#i had some wicked dreams about bee | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lis-likes-fics · 4 months

Text

Rhyme and Reason

Pairings: Corinthian x dream!Reader Word Count: 8.7k words Prompt: Corruption Kink Warnings: NSFW, explicit descriptions of death/murder, torture, descriptions of blood, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), slight hair pulling, multiple orgasms, p in v, unprotected sex, corruption kink, creampie, fucking in front of a dead body... A/N: There are only two left, guys! I might be able to do this! This took a minute to write cause ADHD is a bitch. But I finished and I hope you like it! Thank you and Happy Holidays!

The little party you find yourself in is just that, little. It takes place in a bar rented out by the set of hosts, a get together with maybe a little over twenty party-goers.

It took so long to find him.

When your lord Morpheus disappeared some fifty years ago, you and the rest of the Dreaming were left…confused. You thought that maybe it was a test? He wanted to see how loyal his creations really were to him, their king. Would they revolt the moment he no longer gave orders?

But, after the first two decades, you concluded that he was just…gone. And you, among many dreams, left as well.

You spent the next twenty years in the Waking world, searching the world aimlessly for something to inspire you.

When Dream still resided in his realm, you would sing for him. He dreamed up a dream of music and song and you became. He loved your songs, he was inspired by the music you made.

When you sat in Fiddler’s Green, you would sing about the butterflies fluttering through the breeze or the bees in their honeycombs. When you sat by the sandy beach, you would sing about the lap of the tides against the mouth of the sea. When you looked up at the skies, you would sing about the sun and moon, how they loved each other so.

On some nights where you danced in the heads of your mortal lords, he would be there, in the seat in the back, listening to you soothe the minds of frightened children or ease the thoughts of anguished men.

Morpheus loved your sweet music, your heavenly song. You reminded him of someone, someone he loved very much.

Much he knew nothing of how you longed for more than your kindly poetry and prose. You loved the gift he bestowed upon you, but you grew weary of your melodies of dancing birds and sugar cane.

He knew nothing of the way you gazed at the dark and twisted dreams that walked his realm, the way they strut, the way they smirk, the way they spin their fables and tricks and white lies. You wished you could sing in deviant keys, tales of wicked fantasies and depraved beasts.

How you longed for the voice of a siren, rather than the whistle of a songbird.

So you looked for inspiration. And you found it.

The humans were a new kind of nightmare. Yes, they had so much love and light and whatnot, but the depravity. The debauchery and sin you found among their kind, it was more than you could have dreamed of.

You didn't just want to sing their songs, you wanted to create them. You wanted to write your verses as they wrote theirs. You wanted to sing your tales and inspire the rest in the same way your sweet lyrics did.

But you didn't know how. You searched all over for someone to teach you, to show you how to take their sullied natures and adopt them into your own poesy.

Soon you realized that no man could teach you how to sing. You'd almost given up your pursuits of fulfillment until you heard of him; a dream you'd never met but had heard of so many times before in the sleeping realm, a nightmare so infamous and so curiously revered by your former lord. You'd heard it through the mouths of chattering men, then read it in the paper. A “man” whose deeds were so reminiscent of the devil, everyone had to know his name, to know who to protect themselves against.

The Corinthian.

He captured men and took their eyes. He made them see all the wonders of the world. And you wanted to sing them.

It took so long to find him.

You seduced and bribed and begged your way through every little turn in order to get to him. And now you're here with a drink in your hand and so many inspirations surrounding you in this little bar.

And he is beautiful.

It's things like him that inspire you to sing. He’s charming and tall and the sight of him, his dark glasses—which hold more truth than eyes could ever tell—frame his face as the golden rim adores his golden hair. You catch yourself staring too often, so enamored and enchanted by the symphony that he is.

But he'd noticed you too, in the moments where your eyes don't find his. Of course he had. He knows exactly who you are, the music of the Dreaming. He hears it in every little breath you take, the gentle lilt of your voice. You were spoken of with as much regard as he was, though in the more virtuous way rather than in the way of his own notoriety.

What an odd little creature. He'd heard so much about you, how sweet and gentle you were. How Dream would sit for hours and listen to you sing in the meadow. And here you were, surrounded by the darkest of creatures, unbothered but so curious.

How nice you would be to…play with for a while.

“Well, hello there.”

His voice seeps into your skin and has goosebumps rising along your body. You turn and look up at the Corinthian like he was a sight to behold. Your eyes are slightly widened with wonder, and you look like you'll get to your knees and begin praising him at any moment, as though he is some great saint.

“Oh,” you breathe, trying and failing to be subtle. “Hi.”

He leans his elbow on the bar, looking you up and down through the dark of his glasses. “What's your name, little thing?”

You scramble to organize your thoughts once more. He's scrambled them with just the sound of his voice. “Uhm,” you stutter. Shaking your head, you offer him your name.

He chuckles lightly, his charming smile curling over his lips as he shakes his head. “No, hah,” he mutters, “I meant your alias.” He turns a little as he motions to the people in the room, dark souls able to be free in the little space of this bar. “Everyone here has an alias. What's yours?”

“Mine?” You clear your throat. “Oh…” You hadn't thought about that. You rub your palm against your thigh, smoothing your dress over your legs nervously.

He thinks you're precious. He turns with a chuckle, looking around the room before gesturing with his head toward two men talking amongst themselves.

“You see him over there? On the right?” he asks. You nod, staring at the man as the Corinthian speaks. “That's the Extinguisher. He's a pyromaniac. He traps his victims in their own homes and covers them in gasoline. Burns it to the ground, starting with them.” The way he speaks is like music, and you get lost in it.

He stares at the wonder on your face, his lips twitching into a curious grin. “Him, there? He goes by the Boa Constrictor. Like the snake. He ties up his victims real nice and tight until their skin turns purple and numb. Then he…” he breathes a little laugh, “...ties a rope ‘round their necks and keeps it there…nice and tight, until they stop squirmin’.”

He expects you to pale, to see the fear light up in your little eyes. But you don't. You stare, hypnotized by his voice and his words.

“Wow,” you whisper. “What about her?”

He smiles wide, looking at the woman in question. “Oh, her?” He licks his bottom lip. “She comes in a pair, only the public doesn't know that. Actually, they think it's a man. She and her friend over there are known as the Tailor, but they call themselves the Seamstresses. You see, it's easier to be taken seriously as a man in this age, otherwise no one would bat an eye at their art.”

Your eyes twinkle with wonder. He doesn't think you realize it when you grab his arm, clutching it as you continue to listen, watching the two ladies talk. He leans nearer to you, speaking gently into your ear.

“They slice the limbs off their victims, nice and clean cuts, and stitch them back together after they've already bled out.” He tilts his head. “They're actually quite sweet.”

You sigh, almost like you're in a dream. “Woah.”

He turns his body back to you, and you realize your hand grasping him. You let him go, offering an apology through a small smile as you looked up at him. He watches it fade, the wonder returning as you take him in.

“If I had to guess who you were…” he says quietly, his voice a whisper as his eyes wander your face, “I'd say you were the Whisperer.”

You tilt your head, watching every little shift in his face as he speaks. He smirks, “Am I right?” You blink at him, moving to speak but unable to find the words. “The artist who sews the mouths of her victims shut so they can't speak,” he seems to lean in further, his voice getting softer and softer as your eyelids flutter. “Sings a little song to them as she…slits their throats wide open.”

You sigh, nearly folding under the weight of his gaze. You nod gently. “Y-yeah,” you rasp, clearing your throat. “Yes, that's me.”

He smiles wide, leaning back to release you from the spell. You let out a breath at the distance, seeming to come back to yourself. “I admire your work,” he says. “That job you did up in Malibu was just…beautiful.”

You don't know where that is, but apparently this Whisperer did. You nod, “Thanks. Thank you.”

“In fact,” the tips of his fingers brushed your hand, turning it to hold in his palm, “I would love a demonstration. Up close and personal.”

You bring your other hand to graze the side of his palm. “Would you mind giving me the honor of witnessing it firsthand?”

You swallow thickly, staring at him. Firsthand… “Uh, I don't have…thread on me.”

He shrugs. “Well, I'm sure the Seamstresses wouldn't mind lending their tools. If we ask nicely anyway.”

“Well–”

“Come on,” he chuckles. “Just…one little show?” He shows a finger, grinning his charming grin.

So pliant to his word, you give in. “Okay.”

The proud grin he displays is wide and triumphant. “Well,” he says, “thank you very much.”

The Corinthian opens your door as you step out of the car, looking out over the large building lit up from the inside and crawling with people. He offers his hand, which you take gratefully as your stomach turns, anxiety and anticipation sharp in your gut. He gives you another charming smile.

You both walk inside, taking in the nightclub still in full swing. It's a Friday night, so there are plenty of people here looking to let loose after a long work day.

There's a small band on stage playing upbeat jazz, a singer performing for an enthused crowd. You know this song, you know every song.

The Corinthian’s arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close to him as he seems to glare at the bodies mingling with one another. It's possessive, like he'll cut the eyes out of anyone who so much as glances the wrong way at you. You lean into him.

He leans down to your ear, his smile returning as he speaks gently. “Who here sparks your interest?” he asks. “Who fits the bill?”

You look up at him. “What do you mean?”

“A target.” He looks around the club, as though he's searching for someone who sparks his own interest. “Most artists have a pattern among their chosen…” he makes a gesture with his hand, trying to find the right word, “canvases.”

You like the way he speaks. It's poetic.

You lick your lips. “What's your pattern?”

“Oh, me?” He shrugs, looking over the crowd again. “I don't follow anything specific.” Tilting his head, he hums, “I suppose I do have a bit of male preference… but I'm not picky.”

“Ah,” you mutter.

“Well?” he wondered. “Anyone?”

You look around at all the people, dancing and sweating and talking. Eventually, your eyes land on a man. He's tall and lean, with black hair messy from dancing.

He reminds you of someone.

“Him.”

The Corinthian’s gaze finds the object of yours. A grin curls devilishly over his lips.

“Very nice.”

“So…” you look up at him, “What do I do?”

The urge to play with you is strong, like it's embedded in the tissue of his being. “You don't know?”

You nod quickly, trying to figure out what to say. You're supposed to be a professional.

“Well, uh, yeah, of course I know,” you clear your throat. “B-But what do you think I should do?”

He chuckles, turning you to face him as his hands cup your waist. He leans in, moving slowly as his lips brush your ear. He lowers his voice to a deep hum. “I always find that seduction works wonders.”

You nod gently as he pulls aways. His black shades stare into your eyes, dark and compelling. “Alright.”

He chuckles, jutting his chin out toward the man, your canvas. “Go on,” he bids. “Take him to the hotel a few blocks down. I'll be waiting for you there.”

Again, you nod. He knows best.

“Okay.”

He grazes his knuckles along your cheek, granting you one last grin before turning and leaving you to your own devices. You would be fine.

You turn toward the dark-haired man, taking in a deep breath before setting a small smile upon your lips. You begin walking over to him, sinking into the music to blend in with the crowd. Even as your hips sway and your face shifts into something more sultry, your hands tremble as the anxiety slips into your skin.

Stepping up behind him, you get his attention by placing a palm on his slim waist. He glances down at your hand and follows it up your wrist, your arm, your shoulder, up to your pretty face as his own smile spreads across his pink lips. “Hello,” you smile gently, leaning forward just enough to tilt your head back to look up at him.

He turns, enjoying the way your hands shift to stay at his sides, your thumbs feeling over the fabric of his shirt. He’s handsome, easily falling victim to your own charm as he lets you seduce him. His smile widens, though he doesn’t look predatory, like a lot of men you’ve come across among the years. He’s charming.

“Well, hello there.” He looks you up and down, and you take in the sight of his pale blue eyes as he does.

You just keep smiling, and it’s all you have to do for him to fall further and further for your charm. “Hi,” you lick your bottom lip.

Considerate of you, he places his hand on your shoulder and brushes it down your arm slowly until he slips it into your hand, holding one of them and setting his other hand onto your own waist. Yours eased to his shoulder, and soon you were holding one another as you danced on a slow tempo to the quick rhythmed music.

“How's a pretty girl like you doing on a night like this, hm?” he wonders, his voice warm and just as smiling as his lips.

You shrug a shoulder as though you're shy. “I'm doing alright,” you chuckle lightly, breathily. “Are you having fun?”

He hums. “Now that you're here? So much fun.” He watched you appreciatively, biting his lower lip and sighing. “You lookin’ to play with little ole me?”

You tilt your head gently. “Do you like to play?”

“Doll,” he chuckles, “I love to play.”

You giggle softly, and you watch him seem to almost melt at the sound of it. “You wanna play with me?” you lean in a little closer.

“Do I?”

You stand on your tiptoes so your lips brush his ear as you whisper, your words light and airy. “Why don't we go somewhere more private so we can…play?”

He sighs longingly. “Oh, I love the sound of that.”

You smile wide, pulling away from him as you keep your hands firmly clasped. “Well, come on then,” you say as you pull him gently toward the door. He walks with you, joining your side and exiting the club with you on his arm.

As you're walking out, his lead taking you in the direction of his car, you find yourself humming the song that had been playing inside under your breath. His gaze turns to you and he finds himself even further under your enchantment.

What a wonder you are… An angel from heaven.

He helps you into his car, shutting your door and rounding to the other side as he takes his seat as the driver. “So where are we going?” he asks, looking at you with anticipation seeping through every pore.

You smile, and he swears you speak like a melody as you say, “I've got a room down at the hotel.” You bring a hand to your face as you rest your fingers just under your chin. “We shouldn't be interrupted there.”

He grins. “Whatever you say, doll.”

He's been so sweet, much closer on the sweeter side of the men you've met since you first came to the mortal plane. Graham, he said his name was.

You nearly felt bad about what was going to happen to Graham…but you wouldn't be putting him to waste. No, you would be honoring him. He would inspire your songs, he would give life to them. That was an honor you felt befit him, an honor he deserved.

The hotel comes into view, and your stomach flips. Graham parks, opens your door like a gentleman, and then offers his hand as the both of you enter the building. You glance around as you walk, wondering what you're supposed to do now. He just said to meet him here…

You walk, tucked into his side as you try not to aimlessly wander. He stays close to you, almost dutifully, and you don't notice the way he gazes at your face.

You look up at him, an innocent—almost naïve—glow to your eyes that makes his smile grow. “You're beautiful, you know that?”

You hum lightly, smiling gently. Your gaze wanders from his and falls upon a conference room door, the window on the door reflecting something off its surface.

Your eyes catch on the silhouette of such a familiar man. You walk over, pulling Graham with you as you push the door open.

“Thought we were going up to your room, doll?” he wonders. You pull him into the dark conference room, glancing around for your new mentor and finding nothing but shadows.

You turn back to Graham, thinking on your feet as you give him a smile. “I…just couldn't wait that long,” you chuckle lightly. You step forward, your hands on his chest.

He smiles, pushing the door closed behind him with his foot and turning the lock as he looks down at you with a smile. “Sounds good to me,” he grins.

He holds your body close, wrapping you up in his arms. Your smile falls as he leans in closer, and when his lips brush yours, you can't help but push him away with the gentle push of your fingertips.

He seems concerned as he takes you in, holding his hands up enough to show he isn't going to hurt you. “What's the matter?”

In the corner of your eyes, you catch a shadow. Your gaze lands on the Corinthian, hidden in the dark space behind Graham with a finger held up to his curling lips, and your breath hitches in a small gasp.

You watch him silently, watching as his hands gesture toward the both of you. He just nods, urging you on.

You look back at Graham, his eyes still just as concerned as before. You remember to smile, stepping back toward him as you slowly set your hands on his shoulders. “Nothing,” you whisper. You kiss him, and he takes a moment to allow you space before his hands fall to your waist again. His lips are soft, comforting.

Tilting your head, your eyes creak open to see the Corinthian again. He smiles reassuringly, lifting his hand to cover his eyes. After receiving your confused look, he just gives another encouraging gesture. You figure, he knows best.

Pulling away again, you keep your hands on his shoulders. Graham opens his eyes, watching you smile up at him. “Close your eyes?” you ask gently.

He chuckles, amused, “Why?”

You bat your lashes, a subtle but rapid blink that makes him pliant to you. “Trust me?” Your voice is gentle and small, a whisper he has nor reason to doubt.

He just sighs and laughs, shaking his head as he brings hand to cover his eyes, peeking at you teasingly before hiding behind his palm again. You look to the Corinthian for more instruction.

He raises his finger to tap his throat. You watch his other hand come up, balling into a tight fist. He punches his palm soundlessly. And you understand.

You place your gaze upon Graham once more. His pretty face, his messy black hair, his pink lips, his closed eyes hiding pale blue rings around his pupils. You clench your fist, feeling the tightness in your fingers, the strain of the skin over your knuckles.

You take in a deep bracing breath, and he's still waiting patiently for you. Patient, gentle, good.

And you strike him hard in his throat, your fist colliding with his Adam’s apple as his eyes bulge from his skull. He tries to gasp at the sudden impact, the sound barely coming out in a painful wheeze as he raises his hands to his throat.

He looks at you, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His mouth is open wide as he gapes, trying so hard to speak, to breathe, to figure out why.

You hadn't even realized it when the Corinthian moved, his hands landing heavily over Graham’s shoulders as he wheezes and gasps, making the most dreadful sounds in an attempt to breathe.

