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lanterns-and-daydreams · 3 months

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Hello! This is my first ever fanfic that i have written, so it might be kind of bad, but please bear with me. I hope you enjoy it :)

WINE AND WOES

Warnings: spoilers of The Battle of the Labyrinth and The Last Olympian

CHAPTER 1

NIGHTMARES

Pollux

I cant breathe. My throat feels like its constricting. I feel like im being strangled. Theres hands on my neck, his hands. Help. Help. Help-

I jolt awake, breathing heavily. The room is quiet, the only sound being my heavy, laboured breaths. I sit up slowly, my lungs feeling like their burning, my eyes stinging. I look around my dorm. I moved to Camp Jupiter a while after the battle with Gaia to go New Rome University to study botany.

I try to regulate my breathing, but its hard, especially when thoughts of him plague me almost every night. My throat constricts. Its been years since he died, and yet, everytime i think of him, my heart feels as if theres a hole in its place. A gaping hole, full of nothing but grief, regret, and guilt. I couldve saved him, i shouldve saved him. I shouldve been there. It should've been me and not him. Tears sting my eyes and threaten to fall as i try desperately not to remember his face. But that proves to be extremely difficult when his face is the same as mine

Its your fault

Its not my fault i try to convince myself, albeit however much it sounds like a lie

Is that the delusion you live under?

Please. Please, leave me alone, as if im not haunted enough

You deserve it. You deserve this pain.

The tears begin to slowly roll down my cheeks and i can do nothing to stop them. My breath hitches and i sob. He haunts my nightmares, he haunts me and won't leave me alone. I can never escape him, no matter how hard i try. He looks like me. Everytime i look in the mirror, i see him. His lifeless face. The face that couldve-- shouldve-- been full of life and light. A face that shouldve been smiling and grinning. The face of the boy who i grew up with. My brother, my twin, my other half.

Castor

I choke at the memory of his name. I try to get out of bed and move. I dont know where im going, i dont know what im doing. My legs wobble and i fall to the floor on my knees, my vision blurring momentarily. His face flashes behind my eyes. His lifeless face as his body went limp on the floor after he got stabbed and then hit on the head by an enemy. I couldnt help him. My arm was broken, and all i could do was lay there, staring at my brother, bleeding to his death, as he smiled at me one last time and did the little salute we always did ever since we were kids in a way of saying 'see ya later, loser' before his eyes glazed over.

I fall to my side and wrap my arms around myself, hugging myself as my body trembles. I was in denial, the whole way when another demigod helped me get to the healing camp, i was in denial. Pretending he wasnt dead, hoping so desperately that this was all just a dream, that he'd come back to me, that id wake up in my cabin and id see him laying on the bed next to mine.

I remember when his shroud burned. Purple and violet flowers, violet like his eyes, and the symbol of our father, Dionysus. I had stared, tears streaming down my face. Not bawling, not sobbing, just silently having a war with myself, and others must have seen it too. Will came to me afterwards, asking if i was okay, i hadnt answered him, he left after that. I wanted to cry, i wanted to sob and be angry, but i couldn't. I didnt know what was wrong with me, i hated myself for it.

I had gone back to my cabin. And then i had sobbed and bawled and cried till i had blacked out. I had skipped meals, and shut myself out. I thought itd get better with time. It did not. Even a snippet of our memories together makes me weak and vulnerable and want to cry.

Memories of our childhood flash behind my eyes. Two small boys, playing in the strawberry fields of Camp Half-Blood, eating strawberries, laughing and running around, their faces full of light and happiness, the sun gleaming in their golden blond hair, the light shining in their violet eyes, making them look like pieces cut from the purest of amethysts.

Two boys, arguing over what their secret handshake should be, and then eventually deciding on a two fingered salute. Stealing eachother's toys, clothes, and food, telling the worst jokes to each other but cracking up anyway, pretending to be each other and imitating personalities. Goofing around all day, pretending the world wasnt all that bad, as long as they had eachother. I used to always look for him when i woke up, checking the bed next to me to see if he was there.

And then the battle with Kronos had happened, and then one of them was gone. Now i dont even have to look at the bed next to mine when i visit Camp Half-Blood to know hes not there

My eyes land on the vertical upright mirror. I see a boy staring back at me, his face tear-streaked and his blond hair matted to his forehead, his chest moving up and down with his laboured breaths. Its him. Its me. And its all i have left.

Being alone had never bothered me. Castor didnt stay with me all the time, sometimes he left to train, or go talk with some other campers, or just going about his day in general. We were the only Dionysus kids, so we didnt really have any other siblings, so i was alone a lot. Being alone never bothered me, but being alone has never felt this lonely.

I shut my eyes, letting the sting subside. I sigh and open them again.

Im sorry

You should be

I close my eyes again and imagine him here.

I know. I am. Im sorry. I wish i could bring you back, but even if i could, i would never bring you back to this hell. All i hope for is that you can forgive me, and that you wait for me in the Elysium. We'll meet again, Cas. One day. One day, ill see you again. But till then, all i have are my wine and woes

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cr0wqui11 · 4 months

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"chansaw is my favourite ship" proceeds to write a fic with mcsawyer and jdronica

-me apparently

#chansaw #mcsawyer #jdronica #heathers #heathers musical #veronica sawyer #heathers fics #fanfiction #fanfic #The Wine is Blood Red #TWIBR

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argburlazerbeamsyou · 1 year

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fanfic writers will be like 'i didnt really like how this chapter turned out so sorry in advance" and then pull out some of the most beautiful imagery and magical reading experiences youve ever had in your life

#like #i did NOT expect for this fanfic to drop such a raw line like #'we are not drinking wine we are drinking the blood of our lord and saviour' LIKE HUH OK

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blackstaff-blast · 4 months

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It's happening. The first chapter of my Loghain/Inquisitor multichapter fic. I have so much to say about them ok.

Oh there will be fluff alright.

For registered users only, for now! We'll see where it goes :)

#loghain mac tir #loghain mac tir x inquisitor #my writing #loghain mac tir fanfic #loml #blood in the wine #dragon age inquisition fanfiction #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age fic #in my defense......enjoy #i love me a complex broken old man #so i can peel off his layers one by one. no mercy. get analyzed idiot.

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feverinfeveroutfic · 8 months

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blood & wine | chapter four of six

ao3 link

The afternoon was cold and clear as Alex and I trekked back out to the bridge together. For me, it took place about a couple of hours after lunch, but since Alex was right smack in the thick of the Holy Week, I refrained from offering him any of my pasta salad. He had zipped up his jacket and tucked his hands into his pockets, and he rested his hands against his little belly. His face was pale and the way the sun hit his skin made him look a little underfed, but he assured me that he was well, even at three in the afternoon.

“So, you got the bread?” he asked me.

“Old stale bread that's been sitting in my freezer for what feels like forever,” I told him, and I showed him the partial loaf, which I had taken out of my freezer the night before: there was all but three pieces plus the end left behind, and I hoped that would be enough for him.

“Perfect! My family usually uses unleavened bread, but this will do.”

“It's kind of interesting that you're doing this,” I admitted to him.

“Why is that?” he asked me, slightly puzzled.

“Well, because you never really spoke about religion before other than saying that you're an agnostic,” I explained.

“Oh, there are Jewish atheists out there, believe me,” he said. “And there are plenty of Jewish agnostics, too. It does sound a little contradictory, especially if it's new to you, but—trust me, it works all the time. And it can especially work on a day like the Day of Atonement.”

Then again, he never really told me what day Yom Kippur actually took place for this year. But I was going to be there with him, however.

He stood before the railing with the thawed loaf right there next to him, and right by the small slit left behind from his Swiss Army knife as well. The combination of that slit and the chill of the Diablo winds all around us was enough to make me shiver and recoil back a bit.

His black curls cascaded around his shoulder as if they were water. His shock of gray stood strong and high against the cold October sunlight. I caught a whiff of something from his neck as he tossed his hair back: something citrus combined with his usual soap and cologne.

His mom probably made something lemony for the special occasion.

He took the loaf out of the bag and broke apart the piece from the end: it crumbled apart in his hand, but he didn't seem to mind.

“What're you repenting for?” I asked him over the winds around us.

“I smoked a cigarette,” he said as he tossed the bread crumbs into the black waters below.

“You did?” I asked him.

“Yeah,” he replied as he shook his hand over the water to rid of the extraneous pieces. “Believe it or not, I actually took a few puffs from one over the summer.”

“What'd you think?”

“Terrible. It actually made me sick and I promised myself I would never do it again after that. In fact, now that I think about it...”

He took another piece of the end and crumbled it in his palm.

“I smoked a joint, too,” he continued, and he tossed the crumbs down into the river.

“And what'd you think of that?” I chuckled.

“It was a little better but it's like saying one piece of dog shit smells better than the other.” I couldn't help but laugh at that. “What else I got...” He took the second piece of bread out and broke it in half.

