, hairless chest. He was toying with a violet, the petals so bright they hurt your eyes. The further up his body your eyes travelled, the more intoxicated you felt. His features were sharp, all angles and lines, yet there was a softness to him. His cheeks were as rosy as his lips, his eyelashes longer than you'd ever seen before. His ears were pointed where they poked out of his long, blonde hair, cascading down past his shoulders and intertwined with flowers. 

"Who are you?"

He simply smiled. "How did you get here?"

You tried to think backwards, but your memory was getting hazy. "I… I don't know. I just woke up here. In the forest."

The fairy chuckled lazily. "That might be my doing, love." 

Your eyebrows furrowed. It was like you had to fight twice as hard just to think. "What, you brought me here?" 

He shrugged. "Maybe. What does it matter? Come over here." 

At his words, you felt a tug deep in your abdomen, as though he'd hooked an invisible scythe to you and was pulling. 

"What if I don't want to?" you asked, though your own words startled you. Where did they come from? Of course you wanted to get closer to him.

He laughed, bigger this time, his smile meeting his eyes. "Oh, don't be silly. Come."

You didn't register yourself moving, but suddenly you were in front of him. You loomed above him, as he lay on the rock, though you still felt utterly powerless.

"What can I call you?" you asked, then felt silly for asking. 

"Hyunjin," he said. It sounded like his first time speaking the name. "You can call me Hyunjin."

"Have you hypnotised me, Hyunjin?"

He raised his hand, his index finger landing on your lips. "Shhh. Look up at the sky, my darling."

You ignored the electric tingle in your lips, and followed his direction, reluctantly tearing your gaze from him and tilting your head up. Through the trees, with their rose and peach-coloured leaves, you saw. 

"Purple. It's - the sky is purple." 

"That's right, sweetheart, well done." You could hear the smile in his voice as he praised you, and you didn't dare look at him in fear you'd fall deeper. "And the clouds?"

"So pink," you murmured.

"Do you want to feel the way those clouds feel?" He had dropped the violet he'd been twirling between his fingers, his hands laying to rest on your waist instead. 

There was nothing you could do but nod.

"Then come here, my sweetheart. Let me help you get there." 

He spun you around, and you were sitting between his legs on the rock. It didn't feel hard beneath you, somehow. It was like sitting on a cloud. Hyunjin's hands moved from your waist, his fingertips sliding under your shirt and dancing across your tummy.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath tickling your ear. 

It was difficult for you to check in with how you felt; your mind and body felt so disconnected. Not in a bad way, not at all. You just felt… far away. "Light. I feel light."

"I can make you feel better than you've ever felt before. Would you like me to do that?"

You didn't even need to think about the answer. You needed it. "Yes please, Hyunjin."

All of a sudden, your shirt was coming off and your bare back was pressed up against Hyunjin's chest, soft but firm. The air was warm on your skin, and you didn't know if the flowery, powdery scent was coming from Hyunjin or the flora around you, but you were enamoured with it. 

His hands made you feel tiny. You looked down and watched as they cupped your breasts, squeezing them. He found your nipples and pinched them, rolling them between his fingertips. It sent shockwaves throughout your entire body, and you could barely breathe. You choked at the feeling, feeling as though your chest were collapsing - it was more than you could ever possibly handle. The tingling sensation was so warm, stronger than a thousand orgasms and all he was doing was tweaking your nipples.

"Breathe, darling," he urged you. "In and out." 

You steadied your breathing, grounding yourself, focusing in on the pleasure bursting from within you. "What are you?" you panted.

"I'm yours. That's all you need to worry about."

Hyunjin dipped his head, his nose bumping against the skin below your ear. It traced a line downwards, right into the sweet spot where your neck ended and your shoulder began. He kissed you, making you moan out loud with just his plump, pink lips. 

His fingertips made their way down your torso, tickling your tummy and passing over your hip bones. When did you become naked? you wondered. In all honesty, you didn't really care. Hyunjin's fingers were dancing across your pubic bone, then reaching between your thighs, spreading them. You hooked them over his own legs, fully spread for him. 

"Oh, look at you," he whispered, chin on your shoulder. He spread your pussy lips, exploring what you had to offer. 

"Am I pretty?" you asked, heart racing.

"Prettier than every flower I've ever seen," he agreed.

He plunged two of his slender fingers inside your pussy, and you writhed under his touch, throwing your head back against him. It was more intense than anything you'd ever felt before. You couldn't handle it, yet at the same time you wanted to stay here, feeling this way, for the rest of your life.

"How are you doing this?" you whined, your body thrashing with each pump of his fingers. He was playing with your g-spot so accurately that the pleasure almost hurt. It was beyond overwhelming. Nobody had ever made you feel like this before.

Hyunjin only laughed in response, kissing your neck again. "Are you enjoying it?"

"Y- Oh, fuck, yeah," you stammered. The pleasure was so immense that it felt like one ongoing orgasm. When did you start cumming? you wondered. And when would you stop?

"Do you want more?" There was a mischievous lilt to Hyunjin's voice. 

"Are you gonna fuck me?" you asked, equal parts terrified and excited. You could barely handle two fingers, how would you possibly tolerate his dick?

He picked you up effortlessly, laying you back on the flat bed of the stone. You watched as he unbuttoned his blouse (the last few buttons that were hanging on, at least) and unlaced his skirt. His skin almost sparkled in the sun, bright and dazzling. His pecs, his toned abdomen, his waist, his hips, his… his dick.

"What is that?" you asked, voice hoarse. You stared at it, wide-eyed. It was long, must have been twelve inches at the very least. The tip was pale pink, a broad mushroom bulging at the top of the shaft, with the prettiest little slit at the top. The shaft just went on and on, delicate lavender veins twirling around it, all the way down until it met his balls, hanging softly beneath. "It's beautiful."

"I know," Hyunjin said with a smile.

"I… I can't take that, Hyunjin. That's too big, I'm… I don't know who you've fucked before, but I'm just a human. It's too much for me." 

Hyunjin ignored your slightly panicked babbling, hovering over you where you lay. His long blonde hair fell into your face, tickling you. "Look into my eyes." 

You did so. They were black, at first glance. Until pale lilac streaked through the pools, softening them. Rosy pink tones joined the mix, marbling the colours. You felt immediately calmer, pure relaxation flooding your system.

"Three…" You felt Hyunjin spread your legs. You didn't look away from his eyes.

"Two…" You felt him bumping at the entrance to your pussy. He lay his forehead against yours, and all you could see were the swirling colours. Hyunjin disappeared, the forest disappeared. 

"One." 

The feeling was back - you were cumming again. His dick was inside you - how far inside, you didn't know. It could've been a single inch, for all you knew, or it could've been the whole thing. He could be gutting you with it this very second, tearing apart your insides, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. His dick was even more magical than his fingers. 

"Does that feel okay?" he asked. At his words, he came back into frame - you could see again. His expression was so calm, not a single crease or line across his porcelain-perfect face. 

"Good - feels good," you said with a nod. "I - am I cumming? Have I been cumming this whole time?"

"Of course, darling."

"Are you inside me? All the way?" 

Hyunjin gave you another gentle smile. "Why don't you look?" He sat up, and his slender frame was no longer obscuring your view.

You had no idea what to say. He was inside you - to the fucking hilt. It didn't make sense, he shouldn't fit inside you so easily. There shouldn't be such a lack of resistance. Logic said that he should surely be perforating your cervix at this length. 

Logic? Logic was out of the window. You were laying on a stone, in a forest clearing, making love to the most beautiful being you'd ever seen. You were experiencing a continuous orgasm so strong that you could barely feel your body, yet at the same time you could feel it immensely. 

Hyunjin pulled his dick out of you, slowly, until just his mushroom tip was left inside. The shaft was dripping, coated in your cream. He thrusted back into you gently, further and further. You felt him deep inside you. He just kept sliding further, impossibly deeper. Your tummy bulged, and you could see the glow of his cockhead inside.

"I don't understand," you mewled, spit dribbling from the corner of your lips.

Hyunjin caressed your cheek. "Stop trying to understand. Just feel." 

You reached out to touch him, your hands exploring his skin. You touched his shoulders, so strong yet so soft, the muscles bulging beneath your hands. He felt like a cloud. You touched his face, his perfect pretty face, his expression remaining unchanged as you sobbed beneath him. How could he be so calm?

"Does-" you hiccuped. "Does it feel good for you? Hyunjin?"

"Yes, sweetheart." His voice was still, even as he was fucking you. "I don't do things that don't feel good."

You felt as though you were on top of the fucking world. You felt unstoppable, untouchable. You were making this man - this creature, this fairy - feel good. Your mind floated away from you. He hadn't lied; you felt just like the bright pink clouds in the sky.

"Do you love me, Hyunjin?" you asked, silly grin on your face. 

Hyunjin looked at you blankly. "In a way." 

He wiped your cheek with a single finger, following the tracks your tears had painted. "Your tears are so pretty." He lifted the finger to his lips, licking it. He threw his head back, closing his eyes tight, the first real display of pleasure you'd seen from him.

"Are - Are you gonna c-cum?" you asked, choking out each word. 

"Yes, my darling," he said, and you heard just a slight strain to his voice. "I'm going to cum." 

You gripped his biceps, steadying yourself. He looked deep into your eyes. Those gorgeous, ever-changing orbs disappeared from your view, the pinks and purples and blacks evaporating. His eyes were solid white, and held more emotion than you'd seen from the man so far. His eyebrows furrowed deeply. He was cumming.

You quickly realised that you hadn't been cumming this whole time - this was the peak. You felt his ethereal cock cum inside you, felt his seed spurt out of his slit and into your pussy. There was an impossible amount, flooding your body. It tingled, made your pussy throb in ways it never had before. Your entire body was on fire. 

"Thank you, love." He pulled out of you, and you whined at how empty you felt. You swore you'd feel empty until the day you died, if you never felt his cock again. 

His cum was spilling out of your pussy. You frowned, wanting to keep it all inside you, a memento of your time together; but your discontent couldn't last long. It was entrancing. His cum wasn't white but silver, and glowing. It was more like smoke than a man's seed, curling out of you and flying away.

"Don't worry, darling," he spoke with a smile. "There's some inside you, still. Deep inside." Could he read your mind? Had he been reading it this whole time?

"What happens now?" you asked, a sudden panic gripping your chest. "Will I see you again?"

Hyunjin grinned at you. His teeth looked sharp, pointed. You didn't blink, not even when your eyes burned. You couldn't look away for even a second, you had to absorb the sight of him. His glowing skin, his angular jaw, his now-white eyes. His pale blonde hair, cascading in waves down his back. 

He leaned in, and pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Goodbye, love."

And with that, as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone.

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[phantomskeep]

Putting the "Fun" Back In "Funeral" Chapter 4

AO3 | Chapter Three --- Chapter Five

Chapter Four: Gotham's One-Stop Shop For Villainy The first thing Danny noticed about this dimension was it smelled. A polluted haze hung heavy over the sky, casting the urban jungle in a dark mist and assaulting the halfa’s nose with the sharp tang of gasoline. Loud big-city sounds filled his ears as he caught himself in the midst of his free-fall, leaving the man distorted. It was so much different compared to his Keep in the Zone. To be pulled from a place of near-constant quiet into a realm full of honking horns, shouts and sirens was enough to have Danny reel his aura back in. The ambient ectoplasm around him felt sticky, and wrong, like the very air around Danny had been contaminated by something dark and sinister. He pulled his atmospheric spirit back, tugging where he could feel all the tiny little souls around him closer to himself. Bit by bit, his range of feelings depleted until he almost couldn’t feel the filth that surrounded him. Small pants left his lungs by the time Danny could only feel a tiny circle around himself that pulsed with his aura as he tried to keep a lid on his powers that desperately wanted to run free.

Attempting to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of not sensing the people around him, as well as the general unclean feeling of touching such disgusting ectoplasm, Danny spun in a small circle to try and get his bearings. The portal created by the Skeleton Key left him hovering over an old clocktower bathed in the haze of the city. Looking around proved to be near-futile, because even with his superior sight, Danny could barely see the street from where he floated.

The young man shifted the bags thrown over his shoulder, nervously looking around while trying to catch his breath. Clockwork had said his friend would be waiting for him, so where…?

“Hello, my King.”

A feminine voice caused Danny to startle, turning quickly to face the ghost that snuck up on him. The being before him reminded Danny of Shadow, almost. Their form was pitch black against the backdrop of the Victorian clocktower, constantly moving and shifting like a wispy fire. Piercing red eyes bore into him, causing him to nervously rub the back of his neck.

“Hi,” Danny spoke slowly. “Are you the one Clockwork told me about? The Spirit of Gotham?”

The ghost chuckled softly, moving their wispy form closer to Danny. A belated wisp of cold air worked its way out of his throat, letting him know another of the Realms was close. “I am, young King. You may call me Lady Gotham, the protector of this city.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Gotham. I’m Danny Phantom.” He said, remembering the many hours he spent with Pandora and Dorathea drilling the proper mannerisms into his thick skull. Danny bowed at the waist, ignoring how the two bags he carried knocked against his knees. “Thank you for allowing me into your domain and protections. I will treat your lair as my own– with the utmost kindness, respect, and haunting that should be given to any member of the Realms.”