“Hello, there,” he grins, Graham’s eyes finding him and bulging. When did he get there?

His gaping mouth tries to form a word, and the Corinthian tilts his head to hear it before chuckling lightly. “Don't try to speak. You'll find it hurts more.”

He pulls a chair from the large conference table and sits him roughly down onto it. Graham doesn't try to bolt, the door is locked and he isn't confident in his ability to get out of here with the Corinthian as your apparent partner. He tries to speak, to negotiate, but he can't get any sound past senseless croaks.

The Corinthian joins your side, wrapping an arm possessively around your waist as you stare at the man you'd doomed. Doomed. That's a nice word.

He opens up his jacket, reaching in an inside pocket as he pulls out the silver needle and red thread he'd procured from the Seamstresses.

“Now, beautiful,” he says, handing it over to you, “why don't you take this while I help you out a little?” You look at the tools he offers, blink a couple of times before picking it up.

His crooked finger brushes under your chin before he turns away toward your friend again. He rounds to another chair, which he pulls from its spot tucked at the table, a duffle bag you hadn't noticed before sitting in the seat. In the bag is rope, strong rope he uses to tie Graham to the chair as he kneels behind him.

You glance at the needle. “What do I do with it?”

He looks up at you as he wraps the rope around the back of the chair and his chest and ignores Graham’s struggles. He says it like it's obvious. “You'll sew his mouth shut.”

Graham struggles against the rope, but to no avail. The Corinthian makes a tight knot, looking at him with a warning in his tone. “I suggest you be nice and good for her or…” he smiles, his hands on his shoulders as his lips brush the shell of his ear, “I'll just have to intervene. And you don't want that.”

Graham goes completely still, sweating and crying now. The tears roll down his cheeks and he gives you a desperate look.

You realize your hands are shaking, like the first time you even stepped foot toward him.

“I…” you mutter, staring at the needle.

The Corinthian’s smile remains unchanged, encouraging. “Come on,” he says as he stands, walking over toward you once more. “Don't be shy.”

The anxiety curls in your stomach, shakes in your hands. You take a step back, turning to him timidly as you don't meet his eyes. “I'm… I'm not her,” you say, struggling to get the words out as the nerves eat away at you. “I lied… I'm not the Whisperer. I'm just…some dream… I'm just a dream.”

He laughs, and you watch him as the confusion sinks into the features of your face. Graham is out of both your minds as you stare at him.

“Well, I know that.” He chuckles, stepping into your space as he grabs your free hand, cradling it in his palm. “But you're not just any dream, are you? You're Aria. One of Morpheus’ special dreams, his little song.”

Irritation rises in your belly and you shake your head, stepping back and letting go of his hand. “I'm not Aria,” you bite. “Not anymore. I hate that name.”

He raises a brow. “Do you now?” His smirk is devilish. “Who are you then?”

You stare at him, offering the name you'd take thirty years ago when you left the Dreaming for the first time, your new name with its new rhythm and rhyme. The Corinthian repeats it back to you, tasting it on his tongue like honey.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, another step taking you away from him. “But I'm not the Whisperer.”

He shrugs. “‘Course you're not. I made her up.” You watch him, surprise in every crevice of your face. He reaches out and takes your hands, pulling you close again as he watches you, the look I'm his eyes almost predatory as he lowers his voice for you to hear. His words seep into your skin.

“But you want to be, don't you?” He smiles, “I can see it in your eyes, you wanna be more than Dream's ‘little song’, don't ya?”

Graham watches, feeling his vocal chords easing in the slightest bit. He still can't speak, can't scream, can't get any sound out but a whisper so quiet, he still can't be heard.

“You want to be something not so sweet,” he continues. “You wanna sing something other than Kumbaya, holding hands with your neighbors and bein’ all nice and happy.”

Your lip twitches at the mention of that song, a campfire song that felt like a pinnacle of your distaste for the music you've been forced to sing. “I hate Kumbaya,” you mumble.

He chuckles. “Don't we all?” He brushes his knuckles along your cheekbone, smoothing down to rest underneath your chin. “You can be so much more than that. I know it. You can leave behind all that sweetness, and become like me. Remake yourself in your own image.”

He raises your hand, still cupping the needle and thread in your palm. “All you have to do…” he gently pushes your palm toward your body, separating each word as he does, “...is take the needle.”

He takes a step back, giving you space to think.

You look down at your palm, contemplating. This is it. This is your chance to become more than a little songbird. You could become better. You could fulfill your own hopes and dreams and become a better version of you.

Your fingers curl over your palm.

Your eyes turn on Graham, and fear flashes across his face. You take the first step toward him, then another, and he begins to squirm in his chair as you do. The Corinthian tuts, walking toward him as he places his hands on his shoulders to keep him down, still.

He smiles, a dark and wicked smile. “There you go,” he encourages. “Do it. Become more than that sweet little dream. Do what you want to do, not what you were made to.”

You take the string of thread and punch it between your thumb and forefinger, stilling your breath completely as your slightly shaky hands work to thread the needle. It takes a moment for you to get it through the eye, letting out a relieved sigh when you do.

Graham keeps squirming, despite the uselessness. You stand in front of him. “Take a seat,” the Corinthian says. “It'll be easier.”

You set your free hand on his shoulder, lowering yourself onto his lap as you straddle him. His mouth forms a word, the slightest whisper tearing painfully from his throat as it did. Please. Please. Please.

He casts a desperate, pleasing gaze upon you, his life in your hands—the hands of the beautiful siren who had forsaken him. You watch him with an unwavering gaze, the anxiety and anticipation curling your brows.

He is so good. So genuinely good. The kind of good that stares at your face and calls you beautiful. The kind that keeps calling you beautiful until you no longer have the capacity not to believe it. He's the kind of good that holds you when you're sad, wipes away your tears when you cry. The kind of good that makes you feel better about living in such a cruel world.

And you want to feel bad about taking his life away, about taking the rhythm of his heartbeat away.

But you can't, and you don't. And honestly, a rage and desperation flares within you as you stare at him. Because he is good. And that's just the problem, isn't it?

For so long, all of your songs have been so good. Songs about dancing birds and twinkling stars and buzzing bees. Songs about hope and love and care and whatever else. And you're sick of it.

You were only drawn to him because he's good.

You need something new, something a little fiercer than the blazing sun in the sky, something a little darker than the moonless night. You need inspiration.

And he could give it to you. The Corinthian would help.

You begin to move your hands toward his face, and Graham desperately tries to move away. You sigh, looking up at the Corinthian. He understands immediately.

Taking Graham’s face in his hands, he holds his head still and his jaw securely closed. He bears his teeth like a frightened animal, breathing quickly as whispers of protest strain in his crushed vocal chords.

You use one hand to hold his lips closed. The Corinthian nods along with you. “Just at the corner. Right there.” You slide your pinched fingers over to the left corner of his lips. “Very good. Now just…push it in…”

You position the needle, holding there for a long time as you internalize taking this step. All you have to do…is push it in.

The needle pierces his flesh, sinking into his skin as he screams silently, held still as a statue by the Corinthian, as though his strength is nothing to him.

The sharp end comes out on the other side of his bottom lip, and you pull it all the way through as the red thread becomes redder with the blood staining it. You pull until you have enough length, tying the end off with steadier hands.

“Very good,” the Corinthian praises. “See? You're a natural.”

He takes in his success, his great triumph. Dream's little song…nothing more now than the outlines of a nightmare waiting to be filled in with a little more color. He almost feels drunk off the sight of you, straddling this man as you continue to pierce him with your needle and sew his lips shut, tight, taking away the one thing you were made to do.

Sing.

Such a sweet little bird you are now, a corrupted and twisted little dream in the hands of a wicked nightmare.

He watches you thread the needle through his flesh as Graham continues to cry and try and try and try to scream, to have someone hear him, save him from the pain and torture. But you're all alone in here, locked inside this room with nothing but the night…

As you focus, you find yourself easing into the task. Pinching and piercing and pulling and repeating. You smile, calm as a melody comes to mind.

You hum it, lower and slower than the original speed. The Corinthian watches, in awe of you as you continue to work. He almost swears the rhythm of Graham’s silent breaths and cries begin to form to the rhythm of your song.

“Say ‘Night-ie night’ and kiss me,” you whisper, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Graham’s nose. “Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.”

You poke the needle through the end of his lip, piercing the far right corner slowly, calmly. “While I'm alone and blue as can be…” You tie the end of the knot, singing a little slower as you do. “Dream a little dream of…me.”

You lean forward and cut the thread with your teeth, taking in the sight of your good work. The Corinthian lets Graham go, and he just sits there, still sobbing, his face wet with tears and blood and sweat.

“Look at that,” the Corinthian admires, laughing deep in his throat as he sets his hands on your shoulders and shakes his head. “Beautiful.”

You stare at him, taking in the sight before you. The Corinthian’s hands fall to your waist, and his head rests at the crook of your neck. Graham’s eyes struggle to stay open, his vision blurry with tears and the adrenaline and pain crashing down and making it hard to find the will to stay conscious.

“Look at all your hard work,” the Corinthian hums, the sound of your song still playing in his mind. “How does it feel?”

You look at him. His dark blood is crimson as it stains his shirt. His messy black hair is only worse now, his pale blue eyes brighter and paler as his pupils grow to the size of a coin.

He looks beautiful, you think.

“Different.”

The tip of his nose brushes underneath your ear. “Do you want to finish it off?”

You nod gently.

The Corinthian fishes a sharp blade from the inside of his jacket. He takes your hand and wraps it around the handle, gripping it tight and helping to guide you.

“Right…” he moves the tip of the blade to press against Graham’s straining neck. He presses it right under his chin, starting from the far right, opposite the needle, “...here.”

“Here?” you ask as he lets go, keeping the blade steady.

He nods. “Right there.”

You lift your other hand to hold the back of his neck steady. Graham watches, terrified. You stare him dead in the eyes, unblinking, unwavering.

You carve the blade into his throat and slice. All the way across, you take your time in slowly slitting his throat. You only blink as the blood sprays out of his sliced arteries and spray all over your face and neck. It keeps spraying and keeps spraying, coming in spurts as he chokes on his blood, gurgling and coughing.

You continue to stare at him, even as you've finished even after he has died and the light has left his eyes and the songs have left his soul. His eyes are bulgy and he's drenched in blood. Butchered.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a dark hand reaching out to Graham. You want to turn, to see her take him, to watch as he is swept away in the hands of Death to his afterlife. But you don't. Watching Graham, you see the flickers of hope in his eyes die out as the life leaves him and replaces it with emptiness. A momentary silence is filled with the gentle flap of wings.

The Corinthian comes back to mind as he pulls you back enough to see the whole of your work. He shakes his head in admiration, smiling wide.

“Your first one,” he says.

“My first one.”

“How does it feel?”

His hands on your hips pull you back against his body. You lean into him. “Different.”

He chuckles lightly, one of his hands moving from your waist in favor of sliding up the length of your body to wrap around your throat, resting there as he holds you securely. His other hand slides down your arm and takes the knife from your hand.

“I think you liked it,” he hums in your ear, dropping his knife on the table with a clatter and holding your neck tighter. “Having his life in your hands?”

You swallow thickly, staring at the dripping blood as the crimson on your face dries. “I–”

“Say it,” he cuts you off, his lips right by your ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe. “You loved it. You loved silencing him.”

He feels your shallow breaths beneath his palm. Still dazed, you say, “I–”

“Say it.”

You take in a slow breath, filling your lungs before you admit it, the curling in your stomach gone and replaced by the chills along your skin. “I loved it,” you sigh. “I loved silencing him.”

He smiles triumphantly. “I know you did,” he chuckles. “Now look at you. A new person, a new dream.” His smile widens and his hand tightens. “You're just like me.”

“Just like you.”

“A nightmare.” His lips graze the shell of your ear.

“A nightmare.”

You lean into him with a slight moan when his lips press against your neck, kissing it with insistent lips and insistent teeth. “Just like you,” you whisper, like the repeating lyrics of a song.

“Just like me.”

Your eyes flutter at the way his teeth nip at your flesh. “A nightmare.”

“A nightmare.” He turns you around in his arms, moving you so your back presses against the table. His lips crash down on yours, swallowing you whole as they do. He can taste the blood staining your lips. You melt against him, weak and wanting as his body presses flush against yours. He bends you back against the table, laying you down as his lips trail down to the skin of your neck, kissing and biting and sucking.

“Look at you,” he breathes. “A corrupted little dream.”

Corrupted. You like that word.

“Corinthian,” you moan, bringing your arms up as your hands wrap around the back of his head and keep him close to you.

“My little dream,” he scoffs, his hands gripping your body tightly.

You go to speak, but he cuts you off. He laughs wickedly. “But you're not a dream, are you? And you're not a nightmare.”

“Cor–”

“You're just a little whore, aren't you?” he smirks, riding your shirt up as his hand slips under it. “A little whore who wants to be something else.”

You moan. “A whore.”

His face is inches from yours again as he speaks quietly, his voice low and rough and dangerous. “You thought I wouldn't know what you were when I saw you?” he questions, finding it amusing. “You thought I wouldn't know you were just a dream trying to be something she isn't?”

Your breath has picked up, heavy as your head spins. “I–”

He's not having it. He silences you again, holding your throat still as he makes you look at him, as he makes sure you can't look away. “Let me show you what you are,” he breathes. “Then I'll rebuild you into something you can be.”

Enchanted by him and his words, you breathe deeply. “Show me what I am,” you echo.

He nods, “That's right.”

“What I can be.”

“Good girl,” he praises. He attacks your mouth once more. It's a bruising kiss as he wraps you up in him. His hand grips your neck tightly, constricting your breath a bit as he does. With one hand, he rips your dress from your body and lets it fall to the ground in rags. You gasp as he does it, your body now exposed to the chilly air as you're left in nothing but your undergarments.

He hums deeply as he looks over you. He smiles. “Dream had it right with this body,” he says, running his hand over your skin and listening to the way you moan.

He hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them roughly down your legs to reveal yourself to him. “Look at you,” he breathes as he smooths his hand over your mound. “You're so pretty, aren't you?”

You moan when his long middle finger sinks inside of you, sliding between your damp folds. He's surprised by how wet you are, though he supposes he shouldn't be.

You immediately clamp down around his finger, and he lets out a long sigh. “Such a tight little thing.”

Your legs move to close at the intrusion, not new to the feeling but still not quite used to it either. He just forces them apart, keeping you spread wide for him as he does. “Don't you hide yourself from me,” he says, thrusting a second finger inside of you as you moan at the stretch.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, collecting the gathering wetness as he watches you through his dark glasses, admires the way your body responds to him.

Your hips meet his hands as he keeps touching you, eager to feel more of him as your shallow breaths continue to pass between your lips. When he pulls his hand from you, you whimper at the loss, clenching around nothing in an attempt to feel him again.

You watch as he sets his fingers on his tongue, closing his mouth around them and suckling with a deep hum. He caresses your name with his lips as he looks down at you. “You're delicious, sweetheart,” he says, and your body keens into his touch.

His hand around your throat tightens as he bends down so his face is hardly separated from yours. “I bet you'd just love to feel my mouth on you, hm?”

You nod quickly, “Please.”

He laughs darkly, kissing you roughly and letting his mouth trail down your body—down, down, down until his mouth ghosts over your fluttering pussy.

Your back arches when you feel his hot mouth against you. His tongue laps against your folds and he suckles around you, tasting the sweetness of your nectar. His tongue flattens against you as he begins to lick you up.

His hand loosens around your throat before ultimately letting go to hold your grinding hips down. Your mouth falls open and you give into him, tangling your fingers in his hair and encouraging his mouth against you.

He laps at your pussy like you're the finest wine. He can taste the virtue that pulsed in your veins, and he can taste the darkness beginning to replace it. His tongue delves inside of you, his lips wrapping around your throbbing clit and suckling gently.

The pleasure jolts through your body like a fire, and you’re entirely willing to let it consume you. You want to feel its burning flames lick at your flesh, searing it from bone to turn you to ash and create something new out of the remains.

The Corinthian sinks three fingers into you after a while, pumping them in and out as you enjoy the delicious stretch with closed eyes, moaning and grinding. He looks up at you, looking for your eyes and finding them hooded.

You mewl when he pulls away from you. “No, no, no,” he says. “Open your eyes, sweetheart. You gotta watch me make you mine.”

You do as you're told, opening your eyes and doing your best to keep them that way. He praises you with another “good girl” before he's wrapping his lips around you again.

He enjoys every second immensely, tasting the sweet nectar of your arousal as he coaxes it from you, taking the grinding of your hips every time he curls his fingers or sucks on your clit.

You moan his name as you feel the rise in your stomach tightening with an oncoming pleasure. You clench around his fingers, your clit pulses against his tongue. You've forgotten all about Graham's body slumped in his bindings, you'd forgotten the blood staining your face and neck. It's all the Corinthian.

You throw your head back roughly and gasp when you cum, your head spinning as the back of it smacks against the table. Your thighs tremble and shake as he refuses to let up, sinking his tongue deeper inside. Your moans almost sound like tiny cries as you grind your hips into his mouth.

He licks his lips, tasting you on his tongue with an immense amount of appreciation. "You're fucking delicious, baby,” he hums, smirking dangerously.