“I got a tattoo,” he declared, and he tossed the first half into the river.

“That's right, you did!” I proclaimed, and then I stopped. “Wait, what's wrong with that?”

“Nothing shall contaminate the skin of the body, or something, I can't remember,” he told me. “I forget the exact wording but it's forbidden.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Oh! I tried to poison someone's drink,” he said, and he chucked the next half down into the waters.

“I'm afraid to ask,” I confessed with a raise of my eyebrows.

“Yeah, you... you don't wanna know the story behind that,” he assured me.

But then again, I was a bit curious. The final two pieces of bread inside the bag had crumbled apart but he didn't seem to mind as he held the pieces with both hands.

“And... let's see... what else did I do this past year that could use some atonement...” He held a big handful of crumbs right before the railing as if he was about to let them drift down into the corner of the tailing and the floor of the bridge. He then cleared his throat and mumbled something.

I leaned in closer to him. He kept mumbling, as if he was saying a prayer. I knew he wasn't, but I moved in closer to him to figure it out.

“Hm? What'd you say?”

And then he tossed the handful into the waters down below: the crumbs drifted down like snowflakes and the waters whisked them away into the darkness below the surface.

“What was that last thing?” I asked him again.

“I ain't saying,” he quipped as he scooped up the bag from the railing before it could fall onto the path behind us.

“Why not?” I demanded.

“It's personal,” he replied with a straight face, and then his straight demeanor twisted into a pained one. He rested a hand on his stomach and bowed his head. “Oh, god... I don't know why I'm really struggling this year.”

“Because you spent all the time with me indulging in all the yummy things, that's why,” I scoffed. “Your belly's been acquainted with eating, and eating a lot no less.”

He parted his lips for a low whistle, and then he lifted his head towards the clear blue sky. He was in a lot of pain, I could tell. I remembered what he had said about the Leviathan the week before, and I wondered if that monster actually resided inside of him in a way. There was no way I could look at that and think the worst thing had happened, but then again, I knew in my heart that he couldn't eat something made of pork. There was no way he could have that.

Maybe he really did have a monster inside of him, and not in the way that I thought, either.

Maybe he was hiding something that he never got to tell me.

He then relaxed and breathed, and he turned to me.

“You had something to eat, I presume,” he said to me in a low voice.

“You know I did,” I assured him. He grimaced from the hunger within him.

Poor boy. I wished I could give him so much to eat right then. But it was part of his roots and thus, I had to respect that.

“Let's go back to my place,” I suggested. “Besides, it's gonna be dark soon.”

It was going to be dark soon, and I was a bit curious about those last two things in particular. I never really knew that Alex had it in him to spike someone's drink, but I wondered about that last thing, if he was saying a prayer or if he had done something truly that drastic that he didn't want me to hear. We were out in the open, too, so I wondered if it was sensitive enough that he didn't want passersby to hear it. I knew I wouldn't want outsiders to hear, especially if it was something they didn't fully understand, either.

But I was curious. I had a nagging feeling inside me that told me I had created a monster of sorts, especially after the speech he had given me about instincts. His parents knew sociology inside and out, so he knew what went down behind closed doors when no one was looking. And I thought of asking him about it on the walk back home, and more so once we had returned to my place. But at the same time, I never found the grains of courage to ask him. As far as I knew, it was totally confidential between him and whatever he believed in.

An agnostic boy, wedged between atheism and taking that leap of faith. Surely, he believed in something. I had known him for quite a while, and yet I still experienced these moments where I could not break through the proverbial coconut shell that surrounded him, no matter the sharpness of the machete. And that ritual on the bridge only further indicated that to me.

We took our seats on the couch: I wasn't hungry, but I could tell he was really struggling to keep it together. From the moment he woke up to the moment the sun went down.

I had to take his mind off of the pains in his body somehow.

I had no other choice, especially when it actually began to hurt me a little, seeing the look of pain on his handsome face.

“So, what was that last thing you said on the bridge?” I asked him.

“Huh?” He raised his gaze to me, taken aback.

“When you were repenting,” I explained. “The last thing you said, you sort of muttered it under your breath. What was it?”

He pursed his lips but he never took his gaze from me. If I had to blow him again just to make him tell the truth, I was going to do it. I leaned in closer to his face, and I kept one hand down on his thigh merely to suggest the idea to him. We were both touchy feely boys: we could caress each other down and have an idea as to what the other was thinking right then.

“Tell me the truth, Alex,” I insisted in a low voice. “What was the third thing you said before you tossed that final handful of bread crumbs?”

He then sighed through his nose, and he gestured for me to move in closer to his face. He brought those cherry lips up to my ear to tell it to me.

“I ate my dad's boss,” he whispered into my ear, to which I raised my eyebrows at that. He showed me his tongue, and his eyes gleamed from the thrill of it.

“You... ate your dad's boss?” I sputtered and let go of his thigh.

“Shhh!” He swatted at me, even though we were alone in the apartment and Lou and his girlfriend still weren't home yet. “How?” I demanded. “And most of all, why?”

He closed his eyes and ran his tongue along his top row of teeth.

“Okay,” he started, and then he opened his eyes again. “Like I said, I tried to poison him. It was just last night, actually, right after my parents and I came back from our thing. He called my dad and asked him to work at a late shift tomorrow, and my dad refused, and then he threatened to excuse him from his position if he didn't listen. So my dad was like 'what're you gonna do about it?' And then, the next thing we knew, he was there at our house, eating dinner with us. I tried to spike his drink when he wasn't looking, but he never drank it. So, my mom took the toaster and pelted him over the head with it, and knocked him out. And my dad was like 'you think you can fire me, you meshuggah bastard!' and he cut his throat before he could wake up. It was a modest Sukkot dinner, anyway, not enough to tithe us over to the actual day, so we feasted on him. We had a rabbi come on over to bless his corpse and everything.”

“Even though, it was—totally in—” I could hardly talk.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, it was totally out of self defense. My dad worried about losing his job, even while nearing his retirement. He hit on my mom and called me a loser, and right before my mom hit him over the head with the toaster, he made a joke that almost sounded like it was at our expense—if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. I remember she and I were in the kitchen, and she goes, 'during the Holy Week, I don't think so.' We ate his limbs first and saved his internal organs for later. The dude had heart disease, too, so we are going to have hell of a time taking his heart and lungs.”

I swallowed at that.

“Remember what I said, Eric,” he quipped. “The instinct to survive and the instinct to kill intersect from time to time. Especially when it's in the name of defending your family as well as—” He extended his arms up over his head to demonstrate the collective. “—the family.”

“So... what did you do with the rest of his corpse?” I asked, and I could feel my throat closing up from fear.

“Well, we put some sea salt on him to preserve his flesh and his internal organs—even as damaged as they were—and then we stashed him in the big freezer in our garage,” he continued in a single breath. “You know the one where we keep the briskets and the matzo dough, right by my dad's tool bench. We cleaned up the blood as best as we could, and now our whole house smells of lemons.”

“You're bluffing,” I quipped to him, and I had no idea as to why I said that, either.

“Am I? Smell me.”

He brought the back of his hand up to my nose, where I caught a whiff of—

“Lemon juice,” I whispered.

“The same. Apparently, as human flesh decomposes, the smell is near impossible to get out without the use of lemon juice or some kind of citrus. Tomatoes also help, apparently.”

“I was wondering why you smell so good,” I said. “In fact, it explains why you've been acting so—strange lately. Very pointed and primal, as if you've had a—a—”

“Taste of blood?” he filled in, to which I nodded again.

“As for the smells, I showered with lemons and tomato juice as well as my regular soap,” he said with a straight face. “It all helps to rid of the smells. It may have been out of self defense, but you know. People can still get the wrong idea.”

I swallowed again, and I swore that I was about to choke on something at the mere sound of that. I was friends with a cannibal. I had literally created a monster, and he had the smell on his skin as well as the gray streak upon his head to prove it. And then he set a hand on me, which in turn made me jump.

“But... listen to me, though,” he began again. “You cannot tell anyone. My parents and I repented, and the rabbi blessed us as well as his corpse. We don't know what to do with his internal organs next, and... for all we know, we could visitors over in the coming week as well as in the future, like for Hanukkah for example.”

“Have you thought of making meat pies?” I suggested to him in a small voice.

“Out of organs? I dunno... neither of us are that great of bakers and I worry about it tasting like—you know. Actual human flesh.”

“Not even your mom?” I quipped.

“Oh, she definitely can, but you know—I worry about things tasting, dare I say 'off.'”

I squirmed in my seat, and then I took a glimpse out the window behind us. Four o'clock in the afternoon, and the sun already began to hang even lower over the horizon at that point.

“So, uh... now that it's getting dark, you wanna eat something once the sun goes down, and then—maybe—I dunno.” I shrugged my shoulders. I was just going to shoot from the hip right then. “Fool around a bit?”