“I accept your gratitudes and give my own, King Phantom.” Lady Gotham’s voice was steady when she spoke the traditional greetings of the Zone, unlike Danny’s own unsteady cadence. Danny rose from his bow to see the other’s form in her own imitation of a respectful stance. After a beat, she rose from it to meet his eyes again.

The young king grinned at the shifting shadow in front of him, allowing excitement-nice to meet you to leave the tight leash he had on his aura to tentatively brush against Lady Gotham. A little trill of happiness left his core at the tender hello-nice to meet you-calm that caressed the small bubble Danny had created.

“Come, Little One,” Gotham spoke gently. “Clockwork has left you in my care until your tasks are complete. The ones who are mine have prepared an area for you while you are under my protection. We will head there and I will teach you the cultures of this dimension. Is this acceptable, King Phantom?”

“More than, Lady Gotham.” Danny continued to smile at his new guardian. “But, please, call me Danny. Or Phantom. Just- just none of that king stuff, please.”

A quiet chuckle emitted from the shadow before him. “As you wish, Danny. If we are being informal, feel free to call me Gotham.” She paused, swiveling the area where her eyes rested around to face to her left. The movements reminded Danny of the character No-Face from Spirited Away, a heavy swing of herself in a dramatic full-body maneuver. “We must head north to reach the lair I have created for you, Little One.”

“Lead the way, Lady G!”

The flight over was a quick one, with Danny’s ghostly guide fading from the visible spectrum before taking off. Danny followed suit, taking care to keep Gotham in his tiny bubble. As they traveled, he strained himself to see through the muggy haze that encompassed Gotham’s city. They passed large, towering skyscrapers with flashy signs, massive highways filled to the brim with cars, and Danny could barely make out dark water when they passed over a bridge. There were no immediate outstanding differences between his home dimension and this one. So far everything seemed pretty normal, besides the slimy feeling tingling on the edges of his senses.

From the past couple experiences Danny had with time travel and multiverse hopping, the man was expecting to see something like flying cars or gravity-defying structures. But everything seemed almost normal. Maybe this world wasn’t one of those crazy superhuman filled ones like the one Kitty and Johnny told him stories of. Apparently, their home dimension was pretty wild.

Danny almost lost his ghostly companion when she led him across a wide-open area filled with plants, though he caught up with her when she began to head slightly to the left. They passed more towers, more open areas with the faint sounds of cresting waves against land, until Gotham finally began to slow down.

“This part of my city is called Cherry Hills,” she said as the two ghosts hovered over the city’s buildings. “Many of the areas to the northeastern side of this section are used as housing, the western as warehouses, and the southeastern as workspaces or labs.” The older being began to gently fly further north, slowly leading them closer to the buildings.

As the structures pulled into view, Danny took in the sights before him. A large highway cut through the housing district, and he could easily make out the far-off sight of warehouses leading to docks where a handful of large ships were tied up. A freight train’s blaring horn was accompanied by the flashes of light as it cut through the city’s haze. The raised railings of a metro train track ran alongside the highway. As they continued north, the housing buildings started to look more worn-down, less like their shiny brethren on the east side of the carpath.

“Is this the area I’m going to be living in?” Danny questioned after a while. He wasn’t too concerned about the state of the building he would be occupying - he (kind of) survived the Fenton household for eighteen years, after all -, but the shock of being in a large city was starting to grate on his nerves.

“Yes,” Lady Gotham said as she began to hover over one of the taller residential complexes. “This is the one.”

With that, Danny could only helplessly follow where he could feel her plummeting through the building’s roof. When he crossed the barrier, he let his invisibility go to match Gotham. Her shadowed form lazed within the large studio’s space, letting herself barely brush against the floor.

“Welcome to your new home, Little One.” Gotham swirled closer to him, the edges of her emotions pressing against him in a soothing tone of welcome-this is yours-take it. “I hope it is to your liking.”

An awed breath left Danny as he slowly turned to truly take in the studio apartment he was presented with. The ceilings were high, with one side tilted at an angle to run alongside the roof. Two large windows let the hazy day’s light peak through the panes, washing the area with a gentle glow. A nice-looking kitchen occupied the space’s far corner, and Danny was only a little disappointed to note it would probably not see much use. An open area was broken up with a sturdy kitchen table sitting innocently next to another large window. The corner along the same wall as the kitchen area ran into a cozy-looking living room area, an elevator space acting as a barrier to the adjacent corner.

Danny was a bit perplexed to note that scattered lab equipment filled that space. Did Clockwork tell Gotham that he was a mad scientist or something? But Danny moved on to take in the staircase leading up to an open L-shaped platform. Floating up, he found a cozy-looking king bed greeted him, along with a computer set-up that would have made Tucker drool. He excitedly noted a window with access to a balcony with stairs leading onto the top of the roof was attached to the same wall perpendicular to the one his bed was against.

The young king zoomed next to Gotham, a large smile on his face. “This is awesome! How the heck did you get this all set up?”

An easy chuckle left the other ghost’s form, gentle emotions swaying between the two as they continued to get used to the other. “The people of my city don’t often question when mysterious jobs line up for them. It is part of their culture to not ask too many questions, after all.”

“That’s…” Danny paused, trying in vain to find the morally correct words without offending his host. “Interesting?”

A rumbling purr filled the air, Gotham letting a gentle pulse of amusement ripple against her king. “Interesting is certainly a word for it. Do not fret, Little One, no harm comes to them.”

The young man awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed that his worries were so easily spotted by the older ghost. He wasn’t quite used to having anyone other than the Ancients or his friends read him with such ease - having another do so, even if she was a ghost and Clockwork’s friend, was unusual for Danny. It made him wonder what type of relationship she had with Clockwork, as he had never before seen or even heard of Gotham before now. Before he could question her, though, she swiftly spoke.

“Before we get too distracted, I must inform you of this dimension.” She shifted her way behind where Danny was hovering, seeming to herd him towards his new couch. “Sit, sit. There is no need to be uncomfortable for such a conversation.”

“Wait,” Danny protested. “Let me put my stuff down real quick.” Without waiting for a response, he zipped up to his new bed. Dropping his duffle and Clockwork’s satchel onto the plain blue bed sheet before rummaging around for the journal gifted to him. When he finally found it, the young man flew back to the simple pale couch where Gotham waited.

It was an odd sight to see. A giant, angry looking cloud of smog hovering like an exasperated parent in a picture-perfect looking home.

“Okay,” Danny started as he landed on the surprisingly comfortable couch. He leaned back, relaxing against soft cushions, as he let his transformation wash over himself. “So what do I need to know?”

Surprise rippled across the air at the sight of Danny’s flashy shift, but Gotham was composed when she spoke. “From what Clockwork has told me, you come from a dimension where you are one of three beings who are more than human?”

Giving a small nod, Danny felt like his chest would explode from the hope-excitement-trepidation at what Gotham was implying. “Are you saying there’s, like, people with powers here?!”

“Indeed,” Gotham agreed, her voice lifting at the other’s obvious excitement. “There are metahumans, those with the meta-gene, who are humans with various powers. Others include humans who have been experimented on, had accidents, know the magical arts, or even been subjected to ancient powers. Aliens have begun to call this Earth home, as well. This includes those from Mars, Krypton, Thanegar, Tamaran…” She trailed off, staring at Danny who was physically vibrating. “My king, are you okay?”

“There’s aliens?” He whispered. “You guys have aliens?!”

“Yes, many of them-”

“Holy fucking shit,” Danny jumped up, coming to eye level with a startled Gotham. “Can I meet them?! Can I visit their planets? How many are there, what do they look like, do they have powers?!” The young man was trying to grab onto something in order to steady himself, but his hands kept passing through Gotham’s smokey form. “Lady G, please tell me I can meet them. Please, I will literally die again if I can’t meet actual people who live in space.”

A happy laugh echoed across the apartment’s space, the City Spirit being the source of it. “You are certainly excited about this, Little One.”

“Of course!” He exclaimed, waving his noodle arms around. “Space is so cool, G. It’s the greatest thing ever, I love it! I’ve always wanted to explore it, ever since I was a kid.”

“Well, you will be glad to hear that meeting the aliens who call Earth home is something you will be able to do.”

“Do any of them live here? In your city?”

“No,” She said, moving her eyes to look out the large windows gracing the two with a hazy glow. “The Dark Knight, a man who helps protect my lair, does not allow ones with powers to operate within me.”

A curious expression overtook Danny. His excited movements slowed to a halt, and he regarded Gotham with a critical, glowing eye. “Do you want me to take care of him, Lady Gotham?”

Calm-do not worry-amusement gently brushed against Danny, causing him to relax. “As much as I appreciate your protection, Little One,” Gotham said as she faced her king. “The Batman has this rule for good reasons, ones that I agree with.”

Danny’s metaphorical hackles lowered at Gotham’s comment. The piercing neon green of his eyes bled back into their usual icy blue, though the curious look did not leave. “Why’s that? And who names their kid Batman?”

Part of the City Spirit’s dark cloud tried to nudge him back towards his couch. “The Batman,” she began, “is a hero who operates to protect my city. He was born here and donned his cape in order to help those in need from the many criminals who call my territory home.”

Danny gave an involuntary awed noise. “So you guys have heroes here, too?” A dark tendril of smog wrapped around the back of the couch, resting gently against Danny’s neck.

The idea of having other heroes around was something that greatly appealed to Danny. Being the lone super-powered protector of Amity Park for so long took its toll on the young man, even with his human companions. It just wasn’t the same, being the only one with advanced abilities. He had to take the bigger hits, he had to be the one to save his friends if they got into too great of a bind, he had to be the one to try and take on the burden of Amity Park alone when they all went off to find their place in the world. With great power comes great responsibility, after all. And being the Ghost King? Well, Danny had more than enough “great power” to spare.

The thought was just as sobering as it was exciting. Other heroes, super or not, meant that there was something to have caused those heroes to come into play. Some great villain, or a world-ending disaster, or even large crime rates. Lady Gotham only said criminals, though, so maybe there were no supervillains Danny needed to worry about.

“Yes. In fact, there is a large society of both heroes and villains.”

Well, it was a nice thought while it lasted.

“But many of the aliens you were so excited to hear about are among those heroes.” Gotham continued, not noticing Danny’s sudden mid-afterlife crisis. “There is the Batman, who is one of the founders of the Justice League. Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, Green Arrow, and many others are all part of this superhero society - the Justice League.”

“Okay,” Danny was desperately trying to keep up with this sudden information. “So, Batman is a super-powered dude who helped to start an entire squad of superheroes?”

“He has no powers. The Dark Knight is just a man, same with Green Arrow and many others. They simply are able to keep up with the aliens, gods, and metas.”

Danny paused, taking in a breath. He touched his fingers together, pressing his palms flat. Another breath was taken, this one deeper than the last. With every ounce of teenage angst he still had within him, Danny lifted his hands up together to rest against his forehead before bringing them down in an arch that would have made Sam proud. “What the fuck.”

A laugh rolled from Gotham’s form, his guardian sneakily tightening her protective hold on him. “What the fuck indeed, Little One.”

“Okay, okay-” Danny’s voice cracked with indignation, “So regular everyday humans fight supervillains and are able to keep up with gods? And super-powered aliens?”

“Yes.”

“And one of those humans - who named himself after a bat - is the sole protector of your lair? Besides yourself? And he doesn’t let any of his superhero friends help him?”

“I never said he worked alone. Though, for a long time he did not have any help.”

“Lady G,” Danny said again with exasperation. “I repeat: what the fuck.”

Her only response was to laugh at his expense as he continued to moan about how he couldn’t seem to escape crazy people, no matter what dimension he runs to. The space shared by two multi-dimensional beings filled with an easy warmth.

“So,” Danny started after a couple minutes of his grumbling. “Superpowered people aren’t allowed in your city because one of your protectors is just a man in a… What, fursuit? A crime-fighting fursuit?” He paused, considering, before rapidly moving on. “But there are super-powered people in this dimension who are also heroes.”

“Yes, that is all true.”

The young man took a second, silently thinking, before speaking again. “Okay, okay,” He started. “And the chances that I’m going to have to just… steal all of these ghostly artifacts is pretty high, right?”

“Again, you are correct.”

“So,” Danny said, stretching out the word. “Chances are they’re going to think I’m some sort of villain.”

Gotham made a noise akin to two cars scraping against each other as she hesitated to answer. “There is a chance of that, yes.”

“Great,” he bemoaned, bonelessly flopping around his couch. “Guess it’s time to pull out the ol’ acting shoes. Welcome to Danny’s One-Stop Shop for Villainy.”

Foreign emotions rubbed against the sulking man’s aura, the City Spirit’s feelings of do not fret-all is well-I will protect you soothing Danny’s temperament. “There is no need for all of that, Little King.” When their eyes met, Gotham’s form had smoothed into a rolling fog compared to her usual flaking fire. “If all else fails, you can learn to have some fun with it. Many of the heroes and villains of this world have… gimmicks, if you would, for their respective personas.”

A critical eye was shot to the other ghost. “What do you mean by that? My ghost form’s already pretty gimmicky.”

“But,” she said. “You can always take it to the next level. I would suggest you do some research on the various powers who live within my city as well as this world. You may find some inspiration.” She paused before speaking with a teasing tone. “I also believe that Clockwork told you to blend in? Maybe a name like Inviso-bill would fit right in with the likes of Condiment King and Kiteman.”