He sits up to his full height once more, his hand finding its place around your throat as he bends down to kiss you again. The taste of yourself on his tongue is intoxicating.

His lips smack as he pulls away from you. Without a word, he flips you onto your stomach atop the table. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing it roughly. The breath is forced from your lungs as your chest presses against the table.

The Corinthian tangles his hand in your hair as he roughly pulls your head up, making you look up as your eyes fall on Graham.

“Look at him,” he hums. “Look at all that good work.”

You do. You take in the sight of him with a new set of eyes. The red thread keep his lips shut tight. He'd made such wonderful sounds when you'd sewn them. You'd taken his song and added it to your own, his fear and his desperation had been the perfect addition to your symphony.

His blood soaks his clothes, as well as your face, what was once crimson now darker from being exposed to the air. You can still hear the way he choked, the way he gasped for air that wouldn't come.

His skin was so pale, his eyes that were once a pale blue now cloudy and grey with the mask of death. His once pink lips are just as grey. You can still see the smile they made, the words they spoke. The things he could sing.

You could still hear him singing.

You moan when the Corinthian’s hand presses between your slick folds again. He smiles, another dark chuckle slipping from his lips. “There you go,” he says. “Nice and slick for me. Be a good girl and say please.”

You let out an airy breath, mumbling a tiny whisper of, “Please.”

But he isn't convinced as he groans and shakes his head. “No, you can do better than that, sweetheart. Now I'm not going to give you what you need until you say please.”

Desperate and needy, you let out another breathy moan. “Please,” you whine again, louder this time as your words form into a melody. “I need you. I need you to make me yours.”

He's drunk off your obedience, the way you gave into him so easily from the start. He inclines his head, satisfied. “Good girl.”

The jingle of his belt buckle fills your ears with its gentle ring. Your pussy flutters when you feel the tip of him press against your folds. “Please,” you whisper again.

You let out a long breath when he buries himself to the hilt inside of your hot cunt. A rough groan falls from his lips, the tip of his cock pressing deep inside of you as you lose your breath.

You grip the table, allowing the pleasure to fill you as he holds your hips tight. You moan at the stretch of him inside you.

The Corinthian lets out a deep breath, steadying himself as he pulls out just barely to the tip before roughly thrusting back into. You moan loudly, your head dizzy with the feeling blossoming inside of you.

He doesn't allow you a slow build. He doesn't give you the privilege of easing you into the monstrous nature of his love. Instead, he holds you steady as he fucks into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust to him.

He grunts and groans behind you as he uses you to his need. He feeds off your moans, their song-like nature filling the air and seeming to hypnotize him into wanting even more of you, into needing even more of you.

The sound of his hips smacking against your ass fills the room. It joins your moans and his dark grunts, blending together perfectly.

“Listen to you,” he grunts. “You're my little song now.”

You can no longer think straight, your head spinning with pleasure, with the sound of Graham's singing in your head, with the sound of flapping wings.

You watch Graham as if through rose-colored glasses, the pleasure mixing with the sight of him creating something you've never felt before as you continue to moan meekly.

And, for a moment, you think of Dream.

As a melody plays in the back of your brain, a new melody you've never heard before, you think about how much you want to show Dream.

But he abandoned you. And, before that, he'd created you as a sweet dream that could never know anything other than harmony. And you hated him for that.

So, as you watch the blood drip from his sealed lips, you smile and give into the Corinthian completely. His fingers press to your clit, and you shudder as you feel yourself getting so close, so close to falling apart and forever becoming the Corinthian’s song…ready to leave Sweet Dream behind forever.

The pressure builds as his speed on your clit does as well. You clench around his cock, your head light and your moans scratching your throat. “Corinthian,” you whine. “I'm so close.”

His hips snap into yours a little harder. “I bet you are,” he huffs. “Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make you nice and full.”

The pleasure rises within you until you can’t hold it in anymore. With a thrust of his hips and a circle of his finger, you fall apart. Your whole body shudders as you let out a loud, breathy moan as it all comes crashing down. You give in to the Corinthian’s symphony of death.

A rough groan, bordering on a growl, erupts from his throat as he shoves his cock as deep inside you. He gives in to the squeeze of your cunt and cums, grinding his hips so deep as he fills you to the brim.

And with one last thrust, with his cum buried in your fluttering pussy, he claims you as his. He lets go of your hair, pulling out of you with a heavy sigh.

You whimper at the loss of him, laying on the table as your legs shake.

The Corinthian’s arms wrap around you, picking you up and pulling you to stand as he embraces you in another kiss. You lean into him, letting his lips meld against yours.

He looks over your face, the new clarity in your eyes. He smiles.

“Sing me a song, sweetheart.”

And you do. You sing a song of a dying promise, the sounds of the symphony you'd just created allowing you to sing a melody of broken hope and shattered dreams.

You sing for a long time as the Corinthian listens to you, enchanted by your song, by your new dream.

Now, you belonged to him.

The Sandman taglist: @poetic-fiasco @the-nerdy-goddess @life-on-needs @fanreader @jamiethenerdymonster @sarahbullet235 @majestyjade @melinoe-the-rat @katsukis1wife @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @hatterripper31 @kplatzman @kmc1989 The Corinthian taglist: @waitingformysandman @honey-im-hotdog @saltysasque @anotherblackreader Tag yourself here...

#corinthian #the corinthian #corinthian x reader #corinthian x you #corinthian smut #corinthian fanfic #corinthian fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fanfiction #reader insert #female reader #10 days of smutmas

53 notes · View notes

nitecourtfairytail · 1 year

Text

Heavy Hearts

Y’all. Formatting on tumblr SUUUUUUCKS. Just fyi. So if you wanna read this in slightly prettier format here’s the Ao3 link

Anyway, here’s chapter 9. EXPLICIT CONTENT

Rhysand is a busybody, some background info is given, Gwyn apologizes.

This is my first ever attempt at writing smut, so if it’s bad, tell me 😅

Pronunciation: Aby- AH-bee; Ommi- OH-me (like in German)

Ch. 9 Heavy (POWERS)

Rhysand couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It had barely been two weeks since the incident at Rita’s. They were all safe and together at the townhouse (minus Mor-she texted last night saying she’d gone to Rita’s and went home with someone ‘Don’t wait up! 😉’). But the revelations from last night had his mind reeling.

He shook his head, finally vacating his cozy fortress of blankets to grab his emergency toiletries from his car. He and Az had taken over Mor’s room and Cass took the pull out couch to himself.

As he skulked down the stairs trying to not wake anyone, he overheard Cassian and Elain talking in the kitchen.

“How much I love him already. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For some kind of sign that this is a dream or a fantasy that I made up to cope with reality.”

He couldn’t help but smile despite her anxieties. He had always hoped his brother would find someone to love him how he deserved to be-plus he and Cass already loved Elain like a sister. Caught up in the moment, he didn’t notice the front door creep open. But then something moved in the shadows out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head to see Azriel trying to sneak back in the house.

“Where the fuck were YOU?!” He whispered. “I thought you were out back smoking.”

Azriel tried to hide something behind his back, straightening up. “I just ran to your car real quick.”

“What’s behind your back?” Rhys demanded. All pretense of keeping the two in the kitchen from knowing his presence gone.

“What are you talking about?” Azriel asked. His back kept to the wall as he crept sideways along it.

“You’re the one that’s been stealing the mousse out of my car?! I knew it!” Rhysand ran toward him, but Az was able to turn the corner into the kitchen, keeping him at bay behind the table, a wry smile on his face.

“Uh…..morning?” Elain offered, unsure of what to make of the scene unfolding in front of her. “Is this how you two usually wake up?” She asked neither one in particular.

“This bastard has been stealing my mousse and blaming it on Cass for months! I finally caught him in the act!” Rhysand ‘answered.’

“Well to be fair I’ve also been using it.” Cassian shrugged

Rhysand gaped at him. “You’re both bastards! I can’t believe this!”

Elain shook her head, walking toward the door to the back porch with a refilled cup of coffee in hand “it’s too early for this. What I said last night stands. We want our security deposit back, so watch the damages.”

~~~~~~

Ten minutes later Azriel stepped out to join her. He had grabbed a blanket from the living room and wrapped it around her shoulders as he walked up behind her.

She gasped in shock, obviously deep in thought, but quickly melted into his arms.

“You scared me.” She pouted

“I’m sorry. You looked cold out here.” He rested his chin on her shoulder while rubbing her arms through the blanket to relieve any chill.

“I think I might warm up faster if you were under the blanket with me.” Her cheeks flushed when she realized she’d said it out loud.

“Elain…are you flirting with me?” He asked with a wicked grin.

She bit her lip “Maybe”. He motioned for her to stand up, taking the cream blanket with light blue polka dots off of her and draping over himself. He held the corners out wide as he sat down, wrapping around her waist and pulling her to sit on his lap. The both of them giggling like children.

“Better?” He asked, nose rubbing the column of her neck.

“Much.”

They sat together in content quiet. Resting her head on his shoulder and breathing in his scent as he peppered gentle kisses to her own. Her hands on his, rubbing small circles with her thumbs.

Azriel sat forward, wiggling his hand between the edges of the blanket to grab Elain’s cigarettes on the table. Bringing one to his lips, he lit it, inhaling a deep drag. Elain turned her head toward him, slipping her fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck. She captured his lips in her own- stealing the smoke from his lungs before tilting her head up and blowing it away from them.

“Fuck that was hot.” He whispered as Elain giggled at his wild eyes.

The door to the porch swung open to Rhys, Feyre and the twins filing out.

Az closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Is ten minutes alone really too much to ask?”

“It is when Cassian and Nesta decide to shower together.” Feyre shivered, as if recalling the last time she’d been in the same house as them during one of their escapades. “I swear he sounds like a fucking animal. And not like ‘oh sexy. He’s an animal in bed’ but like ‘that’s an actual wild animal rutting in the forest’. It’s terrifying.”

“No, what’s terrifying is how much we’re going to have to pay to get that bathroom professionally cleaned.” Elain whispered to Azriel who tried to hide his snicker as a cough.

Feyre eyed the giggling couple “So, you never actually told us how you and Az met, Elain.” Feyre asked curiously. “I mean…. Obviously though Rhys and Cassian, but how did this” she waved her hand between the pair “come to be?”

Elain smiled as she recalled their embarrassing meet-cute.

“I did not say ‘beautiful ass’. I was sober enough to remember that I said ‘absolutely spectacular ass that I stopped to bask in the glory of’.” Azriel corrected the first words Elain ever heard him speak regarding herself. “I stand by that statement.”

“You really are an ass man, aren’t you?” Elain teased.

“I told you-I know what I like.” He responded by pinching her bottom under the blanket.

She gasped, staring at him wide eyed. “I can’t believe you did that!” She jutted her bottom lip out, pretending to cry.

“I’m sorry baby. Was it too far?” He kissed her temple, smiling as she melted into him.

“No. Just don’t make a habit of it.” She gave him a playful glare not too secretly hoping he in fact would make a habit of it.

“Don’t you have work today, brother?” Cassian and Nesta finally joined the group outside, the former clapping Azriel on the shoulder as he passed.

“Nah. I’m on paid leave while they investigate the ‘incident’ with Jurian. According to Perry they finished the investigation days ago, but he’s been holding them up to give me a little extra time off.” He tightened his hold on Elain, noticing she’d started dozing off. “So..Come on sleepyhead. I think it’s high time I take you on a real date.”

He slid his arm under her knees, standing up to carry her into the house as she squealed in surprise at the sudden movement.

~~~~~~

She wasn’t sure how to dress for this date. He refused to give her any information on where he was taking her. With autumn fully upon them now, the days we’re getting cooler. If she wore a dress she’d get cold, and while she’d love to be up against him all day, it would be uncomfortable being chilly for so long.

She chose a simple, but cute outfit. Black leggings with a white floral pattern, a simple white v neck and a black knit cardigan. She topped it off with her favorite pair of lace up heeled boots that were comfy enough to walk in for hours, but gave her ‘spectacular ass’ a little extra boost.

She threw on some eyeliner and mascara and plumped up her hair before walking downstairs to meet Azriel at the door. Rhysand gave him one of his ‘emergency’ shirts- a dark blue button down that almost looked like he was sewn into it.

“M’lady” he bowed, holdin out his arm for her. She curtsied, placing her hand on his arm “m’lord. They laughed at their own antics and walked out the door.

“So. Where are you taking me for our first date?” She skipped excitedly beside him.

“To start off, we’ll be taking a walk through the park.” He smiled at her. “Starting simple.”

“I think that sounds perfect.”

~~~~~~

“That spot right there-just past the water fountain” Azriel pointed to the trail across from them. A small playground with a few see saws and various creatures on springs in between the two “that’s where you kissed my cheek that day. I was already crazy about you, you know” he wrapped his arm around her waist, kissing her temple. He’s never been this open about his emotions. It was truly frightening how easily the words came outz

“I had a feeling” she playfully nudged him with her shoulder.

They kept on down the walkway when Elain spied the larger playground. “I’ve always loved swing sets. We didn’t get to play on them much as kids, but once I moved out I’d often find myself at the park in the middle of the night. I’d swing for hours just staring at the stars.”

“Well let’s go then.” He pulled her toward the awaiting play set. The few parents there with their children eyeing them warily.

They sat in the two farthest swings-away from little ears. “What about you? Did you and your brothers go to the playground as kids?”

He twisted back and forth in his swing “Once my parents got me, yeah. But before then..”

She smiled solemnly at him, but couldn’t think of what to say.

“I’ve never told anyone other than my brothers and Mor what happened-my life before this one.”

“You know you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to-“

“But I do want to. I want you to know everything about me. And I wanna know everything about you.” He grabbed her hand as they rocked themselves back and forth on their respective swings.

“What happened? I mean-if you want to talk about it.”

He huffed a laugh as the corners of his lips tilted upward ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t have brought it up otherwise, love.” He teased. She rolled her eyes.

“My mom lived on the continent. She met a guy, fell in love, and a few months in she found out she was pregnant with me…and he freaked. Turns out he was married with two kids already, and mom was his side chick.”

Elain kept silent except for a grunt of disgust.

“He tried to convince mom to abort me, but she refused. So he ended up having to tell his wife and she was obviously livid, but stayed with him for whatever reason-he was well off so it was probably for his money. Anyway, I was born, and mom got sole custody, but my sperm donor would visit occasionally. The last visit, he drugged her-she passed out for HOURS. And when he left he made sure to leave the door open. Apparently I had just learned to crawl and wandered outside. It was the very beginning of spring so there were still little patches of snow and ice; it wasn’t warm enough to melt it all away.”

Elain listened in horror imagining a months old baby alone and cold.

“By the time someone found me, I’d been outside so long I was blue.”

“You poor baby! Why would he do that?!”

“So he could either get rid of me or paint my mother as neglectful and vie for custody. Whether it was true or not that she was neglectful, he had the money to pay for a better lawyer…or pay off the judge I’m not sure which. He won. And I was sent to live with him and his family.”

Elain squeezed his hand, rubbing her thumb over his own.

“I wasn’t wanted by them. His wife hated me. I was kept in the unfinished basement, with a single sheet and a mattress. They gave me just enough food to survive, and that’s it. No lights. No nothing. Just darkness. His other children would come down and “play” with me-poking and prodding and hitting for their own entertainment until one day they decided to play with fire…literally.”

“Oh my gods. No.” Her eyes grew wider with fear.

“Their parents weren’t home, but one of the neighbors heard me screaming. They came running and that was the first time any of them even knew of my existence. They called the cops and took me to the ER..that’s when I met my REAL dad-the one who raised me. He was the cop assigned to my case.”

“He found my birth mom- wanted to give her a chance to redeem herself in the eyes of the court. But when I was taken from her she fell into a deep depression and turned to drugs to cope. So my parents, Drakon and his wife Miryam adopted me. Helped set up my birth mom with a rehab center, and we’re still in contact.” He smiled at the thought “Myriam-Ommi, taught me how to speak, how to read. I was the second to join the family, after Rhys. Aby-dad, transferred here not long after Cass came along to give us a fresh start.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. The rage she felt toward his birth father and his family was getting harder to control. How could someone could be so cruel to their own child?!

“How old were you?” It was all she could think of to ask.

“Six.”

She let out an angry laugh. “I’m glad you had Drakon and Myriam. And even though they’re the result of something horrific, and I know you hate them..I love your hands.”

He tilted his head, a cautiously curious look in his eyes. “No one has ever said that before.”

“They’re all fuckin idiots then. Your hands are beautiful.” She brought the one she was holding to her lips. “They’re gorgeous, and strong, and gentle, and so very sexy. Just like the rest of you.” She emphasized every adjective with a kiss.

“I think we should get out of here.”

“Why?” She asked, furrowing her brow. Had she done something wrong?

He lowered his voice to a raspy whisper, pulling the chains of their swings together “I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to be this turned on in front of innocent eyes.”

She stood up immediately, her cheeks blazing, pulling a chuckling Azriel behind her.

As soon as they were back on the walkway, he grabbed her from behind resting his chin on her shoulder and taking wide strides to not trip her up. Even he had to admit it was disgustingly cute how happy they were together.

~~~~~~

“Are your parents still around?” They were seated at a tiny little hole-in-the-wall pizza place that Azriel claimed was the best in Prythian. Sitting outside waiting for their food to come, Elain decided she wanted to know anything he was willing to tell her.