“You wanna eat and fool around a bit?” he repeated with a slight knit to his eyebrows, and I never flinched a muscle. He ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth and gave his black curls a toss back with the flick of his head. Even after he had gained and lost weight, his neck was still slender and gorgeous. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and ran the tip of his tongue along his upper lip, like the bloodthirsty seducer he was, like the dirty monster I had created.

“Oh, Eric,” he said in a low, husky voice. “You know after that incident, I would eat you alive.”

“Don't!” I sputtered.

“What?” He opened his eyes and looked on at me, baffled, and then he chuckled to himself. “'Eat you alive'.” He then let out a hearty laugh, but it only left me shook. I was drawn to him, and yet I was also mortified of what he would do to me. As a result, I didn't dare move a muscle. His eyes locked onto my own right then, and he left those sensual lips slightly parted to show me his teeth. They looked awfully clean, and in fact, I could not recall as to whether they were ever that clean before.

“I would never hurt you, Eric,” he assured me, and he brought his finger up to my neck. I held still as he traced the tip along the side, all along the spot of my jugular vein. “I would never—ever—hurt you.”

The tip reached the base of my neck, down onto my collar bone, and then he brought his hand back up to my temple. He ran his long lanky fingers through my hair, and for a second, I thought he would kiss me, these little bloody kisses left behind on my skin.

But he never did. Instead, he rested his hands upon his knees and showed me a little smile. He gave his hair another toss back, and he looked up at the clock on the wall.

“I better get going,” he told me. “My parents need me home.”

He puckered his lips at me as if to beckon a kiss, but I couldn't bring myself to it. But nevertheless, he stood to his feet and walked over to his jacket hung up on the hook next to the door. I watched him put his coat back on, and leave the apartment.

And he still never told me what he was going to make for me come Halloween, either. One thing was for certain and that was I needed to know what happened in that house, and no way could I tell Elle about it, either. For all I knew, he did have the killer in him, and he could swipe at me next if he ever found out.

I needed to go at it alone: Lou still wasn't home, and I had nothing to do for a bit. I may as well do a bit of sleuthing. And I had a feeling I was going to have to put the babka to good use as well.

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sinfulpetgirlrd · 1 year

Audio

Fandom: The Witcher

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Expect everything to be way out in left field, then take that expectation and throw it in a river. Remember, this is the witcher universe. It’s a cruel and violent world. Gore/sexual situations(con or not) will be described, strong/offensive language will be used. People will emotionally break and have their ability to “live on” tested (some might fail). What happens really just depends.

Chapters: 2/?

In the darkness, the silhouette of a thin crescent moon watched as a blackish-grey mist moved hastily across the remaining footpath. Its figure, illuminated by a shimmering silver and gold light, moved towards the mausoleum’s entrance. Its presence was still and noiseless; not even a blade of grass or leaf was disturbed as it hovered there, eavesdropping on the chatter that bounced and danced through the inner stone walls.

‘Thought you said anytime now.’

‘I did. Are you growing impatient or just bored of my company?’

‘Impatient, your company is… Fine. Mind another question?’

‘So curious, go ahead, but if it’s about…”

‘Yeah, know impolite to ask a lady what she is. Not about that, can wait. Want to know how long you’ve known Regis.

“They get along? Thank the unseen.” An unembodied voice said softly as mist reformed into bone, muscle, and teeth. Regis lifted his chin, his face turning to the star-filled sky before taking a long, slow, useless breath. Although he did not necessarily have to breathe— after spending such a long time in the company of humans— it became a source of comfort.

A way to soothe his nerves. Nerves that— before he heard them chatting, ached like a stake to the heart.

Read the full chapter on AO3(be sure to read the tags and chapter notes. Your only warning lol)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45835249/chapters/115927234

#the witcher 3 #tw3 wild hunt #Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy #geralt of rivia #oc insert #witcher crossover #fan art #blood and wine #the witcher 3 wild hunt fan fiction #alternate universe fanfic #3d render #ai audio #cloaned voice #Read on AO3 #dettlaff van der eretein

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naivesilver · 11 months

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and me your forest lass

(some over the top Eliana content I finally managed to finish because why not)

then

Out at the edge of the forest, Eliana cries quietly.

She always cries like that, ugly but not making a sound, silent tears and snot running down her face. She is used to it - the woods don't take kindly to little girls weeping loudly and making a ruckus, even girls who can be counted amongst their friends - but she doesn't like it, most times. Sometimes she wishes she could be like the pretty girls in Papa's stories, sighing at a window, a single tear streaking down their cheek.

But this is not a story, and she is not a pretty princess, so Eliana weeps into her balled fists, her small body wracked by quiet sobs.

She stills when she hears footsteps approaching, leaning backwards as she gets ready to bolt upright and away, but it's just her father drawing closer, a lantern in his hand casting light on his worried face. He almost drops it when he sees her, she notices, but then he slowly sets it down and holds his arms out towards her, slowing his pace.

"My poor girl," he says, softly. "How did you get here? It's dangerous to be out at night alone."

None of the beasts in the forest would dare touch Eliana, she knows, and she's not sure she deserves to be soothed and coddled besides, but the need is stronger than her all the same. She lets out a final, hiccupy sob, then stumbles forward and right into her father's hold, clinging to him like a lizard on a wall.

"I'm sorry, Papa," she wails, her voice finally rising in volume. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry. I didn't wanna-"

He hushes her, gently petting the back of her head. "Now, now. Don't cry, my sun. It's alright. It's not your fault."

Isn't it? Eliana isn't sure. She stopped listening after the first few minutes of explanation, once she'd stumbled woozily back home only to find both of her parents in a fine frenzy over her absence. Mother didn't yell - only Papa did, after a while, and raised his voice to try and tell the fairy to leave her daughter be - but her terse, measured words were even worse than any yelling could be, the anger plain and clear in the way her face was twitching, until Eliana ran off so she wouldn't have to look at it anymore.

"He said he was Mother's f-friend," she sniffles, rubbing at her nose with her sleeve. "That she needed my help. He said that maybe we could make a…a deal, and if I was good I'd get something nice too."

"Did he?" She feels Papa tense against her, his hand going still on her back as she nods haltingly. "What did you ask for, Eliana?"

"For more clients. For you. Nobody's been buying anything, and you were upset, and-"

"Oh, my sweet girl," he murmurs, and reaches up to take her face in his hands, his features softening in the dim light.

"I'm not mad at you, do you hear me? I know you didn't mean to do anything wrong. You've got too big a heart for this place, you always have."

Eliana sniffs noisily, unconvinced. Her throat is dry and parched, as though she hadn't drunk any water in months. "But Mother's angry. She said so. She said I put her in danger."

Her father sighs loudly, pulling her against his chest once more. "That's no fault of yours. We should have paid more attention, kept you safe. The Dark One might have hurt you, if you hadn't told him what you knew."

Maybe that would have been better. Eliana can picture being hurt, remembers gashes on her hands and knees and the deep, lingering feeling that thrums in the ground when the season to hunt deers comes, but she doesn't want to stand under Mother's piercing glare ever again. If it happens, she thinks she'll dig a burrow into the side of the hill and hide in there, letting moss and vines grow into her hair.

But maybe even the vines would turn on her, now. Mother says that there were secrets among what she told Rumpelstiltskin, things that an enemy of the fairies should have never heard, but Eliana didn't know what they were then, and she still doesn't know now. She just talked about Mother's visits and Nova's sugary treats and the paths that only open up for her when she's playing with Red, prattling on until he told her she'd make her father a rich man yet, shaking her hand as though she were a grown woman.

The forest only speaks to her because her mother's a fairy. What if something happens to the fairies, now that she's messed up, and everything goes dead and silent forever? What about all her playmates, and the river, and the dryads that sang a sundew into life on her birthday?

She's still hiccuping a bit under her breath, unable to shake the weight of those worries off her back. Papa hums soothingly in her ear, then gathers her up and settles her on his hip, even though she might be a little too big for that now, and bends down awkwardly to get the lantern with his free hand.

"Come, now. Me and Jiminy have a story to tell you- maybe we could have avoided all this mess, if we'd told it a bit sooner."

now

Eliana can hear Pongo's barks grow louder, somewhere behind her.

That means he must be getting close. She's not surprised, in truth: she's been rushing through Storybrooke's woods as fast as she could for a while now, but she is no match for a dog's speed - her brother's always been a better runner than her, even as a child, even when she would hitch her skirt up and take shortcuts she hadn't taught him yet. She never really hoped to win this race, and there's no telling what kind of perks the De Vil woman's magic might have given poor Pongo, besides.

She considers doubling back towards the town, to confuse them both, but it'd be a fruitless trick. She'd lose the advantage right after gaining it, and here, at least, she has the higher ground. Very few people know the forest as well as she does, and they're all locals, anyway, not fur-coated foreigners.