“Absolutely not!” He screeched, waving his hands wildly as he bared his teeth. “How do you even know about that?!”

A purr echoed from Gotham’s chest, so fierce Danny could feel it vibrating his own core. “I have my ways, Little One.”

“Fucking cryptic geezers,” Danny sullenly mumbled as he pouted. “I don’t even know where I could get an outfit for stealing stuff, anyways.”

“Were you not planning on doing it in your more ghostly form?”

He stopped, eyeballing Gotham’s face area with a critical eye. The other was facing him, though more of her wispy form had started to curl around his shoulders like a lazy cat soaking up the warmth of the sun. “I thought using powers in your city was a no-no?”

“That does not mean you cannot use your other form,” Gotham’s voice took on a lecturing tone. “You just will not be able to use your powers in an obvious way. It would help to protect your identity, and I know that you know the risks of not being in one of your forms for too long. Clockwork, at the very least, informed me to help you keep track of your health.”

Danny grumbled a bit, remembering the last lecture he endured from Frostbite about his general health. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Can’t I just use my ghost form as is, then?”

“I would not recommend it.”

“Why’s that?” Danny inquired.

Gotham huffed, “Because, quite frankly, there are magic users who know about your coronation. Any being with ties to death - through magic or dying or any other way - heard the Song of Ancients as you took the crown. It will not take long for your influence over the Realms to reach here, and when that occurs they will know.”

“And then the jig is up?”

“Yes, then the ‘jig is up’.”

A loud groan left him, frustration causing Danny to get up and pace. “So, what? I just go around and snatch everything while invisible? Or in the Kingly gear? ‘Cause I don’t think my HAZMAT is the kind of gimmick you’re thinking of. Besides, wouldn’t either form just give everything away from the get-go?”

When Gotham didn’t respond, the young man turned to face her. The City Spirit was staring at him, not saying anything.

“What?” He finally asked when he couldn’t stand it.

“You can change the outfit of your form.” She stated. “Did you not know this?”

Danny nodded his head, “I mean, yeah, I swapped from the robes to my HAZMAT earlier - but I don’t even know how to start on an entirely new outfit!”

The older ghost let out a quiet laugh, “Do not fret, Little One. I can teach you how to alter your form.”

“Can you change yours?” The young man asked, curious. He knew Amorpho could shapeshift and that often a ghost could generally alter their appearance, but he didn’t think he would be able to alter his own.

“I used to be able to,” grief rolled off Gotham in waves, the intensity of it staggering. A dark cloud seemed to roll over the city, the weak light bleeding through the loft’s windows almost completely disappearing. “It was a long, long time ago that I was last able to.”

Danny reached out, letting apologies-you’re okay-I’m okay-we’re safe tentatively brush against his companion’s anguish. “Well, maybe we can figure out how to get you to change forms again. I’ll do some nosying around and figure out the best way to blend in so I can snatch some fun stuff.”

A thankful emotion poked through Gotham’s grief as she agreed with the young man before her. “Until then,” she started. “It might be a good idea for you to settle some more. I need to rest before attempting to mentor you through something as draining as altering yourself.”

“Alright,” Danny easily agreed. “Should I stay in here while you do that, or is it a good idea for me to roam around a bit?”

Gotham paused, considering. “You should be fine to wander, though I would suggest spending time familiarizing yourself with my occupants beforehand.”

“Gotcha,” he gave his new friend a small smile. “Thank you, again, for helping me with this. I really do appreciate it, Lady Gotham.”

“But of course,” she said in a tone full of fondness. “Clockwork has spoken highly of you throughout the years. I am pleased to see his judgment was not misguided.”

“Well, I’m glad that you’re pretty chill.” Danny happily moved closer to the City Spirit.

If Gotham had a physical mouth, Danny would bet that she was smiling at him when she spoke. “I will leave you to it, then. If you are in need of anything simply flare your aura. I will feel it, no matter where you are.”

“You got it, Lady G.”

And with that, the Spirit of Gotham faded from the visible spectrum. Danny felt her slip out of his aura’s bubble and he was suddenly alone in a completely new dimension. Which was, apparently, full of superheroes, supervillains, and everything in between. When the young man began walking up the stairs to where his computer was set up, the only thing on his mind was figuring out where Clockwork’s list of artifacts were and which hero he was going to look up first. That Batman dude sure sounded like a good place to start.

╮(╯▽╰)╭

The sheer amount of non-earthly beings that occupied this dimension’s earth was crazy. That was the conclusion that Danny came to hours after Gotham had left him.

It took flipping through old news channels, trolling internet forums, random fan blogs, and even watching a few interviews of various heroes for Danny to get a vague grasp of this new reality. There were some heroes that he couldn’t get a full view of - the Batman being one of them. All he could find were grainy photos of the hero and hints that he wasn’t the only vigilante in the city.

Which would make Danny’s job a bit harder.

During his deep dive into this dimension’s cultures, Danny flipped through the little journal Clockwork had gifted him. His mentor’s steady handwriting listed out the various artifacts he was going to need to find as well as their general location. Many of those artifacts, after using his shiny new high-tech computer to look them up, were located in public places or stored in secret, secure facilities. Yoinking the public ones wouldn’t be too much of an issue for Danny - his abilities would make it rather easy to avoid detection, after all - but he had no idea what a “Fortress of Solitude” was. Or even something as vague as “The Watchtower”. Seriously, some of these places sounded weird.

But others had cities listed out. Star City was obviously a town, he knew where Gotham was (duh), and even places like Themyscira were easy enough to Google. It was with this brilliant deduction that led Danny to believe some of the weirder names weren’t attached to a city at all which was rather worrying.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on who asked) Clockwork wasn’t one to steer Danny in a direction the old ghost knew wouldn’t work out. So with a healthy dose of blind faith, Danny chose to focus on whatever artifacts he could easily access for now. This meant Danny spent a decent amount of time casually scrolling through museum articles, even more blogs, and whatever else he could get his grubby little hands on. Honestly, it made the Ghost King feel like he was back in highschool trying to desperately write an entire research essay the day it was due.

The first item on Danny’s newly named “List of Shit I Need to Steal” was an item called the Hand of Greed. According to the Gotham Museum of Natural History’s website, the Hand of Greed was a statuette found in an Ancient Greek city. There were some general facts about when it was found, who discovered it, and how it came into the Museum’s care. The Wikipedia page elaborated more on the lore behind the dark statuette, though.

According to random people on the internet, the Hand of Greed had been found by Ancient Greek farmers after a lightning storm in a graveyard. There was more than a few forums debating on what caused the storm, where the hand came from, and even some people arguing that everything about the Hand was made-up. The forums then led Danny to a dead end - nothing had ever been formally concluded about the relic’s origins. It frustrated Danny a little bit. He wanted to be at least slightly more prepared for his first ever consensual heist. The half-ghost broke away from his hunched position over his desk, popping his back and yawning. The motions of this move caused his stomach to gurgle angrily, reminding Danny that eating was still something he had to do.

The young man stretched himself out, wiggling around his comfy office chair. “Guess I better get some food or something,” Danny mumbled to himself. His eyes didn’t move from where they were focused on his setup’s main monitor, where a picture of the strong fist carved out of black marble rested.

With a dramatic groan meant for no one but himself, Danny spun his chair around. He easily hefted himself off of the space, casually walking to where his duffle bag still rested. He rummaged around, grabbing his wallet before moseying his way to the elevator.

It wasn’t like Danny didn’t want to steal something, per se. As he smacked the “down” button, he considered the morality of taking something that did, technically, belong to him. It wasn’t like the people who found the statue knew it originated in the Ghost Zone - to them it was just an old statue with a weird story behind it.

The elevator arrived with a happy-sounding “ding!” and Danny stepped into the space as he fiddled with the bracelets resting on his wrist. He would have to make a plan to break into the museum, something the halfa was not looking forward to, especially with how little his research brought up. Reaching out, he poked the lobby button before resting his back against the stainless steel walls.

Maybe he could just go in invisibly? This Batman hero wouldn’t even be able to catch him if he never even appeared on camera, after all. It wasn’t like Danny had an identity in this world, anyways. Any hero would be hard-pressed to catch a ghost in the machine. The elevator stopped, doors opening with the same cheery noise.

But, even though Danny hated to admit it, he kind of wanted to meet the heroes of this dimension.

The young man continued to think about it as he walked out of the building’s lobby, not even taking note of the inside of it or the people loitering. Breathing in city smog, Danny pulled his beat-to-hell phone out of where it was resting in his khaki pants. He focused just enough to figure out where the closest convenience store was, slap a pin on his new home, and make his way in the general direction of where he needed to go.

Danny was honestly pretty surprised to see his phone worked. The shock of finding out that yes, his shitty phone did in fact apparently carry a multi-dimensional data plan, brought his attention to money. Lady Gotham didn’t really explain what forms of currency this dimension used, nor did he even consider looking that up.

Which he could solve right now, by using his phone that did somehow work. But where was the fun in that? He had to spice up his obviously too-boring life somehow. All else failed, he would just act like he was from a different country or something. There’s no way that could backfire on him - no siree, no backfiring here. And technically he wouldn’t be lying, either. It’s a win-win either way.

It was with these thoughts that Danny serenely entered a beat-up looking store with various ads decorating its windows. He had about twenty dollars in his pockets when he hopped dimensions, which would hopefully be enough to grab a sandwich or something.

Danny really, really hoped that the currency of this dimension was the same.

After the halfa snagged a decent looking chicken salad sandwich out of the store’s stacked fridges, he found it was at least similar enough to get him the food and a fountain drink. Danny took his change, thanked the cashier, and went back outside. The man leaned his back against cool glass and took out his phone to see how close the museum was to him. If nothing else, Danny could make his way to the place and do a little reconnaissance.

It seemed like something Jazz would want him to do, after all.

The GPS app on Danny’s phone showed him that the Museum of Natural History was down in Gotham’s University District, closer to where he first came into this dimension than where he was now. A forty minute drive by car, apparently, but the halfa was sure he would be able to fly there in under ten. With a small smirk, Danny stuffed his lunch into his mouth as he hurriedly searched for a decent alleyway to shift forms in.

Finding a decent spot proved to be more difficult than he had expected. The city was teeming with life - people spilling in and out of the streets and bustling across warm concrete as they went about their lives. It was after the fourth time Danny wandered into an empty-looking alley, only to find a shady deal going on, that he felt frustrated beyond belief.

It had never been this hard in Amity to find an unoccupied spot to swap to his ghost form in. The spaces between buildings almost never had other people in them, and even when there were all Danny had to do was make it to the next one over to be alone. Here, though, it was proving to be a larger task. People were everywhere and it was starting to get on the halfa’s nerves.

Danny didn’t miss home already, nope. He hadn’t even been in this dimension for twelve hours - he couldn’t break this early.

Finally, after spending way too much time trying to find a discrete area to die, Danny let his transformation sweep over himself. He faded away from the visible spectrum as soon as familiar rings of light sputtered out. He quickly shot to the sky, gazing down on the city below him with delight.

Yeah, it wasn’t Amity Park. There were people everywhere, it smelled horrible, and Danny could still feel the sticky ectoplasm of the city brushing against his aura.

But it was beautiful in its own way.

Towering skyscrapers outline the heart of the city in the distance, windows reflecting back what bits of sky peaked through the slowly lifting haze. Flashing lights rose from between the cramped buildings, washing Gotham’s people in hues of red and blue. The noise was a pleasant backdrop as Danny flew between the streets, a smile gracing his face.

He could see himself getting used to this.

Minutes passed as the halfa twirled between man-made structures, occasionally dropping down to listen to the various people as they went about their day. It was when Danny flew up to the top of a skyscraper, his whole being bursting with joy as he played in the sky, that he felt an angry pulse brush against his aura.

Startled, Danny hovered over the top of the office space. Warily, the young man sent back a questioning feeling - doing his best to keep his little bubble of safety. He was left waiting, anxiety slowly building the longer no ghost appeared on his senses.

Who had sent that? Danny wasn’t quite sure, but the only other ghost he had met in this dimension was Gotham. It had to have been her, but why was she angry?

His guess was proven correct when a black cloud rose from the edge of the skyscraper, sides flared like an avenging angel's wings. Startled, Danny dropped to the roof, taking a few steps back as his hands rose into a defensive position and his invisibility fell. Belated, a wispy breath left his mouth when the older ghost drew closer.

“My King,” Gotham’s angry voice crashed against Danny’s senses. Long gone were the soothing tones from earlier. In their place were sounds that made the hairs on the back of Danny’s neck raise up, his senses screaming DANGER DANGER! “What did I tell you about using your abilities here?”

“I thought that was just for whenever I was stealing stuff!” Danny protested, trying to recall their conversation earlier. “I was just trying to scope out the museum - the Hand of Greed is something on Clockwork’s list.”

Gotham snarled, her form twisting angrily. “No, you shouldn’t be using any of your abilities. The risk is too great.”

Hesitating, Danny warred with himself. On one hand, he didn’t want to piss off his ghostly host on the first day he stayed with her. That was just bad manners, and he knew Pandora would be disappointed in him if he wasn’t polite. However, not being able to use his powers? Ever, as long as he was inside Gotham’s city? That was just too much to ask for, in his own opinion. Danny could understand not wanting him to use his powers to avoid Gotham’s protector’s wrath, but on a day-to-day basis?