“Yeah.” He grabbed her hand across the table. “Ommi wants to meet you something fierce. Says she’s never seen me this happy before, and wants to thank the woman responsible.”

“Really?!” She beamed

“Yeah” he smiled to himself for a moment. “Aby too. He’s got a bit of a rough exterior-kinda comes with the job, I guess- but he’s always been kind to me and my brothers.”

“I’d love to meet them.” She told him sincerely. She’d never met Greysons parents. He claimed it was because his mom was agoraphobic and dad was a workaholic, but who knows how true that was. Either way, she was excited that the people who loved Azriel and gave him a better life wanted to meet her.

~~~~~~

“If I know my brother-and trust me, I do-he’ll be showing her his favorite restaurant right about now.” Rhysand whispered to Feyre.

“You know you don’t have to whisper, right? Like, they’re nowhere in sight, and even if they were they’d be across the street from us..” she gave him a look as if to say “there’s no way you’re that cute and that dumb.”

“True, but it adds to the intrigue.” He winked

Feyre rolled her eyes at him, but couldn’t contain her smile. “Why are we spying on them anyway? I don’t understand.”

“Well , Feyre, Darling, I still can’t shake the feeing that something awful is going to happen.”

“So why don’t you just tell them that instead of being weird and watching their date. This feels wrong.” She watched as they laughed and smiled easily across the table from each other. Watched as they tenderly held each other’s hands, resting them next to their plates and napkins. It felt like watching a romantic drama, but she knew the actors.

“I knew it.” Rhysand’s voice pulled her from her haze.

“That’s Gwyn at the table behind them. I recognize her from the police station.” He said flatly

They watched, enraptured by the scene unfolding before them.

~~~~~~

“Az, sweetheart…do you know that woman?” Elain whispered, frightened.

She had been staring at them for several minutes, her large teal eyes unblinking. Her face neutral, but those eyes-they shone with malice.

Azriel turned to see who was making his girlfriend so uneasy- “LOOK OUT!”

Rhysand dashed across the street avoiding vehicles and bikes, Feyre right on his heels.

He tackled Azriel. “What the fuck, man?!” Azriel stood up, pushing his brother in the chest.

“It looked like she was reaching for a weapon!” Az followed his brother’s outstretched arm to finally notice Gwyn standing at the table behind them, her hand reaching inside her coat.

Gwyn’s eyes grew wide “No!” She finished pulling out her wallet to show everyone “I was sitting here long before Az and his girlfriend got here, but I wanted to apologize for the incident at the police station! I was gonna pay their bill!”

“Why did you look so angry, then” Elain asked, checking Azriel for any bumps or bruises from his brother’s tackle.

“I was just deep in thought..I’ve been told I have resting bitch face.” Gwyn glanced around the small group gathered and sighed.“I know you have no reason to trust me or even like me, but, can we please sit down and let me explain?”

Elain placed a gentle hand on Azriel’s arm. “I think we can do that, right?” She looked at him earnestly

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Have a seat.”

Rhysand, Feyre, and Gwyn pulled up chairs for themselves.

“Go on, It’s okay.” She gently said to the redhead.

Gwyn took a deep breath “Alright. Well.. Honestly, it starts when I was a kid. My mom, sister and I were kicked out of our community. Mom grew up sheltered and was very naive, and was taken advantage of-my twin sister, Catrin and I being the outcome..but when the community elders discovered not only were we born out of wedlock, but from a ‘forced joining’ (as they called it), she was considered impure and not allowed back.”

“Mom was lost. She never lived without her community and she longed for that kinship again..and when Cat and I were three, she found it. Unfortunately…it turned out to be a cult. Their teachings really fucked with my head. But what’s worse, mom and my sister..they started doubting the leader. So they were killed. I found them the next morning, and had a full on psychotic break.

I was only sixteen…found alone three days later in nothing but a slip, two hours from where I lived. No car, nothing. I have no clue how I got there to this day. But I received medical care, got on medication, and have been able to live a mostly normal, but quiet life.”

She looked to Azriel, “Our boss-Helion-he’s a good man. A good person, and he gave me a chance at a normal job that I enjoyed. He’s been aware of my mental issues since day one-I’m very open about them on job applications. Anyway, I ran into some financial trouble at home, between my student loans, and some issues at home (that my landlord refuses to fix) and couldn’t afford my meds..and I had another meltdown.”

“So I was just the person you latched on to?” Azriel asked thoughtfully

“Yeah.” She said bashfully “You were always nice to me when you came in the office.” Gwyn looked at Elain “Plus he’s hot, so, there’s that.” Elain nodded profusely while giggling.

Azriel flushed as she continued “I guess in my mixed up head that meant you were my boyfriend, and Jurian, the asshole that he is took advantage of my mental state and goaded me further. I’m so sorry, Azriel. I truly can’t tell you enough how sorry I am.”

“It’s okay, Gwyn. Now that I know what happened, I understand. You’re back on your medication now?” He needed to be sure she was okay.

“Yeah. Helion’s wife, Sergeant Otoño, has been kind enough to make sure I have enough until I’m able to afford them again, and they’ve been helping me with my financial issues.”

“I’m glad” he told her honestly.

Elain piped up “you know” she said more to herself than anyone else “I think you’d fit in with our friends pretty well. We all have tragic backstories-at the very least you’d be able to commiserate.” She gave Gwyn a warm smile. “I have the strangest feeling you and my sister, Nesta, would get along really well.”

The two women smiled fondly at one another before Gwyn stood.

“Thank you so much for your kindness, Azriel, Elain, and I’m sorry again for frightening everyone.” She laid down some cash on the table. “For your dinner. You two look happy together.”

“Keep it.” Az said. You can make it up to us by hanging out sometime. Maybe one of our weekly ‘framily’ dinners.”

“Thanks. I’d like that.” She began walking off, calling over her shoulder “I’ll see you around work sometime. It was nice to meet you all!”

“That was really sweet of you, Az” Elain gazed at him lovingly, leaning closer for a gentle kiss. Without turning her head, she pointed at Feyre and Rhysand who were carefully trying to extract themselves from the situation.