Eliana stops, panting heavily. The air around her is thick with humidity, unbearably hot on her skin, and yet she doesn't move a muscle, counting heartbeats while she waits for her chasers to catch up with her.

She can sense August more than she did before diving into the trees. She's always fancied she'd be able to track him down even from miles away, and she probably could, on a normal day, but now his trace is muddled by others, stranger and stronger, one cloying and wet, the other scorching hot at the edge of her mind.

Eliana doesn't deign to acknowledge the third presence she can feel surrounding her brother, somewhere deeper in the forest. It'll only serve to infuriate her more, at present, and she needs all her wits to herself today - already they seem to be escaping her, like trying to hold water in her hands, and she can't afford it. She can't.

She can recognize Pongo's energy just fine, though, which is why she turns around long before she hears him in the grass around her, watching him draw to a halt not a dozen feet away. He's panting with exertion, his sides heaving and his tongue lolling out, but there's no trace of the silly dog she so loves in his eyes, only empty dullness, like a lifeless puppet under Miss De Vil's control.

That makes two of them, then. They're using Pongo as a weapon, but they got her brother, too. Gold got her brother, and that makes anger flare red-hot in Eliana's chest, an anger that whispers in her ear and calls for burning and scratching and maiming - it makes her wish she had fangs, that anger, fangs and claws and wings, so she could show them all they can't chain down every beast they encounter.

"Get her," an actual, more concrete voice drawls, and then Cruella De Vil steps into the clearing, following right behind Pongo at a leisure pace. She hasn't given up on her luxurious furs yet, despite all the leaves and debris they must have swept off the forest floor.

Eliana, by contrast, feels almost naked, shoeless and coatless, her mud-streaked dress stopping a little below the knee, but it's okay. Her mother would despair of her, as usual, but at least she's at ease to act as she pleases, this way. At least the arm she raises to stop the dog in his tracks has freedom of movement, bare and sun-tanned, sticking out like a sore thumb against the deep greenwood. "It's okay, Pongo. She can't do anything to you. Come here, baby."

Pongo seems to hesitate, stuck in the middle of an aborted movement, but then he shakes himself off, the haze disappearing from his eyes. He barely spares the older woman a glance as he trots over to Eliana, head bowed low and tail wagging guiltily.

"Good boy," she murmurs, patting his head without taking her eyes off her opponent. "I'm not mad, baby. You did good."

There is a flicker of unease in Cruella's gaze, but she dissimulates it pretty quickly, smiling indulgently at Eliana. "I must say, I'm impressed, darling. It's not every day someone takes the leash of any mutt out of my hands. And here I thought this town was so dreadfully boring."

"It is. But it's my town, and Pongo is family. I don't have any magic, but you'd be amazed at what I can do for my family."

"Yes, I had guessed." The curve of Cruella's painted lips becomes mischievous, almost peevish. "It's a shame you weren't there to rein your brother in, too. Don't worry, he's all in one piece- at least, he was when last I saw him."

Outrage rises up Eliana's throat, acrid and cloying, and she has to force herself to swallow it before she screams. How dare she, the fury from before whispers in her ear, still low, still tantalizing. How dare she speak of August like that. She has no right.

"What do all of you want from him, exactly?" She says instead, as controlled as she can muster. "Will Gold come say hi to me next, since he came all the way back here just for the lot of us?"

"You wish, darling. You're not that important, I'm afraid, and neither is that little puppet man you call brother. This is not about you children, or your games."

The problem, Eliana muses, is that in a different world she probably would have been a more tender girl. She has plied herself into the loving daughter, the sweet sister, the friend and the worker and the patient, resilient child that asks for nothing, over and over again. She has done it so often she wagers she would have been able to mould herself into something perfectly pleasant, had she been allowed to live a peaceful life.

This is not a different world. She was pushed and pulled between sides since the day she came out of the womb, not normal, not magical, just something anomalous hovering in between. Her brother was gone for thirty years, and now the Dark One has taken him again, just like he took her mother's trust in her all those decades earlier. That'll rip the tenderness out of anyone, and she had little to spare to begin with, unfortunately.

So when she speaks again, there is an edge to her voice that borders on dangerous, strident like nails on a chalkboard, and it will not. Let. Go. Of her. "Are you going to tell me where August is, Miss De Vil? Or do I have to go get him myself?"

The woman waves her off, with a dismissiveness that's only a little stiff. "I'd love to see you try, little girl. But I'm getting tired of your babbling, and I need to find Regina's boy that you chased away earlier, so…puppy? Take her down."

Pongo straightens up, a wink of his previous haziness return, but by then Eliana is already moving. The earth is thrumming under her feet, and the voice screams and howls in her ears, and before she knows it she's pounced, barrelling straight into Cruella's chest and prompting her to fall back, furs and all.

"Wrong answer," the girl says, and a part of her, the part that still only wants to find her brother and rescue him, is surprised to hear a hint of delight in those words. She sounds giddy, almost, entertained by the fear warping her victim's previously smug expression.

That is wrong, Eliana thinks, but even that thought is soon drowned by all the rest, the anger and the resentment and the sheer wildness of the whole ordeal. The forest sings for her, like it did when August was on his self imposed exile, or the day she summoned it during the Spell of Shattered Sight, when it answered her call and not her mother's. It sings and screams and tells her we can't let her go unpunished we can't we can't it is up to you child she hurt your brother she will pay, and no matter how hard she fights against that suggestion, it worms its way into her bones relentlessly, like a sneaky disease.

And so Eliana's grin widens, until it hardly looks like hers anymore, and then she bends closer to a flailing Cruella and bites.

#oc: eliana #au: appalachian wine #ouat #fanfic #BLOOD AND VIOLENCE AND BLOOD AND VIOLENCE #AND dad. that is also a thing that happens #crying I was scrolling down my eliana tag rereading the story snippets #and it's what prompted me to open this google doc again! and realize it was almost done and I could POWER THROUGH since I was in the mood!#but one of the tags on a post was like........'obviously the s4 kidnapping plot doesn't happen here'#and it SENT me I was so hopeful and optimistic for this girl at the beginning ahdkjshjkagfjgajgfjk #sorry lia I kinda ruined your life as I went #august had a lil taste of having less angst and then I changed my mind too #but ¯\ (ツ) /¯

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fairyofthefriz · 2 years

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For Blood and Wine are Red Update!

Chapter Six: Lord Renly Baratheon

Arya hates politics, and being sneaky - but she loves learning new things about people Robb's little brothers are mad, and likely will be the death of him... Sansa is a slow learner, it's true - but, she learns.

ao3 ko-fi YouTube tiktok

#friz writes #for blood and wine are red #got fic #got fanfic #got fanfiction #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfic #game of thrones fanfiction #sansa stark #arya stark #robb stark #wylla manderly #rickon stark

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heartfullofleeches · 2 months

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Titus [Space Emperor Yan] and Executioner Deity Reader-

Whereas the og Executioner Reader is an axe for hire, this Executioner wants nothing more than the emperor's head on a spike. They've dealt with many of his kind before- Lawless tyrant, unruly beast. His crimes have gone unpunished long enough - They are the judge, jury, and executioner fated to give him his sentence and punishment. They have heard the pleas of those in his captivity who are aware of their legend and the only power capable of stopping them from taking the emperor's head is their forgiveness.

Titus has heard of the executioner in passing. He's lost a fair amount of... acquaintances to that old fairytale. He doesn't believe a word of it - deciding that it was some servant gone berserk who terminated his allies in such a brutal fashion. Sure, it is bizarre that they seemed to have been killed with the exact same blade, but Titus is certain fabled savior is nothing his guards can't handle themselves.

"Your Majesty, we have reports of a cloaked individual breaking into the easy wing of the castle. Several guards have already been dispatched, more have been sent to collect their bodies. Thankfully, they are only unconscious, but it is no longer safe for you here-"

"Tyrant....."

A hushed slithers down the walls - hoarse and raw like the throat of a parched soul without a lick of water to satiate their thirst. The Executioner staggers into view - weight elevated by their tool of trade.

"Tyrant.... For the crimes you have committed there is no salvation beyond your immediate execution. Pay for the blood you have spilled with your own. Lay down your own head as atonement for yours sins."

The remainder of Titus guard form a wall of defense around their king. The Executioner's teeth clench in rage. All while the emperor stares on at his adversary. Those muscles, toned from the heavy swing of their blade. That unwavering, cold stare. Had he been a lesser man that glare alone would have shot his still beating heart. Instead, it only increased the steady hammering of that feeble organ against the cage of his chest.

"I....must have them."

Titus tries shoveling past his guards. The less experience members assume their king to be taking first action. Those who know the tyrant for what he truly is can see the pure enlightened in his eyes.

"Executioner.... Is that what I may call you? Your title matters not to me so long as you are mine. Allow me to take you in my arms.... Surely a life such as yours has had scarce room for the touch of another. Allow me to free you of that burden.