Danny wasn’t too sure if he could do that. His powers were part of him and he thought he was finally going to a place where he wouldn’t have to hide who he was.

At the end of the day, though, Danny wasn’t one to try and piss off his allies. He had made too many enemies over the years to be okay with that.

“I’m sorry, Lady Gotham.” Danny spoke, trying to hide the frustration that had so quickly overtook his fear. “I won’t use my powers in your city - unless I am in my apartment.”

The spirit’s form shifted, considering. “Very well, I accept your apology.” She hesitated, for just a split-second, before continuing. “I think it is time we head back to your haunt, Little One. I still need to teach you how to shift forms and I want you to be prepared for when you meet my protectors in a few days.”

“A few days?” Danny asked, confused. That wasn’t his plan.

“Yes,” Gotham said. “Did you not want to get settled before attempting to lift the artifact?”

Danny shot a confident grin at the City Spirit, his eyes alight with mischief. “I know we just met and all, but did you really think I would do anything else?”

“No,” Gotham conceded. “I will do my best to aid you on your heist tonight, but please be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” Danny sassed as he let his playful nature wash back over him. “Show me how to change my outfit?”

“As you wish, Little One.”

ヽ(ಠ_ಠ)ノ

Gotham’s setting sun cast an eerie, dark red light across Jason’s apartment. The rays washed over him, making it look like the man was stained with spilled blood. Dick had just set off with a cheery promise to see the other on patrol before slipping out the door, leaving his younger brother alone for the small amount of time it took for the sun to set. Soon, Gotham City would be cast into the darkness of night, with the city’s criminal elements slowly spilling onto the streets.

It was during the night that Jason always felt the most alive.

Before, when he was still living in a shitty Crime Alley apartment, it was because that was when Willis would go out. The arguments that came from him and Catherine would scare Jason more than the gunshots on the street. At least those were outside the safe walls of his home, but inside? To him, that was where the real danger lurked in the form of two angry adults.

Then, it was the streets. They had never been safe - but now that Jason was truly a part of them, he had to learn the tricks to stay alive. Part of that meant finding a safe place to squat, to wait out the evils that lurked in Gotham’s shadowed nights. The Bat was known for hunting and hurting criminals - something Willis had raged about more than once - and Jason was just a street rat who stole to survive. He had to stay alert during the lonely nights. Streets clouded in darkness just weren’t safe for a kid.

After the streets, it was being Robin. Fighting alongside Batman, helping give others hope and protection, and doing what he could to make his home just a little safer was like magic. He felt alive, freer than he ever had before that. It wasn’t just the adrenaline pumping through his veins or the thrill of leaping between rooftops, it was being able to help his home.

Jason was Gotham, born and bred in the darkest parts of the city’s heart. More than Bruce, or Dick, or even Babs could ever be - so of course he felt more alive in the comfort of night.

Then, he died, and being alive was never the same.

He was learning how to live with it, slowly but surely. The waves of green rage had originally helped Jason feel more alive, a little bit more sane while he struggled to figure out who he was. But even his own mind had betrayed him, at the end of the day. Basking in the pit rage had become an addiction, a high that he could use to finally feel again.

Within the past few months, Jason’s mind had been slowly coming down from the almost three-year stint of using the Lazarus Pit’s “gift” as a metaphorical emotional shield. It had been rough, trying to notice when it was the artificial rage whispering in his ear or his own emotions coming to the forefront.

Now, though? Oddly enough, even when Jason reached for the space he had learned the Pit coiled in, the green never threatened to take over. Throughout Dick’s impromptu forceful brotherly-bonding day, Jason hadn’t felt a single peep from the corner of his mind occupied by the unwanted side-effects of a green, gooey hot tub from Hell.

It was nice to be alone in his own mind again.

These thoughts raced around Jason’s mind as he went about the motions of getting ready for a normal patrol. It was odd, thinking the last patrol he had been on led him to the Batcave. Jason had been expecting to feel at least slightly off-center with the Pit Rage gone from its sulking corner. If anything, though, he felt more normal than he had in years.

As heavy kevlar fell to rest comfortably against Jason’s body, he noticed a bullet hole in the shoulder of his uniform. Eyebrows scrunched in confusion, he examined the damaged spot. That hadn’t been there the last time he donned his metaphorical cape, but Jason was pretty sure he would have noticed if he had been shot.

… He would ask Dick about it during patrol. Maybe that was how he ended up as high as a kitten on catnip?

Slipping his guns into their correct holsters, the young man snatched his bright red helmet from its hidden compartment. An almost feral grin danced across his face - the Red Hood coming out to play was always the highlight of Jason’s day.

When the sun had finished slowly sinking below the smog-filled horizon, Jason meandered down a stealthily hidden passageway to the secret bunker that housed most of Hood’s equipment. He was surprised to find his beloved hotrod-red bike parked in its usual spot – Jason figured he would have used one of his less-used bikes until he was able to get it from the Cave.

He didn’t think too long about it, though, as he grabbed the rest of his gear and dropped down onto the piece of machinery. A loud rev of the engine reverberated between the enclosed walls of his bunker as he pressed a button on one of the bike’s handlebars. Across from him, a large garage door slowly groaned to life. Jason kicked off from the ground, jumping into Gotham’s old tunnel system with practice ease.

The tunnels had originally been part of the Court of Owl’s underground hideouts, but after the Bat-family took down their operations, Red Hood had quickly laid a bright-red claim to them - including the bunker under his building. The tunnel system was near-perfect as it was. Some of it needed a bit of repairs and cleanup, but hidden ways to travel around the major points of Gotham with discreet access points was a resource Jason just couldn’t say no to.

It was through one of these openings that the Red Hood burst into the darkened streets, engine loudly announcing the start of Jason’s patrol to any bystanders who may be in earshot.

He quickly sped through the dimly lit streets, expertly navigating to one of the many areas Jason leaves his bike during the night. Today, he had decided, was going to just be an easy patrol. A nice little stroll through Crime Alley, maybe a stop at one of his favorite twenty-four hour hole in the walls, and then finishing up his night with a well-deserved bath.

With that in mind, the Red Hood grappled up to Gotham’s darkened rooftops, letting the city’s shadows envelope him in a cool, familiar embrace. Street lights flickered noisily, enhancing the darkened figures thrown across well-worn buildings. The great expanse of Gotham’s ever-changing skyline greeted the helmeted vigilante as he began his daily patrol across his home territory.

A thick layer of smog blocked the moon and stars from being seen by the millions of Gothamites, the haze from the day still lingering at the very edges of the giant city. The early spring breeze brought a light chill to the night, making Jason glad he had a layered uniform, unlike when he was a child strutting around in Dick’s old scaly panties.

He tapped the side of his helmet three times, turning on the communication unit built into its protective metals. A quiet chatter of his family greeted him and against his will, Jason felt his shoulders drop just a bit.

“-I’m saying that it’s obvious that Ivy and Harley are going to get married soon.” Dick’s voice was broken up by the sounds of wind sweeping across his speaker, small grunts echoing in Jason’s ear as his older brother danced across rooftops in a well-loved routine.

Stephanie’s response came with the usual hyper rush Jason has learned to associate with his fellow street kid. “And I’m saying that I think they’re going to wait a little longer. We all know how Ivy is about commitments.”

“But she and Harley have been dating for years. If the two of them can survive that tantrum Kiteman had a few months ago, then I think they’re pretty much set for life.”

“Quiet on the line.” Bruce’s gravelly tone was a bit of an unwelcome entry in the friendly banter, making Jason fight to contain the natural tensing of his body. He forced himself to relax, jumping from the roof of a crumbling apartment building and onto an old office building in a much similar state.

“Don’t be such a stick in the mud, B.” Dick let out a larger grunt, a fleshy sound accompanying it. “Hey guys, mind if I drop in? Seems like you’re all having the party of a lifetime.”

“Fighting on an open line?” Jason drawled, never one to not poke at Dick. “Watch out, Boy Wonder. Daddy-bat’s gonna ground you at this rate.” A single grunt was the only response Jason’s quip earned, making him sneer a bit under his protective hood.

Figures.

Before the gun-slinging vigilante could even get another word in, he heard the “ping” associated with Oracle dragging his communication unit down onto another line. “Hood, I’ve gotten reports of a gang break-in a few blocks from your location. Double back, it’s the building across from where you stored your bike.”

“Of course,” he groaned, but still dutifully skidded to a stop. Jason threw himself into sprinting back across the different roofs he had just parkoured his way over. “Any more information on the situation?”

“Negative.”

“Wonderful.”

It took him a few minutes, but soon Jason was back in the general area where he had started his night. “Is it the jewelers or the pawn shop?” Jason asked the quiet line, staring down at the littered streets.

“The jewelers,” Babs said. “Footage is showing four guys, their getaway driver is waiting outside near the back. Dark blue van. Best to proceed with the burglars then the driver, from what I can see.”

“Got it, going in now.”

“Good luck.”

The large vigilante dropped down in front of the store, scanning through the broken glass. He could barely see the four figures shoving anything they could grab into worn duffle bags. From what Jason could tell, none of them were armed – meaning he was quick to slip sneakily through the opening they had made when one’s back was turned. It was his odd hybrid training that allowed him to move so quickly and silently when his body mass was constantly working against him.

Hood snuck up behind a robber who was rooting around a now-broken glass case. The vigilante’s quiet movements served him well as he suddenly struck his arms out, grabbing the masked civilian around the throat. The man made an aborted shout, alerting his friends to the vigilante among their ranks as the Red Hood turned them around. Now with the thug between himself and his buddies, Jason tightened his forearm against the warm neck he held hostage.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Jason’s modulated voice rippled over the thieves. “Surrender or you’ll end up like chucklefuck here.” With the end of his statement, he tightened his grip and swept the other man’s legs out from under him, Jason placing one of his own legs between to keep his prey unsteady.

The thief in his arms started babbling pleads as he desperately squirmed in Hood’s grasp. His friends cautiously lowered their bags, one even going as far as to show Jason his free hand.

“Easy now,” The one furthest from the door said. “We’re just tyin’ ta put food on t’ table.”

“That’s understandable,” The masked vigilante said in a tone laced with half-fake sympathy. “But there’s better ways to go around getting money than robbing stores. Surrender and I’m sure prison’ll teach ya’.”

“Yeah,” The far guy spoke up again. “Not gonna happen, cape.” With that, the dude kicked a heavy rock at Jason with surprising accuracy, forcing him to let go of the squirming criminal in his grasp. As much as Jason would be fine with the dude getting a concussion, he’s sure the other bats would not be so chill about it.

The thief that was caught in Jason’s grapple was busy running, trying to make an epic getaway. It gave Jason time to pull out his handgun and a warning shot was fired, putting a smoking hole into the floor in front of the fleeing robber. The man, to his credit, didn’t flinch at the loud noise and instead kept gunning for the exit where his friends were waiting for him.

With a curse, Jason realized a bit late that the three of them were almost at the door – which he noticed had been disarmed. He slipped his gun back into its rightful place before he raced after the three thieves. As they ran through the store, jumping over jewelry cases and feeling his boots slide across scattered glass shards dusting the floor like deadly fallen snow. The vigilante pulled out a bola set from where it was hanging on his utility belt, aimed as best he could while running, and threw it with terrifying accuracy towards the first criminal in the fleeing line.

The bolas caught on the robber’s legs, drawing them up short. With a panicked shout, the man went down like a live oak – with a heavy crash and shaking limbs. The two behind him stumbled to a frightened stop, obviously startled. Jason used those couple precious milliseconds to gain ground on the group, already planning his next move. A gloved hand reached back towards his belt, gripping onto his last bola set. By the time he was re-noticed by the criminals, he was mere feet away from the trio. One of them let out a surprised noise, fleeing the scene and leaving his friends behind. It was him that Jason aimed his bolas at, easily letting the capture weapon fly and snag the wayward robber.

The last one had been trying to help his friend out, on his knees with a knife frantically sawing through the rope binding his buddies’ legs. When Jason was close enough, he pulled the man up by the back of his jacket and punched him across the nose. The squirming criminals’s hands came up to clutch at the bruised cartilage and Jason slapped Bat-grade handcuffs across his wrists.

“Now,” Jason said as he dropped his prey. He turned to look at the other two, focusing on the man at his feet while the one in his hands squirmed around. “Maybe it’s nap-time for some naughty boys.”

“Let us go, Hood!” The man in his hands yelled, drawing Jason’s attention. “C’mon, man, we got families! Don’t throw us in jail!”

“You should have thought of that before you decided crime was your best option.” The helmeted man practically growled. “What would your family say if they found out this was the way you made your money? Huh?”

“Don’t be so naïve, Hood,” The man on the floor snarled.

“How about you shut up, huh?” Jason snapped, looming over the other. He dropped the handcuffed guy next to the one on the floor before manhandling the un-handcuffed guy around to turn him into a newly-minted handcuff guy. “Time to take care of your last pal, boys.” But when Jason lifted his head towards the exit of the darkened store, all he saw was his now-sawed bolas and a wide-open door. “Oh you have got to be shittin’ me.”

With a quick tap to his helmet, Hood rejoined the open line Gotham’s vigilantes used to alert when a crime was stopped as he ran through the open doorway. “Oracle, got two of the four. They’re locked up in cuffs, in pursuit of the others.”

