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astronicht · 8 months

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whumptober day 6: made to watch

Wild Magic series (Tortall) | Numair/OMC/ OFC, Numair & Daine | 1.8k, rated E

CW: dubcon, drugged sex, mind-sharing/reading, no one is having a good time. Not underage, technically, but if you’re unsure give it a skip.

“i’ll cannibalize an old unfinished oneshot” i said. “this will not be a deeply frustrating writing experience” i said. whatever whatever posting amnesty is the POINT.

The guilt after Carthak was palpable, so Daine assumed that there would be a quiet year or so before anyone asked Numair to do his job again.

Instead, everyone stepped gently around her, but within a month were sheepishly handing Numair new orders. The king’s men looked surprised when Daine came along and stood in the corner of three different antechambers in which Numair was given his orders, but no one dared order her out. She wondered if she should just never explain that the necromancy had run its course.

“You hate political meetings,” Onua said, one evening when Daine was late for dinner after the second meeting. Dinner with Onua was paprika stew and the cartwheel shaped rolls they baked in Corus and stewed sour cherries baked in thin dough, taken from the mess hall. They took it all outside, through three different gates in curtain walls, and ate on a blanket. Daine spit a cherry stone into the pony field.

“I’m just there for him,” Daine tried to explain.

Onua got it more than most, but— “Saving Arram from himself?” she laughed, leaning on Diane’s shoulder affectionately.

No, saving him from them, Daine thought, watching the blue and lilac sunset. From all of us. “People need him a lot,” she settled on. “I’m just there to remind them to only need him a little.”

Onua had laughed.

Numair just looked confused and resigned when Jonathan’s men questioned her presence to him. “What?” He’d say, “Veralidaine? Oh, she decides.”

The bags under his eyes were bruised. In a cold hallway hung with tapestries, he said, “Of course you can always stay home, or here, or at the Swoop.” Daine nodded. She had stayed home once, in the tower. “But I don’t know where they think you go when I’m busy. A cabinet?”

Daine laughed, and when he laughed in return his tired face lit up.

Eventually, she thought, you’re supposed to get big enough that no one can touch you. Even the pressure of war is supposed to stop every few generations, isn’t it? And if you live in the lucky town there’s some time of peace that gets a name in old books. But failing that, you’re supposed to get big enough.

She was sixteen. Numair was twenty-four.

Daine first met Numair when he was an injured bird. He really was a bird that day. When another sorcerer makes a bird it’s an illusion, but when Numair makes a bird he does it with his body, like Daine would.

She stares at him, laying too still on the ship’s bed which was tucked into the wall like all the beds were in the village growing up. Yes, he is breathing. The air is bad and stale.

Sometimes Numair can’t help himself, she’s learned, in the way you learn someone’s weird habits for cracking eggs, or how to tell that they’re putting off washing their hair or answering a letter. He never spills his magic, but he spills his mind everywhere.

“Stop blaming my mind,” Numair whispers suddenly from the bed. “You just read it. I taught you to read so you read it.”

Daine stares levelly at him. If this is all, she doesn’t know why the Lioness thought Daine needed to be kept from a little madness. None of them had even been in that room, had they? But Daine had.

“Why did you have to see it?” Numair mutters through a clenched jaw, like he heard her think it.

He looks like a great black egret dying on a beach. His ribcage rises and falls in huge breaths. His hair is curled in cold sweat.

Buri didn’t think he’d even let Daine past the door to the stateroom. He’s awake enough to have whims. He’ll let Alanna see to him at dawn and dusk but he will not let her stay long.

“Fucking Arram,” is all the Lioness says about it. Annoyed but not shocked. She turns Daine away the first time she comes by. The second, it’s just Buri guarding the door. Daine is never going to stare the Lioness down; she might stare Buri down, though. The older she gets, the more aware she is that she and Buri are very different people cut from very similar cloth.

“Don’t be offended if he yells you out,” Buri says.

Numair says, a strange slurring voice, “It’s fine. It’s fine. She knows everything.”

Buri blinks, goes annoyed and stiff.

“She’s sixteen,” Buri hisses, leaning around the doorway.

“She went in my silly little head,” slurs Numair.

“No, you went in mine,” Daine says, stepping inside. It’s true: the year they first met he went in her head and put a little ring in it. She’s seen blown glass now, and carved rock crystal jugs that Numair keeps at home in the tower. Something like that sits in the throat of her mind, keeping magic and soul from going mad together. He doesn’t have one, does he? Definitely not.

“You went in mine first,” Numair says, finicky and semantic the way he gets, even like this, slurring his words. “You were definitely too young for that.”

Buri slams the door. She does not know Daine was in the room for it either.

Daine is not particularly afraid of Numair in a wild mood. She is afraid of Numair dying — or is she? In the face of Numair dying she would be — has been — something beyond that. Preemptively angry.

This is not Numair dying. No one’s life is going to be materially changed by yesterday or tomorrow.

Numair goes quiet. Daine is not in his silly little head, because that’s not how her magic works. If he were a bird right now, she sure fucking would be. She’d yell some sense into him, or maybe just yell at everyone but him. Enough of the not-dying; he cannot do it the way birds do, where they just sit down on the ground and it seems like within hours they are nearly nothing, a little twisted flesh but mostly hollow bone and hollow feather.

“Yes you are in my mind,” Numair slurs. Daine looks around for the pitcher of water. It is tucked in the small basin in the corner, maybe to prevent it from tipping over when the ship rocks under them. “You just think you’re not.”

“Are you talking to me?” Daine asks, peevishly. She does spill a little water by yanking the jug out of the basin too fast.

“No, sweetheart,” Numair says softly. Her chest slams; she whips around to face him. He still is on the bed. His expression is strange. “I was just speaking to Daine.”

Daine is silent. Maybe for too long; as heartbeats pass, he begins to look almost frightened.

“I’ll stop, I’ll stop if it upsets you, of course,” he says. His voice still sounds so soft. Obliging. A little higher pitched.

With a shock she realizes it is not just his tone that is different; he is speaking Thak. Daine does not understand Thak. But he said — that she was in his head. Could she then hear the meaning, before he speaks?

“I’m only a little angry,” Daine says, because that stretches the truth, but there is no point in lying. “Mostly that you dosed yourself and won’t tell them.”

Numair throws his head back on the pillows and laughs. The action is weak and jerky but it still surprises her, like something jumped out at her.

“It’s always frightening when you speak like that, darling,” he says, charming and smiling and half-dead under his own sweat. A little of his hair is tangled around his neck, like a noose. His eyes seem too young. His mouth seems too soft. Not soft like youth recalled, not soft like he once looked like this, but like this was a way he once acted. Soft and a little coquettish, a little naive: purposefully, with direction. Someone once liked him this way.

Numair whispers, one of his hands twitching across the sheets as if he wants to reach out but is unsure of his welcome. “She’s not in my head, really.”

For a moment, Daine really is outside his head, knocked out briefly by the shock of it: there, just now, she could tell he was lying. Or that he thought he was lying.

Daine sets the jug down on the stateroom floor. It might spill more, it might not. She approaches the bed where Numair watches her with wide black eyes. His gaze fixes blearily on the hand she stretches out towards him. His own hands flex again on the sheets. He holds his breath and stays very still and placid while she untucks the strand of hair from around his sweating neck. The curls spring limply against her hand, bed-frizzed and thick.

She feels his mind shift like feeling a horse grow restless between your legs; she stops touching his hair quickly.

“I didn’t know you were in that room,” he whispers suddenly.

“I know,” Daine says, not touching him.

“Why were you hiding? I never would have—“

“Why are you dosing yourself to have sex,” Daine says.

He does not flush. He never speaks about sex in her presence, but he is not bashful about it. Both of them started young, Daine suspects, but has never verified. And she was a midwife’s daughter. Sex is not strange. This was not, however, something Daine would call—

“Stop,” Numair says weakly.

Fine, whatever he wants.

***

Daine had been a little adder, coiled on a mat in her room. Kitten was tucked in to sleep in Numair’s guest quarters next door. Kitten would enjoy a bed for herself; Numair had not dressed like he intended to come back early from the banquet, or at all.

Sometimes on missions for the crown Numair spent nights away like this. Sometimes, on other missions, he spent time as a bird. Not often, but not never. When he was gone at night Daine listened for birds, just to be safe. She thought for a moment that she heard him anyway: man-shaped and something like man-minded. As close as Numair ever got.