The Executioner spits.

"Mock me as you will. I will grant you three nights for you to give yourself to me willing. For each night I shall return to you with the same question. Should you agree, you will face a swift death, unlike those you have associated yourself with in the past. Do not disappoint me."

Three nights. That's more than enough time for Titus to get them to come around. Then again, he'd love to see what torments they have in store for him. If they see to wrap that chain latched at their around his throat all they had to do was ask. He's just received a shipment of his favorite wine as well - what impeccable timing for love to bloom in the air.

Tangerine [Executioner Maid] is hiding in the vents speedrunning a 150k enemies to lover fanfic of her boss and his new obsession-

#Titus my oc #yandere emperor #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere alien #yandere drabble

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f1fnatic · 8 months

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LIAR ⤿ c. sainz 55

→ ( in which. . . ) you and carlos have been dating for three years. carlos started to grow distant. after charles shows you a picture of his infidelity, you catch him in the act after a day at work.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) written

→ ( pairing. . . ) cheater!carlos sainz x longtime!girlfriend!reader

→ (content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) mentions of sex, language, yelling, cheating, alcohol consumption, angst

→ ( author's note. . . ) this was my first time writing angst/cheating. it was fun experimenting with this type of writing. i hope you enjoy! see end for more.

→ ( masterlist )

"you fucking liar!" echoed through the otherwise quiet apartment. hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway, another pair following the first close behind. was this what everything came to? walking out on your supposed soulmate after years together? how did you get here? and what did you do to deserve this?

one week prior ↴

you had noticed the distance growing. carlos was becoming closed off and almost secretive. he didn't confide in you as much as he used to. you didn't think twice about it and assumed it was something to do with work. ferrari had been going through a rough patch, both him and charles struggling to start or finish a race for the past three weeks.

you understood how stressful being a driver was. you had been around formula 1 for a while now, because of him. you and carlos met when he drove for redbull, in 2015. the two of you started dating shortly after in 2017.

you were always there for him, through thick and thin. through the blood, sweat, and tears. after every win, podium, loss, dnf, dns, etc. you understood how hard it was for him to perform well but not get the results wanted.

so, when you received a picture of carlos with another woman, a blond, on his lap, hands on his shoulders and lips touching, you were livid. charles had sent it to you, with a simple caption that read "i am sorry." it was the after-party of a not-so-successful qatar grand prix.

rage, confusion, sadness, and disgust coursed through your veins. the thought of him finding comfort in a woman who wasn't you made you sick. your hands shook, eyes blurred, and breath quickened.

you could not believe that carlos would ever cheat, especially on you. you had given him everything. love, attention, comfort, and compassion. and this is what he gave you in return? you had sacrificed so much to make him happy. you felt useless. had you thrown away six years of your life just to get cheated on? did he feel guilty? did he regret his choice to kiss a random girl? thoughts sped through your mind.

what did you do until he got home? your apartment no longer felt like a home. it felt gross and unnatural to be in there. to think that the person you shared it with was sharing a different room across the world. did he share your bed with someone else as well? the pictures of the two of you that hung on the wall seemed to mock you.

every passing minute became more and more painful. could you act like everything was fine when he eventually did get home? or would you lose it immediately the second he walked in through the front door?

unfortunately, you knew that only time would tell.

present day ↴

today was the day that carlos got home. you were at work, trying to distract yourself from the inevitable conflict about to occur. you reached the front door of your shared apartment. shaking hands held the key and you placed it in the lock and turned it. pushing open the door, the apartment was quiet, suspiciously quiet.

you noticed that the kitchen was a mess. plates and cooking utensils were in the sink, dirty and waiting to be washed. two wine glasses left discarded on the quartz bar. a bottle of red cabernet left opened and almost empty. one of the glasses had lipstick stains littered around the rim.

your heartbeat quickened. adrenaline began to pump through your body. you quickly toed off your shoes, and your feet ached after a long day. you also discarded your purse and jacket, making your way to your and carlos' bedroom.

as you got closer, you heard moaning. your heart dropped to your stomach. you opened the door as soon as you reached it. low and behold, it was carlos and the same blond from the picture that charles sent you. the blond was on top of carlos, head back and mouth open in euphoria. carlos had the same expression as her on his face.

tears immediately welled in your eyes and quickly fell. you felt defeated. it was one thing to see a picture of your boyfriend kissing another girl, but to catch him with that same girl in the bed that you shared, in the same bed that he fucked you in, was different.

finally, carlos opened his eyes and noticed you in the doorway. his hands found the blond's hips to stop her from moving. his eyes widened with guilt and surprise; mouth wide open in shock.

"y-y/n?!" he shouted. the blond turned to look at you and god, she was pretty. you partially understood why he did it. she covered herself with one of the loose sheets and unstrattled carlos, allowing him to get up.

"y/n, i can explain-" he starts.

"explain what, carlos?!" you shout, cutting him off. "how on earth can you explain me walking in on you fucking another girl in our bed?!"

"it was a simple mistake, mi amor, that's all." he tried to reason, smiling meekly. the nickname that once held so much love now held nothing. the name that made butterflies flutter in your stomach now made them sink.

"you fucking liar!" you screamed. "this was on purpose!" it echoed through the now quiet apartment. you turned your back on the pair and walked away. your hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway, carlos' pair following yours closely behind.

"y/n, stop!" he yelled, grabbing your wrist and turning you around to face him.

"do not fucking touch me!" you say, yanking your wrist from his grip. the complete and utter audacity he had to try to attempt to explain why he cheated. "was i not enough for you? did i do something wrong? did i not fuck you the right way? did i not get you off fast enough? huh, carlos? what made you decide to throw away six years together huh? six fucking years!"

carlos stares at you, his brown eyes that you thought were breathtaking were now filling you with disdain. "tell me carlos!"

"i-i don't know why," he stutters, turning his gaze to the floor, taking a sudden interest in the hardwood paneling. "you were enough, you still are enough. please y/n, we can move past this. i was drunk and stupid, my judgement was clouded." he tries to reason, reaching to grab both of your hands.

"no, stop it. no amount of time can get me to forgive you for this. i will never forgive you, carlos." you said his name with such disgust that he flinched. "charles showed me a picture of you kissing her in qatar in a bar during an after-party. i have known for a week. but to think that you would take her into our home and fuck her?"

"wait, wait, wait. charles texted you?" carlos questioned. there was anger present in his voice. "why the fuck did he text you?" it seemed that he was upset at the fact that charles told you he cheated.

i scoff, crossing my arms. "unbelievable, you are unbelievable. you cheated on me and you are caught up on the fact that your teammate texted me proof? how much of an egotistical cunt do you have to be?"

"me? i'm the unbelievable one? you're the one walking out on me because of a stupid, drunken mistake." he says nonchalantly, glossing over the insult. it's almost like he didn't care that your relationship was ending.

"fuck you, carlos. i am done. we are done. do not call me, do not try to find me to convince me to come back to you." the tears were flowing vigorously down your cheeks. you knew your makeup was running, but you didn't care. "i am fucking done. thanks for nothing. i hope have fun fucking that slut and that you are happy with the choice you made." you finish, walking away through the home that once brought you so much joy to be in.

you gathered your things. purse, shoes, phone, coat, and keys. you would get everything else later. you opened the door and then slammed it once stepping outside. it was then when every emotion hit you at once. violent sobs wracked your body making you shake. you slid down the door hugging yourself. you could not believe it. you don't know if you ever would.

after eventually calming down, you decide to call the one person who made you aware of this whole situation. you clicked on his contact's name and then the call button. you placed your phone on your ear to hear two rings before he picked up.

"hello? y/n? why are you calling." asked the voice.

"charles," you pause. the question of 'was this a good idea?' ran through your head. but, at this point you didn't care. carlos and what he thought was the least of your worries. "i need you to pick me up."

low key happy with this one, wrote it last night and like where it went. i think i might turn it into a charles x reader :P let me know in the comments if you want that :) thank you for reading! as usual, feedback and requests are welcome; make sure to leave a comment and kudos! (only if you want :P)

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scaranation · 1 year

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hi hi !! could you write an ANGST with Dottore and Zhongli where we break up with them? maybe in dottore we break up because we can't bear(?) his experiments anymore and in Zhongli one we feel not enough/that he loves someone else (maybe Guizhong?)

Gn reader or Fem!reader(if u write for fem. sorry if u do not,i couldnt find rules and im really really sorry ! :( ... )

p.s will there be To love another 3rd part? it's my fav fanfic ever !!

love your work ♡♡

hihihi i know this is like super late but this prompt is literally so good 😭 also im thinking of writing another part to that fic, but i just dont know where to take it so ive been procrastinating haha

dottore’s part is kinda ooc bcs let’s be real if he’s that whipped for reader he wouldn’t let them break up with him, but im going to pretend that he’s not as much of a red flag as he actually is 🤭🤭

༊*·˚ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐅𝐅

Pairing: Dottore x GN!reader, Zhongli x GN!reader (separate)

Content: Angst, no comfort. Mentions of canon typical violence, assumed past Guizhong x Zhongli

DOTTORE

“It seems my beloved has finally thought to visit me.”