“You two” She growled, startling even Azriel. “I forgive you for the intrusion. I know you were simply worried about us. But next time, for Cauldron’s sake, please just call.”

~~~~~~

No cars were in the driveway, and only the living room lamp beside the couch left on. “I think your guilt trip worked” Azriel mused as they walked into the empty townhouse.

“It wasn’t a guilt trip.” Elain huffed, making her way toward the staircase. “Not intentionally anyway, but..I think you’re right.” Elain suddenly felt very nervous. She’d been wanting this time alone with him for days, but now… now she wasn’t sure.

“Do you-“ she said at the same time as his “what would-“ they both laughed anxiously.

“I feel like I’m sixteen again..bringing a girl home and having no clue what to do.” Az joked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m kind of feeling the same way. I- Azriel, I WANT to be physical with you.” She hadn’t turned around. Too scared that if she saw him she’s lose her nerve to speak.

He stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle. “Anything we do together is on your terms, baby. You tell me to stop, I will. No questions asked.”

“I know…” she fell silent. Enjoying the feel of his arms around her. “I’m just nervous…like a good nervous-for the most part at least..”

“Why don’t we just cuddle up, watch a movie or something, and see where things go naturally? And if it becomes too much, say the word and we’ll go back to cuddling.” He suggested. “Besides. I like holding you.” He smiled against her temple, pressing a gentle kiss to her skin.

A shaky hand held out behind her lead him up the staircase and into her room. It truly was like the first time again. They awkwardly sat next to each other on her bed while she fumbled around for her Roku remote.

It didn’t matter what she put on to watch, that tension filled the air. She settled for Bridgerton.

In an effort to ease some of the tension, Azriel placed his arm around her shoulders, lying back on the pillow with a hand behind his head. In his mind he thought it was silly, they’ve already kissed. He’s seen her topless. They’ve both been with other people before..Why were they acting so unsure of themselves now?

She slowly began to relax into him. First with her head on his shoulder. Her arm slid around his waist a few minutes later with Azriel’s falling from her shoulder to her hip. Not long after that she wasn’t even looking at the tv-her leg between his, halfway on top of him. Peppering small kisses along his jaw and neck drawing ragged breaths from him.

“Elain, love” his voice low and gravelly “you’re making it very hard to watch your show.” He was kneading the plush skin under his hand with every move she made, trying to restrain himself.

“I’m making it hard?” She teased, pulling away to look at him with hooded eyes, a tiny coy smile playing on the edge of her lips.

“Very.” He replied.

“Do you want me to make it harder?” She replied, biting her lip, as she moved to sit atop his lap.

Elain had never gone that far. She’d joke and make silly innuendos but that lust filled gaze and her raspy voice went far beyond kidding around. Azriel had no clue how far she wanted things to go. This was uncharted territory.

Her hands desperately searched for skin contact-reaching for the buttons on his shirt. He sat up and tore it off in one swift motion, tossing it aside. Her eyes grew more molten by the second as they roamed the wide breadth of his torso. Taking in every inch of black ink entwined with pink scars.

“You’re gorgeous.” She told him.

She leaned down pressing light kisses to every scar. Tracing her tongue along the ink. He knew she could feel him growing harder under her. He ached against his jeans, but refused to buck up against her. Not yet.

Elain sat up, pulling her shirt over her head. He reached around her back, undoing the clasp of her bra in one snap. “You’re gonna have to teach me that trick” she giggled as she tossed it in their growing pile of clothing.

He brought her face to his own, erupting in a bruising kiss. In an Instant he had flipped them over, trailing wet kisses along her throat down to her breasts.

“May I?” He asked. She had barely nodded yes before he his mouth was on her. Running his tongue in circles around her soft bud, bringing it to a peak around the steel before gently nipping with his teeth. She bucked against him in response. “You like that baby?” He laughed in surprise

He did the same to the other one-Sucking and licking to make it hard and softly grazing his teeth. She bucked again, letting out a soft moan.

Azriel began kissing down her body once again, stopping just above her leggings with his fingers hooked into the elastic. He looked up at her, her eyes half closed in pleasure. “Remember, my love: say the word and I stop. Don’t force yourself to do anything.”

She pulled him back to her locking him into a fierce, passionate kiss. She pulled away, looking him in the eyes “I trust you. I’ll tell you if we need to change tactics.”

That was all he needed. He returned to his position, pulling her leggings down. His eyes never straying from her own, watching for any indication it was too much. He finally looked down…to see she was bare.

He groaned with need. “No panties, Lain? He asked in disbelief. Her breathing becoming more ragged, her smooth sex glistening with arousal.

“I had hoped this would happen.” She admitted shyly.

“Tell me what you want, love.” He said as he began suckling her thigh, closer and closer to her gleaming center.

“I..I’ve never..” her cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

Azriel couldn’t help the slight edge in his voice “You were together for almost two years… and he never tasted you?!“ he asked incredulously. “No one has?”

She shook her head.

“Do you want me to?”

She nodded.

“No. I need to hear it baby.” He needed to be sure.

“Please” her voice barely above a whisper “Please eat my pussy.”

He huffed a laugh to himself, his male pride and desire thrumming through him. Positioning himself between her thighs, he drug his tongue between her folds with a broad stroke “Fuck.” he groaned. She instantly became his favorite drug, her taste intoxicating.

That first taste snapped the last tether of his restraint. He feasted. Lips and tongue working in tandem; He was a man starved, and she his personal buffet.

The sounds coming from her were absolutely sinful-The moans of pleasure, squeals of delight a melody backed by the rhythmic obscene squelches coming from her dripping core. It became a song he longed to hear on repeat. She tangled a brazen hand in his hair, holding him in place as she began writhing against him. He hummed in satisfaction knowing he was the first, the only, man to have her this way-free and unashamed of chasing her release.

Cautiously, he brought a hand up beside his face, wanting to draw every ounce of pleasure from her until she was a boneless heap before him. She felt a digit graze against her passage and her eyes shot open.

“Wait.” He stopped everything, looking up in concern.

“Not there.” She swallowed audibly. “L-lower.” She held her breath as she stared at him anxiously; Clearly anticipating a negative reaction.

“With pleasure.” He felt his cock twitch at her demand, absolutely positive he had never been this hard in his life.

He began working her center again. Taking long stokes further and further down until his tongue grazed her back entrance. He watched her face as she allowed herself to enjoy the sensations of his mouth on her.

He rose back to her pussy, fucking her with his tongue as he slowly eased his finger into her ass, gently loosening the tight hole. Another gush of arousal poured from her as he began fingering her in earnest. Her grip on his hair tightened.

“Az-fuck! M’close” her nonsensical moans grew louder and louder. She began fucking herself on his face and hand, writhing against him. With one last flat stoke against her clit, he felt her begin to clench, screaming out his name as wave after wave wracked through her. He lapped up every bit, unwilling to waste a drop.

He only withdrew his finger once she’d come down from her high eliciting a small whimper. “Holy shit.” Was all she said as she fought to catch her breath.

“Are you okay, Lain?” He asked as he laid down beside her, scooping her into his arms.

“I’ve never cum that hard in my life. I’m fucking amazing.” She turned toward him, kissing him passionately. The taste of herself on his lips sent a new gush of arousal through her core. She pulled back to look him in the eyes, her own gleaming wickedly “And now it’s your turn my love.”

She noticed the apprehension on his face. “Trust me. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t want to do it.” She kissed him again. “Now take off your pants, mister.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice. He stood up, making quick work of his pants and boxer briefs until he stood bare before her.

Her eyes grew wide as they took in his member. Not one to brag, but Azriel knew he was large-All of the women he’d been with found him difficult to take.

“Azriel” his eyes were immediately on hers. “I won’t lie to you and say I’m not nervous. Obviously I haven’t done anything with a partner since..him. But I used to enjoy this and I’d like to try with you..”

“I’m happy to be your test subject” he teased. She rolled her eyes at him. “That’s not-“

“I know that’s not what you meant.” His face softened “Elain. I am yours, completely. In every way imaginable. I want to see you grow stronger and more comfortable in your skin…and sexuality. I want to grow with you; we’re learning together.”

She stood up and kissed him gently. “I love you so much, Azriel.”

“I love you too, Elain.”

She playfully pushed him away from her, a mischievous glint in her eyes. He watched her curiously while she fell to her knees in front of him.

“If I tap your leg once, I want you to take over.” She said matter of factly. He still wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“If I tap it once again after you take over, I want you to thrust harder. And if I tap twice in a row, I want you to stop.”

She looked up at him, full of trust. She was laying herself a different kind of bare- Allowing him into her wants and needs; learning her rules.

She leaned forward on her knees, grabbing his length by the base. Her small hand courts hardly fit all the way around.

She licked along his shaft, collecting the bead of liquid at the tip. Placing her lips around his glistening head she began bobbing, taking more in her mouth each pass. She looked up at him from under her lashes, catching the glassy eyed look on Azriel’s face.

His head lulled back as she took more of him into her mouth. His eyes closed. A hand gripped her hair to ground himself. The feel of her soft lips around him-the look of her hollowed out cheeks as she sucked was almost more than he could take. She hummed in satisfaction when he hit the back of her throat. “Fuck, baby. You take my cock so fucking good.” He moaned.

It spurred her on more. She pushed past the edge of her throat taking him farther. No one had ever deep throated him. She grabbed the back of his thighs forcing him down further and further until her nose was buried in the patch of hair above the base of his cock.

She tapped his leg. He looked down at her wide eyed. “You’re sure?” She looked up at him nodding as much as she could. “I-I’ll start slow.” He agreed, nervously-terrified of hurting her.

True to his word he started slowly thrusting into her mouth. Keeping about the same pace she had. She tapped him again and he started fucking her throat harder, nerves dissipating watching her cheeks hollow. “Fuck you look gorgeous like this. You like having my cock all the way down your throat?” She hummed in agreement. “I’ve never had anyone able to take me fully. It’s like your body was made for mine.”

She hummed again sending shivers up his spine. He wasn’t going to last much longer. She reached between her legs with one hand, rubbing small circles on her clit. “You like this too, baby? Come for me again. I want you to cum with my cock down your throat.”

With her free hand, she tapped him on the leg once more, urging him to thrust even harder. He held her head in place as he did so. His balls slapping against her chin. “Fuck, Lain. I’m close. I’m-“ she grabbed his ass pushing him as far as he could go until he came down her throat.

She released him with a small pop, falling back on her heels.

He kneeled down in front of her “Is your throat okay, Lain?” Genuine concern on his face.

She smiled lazily, still coming down from her own high. “I’m okay. Just need some water.” She rasped. “Are you? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

This woman. He shook his head, smiling back. “No, baby. Far, far from it.” He kissed her softly “I’ll go get you some water. Let your throat rest, okay? And I’ll ask you about those sexy little requests you made later.” He winked, holding back a chuckle at the sudden flush of embarrassment dusting her cheeks.

@karomdr-blog @mis-lil-red

#elriel #elriel fanfic #heavy hearts

17 notes · View notes

toonabby · 11 months

Text

Today marks the 5th anniversary of Zuzubaland, also known as Zuzubalândía in Brazil. For context, Zuzubaland is a Brazilian animated series created by Mariana Caltabiano. The series was based on the book Jujubalândía, published in 1997, and serves as a reboot of the children's live-action series of the same name, which premiered on April 13, 1998, making that series 25 at the time of this post. The show revolves around Zuzu, a cute little bee girl who lives in the titular world of Zuzubaland/Zuzubâlandía (in the original book, it was called Jujubalândía) along with all her friends and dreams about being a famous singer in spite of her ear-grating voice. Zuzubaland is a kingdom ruled by King Appetite where everything is made out of food, right down to the character names being puns of the food they represent (e.g. Marsha Mallow is a pun on "marshmallow"). The main antagonist is the Green Witch (or Anorexic Witch in some sources, but I would prefer to call her "Greenhilda" - a portmanteau on "green" (her skin color) and the name "Brunhilda"), who hates food, joy and Zuzu's singing and wants to destroy Zuzubaland. But the only way to break the magic of the grandmothers that protects the kingdom is to get the magic crown that King Appetite keeps under a lock and key. Garfedia is her assistant, but she isn't really malicious as she's somewhat ineffectual but kind; she has a doll she keeps every day called Kellen. She also has a bad habit of farting (albeit unintentionally) when she laughs a lot. (source: Wikipedia PT)

Funnily enough is that this wouldn't be the first time we would see Zuzu and friends in animated form: Gui e Estopa was another animated series created by Mariana Caltabiano originally launched in 2000 as a children's website called Iguinho, with the mascot being a puppy of the same name (at least initially). He is best friends with Estopa (a dog), is in love with Croquette the beautiful, and has a rivarly with Pitiburro. A series of films were made before finally becoming a cartoon in 2009 that aired on Cartoon Network. They even have an official YouTube channel. (source: Wikipedia PT)

youtube

A crossover episode simply titled "Zuzubalândia" was released on July 20, 2016, two years before Zuzubaland premiered. Unfortunately its only available in Portuguese without subtitles (or at least the English subtitles) and I don't know much about the episode's plot other than it being a proposed pilot for Zuzubaland. But if I want to summarize this plot, it's basically Gui having a dream about going to Zuzubaland alongside Estopa. I also forgot to mention that it also had a musical in 2013, though I could only find one image of that one.

While this show, and by extension franchise, is hardly well-known in the West, it didn't stop Zuzubaland from having it's own YouTube Channel AND official English dub by none other than Bang Zoom! Entertaiment!

The English dub is not only easily my favorite EN dubs of Brazilian cartoons next to Ba Da Bean (both recorded by the same studio), but it also introduced me to the series. The cast includes Dino Andrade as Zuzu, Aleks Le as Sundae, Amber Connor as Popcorn, Zeno Robinson as Rocky, Joe J. Thomas as Hot Dog, Ryan Bartley as Marsha, and Jason Marnocha as King Appetite, but I think the best performance hands down would have to be Wendee Lee (the titular character from Haruhi Suzumiya, Konata Izumi from Lucky Star, Faye Valetine from Cowboy Bebop, Blanc/White Heart from Hyperdimension Neptunia, and Lyn and Veronica from Fire Emblem) as The Green Witch, whose loud-mouth, nasally Wicked Witch-esque voice perfectly suits her character. In fact, I first noticed this while looking at Lee's BTVA page. I was honestly shocked knowing that she has the same voice actors as Blanc and Faye. And for the cherry on top, it has an official website (albeit in Portuguese). The website includes characters pages, video clips, games, comic strips, art, online books, music etc., so at least isn't completely obscure online unlike other South American cartoons (*cough* Underdogs United *cough*). Mariana Caltabiano also has her own official website deticated to herself and her cartoons.

In conclusion, Zuzubaland is and forever will be my favorite Brazilian cartoon of the 2010s and my favorite Brazilian cartoon of all time (Ba Da Bean is a close second). Thank you for reading this post, and if you are a fan of Brazilian cartoons, did you watch it (in English or its original Portuguese language) and whats your opinion of this underrated foreign cartoon.

#zuzubaland #zuzubâlandía #gui e estopa #zuzubalandia

3 notes · View notes

0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 years

Text

Something wicked this way comes! - Just A Taste (Harryween One Shot)

A sneak peak for a little Halloween one shot!

“OK. Are you gonna stay home?” Y/N asked him.

“Yeah.” He mumbled and she nodded and she leaned in to kiss the top of his head and he stiffened up a bit, which was strange, but she just let it go.

“I love you, I’ll call at lunch OK? See if you need anything.” She said sweetly and he just nodded.

After a few minutes she was gone and Harry sat up and rubbed at his eyes, this had to be a fucked up dream of some sort. What he told her was the truth, he had been feeling weird and now he felt like did after a vigorous cardio session, he felt like his limbs were jello, almost as if he were dehydrated or starved. And for some reason when she had leaned in to kiss him, with her neck right up near his nose, he could smell her and almost hear the blood flowing through her veins, it made his mouth water and it scared him.

It had bee happening the last few days actually. Since they went out to the flea market. That night she had made them steak fajitas for dinner and just seeing her massaging the seasoning into the meat made his stomach growl in delight. He passed it off as hunger as they had only shared some fries at the flea market and he was quite literally starved. But then the next day at their bookstore one of their employees cut himself with the box cutter and when Harry rushed over to help he found that he could smell his blood and as he hurriedly wrapped a napkin around his finger and the blood started to soak into it his mouth watered. He had an urge to just wring out the napkin and taste the blood. He had to call in Y/N to help because that wasn’t normal. Later that night in cycling class he could hear the blood pumping hard and fast through everyone’s veins. Their quickened pulses were like a siren song to him, he wanted to get up close to someone and hear their heart pounding away. Then the next morning while he was shaving he nicked himself lightly above his lip and without thinking he reached his tongue up to lick up the blood that bordered his lip and it tasted so good. He did it a couple times before he decided that he just needed the bleeding to stop and not perpetuate it, but it was a little bit hard to stop. After that little taste his mouth felt dry all the time despite him hydrating, he would only salivate when he smelled blood.

He was scared to tell Y/N, his fiancé about this, how would she react?

#harry styles #harryween #harry styles one shot #harry styles sneak peek

10 notes · View notes

fountainpenguin · 11 months

Note

Top insp songs for characters? I know you did a 100-song playlist once but I was wondering if you had to narrow to just one song per character, and if any of those had changed over the years :)

Yeah, here are some of my faves :) Some might be familiar if you've been around my blog for long enough, others might be new. "Long post" tag is on this as usual if you need to block that.

This doesn't really match a specific character, but I like the song "Dirty Paws" for FOP 'fics, especially in regards to the war between Fairies and Anti-Fairies from the "Balance of Flour" episode. The song opens with a war between bees and birds because "the sky wasn't big enough for them all." Then it says the birds turned to get help from the wolves, and the wolf queen charges in with her forces and takes down "The queen bee and her men."

I love because it mirrors the way I portray the war in my 'fics, right down to the way that the Pixies get dragged into it despite trying to remain neutral, and I just really like that soft "And that's how the story goes" at the end of the song, as if no outsiders can really understand what truly happened. Not only that, but it even specifies "The story of that beast with those four dirty paws" when the song earlier claimed it was a story "about the birds and the bees." I like the implication that people remember history in different ways and I just think it's a nice inspiration song for the war chapters of my backstory 'fics.

Cosmo - "Bird Song" - Florence + The Machine - /shrug. To me this is a big Cosmo and Juandissimo song. My take on Cosmo's backstory involves a lot of secrets, and I like playing with those deleted lines of dialogue from "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary" where Juandissimo tells Remy that he only fears one fairy and it's Cosmo. He also specifically describes Cosmo as "Wanda's warrior husband" and "as a cunning and calculating foe." I wish they would have kept that dialogue, because it's freaking hilarious to imagine Juandissimo cowering in Cosmo's presence skldjf.

FOP lore hints that Cosmo is extremely powerful, but only when he snaps (such as in "Wishology" when he turns himself into Cos-zilla and summons one million wands). However, Fairy World mostly regards him as a bumbling idiot, implying they're not afraid of him as long as nothing sets him off. I like to imagine Juandissimo has seen Cosmo's dark side... and he didn't like it.

In several episodes, Wanda openly flirts with Juandissimo or fawns over him (Wanda poofing Juandissimo into the room so he would swoon over her while she cooked bacon, Wanda blatantly telling Cosmo that she was having a lovely dream about her ex and chocolate), but Cosmo doesn't seem too threatened. He even flat-out says he'd tell Juandissimo to leave Wanda alone and the only reason he doesn't is because he likes eating the gifts he sends her kljsdf. Cosmo also harasses Juandissimo regularly, once even locking him in the freezer, and Juandissimo doesn't seem to want to mess with him. "Bird Song" fits this vibe of "Cosmo has a dark side and no one really takes him seriously except Juandissimo, who witnessed it and has been terrified ever since." Love that.