But that was not possible, because wild magic was for one thing, and everyone knew it. It was for talking to things you were not, until you became them.

Numair then stumbled through the door with their hosts, a duke and a duchess. At first Daine thought Numair was very drunk, but then Numair was remembering his own sleight of hand to dose his wine glass, tired down to his bones, needing something to help him along. His theory was that either his wine had already been dosed, or something in the wine they served had interacted with the drug.

Daine was frozen on the rug. The duchess had to help Numair onto the bed. It had seemed to take a very long time for him to come, even with the drug and the duchess on top of him, the duke in front.

They had left him strewn on the bed, cold, numb-mouthed.

She had slithered over, a little rasp of noise on the mat.

He startled so badly that his hands shook for a full minute. “Ah. You were there?” he said. Daine, a little brown adder, could not say anything. But it was enough; he knew she had seen it. And only then did his hands come up in front of his face as if to stop something happening, though it was already done.

It was almost a relief for both of them when he was suddenly, violently sick. Then it just felt like one of those horrible nights when you made a mistake and everything is awful you want to go home.

He had still been drugged and hallucinating three hours later, so Daine had bundled him and Kitten and their bags downstairs to the working courtyard of the ducal palace, where deliveries were already arriving in the slick gray down. It took an unattended cart and a whisper in the ear of the severe mare who drove the cart, and they left it all behind, swift as an adder should have bit.

A few people were still feeling guilty about Carthak, though obviously nowhere near guilty enough. Partly as a consequence of this, the Lioness was waiting two towns down the valley in case of trouble. They had been on a boat upriver before the sun had had much of a chance to warm the air.

Daine sat on the edge of the sickbed, far from the tangled sheets around Numair’s body. He watched her, eyes bleary on the shape of her. Under them the boat rocked gently on its way up the riverbed.

#fucking free me #whumptober ‘23 #my fic

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spikyshores · 2 years

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ok, so this is my art blog, and several people followed me after i posted a few madness combat jokes, and i feel bad right now because madness was my special interest for like a year and a half and i feel like i very suddenly just stopped being able to get happiness out of it a few days ago. tl;dr my special interest is likely dying or at least i can't tolerate the feeling of obligation to draw it and i feel guilty for attracting people to this blog expecting that only for me to likely abruptly stop posting about it, so if anyone wants to unfollow over that i understand and won't be offended. sorry. also sorry to everyone who followed me from the start and has to deal with me making tons of fanart for stuff you don't care about whenever i get a new interest. i know it's not actually a big deal but it simply feels that way because i am autistic. thanks.

like i realized i was putting all this energy into caring and basically pathetically simping and getting emotional about missing the premier and then my body just rejected it. i was like why am i suffering so much, why am i doing this? and some part of me i guess got disgusted with myself and decided to just run away. obviously it's actually my mind that rejected it but i'm using the "body" language because that's the way it felt, like just an overwhelming reaction. and i'm actually pretty upset about it because i was pretty deeply emotionally attached and still am and yet my body is rejecting it because i used everything it had to give me up and/or feel trapped or something. really hard to explain. it's also about my feelings of throwing my life away not making good enough original art and not respecting myself enough as an artist to seek out original self expression etc.

i think maybe what happened overall was i committed myself to this one interest for a long time because i was attached and really didn't want to let go even though i should've let go before and then my brain suddenly forced me to stop and also i'm still attached and there's a chance i'll get re-interested but then this will just happen again and it will be a cycle of pain which coincides with the previously-unrelated-but-now-related mood swings i've been having for the past few months. another thing was that i worked hard to reclaim it as an interest over the course of this year because someone kind of involved it in abusing me (that wasn't the main factor, it just became involved because it was my special interest during the relationship and then was used to hurt me at one point) and i had to retrain myself to not associate it with that and this made me more attached as well.

i still haven't watched the live action trailer yet because i like felt pressure to be emotional about it and i'm like not up to making myself get emotional and/or failing to get emotional when i should. like i was excited about it and now it's been out for days and i haven't even watched it because it will hurt. i hope i get truly re-interested in a while, years or something, and then get to watch it and really enjoy it, but i'm scared that, since this happened, i will never be able to enjoy it again??

i hate that the nature of my brain is to love things really hard and then inevitably get tired of them and all that emotion is like... like it was never there and was always meaningless and just a dopamine factory. i know it wasn't meaningless but like i feel committed to things as if they were people and eventually i start to go crazy from feeling trapped due to doing this to myself but it's like i'm incapable of just having a bunch of casual interests and instead one has to become my whole personality for an extended time. god if you're out there i would recommend nerfing autism/ocd combo. awesome to be a person who by nature wants to do the same thing forever but also is extremely sensitive to feelings of being trapped and also can't stand the uncertainty of knowing if losing something will be permanent 😎 <- imagine that is the carter amelia davis version of that emoji

but yeah i really love madness but i like can't keep performing interest anymore or i will go insane. i need the amount of interest that exists naturally to be my only reason for caring and to feel safe with the possibility of that amount dwindling to nothing.

#like i'm not really sure what's going on because i still really like madness and my moods are so fleeting this could all be reversed in #like 2 days #but i feel like maybe i would like to enjoy it in private because the abstract feeling of people watching and expecting things of me is #like drilling a hole in my brain #and i know i don't owe anyone anything and people don't necessarily actually expect anything of me but the feeling is still there #sorry for talking for SO FUCKING LONG btw #no obligation to read it though #don't know if i want to post much art at all either for a while because the feeling of being watched and scrutinized damages my #original art process too #just hate performing in front of the world suddenly

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neevblanc · 8 months

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(this was all a tiktok DM convo I had with my friend 😭)

tiktok that started this ➡️ https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8h6CU21/

(bkdk angst after the cut <3 it’s not formatted at all and messy cuz…dms…)

I’m going to disintegrate and die!!!/pos

I HATE playing with this concept.

Because it’s too goddamn realistic.

The fact that they are queer men has irreversibly changed their dynamic. Them being two men makes things so different and so much more complicated.

And I think it’s one of the reasons why I hate hate HATE gender bending for no reason other than “I felt like it.”

Because it takes away so much nuance. It WOULD be easier if one of them was a girl.

Bakugou would have noticed how pretty Izuku’s eyes and freckles were just a little earlier, with less of an ache in his chest. Izuku would have noticed just how /cute/ the scrunch in Katsuki’s nose when she got mad, and wouldn’t have had to deal with the overwhelming feeling of a monster gnawing at his stomach afterward.

Their is so much GUILT and almost shame intertwined in their dynamic and it makes it so important.

ITS SO IMPORTANT!!!! That trend where it’s like, “X would be fine with loving a boy if it weren’t B, and B would be fine with loving A if it wasn’t a boy.” But I think the first one applies to them much more.

it takes away so much of the complexity of their dynamic. Of having to fight past not just their past but then having to face the fear in themselves and knowing that they could very well lose family and friends over who they loved.

Despite the fact that it had always been just them, just those two. Just Kacchan and Deku.

One simple little factor of being queer and suddenly everything feels…dirtier. Holding hands is not childish anymore. Pressing together while talking isn’t the same as it was when they were 5 and huddled together under Kacchan’s dining table.

Now it has more meaning— less because they are older, and more because they are boys (not men. Never men).

So when Izuku admits to Ochako one night, under the cover of darkness and the few stars that were bright enough to break through the city smog — “Kacchan…is everything. He always has been.” — it hurts. It hurts more than he wants it too, more than he cares to admit

Ochako's eyes narrow, and he’s afraid, if only for a moment. But she puts a hand on his back, soothing.

“I know, Deku.”

And he can’t help the way his eyes well with tears, and he is filled with a shame greater than any god sent to cast him away from man.

Ochako can only watch her friend crumble and ponder how cruel it was to love so deeply and know you will never be free of the shame that comes with it. Izuku is a crier, but then, sitting next to her, he cries like a little kid. It jostles his body with tremors and leaves him breathless.

She wishes for a moment that one of them was a girl, if not only to save him from the pain that pours out of every fiber of his being.

She takes it back when the sobs become choked, Midoriya struggling to breathe. She guides him through the exercises they were taught for first aid diligently, and with his scarred palm pressed against her chest she takes it back. Because she knows when this over, when he can breathe properly and stand on his own, he will wipe his puffy eyes, hug her goodnight, and still love Katsuki with his whole being.