“Noted,” Bab’s steady voice filled Jason’s ears. “I’ve got eyes on their get-away car and contacted GPD - so far they’re heading south through the Bowery.”

“Got it. Do I have time to grab my bike or am I using the Rooftop Express tonight?”

“Get the bike, they’re not slowing down.” Oracle paused for a split-second, no doubt cross-referencing the activities of all the vigilantes roaming the streets. “Red Robin will cut them off if they start heading east.”

Red Hood huffs as he spots his bike, having raced over from the now-destroyed shop. “Sounds good,” he started his bike with a deafening cry from the engine, adrenaline pumping through the ex-crime lord’s veins. It was odd, to be so excited for a chase and not feel r agerageragerage  in the far corners of his mind, threatening to cloud his thoughts with mindless violence. “Streets?”

As Oracle rattles off the street name Hood’s suspects are using to attempt to get away, the man uses his modified bike to its greatest potential. Weaving through traffic was something Jason was used to - it was as natural as grappling across rooftops for the young man. To slip between cars while traveling at high speeds was a rush he craved. Add in the hunt of criminals? Well, Jason was as happy as a Bat with a cold case.

When Jason spotted the criminal’s van, they were deep into the heart of Gotham. He had chased them through the Bowery, over the Robins Bridge. Gotham itself was a city made up of multiple islands - each broken up by different inlets bleeding into the Gotham Bay. Sprang River separated the northernmost parts of Gotham from the older parts of the city, like the Upper East Side, Diamond District, and University District. As soon as Barbara informed Jason that his suspects were heading through the Upper East Side, a plan started to formulate.

The Upper East side was broken into a grid pattern, much like how New York City was. If Jason could speed through the lesser-used streets parallel to 35th, then there was a chance he could cut them off. A quick one-handed pat down of his bike’s stylish saddlebags confirmed he had a set of tire spikes. Hidden under his hood, an excited smile grew.

“Hey, Oracle,” Jason cut off the red-headed wonder’s listing of streets. “I’m going to spike the van. What’s the traffic lookin’ like?”

There was a pause before a resigned sigh filtered through Red Hood’s helmet. “Traffic is mostly clear, they’re closing in on Robinson Park now. Best thing to do is try and get them in that area - it gives me time to stop traffic around there.”

“Perfect,” Hood purred as he pushed his bike faster, expertly weaving around the late-night commuters. In just a few minutes, Hood got the confirmation from Oracle that now was a good time to enact their plan. With a quick twist of his body, Jason’s bike dodged between skyscrapers as he burst onto the main road in the Upper East Side. The criminal’s van was just barely behind him and, having no time to maneuver, ended up driving over the spikes Red Hood threw into the road.

A pop and the eerie screeching of machinery enveloped Jason’s senses as his prey struggled to keep their getaway vehicle under control. When it finally crashed into a light pole, an odd quiet seemed to brush over the city. With an expert flick of his foot, Jason lowered his bike’s kickstand before stalking over to the smoking van. He brought a padded elbow up, smashing the window in a practiced move. As glass fell like a dangerous snow, he paused to take in the sight of the criminals before him.

The van’s airbags had deployed, leaving his two runaways unconscious in their seats. With a huff, the vigilante opened the driver’s door. He checked over the two thugs with practise ease, making sure there were no injuries he may need to know about before moving them out of their now-busted van.

“Got them, Oracle,” Hood said, pulling the two men out of the van. He set them a few feet away, zip-tying their hands and feet together. “Cops on their way?”

“They’ll be there in two minutes. Any chance you can pick up the spikes?”

“Sure,” Jason agreed easily, sauntering his way down the street. He could see the faraway headlights of cars heading his way as he rolled up the spikes. As the black-haired man secured them back into the saddlebags, he heard the distant sound of sirens.

“You best get a move on, Hood,” Oracle cautioned. Typing joined her speech, urgency picking up in her voice as she directed him. “Looks like there’s been a break-in at the History Museum. You’re the closest unoccupied.”

“Seriously?” Jason groused, hopping back onto his bike. He left the criminals in a trail of exhaust right as the Gotham Police Department showed up. The vague threats they made followed the Red Hood as he sped towards the University District. “You know I hate that place.”

“Well, sucks to suck. Batman and Robin are currently chasing down a lead on Penguin’s drug trade, otherwise I would send the two of them.”

Hood paused, his brain going to places he definitely did not want it going. “New lead or the one from yesterday?”

“New lead - Red Robin and Orphan picked it up while you were indisposed.” With a sigh, Hood parked his bike in a random alleyway, taking note of the streets near it. The large man grappled his way up to the roof of the building before starting to parkour his way towards the museum, grumbling the entire way.

It wasn’t that Jason didn’t want to stop a thief, or that he was embarrassed about being drugged the other day. No, it wasn’t that. A fight was something Jason pretty much welcomed every night he donned his guns and helmet. The museum was simply too full of times before. Before he had died, when things were just a bit easier. When it was just him, Dick, Bruce, and Alfred. Back when he wore the scaly panties and hid in Batman’s cape. When banter and quips thrown at villains came easier to him, when he thought Batman would always be there to catch him when Jason fell.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had changed about the museum since the last time he was there, six years ago, stopping Catwoman with Batman. From doing his best to ignore the flirting between his father mentor and the thief.

Now, instead of the hand-me-down Robin uniform, it was the Red Hood armor Jason wore to strike down a thief.

Jason’s musing cut off as he landed hard on the roof across from the museum. The vigilante rolled into a light jog, shaking off the pain racing through his knees. He could see the top of his targeted building, stopping at the edge of the rooftop he was occupying to try and get a better view.

He needed to figure out what caused the alarm to trip on the building in the first place. It didn’t seem like the type of area one of the usual Gotham Rogue Gallery would target for any occasion. Maybe Catwoman, but Jason didn’t know of any jewels in any exhibit that she would try to steal.

“Do you have any information on who might’ve broken in? I can’t think of anything Catwoman would try to get her hands on.” Jason asked as he kept a moving eye on the building across from him.

A thoughtful hum came from the other side of the transmission. “I’m looking at the CCTV footage now. The person who broke in is still inside, and appears to be wearing a dark, hooded outfit. White accents as well - whoever it is, they’re not one of our usuals.” 

Jason cocked his head, body lighting up with a curiosity he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Roger, going in now. Might as well figure out who it is.” Aiming his grapple gun towards a secure part of the museum’s building, he triggered the mechanism with a satisfying pop and whirr. With an ease born from being a Bat, he jumped off the rooftop - soaring above the late-night foot traffic with a small thrill.

Oracle’s voice crackled as she spoke. “Hood, wait for at least one other to arrive before engaging. All CCTV footage is corrupted - this guy must’ve used a localized EMP of some sort, and depending on how strong it is, we might lose contact.”

“I thought the others were occupied?” The man questioned as he landed on top of the museum’s roof. He dropped to a crouch, surveying the space around him.

The Gotham Museum of Natural History was a building made up of pale stone. It had large, rectangular columns racing up the sides to form a grand entrance. The museum was split into four sections: the main part, and then three add-on sections that all intersected at the circular part of the building. While the roof was relatively flat, a massive glass dome rose from the main section with various skylights scattered around the add-ons. It may look cool but, as all the Gotham vigilantes knew, it created many escape routes for various villains to use. Without counting the many, many windows the building boasted.

“Batman and Robin are. Red Robin just finished up with a mugging and Nightwing is heading north. ETA is roughly ten minutes for each.”

Jason shook his head, creeping along the roof. “When did the break-in happen?”

Oracle paused, her silence speaking a thousand words. “About thirteen minutes ago.”

“So they’re probably finishing up grabbing whatever it is, already.” Red Hood kept his eyes out for any sign of break in, eyes expertly scanning the terrain around him.

“Assuming they’re as fast as Catwoman? Yes.”

Jason’s mouth opened to respond when movement through one of the northern add-on’s skylight caught his attention. The Hood hurried his way over, making sure to keep out of sight. As he got closer, static filled his ears. The noise was loud and startled the black-haired vigilante enough for him to quietly curse as he quickly moved to turn off the horrendous noise blasting through the casing covering his skull. Definitely a localized EMP, he thought as he settled next to the skylight to watch the thief.

While Jason typically had decent sight, through the glass he could only describe the person as whispy, almost like the window prevented him from having a clear view. He could barely make out a pitch-black cloak covering the person’s back as they lifted an object from its display pedestal.

Knowing time was running out and not wanting to let this new thief get away, Hood unlatched the skylight with a trick Batman taught him years ago - back when he was still learning the ropes of being Robin. Hooking his grapple claw onto the skylight’s edge, the ex-crime lord silently lowered himself down the large drop as quietly as he could. Even though there was next to no sound of the grapple’s mechanics and his landing was as quiet as an assassin’s, the thief’s head whipped around. Startled, glowing neon eyes met Hood’s through his helmet. Fear gripped Jason’s heart as unblinking Lazarus pools bore into his very soul.

I should’ve waited, Jason thought hysterically as the vigilante and thief stared at each other.

(((ꏿwꏿ;)))

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #batman #fanfic #crossposted on ao3 #putting the fun back in funeral #dpxdc #dcxdp #dead on main #jason todd #lady gotham #jason todd x danny phantom #danny phantom x jason todd #dead on main fic #it took me over a year to write this #but i did it!!! #take thAT DEPRESSION!!! #im so tired #time to nap now #nightnight #batpham

[honeybeefae]

For ACOTAR bingo, can I request a nsfw mating ceremony with Cassian? I love the idea of an Illyrian mating ceremony 🔥

Tradition (Cassian x Reader)

BINGO: Mating Ceremony

(AHHHHHH this was so much fun to write! Also, I came up with these vows all on my own and I’m kind of obsessed with it. I know Illyrians are famous for treating their women less than kind but consider this an adapted version where it’s more tender. I hope you guys enjoy it!!)

WARNINGS: Smut

“Under the moon of the Mother, I take you under my wing and into my soul.

I promise to protect and provide for you, to care for you, and to worship you every 

Morning, noon, and night. You are the wind beneath my wings, the stars that guide 

Me, and the spirit that was destined to follow mine to the ends of time. I swear this 

By the Cauldron, the Gods, and the Mother above, from this day until we 

Become anew. This I promise to you.”

The entire crowd erupted into applause as Cassian pulled you into a kiss, dipping you dramatically as you grinned into the kiss and threw your arms around his neck. You felt like you were on cloud nine and you knew your mate did as well, especially as he picked you up and spun you around. 

Rhys, who was officiating the mating ceremony, clapped both of you on the shoulders with a warm smile. The two of you turned toward your friends, your mouths holding the brightest smiles they had ever seen, before walking down the aisle that was covered in petals of roses.

You were quickly swept away into the grand reception, which you were all too happy to plan and decorate. It was a little fancier than Cassian was used to but the way you looked in your dress and how happiness just radiated off of you, he didn’t mind at all. 

Traditional Illyrian dishes as well as more modern fae meals were served to everyone, wine and other cocktails flowing freely as the two of you drank and danced the night away. As the night went on you couldn’t stop his wandering hands from getting lower, your giggles of anticipation only spurring him on. 

It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning that you finally called it a night. Feyre, Rhys, Nesta, Elain, Az, Amren, and Mor were the only ones left as they wished you a pleasant honeymoon. You clung onto your mate as he walked with you into the open field just past the party, both of you smelling of wine and excitement.

“Shall we, my mate?” You cooed, smirking when hoisted you into his arms. He gave you another long, passionate kiss before taking off into the night sky. 

You squealed at the takeoff, the ground below you spinning before you closed your eyes and relished in the wind flowing over your body. Cassian watched you, absolutely entranced with your beauty, and felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t believe you were his. 

He swooped down as he found the small cabin made for just the two of you. It was a mating gift from Feyre and Rhys, somewhere far away from the river house which you assumed meant they knew what the two of you were going to be getting up to. 

The only sound that could be heard as you landed were crickets and your laughter as he carried you through the front door and straight to the bedroom, dropping you in the middle of the bed. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Cassian flirted, watching as you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I think this might be the tenth time but I certainly won’t complain if you tell me once more.” You smile, gazing up at him through your lashes.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night, not that I normally can anyway.” He murmured, caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. “You are breathtaking…and all mine.”

Your heart fluttered at the low tone of his voice as you stood up to kiss him, enjoying the way his arms wrapped around your waist to pull you impossibly closer. The urgency grew the longer the kiss went, his hands groping your ass and needily tugging at the strings of your corset.

“I’m going to rip this damned thing off of you.” He growled into your ear, kissing your neck as you playfully hit his arm.

“Nuh-uh, this is a special dress, Cass. Give me two seconds.” You hummed, running your thumb over his pouted lips before slipping out of his arms and into the bathroom. 

It was the first time you felt like you could breathe since this morning as you took a moment to rest against the door. Collecting your thoughts, you began to hurriedly undo the ties of your dress. You and Cassian had had sex before but this time would be different, this time you were mates. 

It felt like you were going to lose your virginity all over again.

You rushed to prepare yourself, adjusting the lingerie that you hid underneath your dress. There were some supplies sitting on the bathroom counter that you used to freshen up as well. It took you all of five minutes but you knew how impatient your mate could get so when you finally emerged from the bathroom, he was already waiting with his hand raised to knock.