Wanda - "Mine" - Taylor Swift. It's the quintessential Cosmo and Wanda song for me, right down to "You were in college working part-time waiting tables... left a small town, never looked back!" It's even got a few bumps in the road like "And I remember that fight, 2:30 AM... I ran out crying..." C'mon, this song was made for them.

Poof - "Popular" - Wicked. It's really hard to pick just one for Poof. If I were to pick one single song to describe him as a character, I'd say "Puff the Magic Dragon" because it's about an imaginary dragon whose child grows up and doesn't need him anymore, and that's big Poof vibes.

But for an inspiration song that feels right for my take on him, I'd absolutely throw in "Popular" from Wicked. Every time I hear it, I imagine him singing it to Foop and listing off H.P. and Jorgen as "Celebrated heads of state or especially great communicators! Did they have brains or knowledge? Don't make me laugh! They were popular!" while Foop stares into the void listening to this random suburban kid mansplain popularity to a prince, sldkjf.

One of my big inspiration songs for Poof is "Showdown" from the Big Fish musical, but that's incredibly specific to my plot arcs so I was hesitant to list it as a main insp song. Specifically, about 1:35 into the song where the son is challenging his father about the secrets of his past... while the chorus starts singing "You get a trial!" I imagine Cosmo just turning around with slowly dawning horror as the room around him transforms into the Fairy Court room and Poof stands coldly across from him, demanding answers.

All the dialogue that follows, like "You can't undo the things that you'd prefer be undone... You can never change the past, though it may haunt every breath" and "Really, son, I don't know what you think you're trying to prove" works REALLY well for my Cosmo portrayal. We'll get to see more hints of that in 'fics pretty soon, ha ha oh no.

I like to imagine Jorgen filling the role of judge in this song, particularly with Cosmo staring up at him and whispering "Oh, come on, doc... Aww, how long have you and me been friends?" Yeah that's major Cosmo and Jorgen vibes right there.

Sanderson [+ Poof] - The Company Way - How to Succeed In Business Without Really Trying - This always gives me major Poof and Sanderson vibes (during the story arc where Poof gets a job at Pixies Inc.)

"But what is your point of view?" "I have no point of view."

"Supposing the company thinks-" "I think so too."

"Uh, what would you say if-?" "I wouldn't say."

slkdjf that's totally Poof and Sandy this arc. One of my other Sanderson favorites is "Loser of the Year" (Simple Plan) which is about a rich guy singing about how there's no point in spending money if you're lonely, which fits my Sanderson portrayal well.

Goldie - "Ex's and Oh's" - Elle King - Ugh, there are so many good ones. I enjoy Goldie drama, nothing more lovely than a poor girl with harm OCD beating herself up over how she might hurt the people she loves but also trying to balance that with the fact that she deserves to be happy and also balancing that with political expectations as the will o' the wisp ambassador :'D

I picked "Ex's and Oh's" because it's hard to get something more fitting for teen Goldie than "Now there's one in California who's been cursing my name 'cuz I found me a better lover in the UK" when she's see-sawing between her attraction for Poof and Foop, wheeze... Oh, Dimmsdale canonically being located in California is cruel. Another of my Goldie favorites is “Good Girls” (5 Seconds of Summer).

Chloe - “A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into” - Be More Chill. This one's just for me... it captures the vibe I envision for her life very well. Chloe does NOT get along with Kevin in show canon, from screaming at him in his debut to outright wishing to take his hall monitor position in "Chloe Rules," but this... this is a middle school / high school Crockermichael ship song when she's starting to come around.

Kevin, even though he's dead inside, is a sweetheart who likes to invent stuff and they have a lot in common, like their tense relationships with their parents and the way that the rest of the town judges them based on who their uncles are [Crocker for Kevin and Dinkleberg for Chloe in my 'verse]. Love that for her.

"Reflection" from Disney's Mulan is also a good one for introspective vibes, though canon Chloe does struggle to calm down enough for that to suit her perfectly, methinks.

Anti-Cosmo - “Anything For You” - Ludo. I could pick several good ones out for A.C. but this is definitely a fave. It fits my 'fic Frayed Knots very well, especially with stuff like "I have crossed a natural plane and communed with the dead" which fits a lot of the nature spirit vibes we'll see later, or "I've picked up rocks from distant moons" which clicks with the Doombringer subplot. I even started an animatic storyboard for this song a few years ago, I know I have those sketches somewhere and I should post them.

I also really like the lines "I've gotten drunk and shot the breeze with kings of far-off lands, they showed me wealth as far as I could see [...] and they cried with jealousy when I leaned in and told them about you." I feel like that captures the relationship between Anti-Cosmo and H.P. REALLY well. H.P. will always toss A.C. a soda and show off Pixie World, but once A.C. gets his happy marriage with Anti-Wanda, that's a heavy blow to the pixie. Their friendship survives it but boy does it sting him.

After "Anything For You," I think I'd have to go for some of my favorite Vocaloids like "I'm Glad That You're Evil Too" and "Bad Apple." Those are big A.C. vibes too.

Also "Rasputin" (Boney M.) and Poisoning Pigeons in the Park" (Tom Lehrer). Those are excellent too.

Anti-Wanda - “Floorfiller” - The A-Teens - This is a peppy party song but it's always had a weird, chilling vibe for me, especially with lines like, "Something's out of order, people in the corners" and "See, the name of the game is to play crowd pleaser!" It just always makes me think of Anti-Wanda, who's my gal who loves to dance and party, who goes out of her way to please crowds, but she'll also mess you up.

This is also the song I used when uploading the 'fic announcement for Part 3 of "This Is Halloween," where Anti-Wanda confronted the Darkness with nothing more than a golden sponge. That was fun.

Foop - "World's Smallest Violin" - AJR - This is one of my favorite Foop songs right now...

"I can't even finish school! Missed my mom and left too soon."

"I think I bored my therapist while playing him my violin."

"I know I'm not there mentally, but you could be the remedy"

"So if I do not find somebody soon, I'll blow up into smithereens... just let me play my violin for you!"

It's a good one for Foop :)

Anti-Marigold - “Does He Love You?” - Rilo Kiley - Yeah, picking one out for Anti-Marigold (Goldie's counterpart) isn't even a question for me. I hate to say it but "Does He Love You?" fits her to a T... It's got perfect lines like "A married man, he visits me" and "I guess it all worked out" and "Your husband will never leave you for me."

I adore the Anti-Marigold arc. It doesn't really hit until the end of the 130 Prompts but... :'D Oooh boy. Storm's coming.

Kevin Crocker - "Aliens Exist" - Blink-182 - This one could also work for Denzel because it's a Crocker song in general, but I love it for Kevin specifically.

Denzel Crocker- "Almost" (Bowling For Soup) - This one always makes me think of Crocker on the decline throughout his teens and young adulthood, just having a hard time and struggling with his life.

H.P. - “Chomp and Munch” - The Brave Little Toaster: Great Animal Rescue - I have a lot of H.P. songs and it's hard to only talk about one, but "Chomp and Munch" is an eternal favorite. It's all about once being in your prime but then slowly falling apart and it's so good. This was also my all-time favorite movie as a kid and I watched it a million times, plus I still can't get through Radio's sacrifice scene without crying, so I love this movie and I love that I get an H.P. song <3

"Chomp and munch, chew and crunch, there's a lot here to destroy! Inch by inch, it's a cinch, bringing down this big old boy..."

Another H.P. favorite is "Grow Up" by Simple Plan because it's about a loud, bratty kid who just wants to live his life and have fun, and if this comes as a shock to you since H.P. belongs to an anti-fun species, you need to look again at his character /lh

"Hanging out with all my friends and never being at home! I'm impolite and I make fun of everyone! I'm immature, but I will stay this way forever. Until the day I die, I promise I won't change!"

Gary - “Egoselfish” - (Vocaloid; Miku-tan's cover is the one I'm familiar with) - Ugh I could roll around flopping on the floor infodumping about Gary forever, I love his crumbling heart. "Egoselfish" will eternally be my go-to Gary song and if you've been following me for long enough then you may have seen me sketch him to it a couple times.

The line "I'm doing this all for you!" followed by the more snarky, question mark'd response "'I'm doing this all for me?' Dare say that about our love, and mister, I'll have to do away with you..." hits so hard. That's major Gary vibes. He builds this very twisted idea in his head that he needs to "save" Betty after the Pixies wipe her memories in the 130 Prompt "Solo", and every time he shows up after that he's layering guilt on himself as a way to cover up the fact that he feels like Betty betrayed him... He wants to "save her" and make things "the way they used to be" and he'll do anything for her.

"Love is what so captivates us, yet this 'love' at time leads to 'loathing...'" / "In the end we're still just fine to keep on smiling all the time!" / "I'm doing this all for me.... Well, doing it both for us... I'm going to hide my face and cry my eyes out..." It's so Gary. So good.

I have a lot of good Gary songs, including "Shut Up and Dance" (Walk the Moon), "Sad Song" (We the Kings") and "Light 'Em Up" (Fall Out Boy). He's just this big, emotionally charged character and he feels things very deeply, he's very fun to play with. But "Egoselfish" will always be #1 Gary song in my heart.

Betty - “He Likes Boys” - Simone Battle - There are other good Betty songs I like for insp, like "Human" (Christina Perri), but "He Likes Boys" is probably my top Betty Mindset song. In canon she makes a point of telling Gary she "doesn't like him like that" and his response is "But I need to be held" and I like to think that Betty liked him for a long time and enjoyed hugs, but then started drawing lines because he wasn't reciprocating her feelings and it started hurting her. She finds herself unable to show him the same closeness that she used to, but she still loves and respects him as a good friend.

"Human" fits present-day 130 Prompts Betty better, but "He Likes Boys" fits the younger Betty in Pink and Gray a lot because she grows up with this innocent little belief that Gary will be Her Forever Partner, but she never actually communicates this to him and so he thinks their relationship is just professional. It's awkward for both of them, but Betty keeps trying to tamp down her feelings and express her love and friendship to him. And that works great! ... until she starts dating Pete and getting ready to move in with him, and then they have to decide to cut ties... yikes.

/whispers loudly Gary is actually aro/ace as all heck but he doesn't know what that means because it's the 90s / early 2000s and also I don't know a song about that. (If you were ever curious, some people think he's dating Talon because Talon has a human disguise and hangs out with Gary, they work on bikes together. Anti-Cosmo thinks Gary's dating Vicky- long story and we'll get to that later. I love Club "Redheads Who Didn't Get Mind-Wiped.")

Anyway those are some I wanted to share today, thanks for asking!

#Long post #FAIRIES!#ridwriting #Dragonfly parents #playlist #130 Prompts #Rebellious golden child #Purple hippie dragonfly #Gary and Betty #Big Crock #Little Crock #Nerdy blue bat son #The bat with the hat #The best bat queen #I'm wasp dad trash #Burnet moth queen

3 notes · View notes

theoriginalladya · 1 year

Text

I posted 3,524 times in 2022

412 posts created (12%)

3,112 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mtreebeardiles

@theoriginalladya

@shadoedseptmbr

@hunnybadgerv

I tagged 3,487 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#mass effect - 1,022 posts

#kaidan alenko - 709 posts

#nature - 615 posts

#landscape - 561 posts

#photo - 533 posts

#mshenko - 410 posts

#commander shepard - 344 posts

#ladya writes - 267 posts

#fic recommendation - 213 posts

#reblog - 199 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#once in a very blue moon i will get my first name spelled right and then it usually shocks me so badly i need to sit for a minute! lol

My Top Posts in 2022:

(commissioned art of Caleb Shepard by the fabulous @dr-vauclair-art)

In an effort to try and stir the muses awake in Caleb's ME/WWII crossover world, I've been combing through some prompt lists to see what provokes them. From the 100 Ways to Say I Love You list:

Series: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Work: Keep To the West

Chapter 7: It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway." (Read in full on AO3)

Snippet:

The glass-paned windows rattled sharply as the wind whipped against them startling Kaidan from restless slumber. Blinking through the dark, the threads of sleep reluctant to release him to the waking world, he yawned. Something stirred in his mind – part memory, part dream, yet a reminder of something that was – and he rolled to his other side, content to slip back into unconsciousness. As tired as he was from the last mission, it was easy to give in, and he nearly had until his arm met emptiness instead of the warmth of the body he expected.

He's gone…isn’t he? Lost over the side of –

Bolting upright, a surge of adrenaline raced through him, seeking and finding the weak spots within. Panic, icy and unrelenting, chilled him to the bone and all thoughts of sleep fled. The bedding fell in a tangled pool around his waist, restraining him, and his heart thumped wildly in his chest. It took long moments for calm to return, for memories to sort, for reality to stake its claim once more.

Shepard…alive, returned, safe…

A soft whimper broke free of his chest and escaped his lips. So much had happened, it was difficult to discern truth and reality from the nightmares that had haunted him for months.

It wasn’t just a dream…was it? Shepard is alive…?

Read in full on AO3 here

40 notes - Posted May 30, 2022

Had the Humblebi pattern come across my dash recently and I decided to make a gift for a friend's daughter who likes bees. Fiddled with gauge and yarn (worsted weight (Red Heart Gold) and size 9 needles) to make it a bit bigger, but it knit up like a dream. I've never done a bottom-up knit before, and aside from the struggle of counting out to make sure I had enough stitches at the beginning, it was fun! Might have to make one for myself now! :)

41 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

and...voila! One Starry Night cake of yarn. The darker color bled a bit during the wash and the lighter colors aren't so bright now, but it still looks really good! Can't wait to have a chance to knit this up!

42 notes - Posted August 31, 2022

(top picture: Serafina MacKinnon and Alistair Theirin)

(bottom picture: Serafina and her twin, Sean)

Was thinking about my girl earlier today, and decided to stare at the lovely art that @xla-hainex did for me for a while.

Really hoping this means she's prepared to start talking to me again so I can get back to her story over in Dragon Age. She and her twin, Sean, have a LOT to share, and if I can finally get that done, then I might be able to get back to the two of them over in Mass Effect.

45 notes - Posted August 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Happy Birthday, Commander Shepard!

See the full post

105 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #oh my #it's great to see which ones were my top posts!#Especially since this latter part of the year I've been gone so much with the move and moving in

4 notes · View notes

mandssisters · 1 year

Text

Brizzle innit 22.11.22

“By any means possible” A train taking the strain today. Across two counties. Wiltshire into Avon. Bristol. Love Brizzle.

After the storms of yesterday today we got lucky with the skies, they were blue again. Whilst waiting for the train at Salisbury on a cold but sunny platform I got the step count up for the day to 3,500 before boarding. Result. And didn’t buy a hot chocolate to compensate for the cold. Joe Wicks would be proud of me.

An easy 78 mins on the train. A short walk from the station to the des res Ho e clearly the Ibis budget doesn’t stretch to T’s and L’s.

I needed chips. What better way to enjoy them than in a Wetherspoons! Living the dream. Now I had a real fan girl moment, I got right up close and personal with …….. a real life pair of Gromit and Shaun the sheep sculptures. Trip already made! #suchafan Bristol been the home of Aardman animations.

Right let’s cut to the chase. The venue. Google maps did show me what to expect. And it didn’t disappoint. WOW. An idiot could have walked past quite easily and thought it was a disused warehouse….. I mean idiot. 😉

The marble factory. ((Stone cut marble not the glass ball variety.)) Back in the day I bet this place was amazing? But right now it was opposite a building site which was once an industrial estate and even the ATS Tyre shop google maps had promised me had closed!! The only location highlight was a Vegan Cafe called Future in the railway arches which sold the best donuts in town. £10 for 3 well spent.

#homersimpsoneatyourheartout

Met the very lovely Evie in the queue. from Wales…… saw Marcus at Cardiff last night so was still buzzing. Queue time passed quickly.

Motion as I’m going to give it its proper name (the marble factory) is a night club and hanger warehouse. It was pretty cool inside capacity around 1200. All standing but some balcony standing. A real hidden gem.

Monica was back. She gave a very honest set against all the odds. She was so funny. I think one too many strepsils, lemsips, paracetamols may have been taken! There was so much rambling it was fun to watch. Great work Monica. You pulled it off.

To the show.

Ooooooooh new shirt. Tweed shirt and are they called “baggies” where is seeing bees 🐝 Patrick Grant when you need him!

Opening with Awake my soul, the cave.

Banter:

Came in the form of Football.

Last nights gig in Wales not being able to announce the score as 2 blokes had “saved” the game to watch later!!

I would appear that we had “Miss Wales” in the audience as at various times ramblings were shouted! And Marcus joked at the end that for “I will wait “ Miss Wales needed to keep quiet.

Every song is about footy…

From the balcony gods came a very sweet “shout” of “it’s coming home”!!

Marcus even joked that

“Exeter being a shit show” quiet literally!! He recapped how he got a stripping down about his use of bad potty mouth language from a friends dad. Who questioned the need of the word FUCK? It’s only a good job he didn’t get carried away with “c*nt”.

Post shows, Taylor Mackall ace musician, comments about the performance of Only Child most nights and critiques the 50% of cords Marcus gets right during the average performance of only child! Harsh.

Sadly we didn’t get to see the wonderful Monica onstage for Go in Light, as he insisted she gets well for her main performance. As she isn’t in TIP TOP form!!

After the fake end of show, and encore, another fab rendition of Cowboy, with added burp slurp! Apparently within the tea cup was tonic water most nights, but tonight it’s tea but has the same effect.

Then off piste from the set list we were in for a treat. 6 mins of bliss. Marcus’s favourite song “not dark yet” by the one and only Bob Dylan. Loved this. What a real treat. At the end the slight boast that the next one was written with Bob, although he wasn’t actually there!! WIGMHOY.

Too soon it was off mic I will wait. The crowd very respectful. Miss Wales did wales proud.

I waved a sad goodbye to band as they won’t be with Marcus for leg 3 in stores next week. Going to miss them they are so tight. Marcus’s voice just gets better and better each night. Vs mine which can barely speak atm without coughing!!! What a total joy these dates have been. Over too soon.

Today. Enjoying life with a walking tour of Banksy street art and a trip on the S S Great Britain in the dry dock. Well worth a trip, fascinating engineering and fantastic recreation of sea travels circa 1840s. What a visionary Isambard Kingdom Brundel was. And a great Ambassador of the top hat.

#mumford and sons #marcus mumford #Bristol motion #marble factory #bristol

3 notes · View notes

creepy-crowleys · 2 years

Text

An oily black tendril tore from the floor, shattering the tile around it as it wrenched Marquard’s arm back and sent the bomb and detonator skittering across the floor. New shapes twisted from the darkness - wicked claws, a toothy maw - it was all Crowley saw before she leapt at the distraction to get her feet under her and tear herself free of Berihun’s hold. The metal fingers of the cobbled together Third Age prosthetic tore new grooves in her scalp as Berihun roared after her, torn between chasing her down and attempting to protect Marquard from whatever monster John had conjured.

It was a hectic run. Tile and stone cracked and broke loose from the ceiling, liquid filth dripping from the openings and pooling in the widening cracks between tiles that shifted underfoot.

Crowley’s fingers only just managed to graze the bomb’s metal casing when a solid weight slammed into her from behind once more, sending both bouncing hard across the floor away from it. Rolling back onto her feet, Crowley was whirling on her assailant before she even knew what hit her. And paused.

An ordinary guard writhed on the floor beside her, bleeding out from a twisted black spike like a gnarled branch embedded in their gut. Beyond them, in the direction they’d come from, a dragon raged, head split down the middle and tearing at each other as much as Marquard and his guard, wreathed in jagged spikes of wood and dense thorny vines like so many creatures this strain of the Filth had preserved.

Well. Dragons were meant to be extinct too, weren’t they?

Crowley put a somber round in the agonized guard’s head amidst their fevered prayers to the Lucid Dream and terrible howls and screams of the monsters behind them. Only a short distance away, the bomb teeterd closer to the Engine in the chaos. Crowley broke after it, skirting tiles that disappeared into the abyss and puddles of dark that grabbed at her legs to pull her under.

This time the heavy swing directed at her head went high, displaced air rustling what little hair wasn’t matted by her own blood as she cut low beneath it, pivoted hard and drove her shoulder deep into the space where Berihun’s kidney should be. The shell of the man howled at the pistol pressed against his side, the rounds managing to burn even where they couldn’t penetrate the reinforced dreamflesh before he forced the stubborn Bee away - a mistake he caught too late as she immediately redirected back towards the explosive, shoes and fingers scrabbling for purchase on the Filth-slick tile.

Diving and clawing after the rogue bomb, Crowley’s fingers grazed the surface of the Filthy explosive once more and, this time, managed to close her hand around it. Vicious whispers resonated from within, like needles burrowing deep into her bruised and battered mind.