The boy in front of her will mourn, never knowing the lightness that comes with love but will choose to love anyway. He will choose him, time and time again, over the safety that so many others feel when they fall in love.

She can only hope they will be proven wrong one day. That they will love and feel none of the shame that had been taught. Midoriya will no longer feel guilt over never giving his mother someone to pass her old wedding dress down to, and Bakugou will not retreat into himself when he feels his body relax at the first contact between his and Midoriya’s hands.

In the meantime, she helps Izuku onto his feet and up to his dorm, even though hers is two floors down and on the opposite side. He hugs her goodnight, body pliant when she pushes him into bed and leaves him to sleep off the migraine he had most certainly developed.

When she succumbs to sleep in her own bed, she will let go of his shame and leave him to bear it on his own once again, and Ochako will have to live with the fact that she will never be able to take it from either of them no matter how much she wanted to.

She will resign herself to watching them love in secret and in pain. and deal with her own shame, for not being able to save them. When their friends tease the boys she will laugh and remind them gently that they’ve always been like that, even before UA. And though they are surrounded by gentle smiles and teasing laughter, she and a select few will know they are wallowing in an amount of shame none of them could ever truly fathom.

Because they were both boys. What a cruel fate.

note —

This is all to say I don’t hate genderbends completely. They’re for fun, just like any other AU. It just feels like sometimes it’s used as a bit of an easy solution for so much of the tension between bkdk.

or maybe im dumb. that too. :p

regardless, i cant ever escape the bkdk angst that runs through my veins ¯_(ツ)_/¯ (snuck in bestfriend!ochako cuz she is important to me regardless of whether or not she's connected to these two lol) (this also sorta ignores the universes where the MHA/BNHA timeline has kind of mostly moved past homophobia in the way we are used to seeing IRL.)

okok im done with notes BYEEEEE <3333

#bkdk #bakudeku #decchan #bkdk angst #bkdk word vomit #how unsurprising of me #i rlly DONT actually h8 genderbends #these guys r just important to me #<3 #neev.vom

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lovedistrict · 1 year

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My now ex gf dated for 5 months. We said I love you to each other. She even got a custom puzzle box that when I opened it on Christmas with her family it said she loved me for the first time.

She had never let another person she dated meet her kid and only a select few have met anyone in her family. I got to hangout with all of them several times and we even had a date with her kid because she trusted me so much.

She also does these rituals that no one she’s ever dated had ever wanted anything to do with them ( she lights candles and meditates basically) I was the only one she trusted to be there for them. We were planning a week long trip later this year that she brought up first. She also told me a lot about the relationship abuse by men she’s had to go through. Which is tough for her of course

She broke up with me the other day. 17 days after we were madly in love. On Feb 1st We were talking about how we process emotions. She sits in them or takes an hour out of the week and reflects. She feels them deeply. I said I know what makes me happy, sad, mad and after about 5 minutes I move on. So she said she doesn’t feel safe with me anymore because she has to be with someone who feels deeply

I’m devastated over here. She broke it off in such a cold and quick way. She practically threw my stuff at me and said it’s over. I couldn’t think so I didn’t get to ask any questions really and now that I can she hasn’t replied to the text I sent. We even both agreed that this was the healthiest relationship we had ever been in. No fighting or getting mad at stupid things. Complete and honest communication even if we disagreed on something. So I’m just blindsided right now and heart broken. I’ve been crying everyday

I know I can’t send her another text or show up at her place…I can’t do that she obviously needs space. But could you give insight to why she ran away so quickly? Without even trying to talk about it more? She just completely changed and I just feel lost. We had even touched on living together possibly. Please answer when you can

Wow. This is difficult because she’s changed completely like overnight, right? From what you said it’s probably one of these. She’s never been truly in love with you and she suddenly realized it and used all of that as an excuse. Or something you said triggered her with some trauma from her past and she did all of these out of fear. The only way of knowing it for sure is asking her. Which you already did. So I’d focus on how her actions were not considerate of you. How she was just so self-centered she didn’t realized she owed you at least an explanation after 5 months together. And how that’s not the person you’d want by your side, right? A person that suddenly changes because you don’t feel emotions the way she wants you to? If that’s what it is. That’s nonsense. And so selfish.

Yeah. I’d definitely try and move on.

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versadies · 2 years

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men of the harem | genshin men x gn!reader

✧༺♥༻∞ YOU HAVE RECEIVED A LETTER, LET’S SEE WHAT’S INSIDE ! ∞༺♥༻✧

salutations. @stellumi’s genshintoon collab event !

addressed. diluc, kaeya, tartaglia, thoma, arataki itto, kaedehara kazuha, albedo, scaramouche, xiao, and zhongli (w/ gn!reader)

content. harem, mentions of violence, mentions of cheating (not by reader), fluff/angst, unrequited love, misunderstandings, mild swearing, spoilers to scaramouche's real name, mentions of evil spirits, cameo of subject two of albedo, emperor!reader, royal!au, slightly suggestive but not enough for me to put a mdni, ooc (?)

words. 10k words

sypnosis. after being scorned by your lover and thrown into power after the mysterious assassination of your father, the emperor, you must marry a person to stabilize your empire. much to everyone’s shock, instead of choosing one person to become your royal consort, you decided to choose 8 young men to join your harem. however, it seems there’s more than just revenge on your past lover who betrayed you.

penpals: @scaraslover @saving-for-xiao @dawgimsohot @kazu-topia @chiruru @aqualesha @renamichii @hoshikistarlight @shenhesl0ver (visit my taglist info if you're interested to join !)

post-script. this is based on webtoon’s men of the harem manhwa and please consider that most scenarios in this fic did not happen in the manhwa. enjoy ! (i deeply apologize for posting this late vera)

masterlist | requests info | remarried empress au

“i’m sure you’re all aware of why you’ve been summoned,” you spoke, your voice echoing through the halls of your throne room. “i would like to talk about matters regarding appointing a royal consort, and yes i agree with you all that it’d help in stabilizing the empire.”

you leaned back to your throne, lips twitching upward. ”that’s why… i’ll be taking a few consorts.”

the nobles of the court instantly gasps, whispering to one another about your decision as a certain duke‘s mouth was open agape.

despite the reactions, you continued speaking. “i think six would be a good number, don’t you think?”

the certain duke suddenly steps forward, still in disbelief with your decision. “but your imperial highness, this is… madness! past rulers who have been thrown to power like you would usually choose at least one – don’t you think that choosing so much will be too much for the empire to process?” the duke protests.

“aren’t you the one who suggested to my father to take more than one consorts to promote diplomacy and to keep the empress in check?“ you asked with furrowed eyebrows. “besides, i’m not the only ruler who decided to take more than one consorts. are we going to forget my ancestors‘ amount of consorts?”

you watched as the nobles mumbled to one another in agreement while the duke stays silent in hesitation, eyeing your right-hand knight who tries not to smile in amusement from the situation.

“do not be so glum about this,” you spoke. “don’t you think this would be a perfect opportunity for some of you to have the emperor as your in-law?”

just you wait, you thought, hands slightly clenching into fists at the thought of a certain emperor as you watch the nobles instantly change their minds and all agree to your decision (except a certain duke it seems).

it’s my turn to make you feel the same agony that i felt when you left me for another, ragnvindr.