Shyness blossomed inside as he devoured you with his eyes, looking down at the floor and taking a deep breath. You felt two fingers come underneath your chin before your head was lifted to meet his gaze, his lips inches from yours.

“Why are you so shy?” He purred, voice dripping with sex. “Let me see you.”

After taking a small breath you took a step back, letting him see all of you. His pants were straining from how hard he already was as his nostrils flared and eyes darkened, licking his lips as he started walking towards you.

Despite yourself and your desire for him, you started staggering backward, your heart skipping as your knees hit the back of the bed. Cassian gave you a feral grin and pushed you backward gently, his body following yours as you fell onto the soft mattress. 

“Gods,” His breath ghosted over your lips while his hand trailed up your leg, catching on the garter on your upper thigh. “What did I do to deserve you?” 

“I think I’m the one who got lucky.” You whisper, cupping his face and pulling him down to connect your lips. His scruff scratched against your skin in a tantalizing way, sending a pleasant hum that went all the way to your core as his fingers got closer and closer to where you needed him most.

The scent of your arousal was already thick in the air by the time he caressed the lace of your panties, watching every expression you made as he dipped a finger in shallowly to test you out. It made you gasp, your hips moving to try to get him to push in deeper. 

“I’m going to try my very best to be gentle with you,” Cassian said while pulling your underwear down and letting it fall to the floor. “But I make no promises.”

He thrust two fingers into you slowly, making sure to flex them inside to stretch you out for his cock as you felt your entire body heating up. You bit down on your lip and groaned, breath hitching when her curled his fingers in search of that sensitive spot inside. 

“Cassian-” You gasped, the rest of the sentence dying on your lips when he finally found it. His lips latched onto your neck as he sped up his fingers, making sure to hit that spot every single time until you were already on the edge of coming undone. 

It was becoming too much, too fast, and you wanted him to slow down so that this moment wouldn’t be over so soon. However, your mate had other ideas. He could see you trying to squirm away so he placed a heavy arm on your stomach, pinning you still.

“Now, now, princess. Don’t try to get away from me.” He growled into your ear, looking down to watch his hand fuck you before back up to your face. “I want to feel you cumming all over my fingers. I want to feel that delicious pussy clench around me, feel you drench my hand and the sheets. Do you understand?”

You nodded, your toes already starting to curl as he held you down. You had no choice but to feel everything. He clicked his tongue and bit down on your ear, tugging it with his teeth. 

“I want a yes sir, princess.”

“Y-yes sir,” You whimpered, your back arching as he smirked and started using his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. It pushed you into heaven as you tightened around his fingers, your mouth hanging open in a silent cry as pleasure washed over you over and over again. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.” Cassian praised into your skin as he fucked you through the orgasm, moving his arm off your stomach so he could yank down the lingerie and free your breasts. He started lavishing them with his tongue, taking each nipple into his mouth to suck and bite. 

All of the attention was sending you into overstimulation and you were grateful when he removed his fingers, your eyes hazy as you watched him suck all your juices off. 

Cassian kissed you once more, quick and hungry, before raising back up to undo the ties of his pants. You could see how hard his cock was and weren’t surprised by the wet spot that had formed on his boxers, your mouth watering as he unveiled himself. 

“I love when you look at me like that.” He smirked, stroking himself a few times before climbing back over you. “I want to fuck you like this so I can see your face when I make you cum all over my cock. Do you think you can be a good girl and do that for me?”

“Yes sir.” You smile, your body still tingling from your last orgasm as he rubbed himself up and down your soaking cunt. Cassian pushed in inch by inch until he was bottomed out inside you, a full body shiver running through him from how good you felt.

His hands grabbed yours and put them above your head as he rocked into you, his wings stretched out as you arched into his thrusts. Your already lust-filled head was going into overdrive from the gentle way he was fucking you, too much and yet not enough at the same time.

There was a small spark lighting up in your chest as you stared into his eyes, both of you sharing the same breath, and when you pulled him close to whisper your dark desire that spark turned into flames.

“Please, Cassian, please just take me. Fuck me. Don’t hold back.”

Something shifted in his face as he watched you, waiting to see if you were going to change your mind, before you were suddenly lifted into the air with his hands grabbing your ass as leverage. He shoved you against the wall, the coolness a nice contrast to how hot your body was. 

“You want me to use you like this? Fuck you like a barbaric Illyrian?” He snarled, biting down on your shoulder as you cried out for him. 

“Yes, Cass, yes!” You whined, that thread in your soul slowly unwinding as both of you neared your climax. Cassian could feel it, his desperation growing each second as his wings cocooned the two of you into your own little world. 

Your nails dug into his muscled arms as you pressed your forehead against his, your chest heaving as white, hot light seemed to explode from every nook and crevice of your soul. This was unlike any orgasm you had ever felt. It felt like you were the only two alive, the only two that mattered, and for the first time you felt everything that Cassian was. 

Love. Lust. Wonder. Comfort. Mate. Mate. Mate.

He nuzzled into your neck, right where your pulse was fluttering, and inhaled deeply. It was a primal reaction to the bond and before you could blink he bit down again, a carnal urge to mark you in every way possible. 

“You’re all mine. All. Fucking. Mine.” He followed his words with sharp thrusts, his balls tightening up with the need to release. You nodded, craning your neck as he continued to bite and suck every inch of exposed skin. When you had enough mind to open your eyes, you saw just how close his wings were.

You reached out and stroked them softly, letting your nails rake down them which sent him toppling over the edge. He roared into the night, spilling himself deep within you as left a final bite right above your breast. It was raw and carnal and everything you wanted as you followed him with your third orgasm of the night, milking every last drop of his cum.

Cassian held you still on his cock until he went soft, raising his head just enough to see the marks he had left across your beautiful skin. He grinned when he saw how red and purple they were already becoming.

“I love you, Cass.” You murmured, wiping the sweat off his brow as he gingerly set you down on the floor. “More than life itself.”

“From this day until we become anew.” He echoed his vows from earlier, kissing you softly as the bond between you sang with happiness and devotion. You couldn’t believe how blessed you were to be mated with him, to be able to spend the rest of your lives with this man.

And as he gave you that smoldering look, his eyes alight with mischief, you were also thankful for how blessed he was with that insatiable appetite reserved only for you. 

#acotar #acotar reader #acotar reader smut #acotar bingo #cassian acotar smut #cassian #cassian smut #cassian x reader #cassian x reader smut #cassian acotar #cassian x reader acotar #cassian x reader acotar smut #acotar imagine #acotar imagine smut #acotar imagine reader #acotar imagine reader smut #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #acotar smut #rhysand #feyre #amren #illyrian #smut #acotar headcanon #mating ceremony

[weaveandwood]

Midwinter in Waterdeep: Part Three

Gale/Tav | Angst & Pining | Read Part One | Read Part Two | Read on AO3

Summary:

Over a year after their relationship ends, fate brings the couple back together for one too-short night.

The sun set and the moon rose in the night sky without a sign of Gale. She was once again confronted with her demons, whispering in her ear about his habit of getting so lost in his own work and focused on his own ambitions that he left her alone, adrift, and purposeless in the aftermath of their adventure and again now. Her only solution then had been to run, leaving him and the biggest piece of her heart behind. Those demons tugged at her another time. She wasn’t strong enough to resist them. I can’t do this. 

AN: The final installment is here! Thank everyone so much for all your support on this mini series. I hope you love it as much as I do, and I'm sorry for ripping out your hearts along the way. CN: Suggestive language, mild descriptions of panic

The first Midwinter was spent in reverence of each other. They watched the annual fireworks from his balcony and stayed up until the dawn began its ascent over the horizon. Hours were spent relearning each other’s bodies and minds after being strangers for so long. She spoke of her jobs, the contracts she accepted, the locations she visited as he kissed her neck in that one spot that was her undoing and his hands worked his way up her thighs. He spoke of his apprentices, new spells he was crafting, his colleagues turned friends while she kissed the faint remnants of the orb tattoo on his chest, her hand trailing down the line of his stomach. He worshiped her throughout the night and she accepted his offerings gladly.

While the sun rose, she lay in his arms, head on his bare chest as they made plans to spend next Midwinter together. 

Dangerous. Tempting. Stupid.

He cast an illusion to make it snow in what used to be the bedroom they shared, just to see the smile on her face that would no doubt satisfy him for another year. She kept the longing she had to stay with him locked away deep inside, remembering the tormented look on his face the previous night when he ran to her. She couldn’t be the cause of that again, she didn’t trust herself with his heart.

They both wept after they parted. 

**

The second Midwinter, they met in the market - the first time Gale had been in almost two years. They got sweet rolls and held hands as they walked to the inn he reserved for them this holiday. They barely got into the room before their bodies collided and their clothes ended up in a wrinkled pile on the floor, not wanting an inch of space to come between them on their one, too-short night together where she was his and he was hers, though both confessed there was no one else during their time apart. 

She asked for another illusion as he traced his fingers up and down her bare back, the muscles and small scars from so many adventures illuminated by the moonlight. He made the room fill with small glowing rabbits, her favorite animal. 

“You remembered.” “How could I ever forget anything about you?”

He gifted her a sending stone that was modified to only relay a signal when the pair were within a certain distance from each other, so he would know she was near, that she was safe at least one day a year. He kept its partner with him at all times - if not in his pocket, then within arm’s reach, counting down the days until he could feel the trace hum of magic that said she was close, that she was coming back to him. She always kept the stone in her pack or under her pillow as she slept in the wilds and reminisced about stolen moments in tents with him. 

***

The third Midwinter, the sending stone in his pocket flickered to life a day earlier than expected, before the sunrise. He met her at the gates of the city full of concern, but she relieved his fears by explaining she had extra time this year and could stay this additional day, if he wanted. Of course he wanted! He was elated as they walked back to the tower, but had to finish up the term today. He kissed her deeply and promised to be back by sunset, a familiar line she had heard plenty before.

Hours ticked by in quiet solitude. The walls of the tower closed in on her and the sounds of the city aggravated instead of soothed. The sun set and the moon rose in the night sky without a sign of Gale. She was once again confronted with her demons, whispering in her ear about his habit of getting so lost in his own work and focused on his own ambitions that he left her alone, adrift, and purposeless in the aftermath of their adventure and again now. Her only solution then had been to run, leaving him and the biggest piece of her heart behind. Those demons tugged at her another time. She wasn’t strong enough to resist them.

I can’t do this. 

The day had completely gotten away from him - he didn’t realize how late it had become as he rushed home after a long day of examinations and meetings with fellow professors. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of spending two nights with the love of his life, lost in memory and passion. 

He called out to her as he walked in, receiving no response. The tower was empty. His breathing quickened as he collapsed against the wall in the entry, sinking to the floor. A cold panic took over as he found himself alone, reliving that first day all those years ago. He ran his shaking hands through his hair, looking for a note, a sign, anything…and found no trace of her. 

She’s not here.

She didn’t come back that night. The next morning, he ignored the faint buzzing from the stone as he walked to Blackstaff to finish some paperwork before properly starting his holiday as he did every year, though this year it was more of a distraction than anything. He came home late to find a package on his doorstep - a small silver moon earring to wear in the empty piercing where Mystra’s symbol used to reside with a note that read “Be a moon unto yourself.” He could feel her watching but went inside anyway. He tucked the parcel in the same drawer with her ring and extinguished all the lights in his tower, wearily retreating to his study. 

She sat across the street from the tower huddled in her coat, crying through the fireworks until the early morning. Something broke inside her that night, deeper than what already was fractured. 

I’m sorry. 

****

The fourth Midwinter, he received a delivery at his office in Blackstaff Academy. Inside was a sending stone, almost exactly like the one he had gotten her two years ago. His heart beat faster - was she returning it? Was this goodbye? Had the last Midwinter ruined them? They hadn’t spoken but at times he felt his original stone humming, knowing she was near Waterdeep on a few occasions over the last year, resisting the urge to go to the gates each time for a glimpse of her. 

He felt the familiar crackle of magic as he inspected the parcel. No, this one is a different stone, he thought with relief, hearing her voice when he touched it for the first time.

I love you. I’m here. Meet me outside of the city if you can forgive me.

His eyes filled with tears, replying with the only message he could ever respond to her with.

I love you.

She smiled to herself as she heard his warm voice in her head. I love you. It was the first time they had said it to each other in so long - even before she had left him. A flicker of hope surged within her. She met him at the gates as the sun set, grabbing his robes and pulling him to her to kiss him deeply before he even had a chance to say hello. There was so much to say, so much to confess, and so little time. She took his hand and led him away from the city, deep into the woods off the main road where she had set up a tent for them, a campfire waiting. He moved to kiss her, to begin their usual dance of removing clothes and grasping at each other to stave off the chill in the air and the loneliness in their hearts. He longed to touch her, to feel himself inside her again. 

She stopped him. 

He listened as she told him about her next adventure on the other side of the continent. How she purchased the new sending stones because she wanted to hear his voice in her head every day when she would be so far from him. How after last Midwinter, she wanted to move forward and not spend every moment together thinking about the hurts of the past. How she realized the irony of her saying that while sitting in a campsite that was reminiscent of the one they shared all those years ago. How she was ready, finally, to offer more and hoped he would accept. 