You cringed from the overpowering metallic scent as you stepped into your boyfriend’s laboratory, trying hard not to look at the borderline gruesome sights on the clinical beds.

Dottore cleaned the blood off a bone saw he was holding, setting the instrument down carefully before walking towards you - eyes lit up, but holding a gleam different to the maniacal one he usually possessed.

“How was your day, my love?” His voice was humorous. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming lightly while opening the door for you.

“It was fine.” You sighed as you felt the weight of Dottore’s harbinger coat settle across your shoulders, registering the touch of his hand as he pulled you into him and away from the Snezhnayan cold.

“Has that coworker of yours still been bothering you?”

“… Don’t try pretending.”

“Whatever could you be talking about?” The Doctor’s grip on you tightened.

“I wouldn’t wish death on anyone, even if they annoyed me to that extent.” You sighed, finally tilting your head to stare into the planes of your lover’s mask.

“Oh, they’re not dead. Rather, they’ve been subject to some biological modifications of an experimental kind - would you like to see?”

You gritted your teeth.

“I’m hungry, don’t make me lose my appetite.”

“Good thing I have a nice place booked for dinner, my love.”

His compliance was almost uncanny.

Normal couples gazed affectionately into each other’s eyes over meat and wine, fingers fondly interlaced over the dining table. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to return Dottore’s adoring scarlet gaze, and his hold on your hand felt more like a death trap.

“Is the food to your liking?” He asked. He hadn’t touched any of the vegetables on his plate, only biting into the steak.

“Yes. You should eat greens, too.” You commented.

“Mm. Why don’t you feed me, then?” Dottore only tilted his head, smiling eagerly. Recently, a fear of you being turned into one of the harbinger’s countless experiments had taken hold, and it was this same fear that drove you to play right how he wanted. And so, lifting your fork, you fed him with all the patience you could muster - staring into those deep red eyes, feeling like nothing more than prey. Those eyes would’ve been the last thing many others had seen before their death, the end of their lives marked by that sadistic grin. You almost shuddered at the thought.

Normal couples slept under starry nights reflected in their star crossed hearts as they cuddled close under soft sheets. Normality was such a strange concept, you decided. Despite the fact that you were doing just what normal couples should, the situation was still absurd. However, your fear of becoming another one of the harbinger’s lab rats wasn’t unfounded. You mulled over this fact, almost snorting at the juxtaposition. Here you were - wondering if the man who cradled you in his arms would strap you down to a table in the name of research.

“My love, are you still awake?” You felt Dottore’s breath ghost over your neck, his face pressing into your nape. With a rustle, he readjusted the blanket over your shoulders.

“Yeah, I can’t sleep.”

“Nightmares, perhaps? I have a pill you can use for those.”

“No, just… thinking.” You squirmed in Dottore’s hold. His comment only reignited your spiralling train of thought, pushing you further to the point of resolve.

If he could kill his clones - literal versions of himself - then what would stop him from doing the same to you? Even if you remained alive, would you have to continue to tolerate being exposed to such grotesque horrors?

It was simply better to break things off, before you no longer had the option to.

Breakfast.

The first meal of the day, and the last meal you’d share with your boyfriend.

“Dottore.”

“Yes?” The Doctor’s head jerked up immediately from where he was chewing. You could feel the undivided weight of all his attention sinking into you, and for a moment, you faltered. He was notorious for paying little mind to anyone else, and yet, he treated you with the utmost attentiveness. You steeled your resolve.

“I think… we should break up.”

Silence. Then, the grating scrape of cutlery against crockery.

“Why.”

Not a question, more of a demand. You gulped.

“Do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Yes. Is it something I did?”

“I can’t bear your experiments anymore, Dottore. They’ve gone too far, and I don’t think I can stomach living normally with you as if I don’t know the kind of things you do. Even worse, every day I’m wary that I might be your next test subject - whenever I walk into your lab, I wonder when I’ll be the one under your needles. It’s exhausting.”

Another beat of silence. You could see Dottore’s chest rising and falling at an increasingly fast pace, his jaw tensing.

“I would never, ever do that to you. It’s ridiculous that you’d even think that, and as for your prior reason… I can arrange for you to come to the lab less often…”

“So you’re just going to cover my eyes and act like you’re not doing anything with those experiments? I just can’t be ignorant here, nor can I trust you. If you can get rid of your clones so easily, then what am I? What value do I hold-“

“Those creations do not even compare to you.” Dottore finally snapped, slamming his hand down on the table. You flinched, and he felt as though his lung capacity had been halved. His head spun in tandem with the rapid tightening of his heart, his mouth twisting into a scowl.

It hurt Dottore, realising that you didn’t trust him. That all those fond, intimate memories together were just you acting out of fear - or at least, the most recent ones were. It hurt, beyond anything Dottore thought he could inflict on his patients. And even worse, you were frightened of him. The light shaking of your shoulders and the way you flinched were enough indication.

The Doctor enjoyed seeing his victims become terrified, but that same terror on you almost made him feel like he’d been the one stabbed with a scalpel. Foolishly, he’d fallen victim to his own maniacal research tendencies.

“Listen, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just meant to say… that you can trust me.” Dottore raised his hand towards you to cup your cheek, wincing when you avoided the action.

“I tried to, I really did. But I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

“My love, please.”

The second harbinger was begging. What a strange sight.

“Let me go, Dottore.” You murmured shakily. You saw hesitation, hurt, and anger flit through those vermilion eyes you’d used to love. But that love you held for him had only smouldered into disgust and fear.

“… Then go. Get out of my sight.” Dottore hissed, his teeth clenching at the wary expression on your face.

It was painful, how you walked out without a second glance.

“My love…” Dottore whispered. He stared at the closed door, almost expecting you to return. He repeated the phrase, over and over to himself - his face contorting into an expression he himself couldn’t name. Was there truly an emotion as human as this? It was a twisted, unimaginable feeling the Doctor couldn’t categorise. The syllables came off his quivering lips, as though by uttering them he could make you come back.

But the truth was, your not-so-normal relationship was over. Perhaps, Dottore would return to the normality of his heartless experiments, and you’d return to the normality of a better fate than one you’d endure by his side.

He only regretted not being able to hold you more.

ZHONGLI

There were only two letters between you and your lover, but those two letters seemed to stretch wider every day - ‘I’, and ‘M’. The seemingly infinite synapse between mere ‘mortal’, and ‘immortal’.

Zhongli was undeniably a mortal vessel, but he as a being was not. He’d lived eons before you, loved and hated thousands. He’d experienced things you couldn’t even fathom, and yet, you couldn’t comprehend how he treated you as though your fleeting existence was the centre of his much larger world.

Whenever you looked into Zhongli’s amber eyes, heard his deep laugh, or felt his gentle caress, you could only feel insignificant. After all, he used to be a literal god. You couldn’t help the guilt that gnawed at your conscience, couldn’t stamp out the incessant feeling that he was too good for you, that you couldn’t compare to whatever lovers he’d had in the past.

“How’s the tea, darling?” Zhongli prompted. He sat with his back to the window, basking in an almost ethereal glow.

“Ah, I have yet to try it.” You shook yourself out of your thoughts to raise the cup in front of you. Zhongli only smiled warmly, but the gesture made your hand shake a little. You’d planned to break up with him today, and yet the way he still stared lovingly at you - full of infinite trust - made you feel terrible.

But how many others had he also treated this way? In his life, those others were probably far more special than you, possessing talents far more worthy of a god’s attention.

Suddenly, a shattering sound pierced your ears, and a scalding warmth set into your thigh. You looked down in a daze, before snapping out of it upon realising that you’d dropped the teacup.

“Are you okay?” Zhongli was at your side in an instant, mopping up the spilled tea and collecting the broken fragments of the cup.

“Yeah.” You gritted your teeth again. How dare someone as insignificant as you make Rex Lapis get down on his knees to clean the mess you’d made. It simply made you feel as though you didn’t deserve such a wonderful man at all.

“You’ve been distracted lately. Is there anything I should know about?” Zhongli asked slowly.

“No. Well, yes.” You stammered. You hadn’t planned this out very well, and your heart squeezed tighter.

“Go ahead. You know you can tell me anything, darling.”

A warm hand came to rest against your cheek. You closed your eyes, feeling tears build and slip down your face.

Zhongli wiped at your tears, holding your hands in your lap as he looked up at you worriedly - his thumbs tracing comforting circles on your knuckles. He thought of saying something, before deciding against it. He knew it was better to let you speak first.

“Let’s break up.” You blurted, feeling Zhongli’s fingers come to a complete stop.