DILUC

the man who scorned you, the very reason why you gave up on love. you could never forget the moment when he told you that the reason why he hasn’t returned to your kingdom after so many years to fulfill his promise is because he was actually with a woman who’ll become his wife in a few days, causing you countless number of nights that left you sleepless, thinking why you weren’t good enough for your first love.

you could recall the days when you two were hopelessly in love and never got separated — it was evident that the both of you would end up getting together. you had never thought of what life is like without the love of your life, and he can say the same thing as he holds you in his arms in a protective but caring grip.

you could recall the days when he’d whisper nothing in your ear as he talks about how he’s looking forward to the both of you getting married as soon as the both of you have come of age together, causing you to feel your cheeks warming from those words alone.

was everything… a lie?

you didn’t give a second thought when diluc informed you that he has to leave the palace because of his father’s condition, immediately telling him to come to his father and come back once the emperor is alright. if you held him back from visiting, would things have gone differently? would diluc still be by your side and not by a stranger’s side?

you could never guess that you’d find yourself standing in front of his palace to attend a wedding that isn’t yours.

he was with you since childhood, so what changed? turns out, he was only marrying the woman because it was his father’s last wish before his passing. he even had the audacity to ask you to wait for an unknown amount of years until he files a divorce, then that will be the day when he’ll come back to you, which didn’t make anything better, not when he looks at her as if she’s the universe while he looks at you as if you’re the moon.

as for the woman – goodness, the woman – even invited you to their wedding, oblivious to the fact that the new emperor of the infamous empire was her fiance’s lover who he promised to return to marry once he’s done visiting his ill-father, the emperor of a neighboring empire. you couldn’t bring yourself to despise her because of how genuinely nice she is. you don’t blame the passed emperor for choosing her as diluc’s wife.

you thought diluc was your forever, did he not think the same as well? or were all those words of love that came out from his lips were lies? what did she have that you don’t?

you swore to yourself to never love again, ignoring the way he glances at your way when you don’t look at him. you still look the same as always, he’d thought. beautiful and strong.

you ignore how some of the staff has been talking about how they had never seen their emperor being this expressive when you visited the palace, not knowing that the diluc you knew is far from how everyone in his homeland sees him.

you ignore how diluc confesses about being worried about your safety during your battle against the man who tries to take your throne, too focused on your heartbreak to even process the rest of his words after his confession about being with another.

you ignore how he sends you letters everyday when he has the chance ever since the wedding, throwing said letters aside among the piled up unnecessary documents, not knowing how he puts his heart and soul to those letters you despised seeing.

you ignore how his eyes were on you from his window when you walked away from his palace the day after the wedding as he ignores his heart screaming at him to run after you and tell you that he wants to abandon his empire for you.

but he couldn’t. not when his brain whispers how it’s his fault that he was too late for his father to die alone and how he doesn’t deserve to be with you. that’s why he drowns himself with guilt, not noticing how his most trusted royal advisor told him that his father’s dying wish is for his son to marry the daughter of the grand duke of favonius, not knowing how it was just a trick.

that’s why diluc has to suffer knowing that his step-brother, kaeya, gets to be with you while he can't.

KAEYA

the first person who joined your harem. his name was the first thing that caught your eye when you were reading documents about your potential consorts, and you did not hesitate to add him on the list much to your right-hand’s dismay. you may not know him much since diluc refuses to let you meet him, but that doesn’t stop you from inviting him.

you honestly never expected him to be so… flirty and witty, unlike his brother who’s more shy and calm.

not to mention the fact that you felt like you’ve seen him before — and it surely isn’t in diluc’s wedding — giving you all the more reasons why he’s so mysterious. despite not recalling any moments of meeting kaeya, the only thing you felt from him is familiarity and... comfort, leaving you conflicted and wondering where on earth you met him.

unfortunately you were against finding out, because you’re completely convinced that he’s just here as diluc’s spy due to the constant letters kaeya sends to someone who’s from his home.

it didn’t help that there were certain incidents between your consorts that always manages to have kaeya involved - and he never fails to plead that he’s innocent despite the other consort suggesting otherwise, giving you all the more reasons to doubt him and refrain yourself from spending more time on him while never noticing the mischief laced in the other consort’s eyes that kaeya spots.

you never noticed how he looks at you as though you’re the only thing that matters in this world.

you never noticed how he hopes - and even prays - that you’d look at him among the crowded room and pay attention to him and only him, just like the night during his brother’s horrible reception where you sobbed about how much you love him, your breath reeking of alcohol. yet, it didn’t stop him from feeling like his stomach sprouted butterflies and finally felt like he mattered to someone. ignoring how a part of his head is telling him that you’re just talking about his stupid brother.

you never noticed how he instantly stopped seeing other people for romantic purposes after he met you, instead of sleeping next to someone he’ll eventually forget in the morning, he’s all alone on his bed thinking about you with a smile on his face. who knew the emperor from a neighboring empire would be so cute when drunk?

you never noticed how he wonders everyday when you’ll visit his chambers at night or simply just spend time with him, rambling to his servant about the things he’d be interested in doing with you as he plays with a plushie that he bought in a store of your empire because it reminded him of you.

you never noticed how he stares in jealousy at the stupid consort who’s dancing with you on your first banquet that he arranged, wishing that he’s the consort that’s dancing with you and making every other consorts seething in jealousy.

you never noticed how he’s the one who made the talisman when he gave it to you when you first visited his chambers for a nice chat, excitement rushing through his body that he hides with his charismatic facade that he always puts around you.

you never noticed how he sends letters to a certain prince from another kingdom every single day writing about the things you do that made him go crazy and ask about his advice that could help him win you over out of the other consorts that's blocking his way.

but you did notice, in the end.

it was during the first time you took a stroll with kaeya as a make up for not choosing him to dance with you on the banquet when you heard something that never came out from his lips but instead in your head,

as if you can read minds.

“please don’t leave me again..”

TARTAGLIA

the son of the same duke who tried to protest against your decision to have more than one consort and the second person that you chose to become your consort besides kaeya, much to the duke’s relief.

unlike his father, tartaglia prefers violence over reasoning, something you took note of after overhearing a conversation between him and his servant about how he‘d like to fight the other consorts to “see if they’re worthy to be considered as your consort.” despite his bloodlust, his charismatic personality and loyalty makes it up, something that’ll definitely be useful in the near future for you.

he’s also the first consort that you spent the night after the arrival, much to his delight. it’s safe to say that he felt incredibly disappointed when you said you‘re only here to sleep next to him instead of what he assumed, but he respected your wishes – besides, at least he gets to watch you fall into slumber. who knew the emperor would sleep so cutely?

because of this, every single consort is jealous of tartaglia.

who wouldn’t be? he’s the only consort so far who got to spend your first dance and first night, and he never fails to rub that on his peers’ faces with every chance he gets.

unfortunately, your right hand knight would beg to differ and agree that tartaglia’s on the same page as everyone, since you’re unaware of how the son of the duke always walks past your office, asking the guards stationed if you’re available.

you’re unaware of how he looks at you as if you’re the rest of his life.

you’re unaware of how dull blue eyes stare at your figure as you spar with your right-hand knight, wishing that he’s in his place instead. would you praise his skills in fighting if he was the one you’re sparring with?

you’re unaware of how his memories of what you did for him during his childhood and wanting to see his family again were the only things that kept him fighting for his life when he was trapped in a dark place called the abyss. would you believe him if he told you that he still remembers the time when you told him that you'll gladly marry him when you're older?

you’re unaware of how he thinks of you whenever he sneaks out from the palace, having fun with many commoners around him and watching multiple performances of your empire who all turn a blind eye to the fact that a consort is around. would you be as happy as him if he sneaks you out from your emperor duties and spends time with him and your people?

you're unaware of how he purposely flirts with you and is physically affectionate to you just to fire up a certain knight, whose amber eyes gazes at the consort with jealousy and anger. would the knight be angrier if he were to see you pulling him closer and perhaps place a kiss on his face?

you’re unaware of a side you never got to see from him that only his tortured victims get to see. the screams and begging from those pesky nobles who dared to question your ability as an emperor made him even more alive, yet it never washed away the anger that he felt when his secret agent informed him about how there are some nobles who are on your dead step-brother’s side and are against on you being the emperor. shouldn’t they be grateful that you’re so merciful to let them live?

you’re unaware of how a light shone in his eyes for just a moment when you finally have time to spend with him after so many weeks of walking past your office and asking the guards.

he was so enraptured by your potential skills that he didn't know that his strong desire had reached your thoughts because of his excitement just like what happened with kaeya.

you immediately brought out your sword, and childe could just imagine how thrilling it would be to finally see your strength.

“please tell me you’ll let me fight by your side.”