“I love you, Gale.”  She’s real. “I love you, too.” She’s here.

The Midwinter fireworks from Waterdeep looked especially beautiful that night as they made love underneath them. 

*****

The fifth Midwinter, she met him at the gates of the city, his message that morning running through her head. Meet me at the gates at our usual time. I have a surprise for you. I love you. 

Every day they sent each other a message through the stones. Every first message ended with “I love you.” Every reply started with “I love you.”

He was practically buzzing when he saw her, drawing her tightly into his embrace, just as he did that night five years ago when she came back into his life by a chance of fate - and yes, after that night he most certainly was a bigger believer in fate. She was safe, she was here, and she loved him. He led her to the woods, the same spot she set up their campsite the previous year. In its place was a small cabin surrounded by wildness, enchanted to be invisible to everyone but the two of them. 

He needed her like air, but he refused to suffocate her with that need - not with traditional roles or expectations, not with her always having to adjust to fit into his life, his routine, his schedule, never the other way around. He wanted to fit into her life. She was the moon, she was the stars, she was the sky. She was precious to him, more important to him than even the Weave. He didn’t need anything but her - not his tower, not his accolades…just her. He loved her, and saw her, and understood what she was capable of offering. This cabin, he hoped, would be proof of that, and would be their home when she was between contracts, between adventures. 

She cried as he said all of this to her with tears streaming down his own smiling face. He held out the silver ring he had purchased for her all those years ago. She couldn’t believe he had kept it safe, looked after it as if he knew she would be back. They were different people then. They were different people now. After all this time, he remained devoted to her, steadfast, even as she pushed and pulled, clawing at the boundaries of his love. She believed him - for the first time, she felt understood. She was understood. He knew her, he was safe, he was here, and he loved her. She knew there could never be anyone else for either of them. He was her home. This was her home.

They kissed as he slipped the ring onto her finger. 

******

The sixth Midwinter, Gale found himself looking out the window of their cabin watching the snow while he prepared their dinner for the evening, replaying their messages from that morning in his head. 

I will be home at sunset. Will be with you for a month. I love you.

I love you. Please hurry back to me, I cannot bear to be apart from you much longer.

He laughed softly to himself. Home. If you had asked him five years ago, while he was bereft and reeling, what he thought home was he would have told you a study full of books, a desk littered with parchment, and a full wine cellar. Now? Home was the smile she gave him when he cast illusions. Home was the way she laid her head on his lap when he read to her, no matter the subject. Home was the way she brought him tea and kissed the top of his head as he stayed up late, working on new spells and theories by candlelight. Home was the sound of her voice calling his name as his mouth was between her thighs. Home was a tiny cabin hidden deep in the woods. 

He twirled the silver ring on his own finger, the twin to hers. He had felt the hum of the original sending stone only a few months after their last Midwinter, during Greengrass. He rushed to the cabin after classes were completed for the day, wondering why she hadn’t told him anything through their messaging stones, wondering if the original stones were malfunctioning. He had no sooner opened the door before she pulled him in and kissed him deeply. He led her to the bedroom, both of them shedding layers of clothing along the way as they reunited. Later that evening, she lazily ran her fingers through his hair as the dancing lights he cast hovered over them, lighting the room in a beautiful pale blue glow. 

“Marry me, Gale.”

They were married that week in a small ceremony, only Tara and Morena in attendance, though once word got out, many congratulations poured in from all over the Sword Coast. She had left later that week, and now she was finally coming home. He glanced at the bags he had brought from the tower, full of work and tomes, and contemplated putting them away before he felt his favorite hum of magic in all the world. 

She stood in front of their cabin, looking in through the window at him. Her eyes watered, whether from joy or the wind she couldn’t say, but she’d blame the wind anyway. Four small glowing rabbits hopped around at her feet and led her to the door. 

“Welcome home, my love.”

#bg3 #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 fanfiction #gale fic #gale x tav #gale x f!tav #gale x auroria #my writing #midwinter in waterdeep #baldur’s gate 3 #I don't know how to express how happy i am with this and i hope everyone else is too

[cambion-companion]

Hello. I read your repost and found the story of aemond in the brothel completely intriguing. you could write a story for aemond x reader, after the wedding he goes to bed with his wife, but first he talks about the experience, demonstrates vulnerability, which he never showed.

Hi! I am a hot mess after the events of today! Aemond needs all the love and I am more than happy to write a fic that delivers!

Aemond x reader | illusions to non-consensual intimacy from Aemond's past | healing | fluff | give the man a hug!!

Your wedding day was everything you had ever dreamed of.  Most women from the noble houses of Westeros did not have the privilege to marry the man they loved, and how you loved him.  You stared up into his face as he repeated the Old Valyrian vows of unity, his long silver-white hair shone as it fell down his back and over his shoulders.  His violet eye, gaze always so intent on your features, flickered between your own eyes and his smile widened as you took your turn to recite the vows of marriage.

Aemond was not the monster so many whispered him to be.  He had been rather cold to you upon first meeting, true, but once establishing you had not judged his character before getting to know him, Aemond had opened up to you like a well-read book.  You had fallen for him twice as fast as he for you, and now here you both stood, at the precipice of matrimony.

Aemond leaned his head down and captured your lips with his in a chaste kiss, you were so caught up in the moment, the sound of cheering dulled in your ears, all you could hear was the rush of blood as your heart thrummed happily.  The festivities were a blur of dancing, eating and kissing with the eagerness of two newlyweds desperately in love.

When the hour grew late and the moon rose high in the sky, reflecting with luminesce off the rolling ocean, Aemond grabbed your hand and tugged you to follow him off the dance floor and away from the boisterous room.  Several hands slapped him jovially on the shoulder as you ran past, eager to be alone together.

Finally turning the corner of an empty corridor you were led by the hand into Aemond’s spacious chambers, shutting the heavy oak door behind you.  He turned to you immediately, pushing your back against the wooden frame, your face in his hands, and kissed you fiercely. You lips molded against his, moving with him as his hands found the nape of you neck. Your own fingers twisted in Aemond’s silky hair, tugging slightly, eliciting a small gasp from your new husband.  You pulled again, his mouth opened slightly against yours, and you used the opportunity to run your tongue along his.  Your right hand slid down to the tunic fabric at his waist and tugged him further against your body.  

Aemond broke your embrace with sudden abruptness, he stepped back slightly, running a hand through his mussed hair and eyeing you with something akin to guilt.  “Forgive me, Y/N.  I need a moment.”  

You moved away from the door and followed him further into the room. “Of course, my love.  There is no need to rush.”

You walked to the dresser, running the back of your finger down his cheek affectionately before passing him.  Aemond leaned into your touch briefly before turning his back to you.  His shoulders were tense, and his left hand was clenching and unclenching, a sign you knew from him to mean he was stressed about something.

Standing by the mahogany dresser, you began pulling the numerous pins from your hair, until it fell loose about you. “Aemond…would you mind helping me with my dress?  I crave to be out of this suffocating corset.”

Aemond started, as if he had been lost in thought, before turning to you.  His eye ran up and down your form quickly before he stepped forward with the ghost of a smile upon his lips. “Of course, lady wife. Turn around.”

Some of the usual mischief had reentered his voice, giving you hope all was well. You turned to present the back of your dress to him and you felt his long fingers begin to undo the lacings.  Aemond made short work of the dress ties, making only a few grunts of annoyance as a piece of fabric caught.  You made no effort to catch the dress as it fell in a heavy pile to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your shift. A brief silence, a pregnant pause, before you felt his hands caress your sides with featherlight care.  His lips found your exposed shoulder and he placed chaste kissed along it and up your neck.  You tilted your head, scrunching your shoulder up, and laughed. “Aemond, please, that tickles!”

You felt his hot breath stir your hair as he laughed with you, his hands still moving up and down your waist.  “Say that once more, Y/N.”

You felt a sly smile tug at your lips. “Tickles?”

The light touches at your sides transformed with alacrity into prods and pinches at your ribs, causing you to twitch and try to break free of Aemond’s clutches. Between you struggling against his wicked fingers and laughing, you were soon gasping for air. “Aemond!” You had turned to face him, pushing against his chest and trying to slap his hands away. “Aemond, stop it!”  Tears of mirth began to prick at your eyes, his own laughter intermixing with yours. “Aemond, please!”

“Ah, there it is.”  He ceased his torturous administrations at once. “The word I like so much coming from your lips.”

He kissed you again.

He backed you up until the back of your knees hit the mattress and you collapsed onto it.  Aemond followed, leaning over you, nose brushing yours.  

You stared up into his handsome face, fingering the silver hair that pooled on your chest.  “I love you.”

Aemond’s eye widened briefly, his pupil dilated leaving only a small ring of purple. To your disappointment, your husband pulled away from you again.  He moved to sit next to you on the bed, looking down into your confused face, he ran his fingers through your hair splayed on the mattress. “I must confess something to you, Y/N.”  

Your heart stuttered at his words, a sudden weight in your chest.  You sat up to meet his eye level, placing a hand on his knee. “You can tell me anything, Aemond.  You know this.”

He put his own hand over yours, studying your expressions with his keen gaze. “I have been with a woman before.  Though it was not exactly…” He struggled a moment to find the words. “Not exactly my idea.  Aegon took me to a brothel, when I was thirteen, he wanted to educate me in…the ways of the flesh. Said I needed to learn how to be a man.”  Now that Aemond had begun speaking, the words spilled from him in a flood of barely surprised emotion. He stared at you with an expression bordering on pleading, silently asking you to understand. To forgive him.  “I did not want-I did not ask to go.” Aemond became frustrated, he stood and began pacing the room in agitation.  “I was already seen as less than a man because of my eye, saying ‘no’ to a woman was simply not an option for me!”  His usually velvet voice was raised slightly, sounding strained.

Your chest constricted, heart hurting for him, the man you so admired and cherished.  He had stopped pacing and remained remarkably still in front of you, eye fixed upon your face.  “I did not want it.”  He repeated softly, his fist closing in upon itself briefly before relaxing again.

“Aemond…” You held your arms out to him.  A question.  

With a heavy sigh, Aemond came into your embrace, burying his hands in your hair as you wrapped your arms around his waist. “I will never stop loving you, Aemond.” You repeated his name like a prayer. “I will never send you from me, so long as you remain honest with me.”

Aemond sunk to his knees in front of you, bringing his face level with yours.  You noticed the wetness on his cheek and brushed at it with your thumb.  “You are the warmth in my heart, the hope in my darkest days.  But most of all you’re my love.”

Aemond’s breathing shuddered at your words, his lower lip trembled slightly. “My heart is yours, Y/N, and ever will be.  Until the end of the world.”  

His hands moved to grip your upper arms, gently pulling you into him.  You ran your hands along Aemond’s back, pouring all the love you felt for him into the embrace.  

The two of you remained in that position for a long time, the minutes moving with tender slowness, as you breathed as one.  You would cherish Aemond all your days given the chance, and you knew his love for you would last all of this life and into the next.

Always.

#aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fic

[perfectsunlight]

(𝟕𝟎) - 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: none

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

5 YEARS LATER

the sounds of the ocean waves crashing against the shore echoed in your ears as you walked through the sand, the cool breeze ruffling your hair and sending a shiver of delight down your spine. jimin's hand was in yours, her fingers interlocked with yours, and the sensation of her touch was both comforting and electrifying. the two of you strolled along the shoreline, the wet sand beneath your feet leaving a trail of footprints as you ventured further into the embrace of the tranquil beach.

the sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow that painted everything in ethereal shades. the world around you seemed to be in a state of suspended beauty, each moment existing in perfect harmony with the next. the rhythmic ebb and flow of the waves provided a soothing soundtrack, a melody that synchronized with the steady rhythm of your heartbeats.

as you walked, memories of your past flooded your mind. this beach held a special place in your heart, as it was the same location where you and your lover had attended the lantern festival years ago. the magic of that night was the catalyst to the journey of your renewed relationship.

you glanced at jimin, her profile illuminated by the daylight. her smile was a radiant reflection of the happiness you both felt, a silent acknowledgment of the journey you had undertaken together. the years had been kind, bringing success and fulfillment to both of your groups. aespa and le sserafim had become pillars of the industry, leaving their mark on the fourth generation of idols and opening the door for the fifth generation.

your thoughts wandered to the present moment, your upcoming contract renewal looming on the horizon. aespa had recently made the decision to renew their contract for another four years, a choice that signified their commitment to their journey as a group. the music industry was evolving, and the decision was a reflection of the changing landscape and the group's aspirations for the future.

with a squeeze of jimin's hand, you found comfort in her presence. the path ahead was filled with uncertainty, but the bond you shared gave you strength and reassurance. the future was a canvas waiting to be painted, a story waiting to be written, and you were determined to face it together.