“We can work through this, tell me why first. Has something been upsetting you?”

Your tears fell harder. He still showed you so much kindness, never jumping to any conclusions.

“I feel like I don’t deserve you. You’re too good for me, it makes me feel guilty that someone like me can have you.” You sobbed.

“Darling, you know it makes me happy to just spend time with you. That in itself is fair exchange, no?”

“But what makes that so special? You’ve lived for so long, you could’ve done this with anyone else, and you probably have. Who am I in comparison to someone like Guizhong?”

Through your blurred vision, you could still see Zhongli’s form kneeled by your side. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

“You and her are both special, in your own way. Why don’t you calm down a little first? I can pour you some more tea.”

“I’m so selfish, Zhongli. I really don’t think I can stay with you.”

“Do you really want to leave that badly?”

Your heart twisted. You didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay in his warm embrace, his soft understanding gaze. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“… Yes.”

“Very well then. You know I won’t stop you, because I just want what’s best for you.”

The light grip on your hands released, and as you stood up everything seemed to spin.

“Thank you… for everything.” You murmured, stealing one last glance at the man you loved - before leaving.

Zhongli remained where he was for some time. In his life, many things came to an end, but this hurt a little more. When Guizhong had left him, it was due to her passing - the youthful Rex Lapis had found someone to blame, to ventilate his grief. But the most crude fact in this situation was that you were still alive, and had chosen to leave him of your own volition. Zhongli himself had made this happen.

However, an archon’s most prized trait was impartiality. Therefore, Zhongli knew that he had to maintain indifference. He refused to let himself chase after you, or force you into anything. It was only unfair, if an immortal were to impose such a fate onto a mortal.

And so, he could only watch as you faded from his life, like the cyclic ebb of waves on an ocean shore.

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cr0wqui11 · 4 months

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I'm writing the fic rn and I keep writing that JD leans against things

#heathers #heathers fics #heathers musical #JD #jason dean #heathers fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #The Wine is Blood Red #TWIBR

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peachyogurtwithchocolate · 24 days

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Harvey SDV Headcannons

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A/N: Hey there!! Im very new to actually writing on Tumblr so i just wanted to give a little warning.

I absolutely love it when people reblog my stuff so feel free to! All I ask is that you don't claim my stuff as your own.

And obviously as with all fanfics, these are just my opinions!

Word Count: (idk, I was too lazy to check)

Warnings: None!

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Before Dating (Friends)

I feel like Harvey doesn't communicate super well with friends. Obviously I know that he can only have so many lines in the game but even when he does speak to the farmer, its ALWAYS about work.

Lets face it: Harvey definetly isnt the bravest. But when he doesnt see you a couple of hours after you say youre going into the caves, there he goes, up into the mountains past Robin's house.

When Harvey finds you passed out in the mines, he freaks out internally. He tries to keep himself composed but you can tell by his sweaty palms and flustered appearance.

Harvey is very adamant about you having regular check-ups (and everyone else in Pelican Town, of course). Like this man will not leave you alone until he does the basics, such as taking your blood pressure and hearing for an irregular heart pattern.

Harvey is very awkward when it comes to gift giving. If he were to get the farmer as a secret friend at the Feast of the Winter Star, he would freak out.

After literal HOURS of searching through Pelican Town, I feel like he would settle on something simple like a wine, candle, or soft blanket.

If the farmer were to give him a gift at the Feast of the Winter Star that he LOVES, he woulf absolutely melt. He thinks its so emdearing to have a friend in Pelican Town that genuinely took the time to listen to him and pick out the perfect gift

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Falling in Love/Dating

While on the topic of the Feast of the Winter Star, I think that a gesture such as you giving him his favorite gift would make him realize that there was something between you

When he realized that he was falling in love, he distanced himself slightly. Harvey is totally the type of person who would never really think about the idea of love until he was faced with it. He probably had no idea what to do and just chose to ignore it for a while.

Harvey doesnt have the heart to just ghost the farmer, however, so eventually it comes to the point where every hangout just gets a little uncomfortable and awkward.

Once Harvey worked up the guts (yes that was a Dr. joke), he would ask the farmer out. It would start as a normal hangout, walking past the fountain near the community center. After a while, he wohkf convince you to take a walk up past the mountain and near the train station. A bouquet of flowers had been waiting for you at the end of the walk. Once Harvey had gotten over his anxiety, he would confess to you in a small speech that he had memorized. As soon as you said yes, he was a blushing mess.

If the famer got around to asking him first, however, Harvey would almost be embarrassed in a way if that makes sense. Deep down he knew that he didnt have the confidence to ask you out, but he still feels a little awkward about it.

After a short and sweet "yes" from him, you too were literally inseperable. Like I'm talking holding hands no matter what and sharing small pecks on the cheeks when nobody is looking.

Overall, falling in love with Harvey is a very sweet and wholesome experience filled with many awkward moments along the way.

#harvey x reader #harvey stardew valley #sdv harvey #stardew harvey #fanfic #sdv farmer #sdv #stardew valley #stardew valley x farmer #stardew valley x reader #stardew farmer #stardew

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edajcheel · 5 months

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Yandere! Overlord! Leech Brothers take in Villainess! MC after she's been discarded by her family

(TAGS: yandere, manipulation, poison, 18th century, cheating, MC is kinda detached, mentions of blood, the leech twins are lowkey mean, Floyd is obsessed with you and Jade is entertained by you. But both love you dearly!)

(A/N) : been very occupied with college.. But on another note, hopefully my fanfic writing hasn't become dusty!

Imagine this,

The notorious wild hound of the Night Raven Empire. A very well known nickname, throughout the capital and underground, and even in the battlefield. An arrogant, ruthless, and fickle young woman. Anything that slights her ends up getting crushed in her grasp, torn apart and disposed.

Nothing could be unseen with her hawk-like eyes. Perceptive, and sharp.

One would never talk about her greed, an immense inability to let something go when shes shown interest in whatever it is. The result of having a diamond spoon shoved into your mouth after your born. The word, 'wild' describes it all, a stubborn wild hound, that has the capability of pulling the strings behind the curtain to get what she desires.

But just like a wild hound, she can't walk away from the urge to throw, shatter, and break whenever she's outplayed. The teacup that she treasured in her heart was left broken into meager pieces of glass, and the potted flowers that sat beside her bed was thrown across the room. The shattering and tearing upon the middle of her heart was as harmful as poison.

Ironic how the only word she can describe the ache- was 'poison'. The infuriating noise click, clack, and click of heels plays over and over like a broken record in your mind. The stunning light grey of the moon, somehow was brighter that night, gleamed on the forbidden lovers– twirling around on the terrace. So distracted by each other's company, they've yet to notice the girl– you –who was the main audience.

The scene distorted in your mind, and another scene was presented. Your eyes are casted upon the lowly girl on the ground– with her strings snapped. Blood crawling down the corner of her mouth– a result from the poison –and her barely alive eyes looking at you. The glass of red wine was but in mere pieces of shards on the ground, and the blood-like wine spilled. Your arrogant eyes look at her– blaming her– this happened because of your own actions.

"This was your plan all along-..!" The silvery and smooth voice of your fiancée was unrecognizable from all the heavy breathing of panic he was enduring. "Was it not obvious to your keen eyes?" You quirked your brow at him.

His light-grey eyes that you loved, never looked at you even at this moment, busy holding his other companion in his arms. You gritted your teeth, and clenched your fist in pure rage. The realization hit you instantly, his sincereness and gentleness was never real– at least never towards you. The tea both of you shared, the times both of you would unite hands at the entry way of multiple balls, the longing letters– nothing was real. It was just an illusion.

Like a tool, used and discarded.

Like a villainess, just an obstacle to their story.

Like an unfortunate soul, never truly wanted.

Like a criminal, awaiting to be beheaded.

The wild hound sat on her bed, the only thing neat in her trashed room. The portrait of you and Azul were scratched, but the most damage was upon Azul's face. The teacup set– given by Azul –was on the ground replicating the broken wine glass on the terrance. The Hydrangea flowers– given by Azul –was on the other side of your room, ridden of its petals. Chairs, couched, and tables were flipped over. Anything you could have taken hold of, was trashed beyond repair.

"Of all things, you decided to poison that lowly baron girl?" Your dad grumbled under his breath, disappointed. "Whatever penalty you receive, do not drag me or your mother along with your foolish mess." He concludes and finally turns away from your back, slamming your doorway shut.

Over and over, hundreds to thousands, you couldn't count how many times you've caused uproar around the capital. Your irritation at the shopkeeper who didn't satisfy your standards was a victim to your anger, and so was the maids who had the nerve to act clumsy in your presence. Not even the butler was spared from your wrath. But the public had never paid a mind to you, always chalking it up as the wild hound being the same as ever. How very humourous.