THOMA

the sweetheart that you dearly care for.

now that you think about it, he’s the only consort you can think of when it comes to being well-behaved around other consorts and loved by many of your servants in the palace, not because of his kindness but also because of his amazing socializing skills. it's scary how he absolutely has nothing wrong and is the perfect royal consort for you.

though, it does seem strange that he’s sometimes around when some of your consorts are causing a scene,

you don’t pay attention to how his eyes look at you as if you’re his guilty pleasure.

you don't pay attention to how a strange crow flies past your window and the guards patrolling around the castle grounds as it heads towards thoma's window, carrying a small letter with its claws that contains the one thing that will make you change your view on the so-called perfect consort. he stares down at the letter that's written by the one person he swore loyalty for eternity: kamisato ayato, the famed prince who was considered your brother. thoma tries to think of a way to convince him that in due time he'll finally make progress in coming closer to you, knowing full well that he couldn’t bring himself to do the one thing that made him come here in the first place.

you don't pay attention to how his hobby of cleaning was just to spend time thinking of his plan to kill you and let his master take over the throne just as he and his mother had always wanted. if he could do that to your father, then he can do it to you as well, right?

no, he can't. unlike your father, you're.. different. unlike the people who died from his hands, you're someone he can't bring to kill without mercy, not when you remind him of his homeland that he'll never get to visit in this lifetime.

you don't pay attention to how his fists clenched when he sees you spend so much time with that knight, who's not even a consort like him and other men who compete for your attention and love, or when he spots you walking towards another consort's room instead of his. why can't he be the one you visit? why is it always the problematic ones you go to and not him, the perfect man you can choose?

you don't pay attention to how he deals with people in the palace who are also a part of the organization and tried to kill you with merciless tortures, making sure that not a single person gets away from trying to lay their dirty hands on you. he convinces himself that this was just their punishments for failing their lord's orders, but he knows the truth deep inside.

you don't pay attention to the number of times he tried to murder you, only for his guilt and heart to stop him from doing so. if only he hadn't grown attached, then maybe he could've been back to his lord’s hidden sanctuary and get ready to help him take over your throne.

you don’t pay attention at all, and it pains him so. if you knew, you could end his misery and he can pay for the sins he had committed all in the name of ayato, the man he swore loyalty to when he was but a helpless foreigner in a foreign place.

you did pay attention by the end of the day.

it was bad timing really, thoma just happens to be finished dealing with yet another subordinate in anger after finding out that they somehow invaded your bedroom to try and kill you in your sleep, not knowing that you happen to be passing by his chambers until your mind has suddenly been flooded by so.. so many dark thoughts.

“that fool should’ve known when to keep his dirty hands from them if he didn’t want to be punished by me. it’s me who should kill them.”

“which death would be quicker, i wonder? poisoning their food won’t do the trick, especially if i end up being the suspect – unless i blame one of those consorts?”

“perhaps lord ayato would let me go to my homeland if i manage to kill the emperor.. then their death would be worth it at least.”

chills ran down your spine when hearing thoma’s thoughts, not expecting him of all people to be one of your traitors in the palace. thanks to him though… at least you now know that your step-brother is alive.

you frown deeply in thought, debating whether or not you should take thoma to the dungeons and let your knight investigate. but then again, he’ll probably curse himself the way your past prisoners did when you investigated about your step-brother being alive or not.

it’s better to just let his anger get the better of him and you can just listen to his thoughts while he’s at it. you thought to yourself, before you return to your bed chambers to start your new plan and not notice a certain man peeking out from his chambers, watching your every move like a hawk.

ARATAKI ITTO

the king of mercenaries.. and one of the only people who can make you laugh.

people are more than shocked when they find out that you have chosen itto as one of your consorts, especially since he’s viewed as the scariest person and most dangerous in the kingdom. it shocked them even more when some would hear you laughing when you’re spotted walking around the palace with him by your side.

at first, you were truthfully wary of how the man is like as your consort, until he talks to you – which you’re surprised of because of how he speaks so casually (much to your knight’s irritation since itto’s talking to an emperor).

it’s safe to say that he’s perhaps one of the only consorts you mostly talk to since you always come across to him. now that you think about it, it does feel a bit.. more than coincidences from the amount of times you encountered the mercenary, but his excuses are pretty much valid, giving you no reason to suspect him yet.

sure, he’s reckless in his own ways, but the way he acts like a gentleman and positiveness makes it up a lot, which everyone doesn’t see. it’s endearing, honestly, to see him come over to you and try his best to make you happy and comfortable with your surroundings.

whenever you talk to the mercenary king, you feel like a normal person with no high status, mainly because of how he treats you as though you’re both best friends and not an emperor he should be polite to. not only did he introduce you to the delicious meal of what people call ramen, but he also introduced you to many entertainments besides opera and jesters, particularly.. his singing and child-games.

his singing may not be as strong as that of an opera singer like yunjin, but it managed to make you amused and have the urge to laugh, causing your knight’s jaws to drop in surprise (surely your humor isn’t that as broken as he anticipated?!). playing games with itto made you feel like a kid despite only playing one or two rounds because of your busy schedule.

nevertheless, he truly does make your worries and stress over your empire and ayato’s situation go away by just talking to him despite his recklessness.

you fail to recognize the way he looks at you as if you’re his favorite book. every time he spends time with you, the more invested he is in getting to know you and love you even more. he makes sure that you always have a smile plastered on your face whenever you’re with him, because it’s what he feels whenever he sees you.

you fail to recognize the fact that he memorized your whole schedule (after forcing his servant to figure it out and write it down) so that he can “coincidentally” bump into you with perfect excuses just because he wants to hang out with you. oh, if only those losers who call themselves your consorts knew how he’s smarter than they think~

you fail to recognize how his eyes would brighten when he opens his doors and sees you walking around the consort halls thinking that you’re on your way to him, only for his face to fall when you stopped by thoma’s room and waited. no books could ever describe how furious he was when thoma didn’t open the door, watching as you rushedly left from the consort halls. just how ungrateful is that blondie for him to not answer the door and let you in?!

imagine his shock when he sees you entering a newbie’s room and never came out until in the morning. does this mean you’ve already slept beside two of your consorts out of eight!? will he be next, he wonders..

you fail to recognize how he often thinks about you and gets pouty each night whenever you don't visit his chambers. his servant is honestly on the verge to try and convince you to come visit the mercenary king, who’s obviously head over heels for you. thankfully, the man managed to reassure his servant that he’s alright, saying how good comes to those who wait.

you fail to recognize how he worked hard on his appearance despite his first time dressing in such formal attire for your first ever royal banquet after your crowning ceremony. his face once again fell when you chose that ginger haired noble to be your dance partner and paid attention to that weird blonde-haired man who's dancing like an idiot – not to mention the audacity the man has for doing a heart shape with his hands towards you! you can guarantee that itto’s the greatest dancer!

unknownst to itto however, you did eventually recognize it.

it was the day after the banquet was over when itto received a visitor, who is none other than you much to his delight! turns out, his servant had lied to you that the mercenary king fell ill and you just had to come over to check if he’s alright, causing the white haired man’s face to turn red and flustered.

you honestly didn’t believe that itto’s actually sick, given that his temperature is normal and isn’t even lying on his bed, but his voice that suddenly appeared in your head made you refrain yourself from taking your leave.

“...you finally visited me after so long..”

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

a skillful poet whose noble name has long faded away and forgotten – except for you, it seems.

it’s safe to say that kazuha was taken back by surprise when he received a letter from the royal palace, eyes widened when it turned out to be an invitation to become one of your very own consorts.

he wonders why on earth someone, let alone an emperor such as you, would even pay attention to him. as well as how you managed to find him just for him to receive your letter despite his great skills in hiding.

although he seeks no luxury, you’re quite an interesting person, he’ll admit that.

hence why he finds himself standing across from you in the palace gardens that he managed to sneak in, the grin plastered on your face says it all: you expected his arrival. it’s concerning how you know him so well, yet he couldn’t help but stay.

he suddenly became more interested the moment a certain name came out from your lips.

tomo. his dearest companion that he felt a connection with back then when he was in his homeland, eien.

“he told me a lot about you in his letters,” you said, giving him a sad smile. “i only invited you to become my consort since it’s the only way for you to come to the palace without anyone being against it. of course, it’s up to you whether or not you’d like to stay here. i should mention that you’ll also be safe from the raiden shogun’s wrath and my guards.”

before he could open his mouth to refuse, you immediately gestured around the garden. “i’ve also heard from tomo that you prefer outdoors than indoors, so the best thing i can do is to offer you full access to my gardens. i can request one of my staff to give you a map since it’s quite a large space.” you added.

kazuha could tell. if it weren’t for the winds and his smell, he would’ve gotten lost when he sneaked in.

“so, what do you say?”