She could do it. She could set the bomb off, break open the Engine and usher in a new age, be a god like she’d been promised so long ago. The world was dying regardless. Would it really matter? Did the Buzzing really deserve another world to drive into ruin? New Dreamers to bind into slavery? She could change things. They could prove it. She just had to-

An iron grip wrapped around Crowley’s ankle and dragged her back. Pins and needles crawled up her leg at the touch. “You,” Berihun hissed. “You will not escape judgment for what you have done to me. I will-”

His nose crunched under her heel and, where that failed to get him to release her, the spear of heated stone she called from the floor succeeded. It was enough to get her back on her feet and moving in the space it took Berihun to recover.

The furious roar that ripped from the man’s chest in his pursuit was like nothing she would have expected from him in life, as little as she had known the man in person. He’d seemed so controlled and collected then…

Without a second more of hesitation, Crowley selected a surviving chest scattered about the room - some treasure of Solomon’s, no doubt, but she had no idea what - prayed it would be sturdy and secure enough to contain the bomb for the short term, stuffed the device inside and the chest into her inventory. It would have to do for now, as she slipped another heavy blow from the Third Age prosthetic that shattered the tiled wall. Filth flowed freely from the newly made opening and Berihun’s hollowed socket alike.

#.NO SIGNAL #.MISSION LOG #:Heart of Darkness #.horror #.gore #.blood

4 notes · View notes

imagining-in-the-margins · 3 years

Text

The Birds & The Bees (S.R.)

Series Content Warnings: Age Gap between Adults (15yrs, 25/40), slowburn, loss of virginity, Professor/Grad Student, explicit sexual content (NSFW, 18+)

(Image not indicative of Reader’s appearance)

"I think he seriously believes that deflowering an angel could mean an eternity in fiery hell."

- Cynthia Hand

Fantasies were not a strange or new phenomenon to Spencer Reid. As a young boy, he had spent many early afternoons tracing the climbing vines of the cape honeysuckle. It was an imposter, he knew, not at all related to the true Lonicera americana.

But still, he would drag his finger along the protruding filaments, dreaming of what it might be like to pull the stem from its place. To bring the nectar to his lips and feel the way the sticky sweetness tries to force his mouth shut. To give into the temptation and gluttony and greed and ignore the resistance. To press soft petals against his tongue until there was nothing left.

Fantasies were not a strange or new phenomenon to Spencer Reid.

He just never imagined they would be about a student at his school.

"All things truly wicked start from innocence."

- Ernest Hemingway

| Part One | The Hummingbird | Reader interviews for a position as Dr. Spencer Reid’s Teaching Assistant, and Spencer learns something special about her.

| Part Two | Another Statistic | Spencer and Reader are forced to remember that the world is not only made up of the two of them.

| Part Three | Little Bunny | Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin.

| Part Four | Sunday Paper | Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better.

| Part Five | First Taste | Spencer wonders if her lips could really make him better somehow.

| Part Six | Tornado Warning | Derek tries to give Spencer advice, and Bunny and Spencer try to ride out the storm.

| Part Seven | Unwelcome Visitors | Bunny and Spencer visit the prison, and later she pays him a visit in his dreams.

| Part Eight | Professor’s Pride | Spencer and Bunny have their first fight, and Candy’s confrontation couldn’t have come at a worse time.

| Part Nine | Required Context | Spencer and Bunny discuss perceptions and... sleepovers.

| Part Ten | The Sin | Spencer accidentally calls Reader by a different name... in front of the entire class. When he begins avoiding her, she confronts him.

| Part Eleven | Hawking Radiation | Bunny gets paired with a familiar face at volunteering, and Spencer meets a colleague on a date.

| Part Twelve | Bitter Pill | Spencer and Tara discuss regrets over drinks. Spencer and Bunny discuss them, too.

| Part Thirteen | Lover’s Lane | Spencer and Bunny have a heart to heart (and a little bit more on Lover’s Lane).

| Part Fourteen | Counting Heartbeats | Spencer finds out Bunny has been tutoring Kyle. He tells each of them how he feels about it.

| Part Fifteen | Chekhov’s Gun | The pair head off to the conference.

| Part Sixteen | Prey Drive | Spencer and Bunny spend their first night in bed together, but one of them has some reservations.

| Part Seventeen | Dandelion Honey | Spencer makes a very big decision for the couple's future.

| Part Eighteen | Rear View |

Bunny runs into Kyle and learns things about Spencer she isn’t ready to handle. (Synopsis)

| Part Nineteen | Barefoot Boy |

Spencer and Bunny have a discussion about socks (and a strange wedding invitation in his mailbox).

| Part Twenty | The Bloom | It’s Christmas, and Bunny stays true to her promise that he won’t be alone. The couple comes to a decision.

| Part Twenty One | Library Stacks | Bunny meets two new people in Spencer’s office just before they whisk him away.

| Part Twenty Two | Three Bruises | Spencer realizes the BAU is a lot harder when he has someone waiting at home.

| Part Twenty Three | Warning Shot | Spencer and Bunny visit the gun range.

Part Twenty Four | High Roller | Spencer and Bunny take a trip to Vegas.

Part Twenty Five | Different Dynamics | Lila and Bunny meet, and Bunny confronts Spencer.

Part Twenty Six | Bouquet Toss | Lila's wedding has Spencer thinking a lot about his future.

Part Twenty Seven | March Hare | Spencer's half-truths are catching up to him, and Ms. Fletcher is causing problems.

Part Twenty Eight | Final Favor | Spencer and Bunny take the next big step in their relationship. Someone from Spencer's recent past returns.

Part Twenty Nine | Nine Lives | The BAU comes to see Spencer and Bunny, along with Candy.

Part Thirty (Finale) | The Garden | Spencer finally learns what love means.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid series #reid series #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut

4K notes · View notes

redorich · 3 years

Note

In the HermitCanyon au, How is my favorite Bee armored Admin doing? How long does it take for Xisuma to become.. aware of what is happening? For the first few sections it seemed like he was in a coma/unconscious. In the most recent bit Impulse tells Etho to get Xisuma, so at least theoretically he can now move, but how long has it taken him to get there, and where is he on the scale to full recovery? Are the other hermits keeping him safe with rabbit stew? (if they have rabbits that is...)

Part 2 of this.

Etho comes back twenty minutes later with a solemn look on his face. (At least, Puffy assumes. She can't actually see most of his face because of that mask of his.)

"X is in a bad way today," he says quietly. "I can take Puffy to him if you guys would like to stay here with Zedaph."

Impulse and Tango look nervously at each other. On one hand, they very much would like to stay with Zedaph, who is mostly healed but still very loopy and probably should not be moved. On the other hand, allowing Puffy deep into the Hermits' inner sanctum is a risk in and of itself, let alone with only one Hermit with her. Etho's a good fighter and a wily bastard, but Puffy is most certainly no slouch.

In the end, it comes down to trust. How much can they show Puffy before they can no longer trust that she won't snitch? How sure are they that she won't try to kill them all and steal their stuff?

"Tell Xisuma I said hi," Zedaph warbles from the bed in the corner of the room, out of any window's line of sight.

As Etho presses a button which removes a panel of the wall in a whir of piston noises, Puffy snorts out a little laugh. "I'll be sure to do that."

Tango nods subtly to Impulse. If Puffy brought Zedaph back to the canyon, saved him from a painful respawn, and didn't once ask for anything in return, then the Hermits can trust her at least this much.

Etho leads Puffy through a short hallway into a large circular room with a domed ceiling. The room is mostly quartz, though the walls are lined with sea lanterns and oak leaves. It’s beautiful. This place has been hiding under her feet this whole time?

“This is the Atrium,” Etho says, “or at least the main one. Come on, getting a mule will be more trouble than it’s worth if you’re not carrying anything.”

Puffy is speechless, utterly and profoundly, when Etho takes her through a tunnel on the opposite side of where she entered. It almost looks as though the tunnel here was carved by hand, then completely redone in dirt and grass and vines to give it a secretive, high fantasy look.

“Hey, Etho!” says a dark-haired man with a big smile as he comes trotting out of a branching hallway to the left. “Hey--” He catches sight of Puffy and his smile dissipates into panic. He shouts incoherently and dives back into the hallway he just exited.

“Hey Bdubs,” Etho greets impishly, then turns to Puffy. “Man, it’s like he saw a ghost or something. Maybe Mothman.”

Puffy bleats out a surprised laugh. Up ahead, she spots another Hermit lurking around the corner of the archway Etho is leading her toward.

“Etho,” says a tall blonde woman. “Cleo wants to talk to you about, er...” The blonde woman glances at Puffy. “Her thing,” she finishes lamely.

“Well, as you can see, I’m a bit busy at the moment. Would you mind telling Cleo so she doesn’t skin me alive?” Etho says sweetly.

The blonde woman snorts. “Face the music, Mothman. I’ll take care of Puffy from here. I assume you’re taking her to Xisuma?”

Etho wilts. Clearly, whoever this Cleo person is, she’s not someone to piss off. Puffy wonders what Etho did.

“See ya around,” Etho waves, somehow both cheery and morose at the same time, like a funeral for someone nobody liked. Puffy and the blonde woman watch him go.

“My name’s False, by the way,” the blonde woman says. “Thanks for the bandanna. Normally I’d be wearing it, but I just got back from beating up Iskall.”

The woman-- False-- laughs. Puffy is once again taken aback by the idea that the Hermits actually use the items that she makes for them.

False takes off in a brisk walk toward the archway she’d come out of. Jumping a little bit at being torn from her thoughts, Puffy hurries to follow. It’s hard to keep up, since all Puffy wants to do is stare. She must be in the living quarters-- they let her in the living quarters?! Each door matches the high fantasy, underground sort of aesthetic, but a few doors are left open and each one is remarkably different on the inside. One room is built entirely out of red and white concrete, whereas another is Nether-themed with actual fire, and the room down the hall is entirely underwater!

One door is different. It’s got blue-purple banners along the frame, and when False opens the door for Puffy, she can see that the room is made of blackstone bricks. Maps of the Dream SMP line the wall, and in the center of the room there is a mildly ornate table made of warped wood.

At the end of the table in the back of the room, opposite the door, sits a trio. To the left, there is a plain-looking man with a beard and an “at” symbol on his shirt. He speaks in a Southern accent to a man on the right side of the table, who wears a red sweater and twirls a feather between his fingers like the cat that got the canary.

In between the two, at the head of the table, rests someone very unique. He’s obviously tall, that much is obvious even when he’s sitting down. He’s also got mesmerizing purple eyes which glow faintly against the dark of the blackstone. Puffy doesn’t know why, but she gets the feeling that they’re supposed to be glowing much brighter.

As taken by the man’s eyes as she is, Puffy doesn’t notice the non-invasive breathing tube the man also has (a cannula? She doesn’t know what it’s called, but that sounds right) until the man’s gaze falls upon her, still standing in the doorway next to False.

“Oh,” the man says. “You’re not supposed to be here. Welcome.”

False steps forward, breaking Puffy from her trance. “Puffy, this is Xisuma, Joe, and Grian. I’d introduce you to them as well, but... you know.”

“I don’t know-- oh,” Puffy says awkwardly, catching sight of the massive crochet blanket she’d made for the Hermit months ago, draped across Xisuma’s shoulders.

“Why are you here?” Grian asks with a tilted head. “No offense or anything, but I just lost a bet. I had three diamonds on Cub bringing you in here eventually-- he’s the one you usually meet at the barrel, you know.”

False interjects, “I didn’t bring her down here, it was Etho!”

“Shoot,” Joe says. “Cleo wins yet again.”

“It was Zedaph, actually,” Puffy says. All eyes turn to her. “I found him on the surface. He was really injured, so I brought him back here. Impulse and-- Tango? Yeah, Tango-- told Etho to take me down here.”

Puffy uncharacteristically twiddles her fingers a little bit, feeling in over her head. “Uh, you know I’m not gonna tell or anything, so... Why am I here?”

The full weight of Xisuma’s piercing stare falls upon her. Even as fragile as he looks, even as strong as Puffy is, she feels a jolt of apprehension.

“You’d know more about the red vines than we do,” he begins. “Etho mentioned that they’re what hurt Zedaph; he’s mentioned them on multiple occasions, and never in a good way. How long do you think it would take for those vines to reach our village, and what do you think would happen once they do?”

“As far as we’re aware, there are several players who are proponents of the vines, and claim they originate from some sort of egg?” Joe adds. “I’ve had a hard time calculating how big of a mushroom we’d need to make an omelet out of the egg, but apparently most of my fellow Hermits do not in fact want evil eggs on their omelets.”

“And how come the End is inaccessible?” Grian cuts in with a whine. “I want my elytra.”

Xisuma huffs a laugh into the cannula. “As you can see, we have many questions which only a native Dream SMP player like yourself can answer. In the interest of keeping ourselves safe--” he trails off into a coughing fit.

Puffy bites her lip, feeling as though she really shouldn’t be seeing this. Joe rests his hand on Xisuma’s back.

“You give us answers, and we’ll give you diamonds, netherite, whatever you want. And when we move out-- well, it wasn’t much of a secret anyway-- we’ll offer you a safe place with us,” Grian speaks up on Xisuma’s behalf.

A thousand thoughts spin inside Puffy’s head. She feels like Dorothy in that tornado, and Grian’s offer is the Wicked Witch. “Did you guys really save Tommy’s life?” she finds herself asking.

The Hermits seem taken aback.

“The blond kid?” False asks. “Yeah, but he was unconscious the whole time. I think Scar told the kid to keep us a secret, but... I don’t think any of us expected that to actually work.”

Puffy laughs disbelievingly. “He’s the one person on the entire server who keeps insisting that you guys aren’t real.”

“That’s good to hear,” Xisuma says quietly. “Do you have an answer for us, or would you like some time to consider?”

There are a thousand and one variables Puffy needs to think about. What is Dream’s stance on the Hermits? Who will she be setting herself against by allying with the Hermits? What will Puffy have to expect, from both underground and surface-dwelling players alike? Which players can she take in a fight?

Fuck it, she thinks. “You’ve got yourselves a deal.”

Xisuma smiles. Despite his ill condition, she gets the feeling that this nice, mild-mannered man is far more dangerous than she could ever hope to be.

“I’m glad to have you on our side, Puffy,” he says. “Thank you for your help.”

#mcyt #hc x dsmp #hermit canyon au #captain puffy #ethoslab #zedaphplays #impulsesv #tango tek #xisuma #bdubs #zombiecleo #falsesymmetry #iskall85 #joe hills #grian #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #me.cpp #me.txt

465 notes · View notes

rogue-durin-16 · 3 years

Text

MERMAID

Summary: the sexual tension of George and Y/n's weird friendship is getting the best of their friends, so when Harry suggests a trip to the Black Lake, they become adamant about getting them together.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: fluff

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: language and a bit of makeout

A/N: BITCH I THOUGHT THIS WAS A SHORT ONE??? I needed some fluff for this boy since I'm torturing him, so here it goes an idea I had half asleep in the bus, enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"They're literally— her legs are wrapped around his hips— are you kidding me?!" I whispered-shouted in desperation. "This is unbearable!"

"Fred relax, they just need a little push." Hermione's words sounded ridiculous even for her own ears.

"I brought her here!" Harry backed me up, equally annoyed. "If that's not one hell of a push, then what is it?"

"Shush, boys." Ginny spoke, her eyes still closed under her sunglasses as she laid on her towel. "We have hours ahead of us for them to make a move."

I puffed, my eyes returning to George, whose arms were wrapped around Y/n's middle from behind, making her squeal before throwing her to a deeper part of the lake.

They would not make a move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

We had moved to the dock in order to see the sunset better, and, now that the sun was low and the light lacking, we began to pick things up.

"Why the long face?" George questioned when he saw my gaze.

"I'd have enjoyed a night swim, if I'm being honest." I got up and went to grab my bag. "Another time I g— George!" I couldn't help but cry out when his arms picked me up and threw me into the water. "You fucking plonker!" I yelled, moving my wet hair away from my face. "This was the only dress I brought!" The lake wasn't as deep there, so I could easily stand on my feet and climb up, but I was already drenched.

George was bent over himself, laughing loudly, so he was helpless when Ginny pushed him into the lake.

As he resurfaced besides me, I couldn't help but burst into laughter at his shocked, betrayed face; it was priceless.

"Have fun you two." Ginny spoke as the rest laughed. "C'mon guys." The redhead grabbed my bag and Hermione picked George's, and soon it was just the two of us there.

"Aren't you going to thank me?" George broke the silence, crouching to dip his body underwater, protecting it for the blows of wind.

"Why?" I moved deeper into the lake, seeking the protection of the chill temperature too.

"You got your night swim."

"My dress is soaked!" I exclaimed, splashing him right in the face.

"Oi, so is my shirt!" He replied, following my lead and diving in. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes, idly swimming and floating until George stopped moving and spoke. "You know? You kinda remind me of a mermaid."

"You've seen a lot of them?" I quirked an eyebrow, giving up the swimming to stand on my feet.

"Git." He send a splash of water in my direction, making me giggle. "I mean like the one in the perfects' bathroom."

"You're not allowed into the prefects' bathroom, Weasley," I moved my hands on the water's surface, creating little waves around me. "Unlike me, you're not a Prefect, because only prats become Prefects." I quoted him in a mocking tone.

"Are you gonna rat me out, Y/l/n?" He teased, eyebrows raised as he circled me.

"I would, but I don't get anything out of it." I shrugged, sinking into the water once more until the only thing over it was my face. "Sooo..."

"Sooo..." He mocked me, making my eyes roll.

"A mermaid." George hummed, taking a look at the moon, which was shinning more than it usually would. "Is it because I'll lure you into the depths of the black lake?" I inquired, his eyes meeting mines when my hands found his underwater tugging him towards me as I stepped back, deeper into the water.

"I'd follow you without question." He dramatically replied, doing as he had said with a smile on his face until his feet couldn't reach the bottom.

"How romantic." My fingertips traveled up his forearms, reaching his shoulders as he moved even closer to me.

A wicked smile slipped through my gaze and he didn't have time to step back before I shoved him down in repay for dunking me earlier. I was quick to rush in the shore's direction, but not quick enough.

"Oi, not so fast!" He half swam half ran after me, taking a hold of my leg and pulling on it, and, given that I was standing on my tiptoes, consequently dragging me back to him. "You're a nightmare."

"I think you mean a dream." I mused, spinning to meet his gaze.

"Nah," His hands had left my legs after I catching me, and now rested on my hips. "I'm pretty sure of what I mean."

"Is it because I haunt your dreams in the night?" I laughed at my own joke, my fingertips toying with the hem of his shirt, slightly floating due to the water. "Can't sleep with the thought of me on your mind, huh?"

It was meant to be another playful tease, but by the way his hands' hold tightened ever so slightly, it dawned on me that maybe I had taken a too accurate guess.

My heart hammered against my chest as I have his shirt a tug. "If you wanna kiss me so bad, pretty boy, why don't you?"

He snorted as if I was joking; I couldn't blame him, though. We were always joking about that. "Why don't you kiss me, if you want it so bad?"

I went for a laugh and a shake of my head as a response, not trusting my voice. A particularly cool blow of wind caught us and he shivered; the temperature had gone significantly lower in the last couple of minutes. "C'mon, I don't wanna freeze to death, and we got a long way to the common room." I caught one of his hands as they left my hips and led him back to the shore. "They took the towels?!"

"Don't worry," the ginger said, taking off this drenched tee to wring it out. "We'll kill them later." He assured me, throwing the clothing back on as I wringed the hem of my dress. "C'mon, love." This time it was him taking my hand to lead the way.

We walked in silence, cracking a joke or two as we made our way to the castle. Finally reaching the stairs of the boat house, we began to climb them.

"Oi." George gave my hand a tug, his eyes scanning our surroundings. "You heard that?"

"Stop it." I chuckled, playfully bumping his chest before attempting to pull his hand to resume our walk; he had been pulling the strange noise card the whole walk. "C'mon—"

"Shhh!"

"I'm not gonna fall for it." I climbed off one of the steps to meet the ginger. "I'm cold so—" and then I heard it. "What...?" My gaze left the boy to scrutinise the darkness over his shoulder.

"Told you." He whispered, prompting me to come closer to him with a squeeze on my hand.

"You've been joking about that the whole time!" I scolded in an equally quiet tone.

"Who said I was joking?" the eyes of us both fixed at the bottom of the stairs trying to discern something.

"You think we should go check...?"

"Darling, I think that's the worst idea you've ever had." He responded. "It could be anything— we're out here at night."

"Yeah, but we're almost in the castle." We had come incredibly closer, partially because of the unnerving feeling that something was watching us, but also because of the wind that hit our still very wet clothes.