Not even your parents paid a mind, no, they couldn't careless. They were already so used to your antics. They'd rather pay attention to your high intelligence, and your accomplishments rather than you in general. Of course, with a society always looking for fresh and new inventions and evolutions– it's a must to be smart so as to guarantee you won't fall behind.

But under unfortunate circumstances, you've finally arrived at your ending line. You've pulled the last straw, and now you'll reap what you sowed. You've done something so unforgivable that your parents have also given up on someone like you.

You've exhausted all your worth, and soon, your life will be taken away from your hands too. Truly, nothing to hold onto in this wrench world.

Your eyes –barely sparking with the same confident and sharp glint –dead and glazed out. You shift your weight off your bed, and walked towards your personal terrace, not bothering to check for any glittering shards of glass. You stride towards your balcony, resembling a lifeless corpse holding onto it's last strings.

The rain was softly drizzling onto your windows, creeping down to the ground. The wind piked up to it's highest volume once in a while. And, the moon, bright, and shimmering over the pitter patter of the rain floated above. Serene, and pleasant just like the eyes of the man who cheated on you.

The perfect calming shade of gray over the turmoil.

You pushed the door open, and walked out under the rain. The very cold droplets of water instantly targeted you, and without a doubt, in a few minutes– you would be soaked head to toe. You stood in the middle of your terrace, with your eyes gazing at calming moon.

Soon the turmoil around you was accompanied by your very own. Your tears were unseen, disguised as just another raindrop. But the agony on your face was apparent. Shortly, your legs had lost all the strength to hold your weight and you toppled onto the ground. The puddles of cold water splashed underneath you, and the rain was the only thing that kept you company while you weep under the moon.

"Oya, planning to neglect your side of the contract isn't a very honorable thing to do." A voice spoke, through the deafening rain. Somehow reaching the other man who stood a few feet away from him. "Sorry shrimpy, you can't die just yet, you still haven't fulfilled the contract!"

The unrelenting words fail to garner your attention. The combination of the loud rumbling of thunder and rain with your occupied mind block them out effortlessly.

Two pair of footsteps were unheard behind you, and a pair of hands– bare and cold –wrapped around one of your tangled strands and playfully twirled it around their finger. "Is shrimpy sad that her little partner cheated?~" He jabbed.

You limply turned your head to the left where you felt the motion, and you were met with glowing heterochromia eyes.

"Ya'know you deserve way better than what that bastard did to you." He hummed, and crept even closer towards your face. "He was just a lame ol' sticky octopus that's been in the mud for far too long~ Neh, Jade?"

The mirrored twin chuckled along with his dear twin's statement. "Eh, Floyd. Apologies, but I was truly unable to see what you thought so special of Duke Ashengrotto."

You were helpless to their tomfoolery, and weren't able to retort back with a snarky comment.

Jade raised his brow to your unusual behavior, "You're not as resistant to our comments as you were before. Have you been downgraded so badly because of the lost of your dear fiancee's love?"

Floyd let out a giggle at his brother's witty jest. "No worries~ we're still an option if you want our help, lil shrimpy!" He uses your head as a hand rest as he waits for your response.

But just like before, they were met with silence. No peep out of your tightly closed mouth underneath the company of the rain. Jade frowned at this, and came just as close as his brother was. He swiftly grabbed your chin and directed your eyes towards his.

"Just one word, and we won't hesitate to help you, under the conditions that you come with us, my dearest."

You took a breath, readying yourself for the inevitable. "I don't understand your thinking. I have not completed my first contract, and yet you propose another deal?" You slur your words due to your weariness. This time, you are the one who is met with silence. And you take it as a chance to complete your thought, "I will be sentenced to my execution in just a few hours. I won't be able to finish our still in-action contract. I apologize."

You are fully aware of the consequences of not completing your side of the contract, which was to marry Duke Azul Ashengrotto. They were the ones to hand you the poison, and you were the one who completely ruined the plan just because you weren't able to hold back your emotions. This contract was an utter failure, and you cursed yourself for thinking you were able to win back Azul.

"That's plenty enough for us. Neh Floyd?"

"Yup. We got our answer."

Huh? In the middle of your self-deprecating thoughts, you were interrupted by two men who nodded along with each other's statements. They both turned to you with devious grins, and stared at you.

"Hehe, your face is really adorable when your confused shrimpy. You look constipated~" You quite literally choke on your own spit in surprise to Floyd's offhanded remark. "Eh? Don't worry, we'll let you into our secret! Enough with the long face." Floyd gripped your cheeks with his hands roughly and wiped it as if he was truly trying to wipe your ever-increasing frown off your face.

While you were distracted by Floyd, Jade sneaked up behind you. You flinch as you felt him nonchalantly rest his palm on your shoulder. He peeked over to your startled face, and smiled coyly at you.

"In all honesty, Ms. ______, we didn't want you wedded to that ruffian in the first place. We are quite pleased at how things are already. So you may rest with no concerns." He said as if he was doing you a big favor, and his dear brother and himself weren't so-called "ruffians" either.

"It's waaaayy better to have you all to ourselves!" Floyd chided in, and shockingly rubbed his right cheek on your left cheek.

"Excuse me?" You somehow mustered the strength to respond, and tried to struggle out of their grasps, but their combined strength made you look like a hamster trying to escape a cat's maws. "L-let go of me, now!"

"Oh? So soon? This warmth is quite enjoyable."

"Yah! Stop thrashing around!"

Floyd gripped your waist even tighter, and you felt like all the air you've kept inside was pushed out of your lungs by force, rendering you weak to their movement.

"Hence, we will propose another deal to you. My dearest." Jade teasingly said in your ear, entertained by your reactions. "I-I refuse the deal! Stop this at once!" You instantly decline his proposal, not even sparing him time to fully explain the full details of it.

"Hey, you love us don't you?" Floyd asked, and your dumbfounded look makes contact with Floyd's serious non-joking face. It was unusual to see him act so docile. "I have no idea what you're going on about, though I do know that if you don't let me go this instant I will call my guards."

"Hm? What makes ya think your guards would help you out?" Floyd tilts his head, "You're practically gone from this family. You don't exist here anymore, lil shrimpy." Your eyes become downcast, and you start to realize the depth of his words. All of what he said was true. You really were going to become a minor villainess who was executed, and the story would end with a "Happily Ever After."

It wasn't the prospect that you were going to die that made you so fearful. But the prospect of dying by your lonesome. All by yourself, with no one who fought or at your side. You grimaced. A villainess in the beginning and to the end.

"Oya, she seems to realize what her fate has been dragging her towards." Jade piped in, and twirled a strand of your hair with one of his long fingers. "See now, lil Shrimpy? You have no one." Floyd's voice fell into a deeper octave. He was done playing around with you since you weren't able to take a hint. "It shouldn't hit you too hard. You're the one with Ms. Yuu's blood on your hands, after all." Jade quietly murmured, loud enough for you to hear, but quiet enough so it seems he's talking about something simple like what kind of tea he should have for this gloomy day.

"But, you have us."

"We are the ones on your side, lil shrimpy ♡"

It was a mistake. You shouldn't have agreed to make a contract with two of the most dangerous, and savage people that prevailed over the underground.

How could I...?

It shouldn't surprise you. How obsessive, and dominating the Leech brothers are towards you was your own fault. They aren't normal human beings.

But who am I to talk about human beings as if I'm one?

The baron girl had blood slowly dripping out of her mouth. The glass you kindly offered to her was shattered on the pearly ground of the balcony. Her legs were unable to hold up, and clashed to the ground. You stood there, watching, as she struggled to breath as her terrified eyes locked onto yours. Your dress fluttered in the wind, and your eyes were distant. You turned your gaze towards the Moon. It was so beautiful, but for some reason, it wasn't as beautiful as it once was on this night.

"Today, a new contract will be put into action between the Leech twins and Ms. _____, with the canceling of the contract that was once in operation." You could barely comprehend Jade's soothing voice that spoke softly into your ear.

"In this contract, person A, better known as lil shrimpy, will be faithful and true to person B, better known as the Leech brothers. In return, person B will take care and will not let person A die." Floyd claps his hands, "How do those conditions sound, lil shrimpy?"

Both twins await your answer, and as you slowly raised your head up to meet their gazes once again. You hesitated, but nodded your head along to the conditions.

Floyd grinned with glee and shoved you towards Jade who held the pen and contract in his hands.

A signature to capture your compliance to these beasts.

"Do not be so full of stress, my dearest. We will care for you with all our hearts."

"You won't escape our grasp when you sign those papers, lil shrimpy! Prepare yourself."

A/N : Honestly kinda disappointed in this one. But I hope all of you enjoy it just a lil bit. Felt like I really rushed in my writing and it was pretty messy writing too. But I'm too lazy to rewrite this whole thing. So enjoy this mess 😋😋😋

#jade leech #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland #jade leech x reader x floyd leech #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere #yandere jade leech #yandere floyd leech #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere floyd leech x reader

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