…he supposed it won’t hurt to accept it, right?

not long after that, he accepted your invitation in the end.

you’d like to admit, it was difficult to get along with the man at first. he’s often quiet and isn’t found at his chambers (much to his assigned servant’s panic), which you weren’t surprised about. as time flew by however, you’re glad that the man has started to warm up to you and started talking more, particularly by reciting his poems that he made.

whenever you managed to find him by the gardens, it was always quiet – just the sounds of the calming wind and knights training in the arena nearby whilst never hearing the loud heartbeats of the samurai when he realized you were close.

you never saw how his eyes stared at yours, as if you’re a dream he never wanted to forget. he wasn’t familiar with the feelings he found growing every time you came to visit him in the gardens, but he knew all too well from poems and stories what it is. if he ignores it, will he eventually forget about it? if he acts upon it, will the feeling stay and be remembered?

you never saw how his ears turn red when you lean on his shoulder as you slumber, exhausted from your duties and how soft his voice was when reciting yet another poem. if possible, he would’ve stayed still in his position for a long time for as long as you desire to sleep. plus, you smell.. quite pleasant, really.

you never saw how kazuha actually starts getting into noble manners that he learned when he was still a noble in hopes of gaining favor from your peers in the palace during the banquet, giving him chances in being the most favored out of all your consorts (who aren’t exactly aware of who kazuha is since he’s always outside and away from people).

you never saw how his hand held a luxurious box that keeps a stunning brooch that he bought from a nearby jewelry shop during his escapades at night, thinking it’d suit you well (especially since it has his color). he was eager to give it to you before the banquet ends, or maybe when you chose him as your first partner for your first dance, until he finds himself standing in the background watching you choose tartaglia as your dance partner, shoulders slumped when you decided to take your leave from the banquet not long after.

it took a few weeks before you did receive his gift, letting him put it on top of your attire as his ears turn pink, not noticing how you’re paying attention to his thoughts that have finally come to your head.

“you look even more breathtaking with my color.”

ALBEDO

the great sage who’s somehow entangled himself with your harem.

when you first discovered that one of your hostages has killed himself with a curse, you immediately called for the head priest of your empire’s holy temple alongside your dearest friend chongyun, who both confessed that exorcism won’t do a trick, given that the curse is what they call a “dark magic” curse, which is an assumedly extinct supernatural act that hasn’t occurred for years.

much to your relief, they both recommended you to the great sage, who may be able to help you on your investigations against the current threat of both you and your empire. hence why you decided to throw a royal banquet as a way to invite the great sage and discuss matters with him.

you had never expected the great sage to look so hot.

you were taken back by surprise when he removed his hood, giving you a charming-like smile as he thanked you for saving him from the sudden ambush that had occurred, paying no mind to your reaction to his face.

everything was pretty much a blur, but the conversation ended with albedo offering you a deal that’ll ensure both his safety and your desired information, leaving you no choice but to accept it gladly.

you never anticipated to see the great sage dancing in the middle of the dance floor, catching every single guests’ attention including your consorts by his strange… dance moves, causing your jaws to drop at the embarrassing sight.

it didn’t help that he looked in your direction and made a heart shape with his hands before giving you a wink, causing you to cover your face and prevent yourself from seeing such a performance. you told him that he should do something to catch your attention at the banquet — but not this way! why on earth did he have to do this and embarrass both him and yourself?!

you tried to ignore everyone’s shocked reactions as you walk towards the great sage and offer him an invitation to your harem for giving you such an amazing performance whilst internally dying inside from the embarrassment. you could only dread what others will say about your taste in men.

it didn’t help that you often have to come to his chambers a lot of times, raising a lot of eyebrows from onlookers (especially from your other consorts), surprised that you actually like kreideprinz (albedo’s fake name) that much.

in reality, you only visited him just to discuss matters with him regarding your investigation, too distracted by it to not notice how the great sage thinks more than that.

you were too distracted to see how he sees you as if you’re his most precious hardwork. he could stare at you all day no matter what you do and he’ll still be awestruck. every single thing you do is worth remembering for even if you’re doing nothing at all.

you’re too distracted reading your knight’s reports about your investigation to see albedo playing with his abilities, thinking you’d be entertained by his exceptional magic that his master had praised.

you’re too distracted to see how he often teases your other consorts, telling them lies about how you always come to his chambers for entertainment. he must admit, the most amusing consort out of all is definitely kaeya alberich, who has the strongest feelings towards you more than anyone (which gives albedo all the more reason to mess with him). besides kaeya, scaramouche and xiao are the most amusing ones since albedo gets along quite well with them.

you’re too distracted to see how he sneaks to your room and outside of it to bless it from evil spirits, pleasing him in the process when he caught that traitor, thoma, standing still near the doors of your chambers with a hesitant stance. albedo wonders when that man will find out that one of his love rivals is his actual enemy.

you’re too distracted to see how jealous the sage becomes when you asked him if he could make a talisman for a certain consort, who already gave you one it seems. if it weren’t for his title as the great sage and his determination in impressing you, he would’ve used his old-school magic and put an unharmable trick on the talisman for kaeya to suffer with.

in the end, you didn’t get distracted when you realized one thing about the great sage.

albedo is perhaps the only person you couldn’t read thoughts from even when he has a strong emotion, but then again, he isn’t the great sage for nothing.

you didn’t have to read his mind to know his feeling, staring at his bright teal orbs as his hand is placed beside your head, trapping you against a wall behind you in his chambers. you were just talking to one of your consorts before you suddenly got pulled by albedo to his room.

“do you… have any idea how much i want to be with you, your imperial majesty?” he spoke in a low tone, your cheeks feeling warm from how close the both of you are. his breath reeks of alcohol too, making you wonder if he was drinking a lot at such an early hour.

before you could try to move away from the sage, you suddenly hear the doors of his chambers opening unexpectedly, causing you to look away from the sage’s eyes in surprise–

only to see a small figure of a man entering the chambers with looks of murder.

“...i knew this bastard would hog the emperor.” scaramouche snaps, smiling sinisterly. “but i would never have thought that his twin would hog them as well, aren’t i right, oh great sinister sorcerer rubedo?”

SCARAMOUCHE

if itto isn’t the scariest person in your empire, scaramouche would’ve taken that title instead.

you could understand why on earth your people are so scared of someone such as scaramouche, but you could never understand the cruel rumors about him in his household. besides that point, his way of speech, his posture, the way he carries himself, and everything else about him is every nobleman’s dream son – which isn’t exactly a surprise since his caretaker, yae miko from the empire of eien, had raised him.

given that he’s admired by every single nobles, it’s evident that he ended up a part of your harem despite the rumors.

his attitude was not a surprise when he introduced himself to you, he reeks of confidence and power (and a spark of lightning, it seems) from his stance and voice alone, it’s very much something to admire and be intimidated by nobles.

you’d be lying if you said that you’ll visit scaramouche to spend a night sleeping beside him, because deep down you don’t think you’ll ever do it any time soon since you’re quite unsure if he’s someone who’s considered as your foe or ally.

it’s no surprise that tartaglia seems to know him given that both share the same nobility title. though they’re usually found bantering one another over things. never once did you find scaramouche talking to someone in a friendly manner.

except you, he claims.

“it wounds me that you don’t trust me as such, your imperial majesty,” scaramouche said, letting out what seemed to be an irritated sigh. “fine, how would you feel if i let you call me by my real name whenever we’re alone like this?”

he can tell you were taken back, but decided to hide your expression, causing him to add more. “if it makes you feel better, no one in this world knows my actual name besides my caretaker and someone who was important to me. isn’t this a good step in trusting someone such as me?”

you swirl your drink around, thinking for a moment.

“..i suppose it won’t hurt to know. is your real name embarrassing for you to not let anyone know about it?”

he rolls his eyes, leaning against the railway of his balcony. “of course not. i consider my real name something that is valuable enough to let those i care to only call me that.”

“so… call me kunikuzushi.”

“kunikuzushi,” you spoke, to not let the name get it on the tip of your tongue. “..i’ll call you that from now on, kunikuzushi.” you said with a smile, not caring to see how his eyes slightly widens before the devilish grin on his face comes back.

you never seem to care to see how he looks at your direction as if you’re the forever he desires. he’s impressed that you invited him out of all the people that could’ve been your consort instead despite the rumors that’s always circulating in town. he only accepted it because of how it gives him a chance to have the privilege to be close to the most powerful person in the empire (and because of how he’s interested to know why you chose him).

you never seem to care how he sees you as more than just some emperor he wants to take the role from because he starts to feel for the first time in years. no longer was the numb and agonizing feeling that his birth mother stole from him that made him despise this world, for all he feels is how his empty heart races and how his stomach feels.. strangely good when he’s around you. could you be the one he’s been desiring for all this time?

you never seem to care how his words are less harsher than how it was whenever he’s stuck with one of the consorts, thinking that no, you don’t deserve to see the harsh attitude of his that was created from his hatred to this world and his birth mother, and that you deserve to see at least the small crack of his real self that he hides with the walls he built up.

you never seem to care how it felt like he was back to being an empty shell that roams around the cold halls of his birth mother’s mansion in your empire when he was but a child when yae miko drops by the palace to check up on him (to torture him by reminding him of who he was before entering the palace), only to feel his heart racing again when you held his hand and told yae miko that yes, scaramouche has been comfortable around the palace and has been a good person around you.

you never seem to care how he felt hurt that you don’t trust him enough. did you really not know how much he does?

you never seem to care, but it makes him all the more challenged. he’ll show tartaglia how much you trust him more than that stupid ginger man.

despite being harsh, he’d never go that far towards consorts, so seeing him barging into albedo’s chambers absolutely seething at the sight of albedo shocked you, let alone spilling profanities at the great sage – well, you thought he was the great sage.