"did you miss this place?" jimin's voice broke the silence, her tone a mixture of nostalgia and fondness. "i know i did."

you nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "i did. i think i’ll always miss it here.”

jimin's eyes met yours, and in that moment, it was as if time stood still. the love and understanding that passed between you was palpable, a testament to the journey you had shared, the challenges you had overcome, and the dreams you had pursued.

as you continued your leisurely walk along the shoreline, the sun's warm embrace cast a golden halo around you both, painting the world in hues of amber and rose. the gentle lapping of the waves against the sand provided a soothing rhythm, a backdrop to the symphony of emotions that swirled between you. every step you took felt like a dance, a choreography of heartbeats and whispered promises.

jimin's gaze held a certain intensity, a fire that burned with a passion you had grown to cherish. the way she looked at you spoke volumes, a language of love that transcended words. her fingers tightened around yours, and you could feel the energy that pulsed through her, a magnetic force drawing you closer.

as the two of you came to a stop, the sun's golden rays seemed to converge around you, casting a spotlight on the moment that was about to unfold. the world around you seemed to just melt into the both of you as you bathed in the light of dusk.

you walked a little closer to the water, not letting go of jimin’s hand as she stood behind you a few steps. the water rushed up to your ankles, a soothing sensation paired with the sand between your toes. behind you, you heard the raven haired girl taking a deep breath.

her voice, when it came, was a gentle caress intertwined with the ambience of the nature around you two. "you know," she began, and you could hear the smile on her lips, "this place holds a lot of memories for us."

a soft smile played on your lips as you nodded, your heart swelling with a mixture of anticipation and wonder. "it really does. we should bring our members here sometime. they’d love it.”

every year, on the date of your anniversary, you and your girlfriend made the trip down to busan. it was a little tradition you did, and each time you were here together, you made even more memories.

jimin's thumb caressed the top of your hand, her touch sending a cascade of warmth through your being. her gaze remained on you. you couldn’t see it, but the idol swore you shone brighter than the sun on the horizon.

your eyes were glued to the scenery in front of you. the evening tide created a symphony of sounds as the waves continued to meet the shore. mentally you took a photo of the view. a few seagulls flew overhead and the salt air reminded you that you were present in this moment.

something in the sand caught your eye as you leaned down to pick up a seashell you found underneath your foot. it was small and teal, holding intricate swirls and lines. “hey look at this…” 

the rest of the words died in your throat as you turned around and saw your girlfriend on one knee.

with one hand still holding yours, jimin rested the other on the top of her knee. the waves still met skin, and jimin didn’t care that her jeans were getting wet right now. all she cared about was you.

all she would ever care about would be you.

“this place does hold a lot of memories for us,” the dark haired girl repeated slowly, grazing her thumb across the top of your hand once more. “but i want to make one more.”

jimin's voice was a soft melody that seemed to weave itself into the very fabric of the evening, her words carrying a weight that transcended time and space. her eyes bore into yours, a profound intensity that held your gaze captive, the world around you fading into insignificance as you stood on the precipice of a moment that would forever shape your destiny.

"i've only seen daylight since the moment i met you," she confessed, her voice steady yet filled with a depth of emotion that resonated within your heart. "i’d been sleeping so long in a 20 year dark night. but now i only see daylight."

her words held a gravity that left you breathless, each syllable etching itself into your soul. you felt a lump forming in your throat, emotions swirling like a tempest within you, and the seashell in your hand felt like a precious artifact, a symbol of the memories you had shared and the moments yet to come.

your lover’s midnight gaze remained locked with yours, unwavering and intense. "i once believed love would be black and white," she continued, her voice soft yet resolute. “but it’s golden. you've painted my world with shades of color that i never thought possible.”

a tear escaped your eye, tracing a glistening path down your cheek as her words enveloped you in an embrace of emotions. the sun had descended lower, casting an ethereal glow around you, as if nature itself was bearing witness to this profound declaration of love.

"i don't want to look at anything else now that i saw you," jimin's voice held a mixture of vulnerability and determination, a plea that echoed through the very depths of your soul. "you are my sun, my muse, and my anchor. everything i do is for you.”

she took a deep breath, her gaze never leaving yours, her hand still resting on her knee, the waves continuing their tender caress against her skin. “and i want it to always be that way. i want everything about me, to always be about you.”

the world seemed to hold its breath, every element of nature converging to amplify this moment. 

"you know," her voice trembled slightly, a testament to the intensity of her emotions, "i bought you this on the day you left all those years ago. we’ve come a long way since then, but there’s one thing that i know hasn’t changed.”

time seemed to stand still, the universe holding its collective breath as the weight of her question hung in the air. your heart thudded loudly in your chest, the seashell in your hand becoming a talisman of your fate.

you gazed into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability and devotion that radiated from her, feeling the bond that had grown between you over the years. the tears in your eyes shimmered like stars, reflecting the love that had brought you to this moment.

jimin’s own tears glistened along her waterline as wind blew through her hair. she could feel her pulse in her ears as she slowly opened the velvet box with her free hand. there in all its glory, was the golden band with the single diamond. it was still just as beautiful as it was on the day your lover had first seen it.

the same could be said for you. no, it actually couldn't. because you were even more beautiful with each passing day. 

at the sight of the ring, your tears spilled over even more. you felt your heart swell, the sensation almost overwhelming as the gravity of her words settled over you like a warm embrace. the evening sun painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, casting an otherworldly glow around the two of you, as if the very universe was conspiring to create a canvas for your love.

the air was charged with anticipation, each moment stretched to its fullest as you both stood on the precipice of forever. jimin's hand trembled slightly, a mixture of nerves and raw emotion, as she slowly opened the velvet box with her free hand. the ring glistened in the fading sunlight, seeming to capture the very essence of your love.

her tears mirrored your own, shimmering like stars in the twilight sky. the emotions in the air were palpable, a testament to the depth of the connection that had grown between you over the years. time seemed to fold in on itself, every moment you had shared leading you to this culmination, this exquisite declaration of your love and commitment.

"choi y/n," her voice quivered, the final thread that held you both on the edge of destiny, "will you marry me?"

the question hung in the air like a delicate note, a melody that resonated in your heart and soul. and in that suspended moment, you felt the weight of your answer, the gravity of your decision, and the boundless love that had brought you to this juncture.

"yes," you whispered, your voice echoing through the universe, carrying with it a lifetime of dreams and desires. "yes, a thousand times yes."

a radiant smile lit up on the older girl’s face, her eyes glistening with tears of joy as she slipped the ring onto your finger. the sun sank lower, casting a warm, golden glow over the beach, as if nature itself was applauding your union.

and then, as if guided by an invisible force, the two of you moved as one, drawn by an irresistible magnetic pull. in a whirlwind of emotion, laughter, and sheer exhilaration, your lips met in a passionate, tender kiss. the world seemed to dissolve around you, leaving only the sensations of each other's touch, the taste of salt on your lips, and the symphony of the waves as your backdrop. 

with a joyous laugh that bubbled up from the depths of your beings, you stumbled backward, your bodies entwined as you fell into the inviting embrace of the ocean. the cool water enveloped you both, completely soaking the both of you.

“i love you.” jimin shouted over the waves crashing over you two. you couldn’t help but laugh even more as she brushed a few wet strands of hair out of your face. the water clung to your clothes, making them heavy but somehow enhancing the weightlessness you both felt in each other's arms. as you laid on top of your now fiancé, you couldn’t help but smile. 

and as you smiled, yu jimin could only mirror you. it was always going to be like this. everything about her was always going to be about you.

she wouldn’t have it any other way, and neither would you.

this was the beginning of a new chapter of a love story that had been written in the stars and now continued to unfold in the embrace of the sea. 

because everything turned out okay in the end. to be honest, jimin had married you in her head back when you were just trainees. if only she could go back and tell her 16 year old self that the two of you made it. 

the stars had aligned, the sun and the moon had danced for days, the ocean and the air both caressing each other for hundreds of days straight to witness this moment in time.

as jimin’s lips met yours once again, still laying on top of her on the sand in the water, you couldn’t help but remember what you had told yourself all those years ago on this very same beach.

ironically, it also answered the question you had been asking yourself for years. but either way deep down, you had always known the truth.

you could never forget about yu jimin. and yu jimin could never forget about you.

“i love you, too.”

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝.

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 >:) 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢'𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐟𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝?? 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫. :) 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥.

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ┊ ☪︎⋆ ⊹ ┊ . ˚ ✧

you and jimin met as trainees before she debuted, and you two never felt more in love. however, once she breaks up with you before her debut, you completely leave SM entertainment under the notion of needing a fresh start. you eventually debuted a few years later in le sserafim, where you met huh yunjin and have slowly started developing feelings for the idol. much to karina's dismay, she hates to see you have moved on, but deep in your own heart, you still can't help but feel as if maybe she has forgotten about you.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @captivq , @wonyoluvr , @yunalvrrr , @spritin , @babycubchae , @vnschldd , @sserafimez , @chaersly , @rosiehrs , @baldd , @bwljules , @jenaissantesworld , @jennasluma , @dream-chasers-things , @lcv3lies , @elyds , @archerheejin , @vnschldd , @skisk1 , @cfvgbhndun-new-blog , @silantryoo , @phamminji , @bzeus28 , @writingficsblog , @strangegirlcode , @uzumakioden , @noiacha , @sserabey , @archerheejin , @pindoris , @yourstrulytrissmerigold , @jisooftme , @yacii , @ddrummie , @justalittledissociation

[ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 ]

#smau #kpop #kpop smau #aespa #lesserafim #yunjin x reader #aespa x reader #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin #karina x reader #yu jimin #yu jimin x reader #about you #perfectsunlight

[nanamimizz]

tags: 18+ minors dni, a/b/o verse, fem reader, omega reader, alpha john, licking, marking, themes of jealousy and possessiveness. for @prettyboykatsuki with their explicit permission.

synopsis: jealousy comes knocking on our door no matter what or when or why.

He doesn’t smell like you, it’s the first thing you realize when John Marston walks back into camp after taking Old Boy to the horse hitches with the rest of them. It makes your body twitch and stall for just a moment - you spill some water on the table that Mr.Pearson reprimands you for and you can only half apologize. You watch with sharp eyes how he moves, how he walks and how John easily slots himself next to the other men at the table with his hands on his gun belt even when he is passed a bottle of whiskey.

The camp is large and has a variety of scents and smells, one gets used to them and you can identify them as easily as picking out the white clouds from the blue sky. Pine for Charles, lavender for Mary-Beth and firewood for John Martson who is currently being covered by the scent of roses and cherries that you know no one at camp smells like and it makes something inside of you insane at this outsider’s scent. It’s enough to make you excuse yourself, marching over to the scarred man and tugging him behind you, away from the men who watch with amused expressions on their faces as John almost trips with the force you pull him into your shared tent.

The thick wooden beam that supports the middle of the tent is your witness stand as you push the taller, broader alpha to the wood and hold him there by the shoulders, nails digging through the sleeves of his coat. There’s an alarmed undercut to his firewood and brandy scent, agitation and nerves biting against your own as you bare your teeth at him.

“What is it with you, woman?” He asks you, dark brows furrowed and his scowl on his scared face would make anyone cower but you with your stubborn fearlessness that you push him further against the wood as the sweetness of your foreign scent turns sour in your agitation.

“Why do you smell like that - like some, fucking tramp?!” You hiss, voice low but venomous and John has no doubt that if you had a tail it would be flickering behind you with your jowls peeled back like some sort of feral hellcat. John frowns, brows pinched as he tries to free his arms from your grip.

“What you mean? I smell fine.” He throws back, bringing the lapel of his jacket to sniff half heartedly - picking up on nothing out of the usual. You puff, muttering some words under your breath. The only ones he catches are calling him the village fool as you crowd him, pressing yourself flush to him and John is happy that you closed the tent behind you so no one at camp can see how the fullness of your figure perfectly melts into his. There’s a flush to his cheeks that was not there before and you can’t notice it on how you feel sick on the scent of roses. On the tips of your toes, you press your face onto his neck and rub against the scent glands there. Pressing and rubbing until your cheeks shine with the scent of firewood and musk and brandy as you huff into his skin. Your tongue sneaks out to lap at the oils and John jumps beneath your silken touch as you moan softly against his flushed form. The salt of him melds onto your mouth as his scent clouds your mind and the sour-mango scent fogging the enclosed space of the tent blooms in golden nectar and clove.

It’s enough to make him moan, enough to make something heady flush in his mind as your teeth once bared nip and suck until the alabaster skin of his throat turns into purple petals of the jarul flower you would catch along the coasts. You pull away only to be tugged back and John’s voice is reduced to raspy little sounds in your ear as you lick, bite and suck at the other side of his neck until you can see the indents of your teeth as red as a sunset. If you could, you would have stayed there for hours, scenting and marking your John until he reeked of mangos and clove and henna leaves and so many things from the other side of the world.

“You’re mine, don’t ever - don’t ever come back smelling like you ain’t.” You mutter in between nips of your sharpened teeth.

So he’d never smell of anything other than you ever again.

But his name is called by Hosea, who’s voice is like a spear of sobriety through the veil of omega-posession and alpha-want that makes you pull away. John is a vision and you are too, red faced and panting; face slick with drool and oils from his scent glands. Dark eyes look at you with a wanting so deep you are tempted to disobey Hosea’s call until it rings out again clear as day. It makes John swallow, ducking his head and running a scared, calloused hand through his head as he nods to you.

“I’ll see you later, um…okay. I’ll see you tonight. Here.” He mutters, ducking away and out the tent flap cursing when he hears some of the men holler at the marks on his neck and the heavy scent of omega on his clothes. You find yourself unbothered as you step out and return to Mr.Pearson who finds himself unable to look you in the eyes.

#lamb.writes #john marston x reader #rdr2 x reader #abo verse #red dead redemption 2 x reader