He seemed to think for a moment before turning back to me. "Walk before me." He instructed, already pushing me upstairs. "I'll keep an eye behind us."

The paranoia in my mind increased as we went up— we were outside the castle, it truly could be anything, and I didn't exactly enjoy the idea of George at the back.

That noise again.

I huffed, frustration and fear growing inside me.

"Don't worry." George, who until now had been at least three steps behind me, rushed up, holding my waist and giving me a gentle squeeze. "It's probably nothing, alright?"

"Walk by me." I requested, in a mutter.

He seemed to understand the nature of my plead and his hands left my waist so he would be able to fall into step with me. "Can't take your eyes off me, huh?" He successfully lightened up the mood, but right when I was about to tease back, the damn noise sounded again, this time making us jump. "What the hell..."

"That sounded close." I pointlessly observed. George groaned when he went to grab his wand and realised it was in his bag, most likely in the common room already. "Running to the boathouse is very tempting." I joked, leaning on him with my eyes still looking for the source of our fear.

"Blimey, Aurora!" we had to refrain our yelps when Professor Sprout's voice ended the tense silence we had fallen in. "Didn't think I'd find you here."

As the Professors seemed to descend the stairs and consequently come closer, George and I shared a panicked look. In a rush of adrenaline, I tugged him to the edge of the stairs and made him jump out to the raw rocks with me right after him; we made it just in time for Sinistra and Sprout to walk down the place where we had been an instant ago.

GEORGE'S P.O.V.

Y/n peeked over the rail to see the two women chatting, following their path without any sign of suspicion. With a sigh of relief, her eyes fell on me, crouched besides her with a hand on the stone rail to steady myself. I raised my eyebrows, surprised at her resolution, and then proceeded to chuckle, which earned me a kick on my leg.

"Shut it." She warned me with a smile of her own.

Silence fell among us once again, and, when she stood up, propping herself on the railing, my mind decided it was a good time to stare.

She was always a sight for sore eyes, but now with the moonlight reflecting on her hair and skin, she seemed to glow. Her dress, though it was meant to be flowy, had stuck to her torso due to the water, and hugged her curves in the most delightful way. Oh what I would give for her to realise I wanted to hold her tight in a different way as she allowed me to.

"I'm gonna pretend you're not ogling me." She informed me, her eyes still fixed on the path our Professors had taken. I only smiled to myself, standing up to jump back to the stairs before offering her both my hands.

"C'mon darling." She took them in hers before climbing up the railing and jumping down in front of me.

Her words had been echoing in my mind during the whole walk.

-If you wanna kiss me so bad, pretty boy, why don't you?-

Did she mean it?

"What is it?" She questioned with a confused smile, staring at me. "What?" She repeated, but my mind was somewhere else.

My mind was at the lake, where her hands had roamed over my bare skin several times; where I had held her against me in nothing more than our bathing suits; where we had been left alone and she had found a thousand different reasons to take my hands or pull me closer; where her tone had dropped as she said those words at mere inches of my lips.

"George," she snapped her fingers in front of my eyes. "we gotta go."

Not yet, I thought, taking a step towards Y/n that felt like a leap of faith. Though she took a step back, her hands held my forearms, taking me with her just like she had done moments ago at the lake.

And just like it had happened before, her eyes lured me into drowning, and I followed without question.

The kiss was as deep as the black lake, my hands finding the rail behind her for some extra support —I had become weak on the knees, my legs feeling as if they were about to give out—, and her hands going from my arms to my chest without pulling away from my body.

The synchrony of our lips was unbelievably perfect, sending shocks through my whole body.

My lips detached from hers to pepper kisses down her jaw to her neck.

"George..." My name came up of her as a quiet moan and I felt dizzy, not noticing the moan that came out of my own mouth. "George," she called again, this time with a more steady voice, clearing her throat before pushing me away with her hand on my chest.

"Something wrong?" I inquired, trying to get a grip on myself. "Did I—?

"No— I'm very much enjoying this," She assured me. "but a moment ago we were scared shitless because—"

That noise.

Whatever that was, it was nearly in front of us. That time, along with that weird noise, something like whispers were heard.

We both yelped when Harry's Cloak of Invisibility was thrown to the ground before us, revealing three grinning idiots, them being Fred, Ron and Harry.

"On Merlin's beard..." My cheeks started to burn and I felt the imperative need of hiding my face. "What are you doing?"

"We needed to see if you'd finally make a move." Ron explained.

"We even bet on where would it happen." Harry confessed, making my cheeks go even redder. "Now we owe Ginny money." He grunted. "Ugh, you were so close on the lake, I almost won."

"For a moment there, Georgie," Fred was biting back a laugh. "I thought we would witness you two shagging." Ron grimaced at the thought. "Poor Harry panicked and threw the cloak down."

"I'm gonna murder y'all." Y/n jumped in, nearly as mortified as I was. "I finally got him to kiss me and you go and kill the mood! Why don't you piss off so we can do it again?"

Fred got the memo thanks to Y/n's death glare and they rushed upstairs, my twin brother whispering a quick 'congrats' as he passed by me.

"Well that wasn't like I expected our first kiss to go." She confessed, letting out a laugh at the sight of me. "You're as red as a beetroot."

"Shut up." I bumped her arm, a grin twitching the corners of my lips. "So you want me to kiss you again?"

"Of course." Her arms wrapped around my neck, bringing my closer. "If possible, without involving voyeurism." I snorted, tugging her hips to mines before leaning on to kiss her again.

Little did we know that Hermione and Ginny, ever the smart and subtle ones, were watching from the top of the stairs.

#george wealsey imagine #george wealsey x reader #george weasley #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fluff #george weasley smut #george weasley fanfic #george x reader #george x reader fluff #george weasley aesthetic #harry potter and the triwizard tournament #harry potter fanfiction

340 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

Hot Chocolate Kisses

A/N: It’s nothing much, but it is something so tender and soft. I love Frankie and fluff! Why not have both? Tis a little thank/happy holiday gift from me to you. Enjoy 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: pregnant reader, references to sex, sweet sweet fluff!

FRANKIE MORALES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Good morning," the sound of his soft voice accompanied by the feel of his arms around your midsection was enough to make your heart flutter. He placed a soft kiss to your shoulder before resting his head there and humming in content, "how are you, honey bee?"

"Good morning, mi amor," you replied softly, taking one of his hands that had been resting on the gentle swell of your belly and bringing to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, "I'm perfect. What about you, Frankie? Did you rest well?"

"Like a dream," he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head before reluctantly letting go and moving towards the coffee pot. Once he poured a cup and made it to his liking, he came over, and followed your line of sight out into the yard.

There was nothing but mountains of glittering snow coating the entire neighborhood as far as the eye could see. Small children were already playing outside, all bundled up in thick snow jackets and woolen hats, while dogs ran around their yards barking and biting at soft, fat flakes that were gently drifting down from the heavens.

"Record snowfalls," you looked at him with excited eyes, "which means we are snowed in and work is canceled. Do I even try to pretend to be upset?"

"Hell no," his smile was infectious as his singular dimple appeared and his soft eyes crinkled in the corners the way you adored, "I get to spend the say being lazy at home with my girl? I'm not going to argue with that."

"You know what today calls for," your eyes were wide and bright as the two of you knew exactly what a snow day meant. You'd come up with your own little traditions a long time ago and always pulled them out on days like this.

"You just want an excuse for hot chocolate!" Frankie's tone was lovingly accusing as he crossed his arms over his chest as he took a sip from his mug.

"No!" you insisted firmly, offering him a small little pout, "your daughter is craving some. Ever since you knocked me up that's all I've been wanting! And I don't need any excuse for hot chocolate. Hot chocolate isn't a crime!"

"First of all, this -" he pointed tenderly to the small bump just visible under your sweater, "was a team effort. Secondly, you've always loved my hot chocolate, long before any of this. She had nothing to do with this!”

"Obviously," you stuck your tongue out at him, "but you make it all fancy and gourmet. How can I say no? She's not helping though! I swear it's a craving."

“Your mamá is already using you as an excuse,” he laughed as he rested his hand on your belly. You instantly felt her move and flutter under his touch; she always seemed to be more active when he was around. Even though you were trying to have a seriously teasing conversation, the moment was enough to make your heart melt, “can you believe it, mija? She just doesn’t want to admit she’s addicted to the world’s best hot chocolate.”

“I can quit it any time I want,” you snorted with laughter at his silly antics, “I just choose not to. Now, don’t deny your pregnant wife what she wants!”

“What does she want?” there was a wicked little glint in his eye as you raised a brow at him.

“Well for starters,” you pointed at the cabinet, “some hot chocolate later. But how about breakfast for now? And a warm bath after that? I swear I’m getting as bad as you old man, my back is killing me.”

“Hey now,” he warned with a small boop to your nose, “you’re getting awfully cheeky for someone who wants my hot chocolate. You’re on very thin ice, honey bee.”

“You know I’m only kidding, Francisco,” you gave him a quick kiss as you went to the refrigerator to start gathering ingredients for breakfast, “besides, you’re my favorite DILF.”

“Oh no,” his laughter was a loud, beautiful thing as it sounded throughout the kitchen. You turned to him and shot him a cheeky little wink, “not you too! Everyone’s calling me that lately, I swear.”

“They can look but they can’t touch. I mean, have you seen yourself Frankie? You’re handsome as hell, you’re amazing, wonderful, kind. Everything,” you insisted as you rejoined his side, You could already see the light flush of color in his cheeks as he relished your words, “and you’re all mine. Besides, I’m half the reason you’re a DILF. Where is my recognition in all of this?”

“I love you, honey bee,” he stared at you in awe for a moment before turning so he could kiss you properly. It took you by surprise but it took even less to respond back; kissing him was such saccharine bliss, “you are everything to me.”

“Good,” you beamed at him, “now let’s get this ultimate lazy day started!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Those might have been our best pancakes ever,” you wolfed down the last syrupy bite before pushing away your empty plate, “I feel as stuffed as a damn turkey.”

“You’re the most beautiful and radiant turkey I have ever laid eyes on,” he joked as you lovingly groaned at his silly words, “I’ll clean up and you can start the bath. Plan?”

“Plan,” you agreed as you slid off the bar stool and started padding towards the kitchen. As Frankie busied himself with gathering up the empty dishes, you turned around and watched him for a moment, nothing but a gentle warmth radiating throughout your body, “Frankie? You’re going to join me, right?”

He turned to you and offered you his megawatt smile as he slowly nodded, a rogue curl bouncing around and falling onto his forehead. Gods, he was so effortlessly handsome and sweet. You couldn’t stop yourself from rushing over to him, delicately grabbing his face as you pressed a kiss to his lips, still tasting the faint sweetness of the syrup, “what was that for?”

“Nothing,” you grinned breathlessly, “I just love you is all.”

“Oh,” a flush of pink tinged his cheeks as he brought his hands to your face, delicately tracing over your features before pressing the softest kiss to your lips, “I love you too.”

“I know,” you beamed, “now hurry up so we can take a bath!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were humming under your breath, sitting at the edge of the large tub as you watched it fill up with warm water. There weren’t very many requirements you had when the two of you had been house hunting before deciding to expand your family - but a large bathtub was one of them. Moments like this made you glad for it; you loved being able to slip into the tub, often dragging along Frankie with you, not that he had any complaints of course. It was perfect for the two of you, and now that you seemed to be growing by the day, it was even better.

Pulling your favorite bottle of bubble bath off the shelf, you poured some in, inhaling deeply at the relaxing scent. All the stress and worries you had were already dissolving away with each passing second. Once you were satisfied with the copious amounts of soft bubbles, you threw in some Epsom salt for good measure, hoping it would help your aching body. Deciding to make it even more festive, you grabbed the speaker from your bedroom, and turned it on, opting to play some soft Christmas music in the background. It wasn’t like you were going to be paying much attention to it anyway; your conversations with Frankie always seemed endless, no matter how long the two of you had been together.

“Close your eyes,” Frankie came into the bathroom just as you were finishing getting everything ready. You closed your eyes, making a show of putting your hands over your eyes as you heard him shuffling in, “okay, pick a hand - left or right.”

“Hmmm…” you mused for a moment, “how about left?”

“Lucky guess,” he chuckled as he pulled your hands from your eyes. A little grin spread across your features when you saw what he was holding in his hands, “surprise!”

“Frankie,” his name was but a mere soft sigh as you reached for the soft, cozy pajamas he was holding out to you. You could spy a matching pair for him on the counter, your heart fluttering in delight. It had become a sort of little tradition for the two of you to get new matching holiday pajamas every year. It was just some silly thing, but it still meant the world to you, “I love them. Thank you so much - you remembered.”

“Of course,” he held out his hands to you, slowly hoisting you to your feet, “I wouldn’t ever forget.”

He slowly reached for the hem of your sweater, gently pulling up and over your head and outstretched arms before tossing it on the floor. He followed suit with your bra, unclasping it before letting it join your sweater and doing the same to your leggings and underwear. It was such a small intimate thing, the way his eyes looked over you was nothing short of adoration and reverence.

“Your turn,” you whispered before starting to unbutton his flannel, taking your time to undo it one by one. Shrugging it off his shoulders, you pressed a few kisses to the soft, golden skin of his shoulder before moving onto his jeans, wicking them down his legs along with his boxers. He made a small sound in his throat before stepping out of his jeans and pulling you into his arms. The gentle coolness of his wedding band on your back was wonderful; a delicate reminder of just how much he loved you.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as he trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, a hand running down your side as he rested it on your waist, taking solace in the gentle swell of your belly. He still couldn’t believe your daughter - his daughter, one that came as a small surprise and blessing was in there. One he had never known he wanted so much until you told him you were pregnant and he broke down crying, as emotional as you were. You, the two of you, were everything for him.

“Hmm,” you mused, “you’re not so bad yourself. I guess we both got pretty lucky, huh? I love you so much, Francisco. More than you will ever know.”

He looked back at you with those brown eyes you adored so much, and you could see that they were glossy, close to spilling over with tears. You reached up and touched his cheek before brushing away a stray curl.

“Come on,” he held your hand as you motioned towards the tub. He got in first, settling down before holding his arms out to you. Carefully, you settled in next to him surprising him for a moment as you occupied the other side. Before he could say anything, you gathered up a handful of bubbles, and blew them at him, watching as they stuck in his dark mop of hair, “playing dirty are we?”

“Maybe,” you splashed him with the warm water, “you have to play nice, I’m pregnant!”

“You started it!” he splashed you back as you squealed in delight, “don’t start what you can’t finish!”

“Oh, it’s on! It’s so on,” you laughed as you tried to move the bubbles closer to your half of the tub, “you’re going down!”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Do you have enough blankets, honey?” Frankie walked back into the living room, arms filled with a few more big, fuzzy blankets. You looked up from the comfy couch, during the numerous blankets you’d already secured and gave him a big grin. You were already feeling so toasty and warm in your new pajamas after your bath, and this just made it so much better. He snorted with laughter at the sight of only your head poking out, “oh.”

“It’s freezing!” you insisted, digging your arm out and pointing at your feet, “pile them on! The only thing I’m missing is your body.”

“I have a few more things to do first,” he put the blankets down and wrapped them around your feet, “gonna start a fire and then go and make the hot chocolate. You, my little bee, are in charge of finding our first movie. Think you’re up to the challenge?”

“As if that’s a question,” you joked as you reached for the remote, as he went over to the fireplace, “you just need to hurry up!”

"You are getting so demanding," he laughed as he kneeled next to the fireplace and started to pile some of the logs in. He started to hum softly under his breath as you watched him, absolutely in awe of the man you were able to call your husband. The sight of him in the same pajamas as you was endearing and caused you a moment of pause as you pictured doing this next year with him and your daughter.

You often wondered what she would like, although you both knew that the only thing that mattered was that she was healthy and sound. But a small part of you hoped she'd take after Frankie, to have those gentle chocolate eyes and dark curls. Maybe she'd take after you, or maybe -

"Everything alright?" Frankie turned and caught your distant gaze on him as she started to light the fire. You hadn't realized you'd gotten so lost in your little daydream.

"Yes," you smiled at him, "just thinking..."

"Thinking about...."

"Its silly..."

"If it matters to you then it's not silly," he insisted, making a small sound of satisfaction when the fire started to crackle away merrily.

"I was just thinking about next year," you admitted shyly, "you know how we do the matching pjs every year? I think it would be fun to do that with the bean next year."

"I love the sound of that," he agreed, "that'll make a great Christmas card!"

"Yeah," you agreed as he brought you a pillow to rest your head on, "you really do think of everything, don't you?"

"Only for my bee," he promised with a wink and a kiss, "I'll go and make the hot chocolate. Classic for you today?"

"Surprise me!"

"Be back," he promised as pointed at the television, "now pick something good out!"

»»————-　♡　————-««

It seemed like it had been a small eternity since Frankie had left to go on his little adventure of hot chocolate making, and you'd long since found a suitable movie. You started it but kept it paused as you waited. But soon you felt a flutter in your belly. A contented sigh escaped your lips as you put your hand on your tummy where you felt her moving around.

"I know baby bean," you told her gently, "I miss him too. Even when he's gone only for a few minutes. You're gonna love him so much, just like me. He's going to be the best papá. We already love you so much. We can't wait to meet you."

"Talking to yourself?" just in time your knight in cozy pajamas came striding back in with two delicious steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

"I am never alone anymore," you reminded him as he came and cozied up next to you, "I've always got the bean. And we were having a private conversation, thank you very much."

"Please don't let me interrupt," he passed your mug over before pulling blankets over his form and you curled up in his side. You grinned at the full mug, admiring how perfectly he had made it. It was a classic, a layer of mini marshmallows followed by a layer of whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate and caramel syrup.

"Thank you, Frankie," you beamed as you took a long sip, savoring the creamy sweetness on your tongue. You heard a soft chuckle before Frankie reached over and wiped off the whipped cream from your nose, "oops!"

"Good?" he asked as you nodded eagerly. Before he could stop himself, he leaned over and gave you a soft, saccharine little kiss. He lingered against your lips and you could taste the sweetness of the hot chocolate that was clinging onto him. He grinned before giving you a few more pecks, each sweeter than the last, "even better. Now, start this movie and let's get this marathon on the road!"

You clutched your mug to your chest as Frankie brought an arm over your shoulders and you pressed play on your first cheesy holiday movie.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It wasn't long before you felt your eyes start to get heavy as you finished your mug of hot chocolate. You were about to move it to the coffee table, but Frankie beat you to the punch, grabbing it from your hands and setting down before pulling you into his lap.

He wrapped his arms around you as you laid against his chest and let the soft rise and fall of his chest relax and lull you.

Soon enough your eyes closed and everything seemed distant. You didn't even try to fight it as Frankie pressed a kiss to your cheek. One hand was holding yours, your fingers laced together and the other was resting on your belly. It wasn't long before you were completely under the siren spell of sleep and snoring quietly in his arms.

"I love you, honey bee," he whispered ever so gently as he relaxed too, growing more tired by the second, "and you too, baby bee. You two are everything."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @winters-buck @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @kochamcie @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #cattfish morales x reader

421 notes · View notes