“i think it’s best for you to step away from that man, your imperial majesty. ” he said, still glaring daggers at the sage, or sorcerer, who has currently trapped you against the wall. “who knew you’d have the audacity to try and touch the emperor without knowing your place, you filth?”

you immediately brought out your dagger that was strapped to your thigh before pointing it at the unknown person in front of you, who remains unfazed by the situation.

“..you must be my brother’s close friend, huh?”

XIAO

the quietest consort…. and also one of the most reliable ones.

when you first met the man, the first thing in your mind was how pretty he looked. his amber-colored orbs definitely remind you of your knight, who you’re surprised to hear that he knows xiao a lot and is the reason why the consort was in your files of candidates.

the second thing in your mind is how quiet he is. he doesn’t bother spilling out flirts and words of flattery in order to gain your favor and love, though his caring self is what made you favor him a lot. unlike all of your consorts besides thoma, xiao comes from a family of exorcists, who your biological brother praised for their excellent skills, giving you an interest in inviting him to your harem.

just like kazuha, xiao isn’t found anywhere but by the gardens as well, where he sits on top of trees and relaxes. although it’s hard for his servant to look for him, you clearly didn’t have a hard time since the man always appears when you call him, scaring you in the process by accident.

he explains how he’s uninterested to be with people, since it’ll only harm them in the process because of a curse that’s been going around his family for generations to generations because of their ways in exorcism, killing his siblings in the process.

you were quite well aware of xiao’s curse thanks to his father, who explained thoroughly about the curse and gave you a book to read in case you wish to know what to do when he goes through pains, giving you more reasons to visit xiao every now and then to check up on him. sometimes if your busy time prevents you from doing so, you’d send your knight or butler to do it instead on your behalf.

“you don’t have to send your knight or butler to check up on me, your imperial highness.” he spoke as the two of you stroll around the garden. “i’ve dealt with this… curse for my life, i know what to do if i ever experience the pain again.”

“i’m quite well aware of that,” you told him. “but i just want to make sure you’re okay since.. it often worries my poor heart for your condition.”

is it just him, or has his surroundings gone.. warmer?

“...i’ll be alright,” he reassures you. besides, my pains have started to lessen ever since i arrived at your palace.

you don’t realize how much he sees you as his soulmate.

he was too busy devoting himself to becoming the best exorcist to not pay attention to something such as romantic love, but he’s spent time with a certain runaway prince from a faraway kingdom to become aware of love after listening to the certain prince’s songs and poems that he made that actually helped him come through his pains.

it was just like that when he first met you. loving and peaceful.

you don’t realize how much he feels at peace when he’s with you. he doesn’t mind that you didn’t come to his chambers to sleep next to him, but he would be lying if he said that his mind doesn’t trail off to thinking about what it’s like to sleep next to you. would he be able to experience what dreaming something good feels like?

you don’t realize how much it means to him when you accept his gift happily and thank him, it warms his heart a lot when he sees you actually wearing it when he spots you walking around the palace nearby without noticing him. it may just seem like an amulet that gives you protection from evil spirits, but to him, it’s an item that he made with love and in hopes that you’ll like it. he sometimes wonders how others would feel when they see the amulet (that has the same colors as his necklace that he wears on his neck) and realize it’s a gift from him.

not to mention the fact that you always gave xiao painkillers whenever he runs out of it, always insisting that he should tell you if there’s at least one painkiller that’s more effective than the other, not realizing that you’re his painkiller.

you don’t realize how it breaks his heart when you chose tartaglia to become your first dance partner of the banquet, even more so when your attention is only at a blonde man who goes by albedo instead of him, who actually showed up in such a crowded place just for you. does he not mean something to you as much as you are to him?

you don’t realize how he’s the reason why scaramouche found out about albedo’s secret twin getting rid of albedo and replaced him with himself, letting the angered noble come over to the dancer’s room to deal with the twin as he sets out to find the real albedo, who’s most likely trapped somewhere in the palace since he’s been sensing dangerous spirits lurking around recently. he would’ve ignored all this if it weren’t for your safety.

you don’t realize how much it pains him to see you visit half of your consorts’ chambers except his. he hides that from you, but it does hurt that you don’t notice it.

it all washed away one night when you came back from the empire of where kaeya came from ever since you visited the empire for the wedding.

xiao quickly headed towards the scene where he heard the sounds of someone crying, only to see you standing nearby covering your eyes that had tears.

he didn’t know what came over him, really. he was standing on top of a tree before he found himself in front of you, concern flashes through his face. who dares to make you cry so much? never has he seen you in such a fragile state, and he wanted nothing more but to see you happy aga–

it felt like his heart stops when you suddenly wrap your arms around him.

“i..” you sobbed as his breath hitched in response. “i hate him so much. why.. why does he do this to me?”

xiao isn’t quite sure of who you’re talking about. who’s he? what did he do to make you cry so much?

“..i don’t know…” he mumbles, before he hesitantly wraps his arms around you. “but i’m here for you, your imperial highness. whenever you need me, i’m here.”

ZHONGLI

the captain of the imperial guard, also your most trusted confidant and knight. he isn’t a part of your harem, but all of your consorts are envious of him because of how he gets to be with you everywhere you go.

you’ve known him for as long as you remember to the point where he knows you like the back of his hand (or so he thinks). it’s no lie to nobles that he’s someone precious to you both in status and personally, making him one of the only people no one dared to pose as an enemy in the empire.

the both of you are so close that it wouldn’t surprise anyone if you ever caught feelings for him and chose him as your husband, but much to their surprise, you caught feelings for a certain prince, who’s also your childhood friend besides zhongli.

he was with you through thick and thin. through your spar training, coming of age ceremony, escapades from royal banquets to get away from chatty guests, the person you practiced your love confession for diluc to, your heartbreak, the mourning of your father’s death, the battles you spent with him against your step-brother in order to win your throne, your coronation, and of course, welcoming your harem to your palace.

he’s quite knowledgeable and skilled in many activities. he’s actually the reason why you’re interested in opera and had the chance to meet the infamous yunjin as well as the reason why you always drank tea (despite your preferences in drinks). despite your protests, he had always visited your office to give you tea that he personally made, telling you yet another long explanation as to why it’s a good drink for you.

unknownst to him though, you’ve been getting suspicious as you find out more about your investigation. if ayato, who should be dead, isn’t the so-called dark lord who’s after you and your throne, then is your biological brother behind it? if so, is zhongli with your brother?

you don’t get to see how zhongli looks at you like you’re enough.

everyday, he wakes up and starts his day just to see you and helps you with everything he can as he makes sure you’re happy everyday even if he’s not the reason for your happiness. he devotes himself into becoming a better person and protector just for you. even a blind person could see how much he loves you.

you don’t get to see how he struggles to figure out how he feels about you. is this what poets would consider as love?

by the end of the day, he considers his feelings as love. he wonders if you love him back as well, causing him to feel a bit giddy and help him sleep better from thinking about you.

you don’t get to see how his face instantly goes from happiness to sadness quickly as soon as you take your leave after you practiced your confession for diluc, for someone who knows how to talk a lot, he was speechless from how painful his heart was when he finds out that his love for you was unrequited.

you don’t get to see how angry he feels when he sees you crying on your bed, telling him how diluc’s getting married to another without you knowing about it until you received his wedding invitation. the audacity that red-haired man has, how dare he wasted your love for him just for another?! just the thought made his draconic features that he unintentionally revealed on his face – only for it to disappear when you held his hand, telling him to not leave you alone for a moment.

you don’t get to see how smug he feels when diluc sees him holding his hand on your back, a sign of protection and a sign of disapproval against the newlywed man. after all, this is what he gets for treating you like nothing.

you don’t get to see how he was completely against your decision to get more than one consort. just when he thought his heartbreak would disappear, it simply returns so soon. unfortunately for him, he wasn’t able to express his decision since he knows you were only doing this to get back at diluc, who he’s sure will be upset from this.

you don’t get to see how he had a small discussion with your butler, who told the knight strictly that he should keep his feelings to himself since the butler wants nothing more but for you to fully move on from your heartbroken state and rule your empire, telling zhongli that he should leave you alone for now after the butler caught sight of the knight escorting you to your room after you got drunk from drinking wine with him.

you don’t get to see how zhongli makes your meals ever since you two found out about a traitor in your palace. he’ll blame himself if you ever get hurt from something he could’ve prevented.

if there’s a consort he trusts, the knight definitely trusts xiao, who he knows will protect you from harm as well. which led him to persuade the exorcist to give you an amulet that will surely protect you from evil spirits.

you don’t get to see how zhongli was there when he sees you hugging xiao as you cry your heart out as zhongli tells himself that he’s too late to be able to comfort you and that he should listen to the butler. he knows he can’t tell you how he feels for so many years, but it pains him so to try and forget his feelings for you, the only person who gets to make him feel like this.

you do get to see it.

it was one night when you accidentally fell asleep on your desk once more, only to wake up when you felt zhongli carrying you back to your chambers. just how many times have the both of you done this throughout your years together? you couldn’t count honestly, but you always made sure to pretend you’re asleep just to not make zhongli get embarrassed.

however, unlike the times when he does this to you, this moment was different.

instead of exiting your chambers as soon as he tucks you in and letting your servant dress you in your nightwear, he stays still before whispering words that make your heart drop.

“...i wish you good night, my love.”

a few fun facts !!

zhongli and xiao know each other because of how both of their families are quite close together thanks to their mothers, who knew each other ever since they were children.

scaramouche, albedo, and xiao have an unspoken alliance with one another and respect each other a lot after an unknown incident. it’s quite an unexpected trio, really.

ever since rubedo, albedo’s secret twin, replaced his brother with himself, presence of dark spirits have grown stronger unlike before, catching xiao’s attention in the process and starting to grow suspicious of “kreideprinz’s” behavior, which started at the same time as the strong presences of dark spirits.

every single consort is aware of itto’s tendency to watch them from the doors of his chamber but paid no mind since it’s not something to worry about.

kaeya’s unfortunately a victim to most incidents that have occurred in the harem hall. sometimes he’d be involved in a fight, lost an item that he assumes was stolen by someone such as scaramouche, and so on. it honestly worries the man that it’ll change your perception to him.

tartaglia and scaramouche are in a one-sided rivalry, with scaramouche being the one who sees the ginger-haired man as a rivalry while tartaglia pretends to be oblivious of it and acts as though they’re childhood friends that have reunited.

albedo’s the first consort who manages to see thoma’s facade, especially since he caught a sight of a certain dark omen in an accessory of the blonde-haired man’s.

kazuha is a loner and wants to keep it that way, though he does find himself getting along with scaramouche and xiao, who he had conversations with during the royal banquet.

the only consorts who spend time in the training grounds are tartaglia, arataki itto, and sometimes kaeya, leading them to start getting along with one another and became good friends (and rivals when it comes to you).

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

A-Yuan wasn’t the only child among the Wen Remnants, just the youngest.

Children's Day - ao3

Lan Wangji carefully scooped up the boy out of his hiding place, tucked beneath a pile of stones, sick with fever and fast asleep.

It was a good hiding place. If Lan Wangji hadn’t played Inquiry and demanded to know if there were any living beings around in this cursed place of death, he would never have found the small child.

He remembered him – this was little A-Yuan, who Wei Wuxian had taken down into town to play, the one Lan Wangji had bought all those toys for in his confusion, the one who called him rich-gege. Barely more than two years old, having never known anything but war.

He was all that was left, now. There was nothing else left in the battlefield.

No one else left.

Lan Wangji closed his eyes in pain.

I’ll care for him for you, he promised Wei Wuxian’s ghost, wherever it might be now. Now that you cannot.

I’ll take him back to Gusu to raise as my own – wishing you were by my side.

-Earlier-

“Sect Leader!” one of his aides cried out when he staggered back into camp. “What – who’s that?”

Jiang Cheng looked down at the girl in his arms. She was – four, maybe? Five? He had no idea.

She looked a bit like Wen Qing.

“I found her hiding in the corner of the battlefield when she made a noise,” he said hoarsely. “The Wen sect remnants…by the time I got there, they were almost all dead already, all her family. She’s – she’s young. It didn’t seem right.”

Wei Wuxian always liked children, he thought vaguely to himself as he looked down at her. It wasn’t so much of a surprise that he would keep one there…in fact, if he thought back to that horrible meeting they’d had that one time he’d come to the Burial Mounds to try to talk to Wei Wuxian, he thought he remembered there being a small child there. This must be her.

She was bigger than he remembered, but that was what happened with small children, wasn’t it?

“Her surname is Wen?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng snapped automatically, and his aide took a step back from his vehemence. “The Wen sect is dead, you understand? All of them. The cultivation world refused to allow them to live, that much is obvious enough. Her surname…”

He looked down at her.

I failed Wei Wuxian, he thought grimly. I won’t fail his legacy.

“Her surname will be Jiang.”

-Earlier-

“We found this child hiding in the Demon Subduing Cave,” one of the guards reported, looking nervous. “Lianfeng-zun – what do we do with them?”

Jin Guangyao frowned down at the child, judging the child’s age to be about five or six – maybe seven, considering the likelihood of malnutrition at the Burial Mounds. If they were any younger, he would’ve said that the child ought to just execute them as useless; any older, and he would’ve had no choice but to declare them an enemy combatant, and thereby order them executed.

At this age, though…they were still young enough to be taught to forget their current surname, and to learn new loyalties, and yet old enough to perhaps remember a little of what they had learned, living as they had for a few years with the inventor of demonic cultivation.

Jin Guangyao glanced at the papers in his hands, full of barely legible scribbles, laying out powerful new spells and interesting ideas. They would help Xue Yang with his work – but not as much as a helper would, and naturally they’d just brutally executed all the other ‘helpers’ that might have been available.

Not exactly Jin Guangyao’s personal preference, but he wasn’t the one leading the Jin sect army.

Still, his father, who had been the one leading, had retired to his tent, and now Jin Guangyao was the one with the power, left to be in charge of mopping up. That, in turn, gave him a little more leeway, which meant he could implement his own thoughts, rather than badly thought out instructions.

“Put the child in my tent,” he said, and smiled. “The poor thing must have gotten lost and entered the battlefield – after we arrived. You understand?”

The guard saluted deeply. “Lianfeng-zun is kind and beneficent,” he said, and his expression was worshipful. “I will tell the others that the child is from some distant Jin branch.”

Jin Guangyao hadn’t intended for him to do that, but – well, he couldn’t exactly refute it now, could he, and anyway there were worse things to happen. Everyone would know that he had kindly taken in some orphaned child of war, which would be good for his reputation.

He smiled and nodded, and thought of the future.

-Earlier-

“Well, shit,” Nie Mingjue said, staring at the trio of children: nine or ten years old, he thought, maybe a little older, two girls and a boy. They stared back at him, wide-eyed and terrified – they were very clearly trying to sneak off the Burial Mounds down the back way.

Nie Mingjue rubbed his face, glad that he’d insisted on doing the forward scout work before the attack tomorrow morning himself rather than let it go to someone else. He hadn’t wanted to come to this blasted place in the first place, being that he still wasn’t sure exactly what had gone down with Wei Wuxian, who’d been a good man once. But good Nie cultivators had died at Lanling City at Wen Ning’s hands, the Jin sect claiming that that brutal attack was at Wei Wuxian’s instigation, and at the Nightless City at Wei Wuxian’s hands directly, and he didn’t have any evidence to exculpate the man, either; he had no grounds to look the families of those Nie cultivators in the eye and tell them not to pursue vengeance against the man who had slaughtered their brothers and fathers and sons, sisters and mothers and daughters, like they meant nothing.

They deserved vengeance.

Just as he had, for his father.

But at the same time…

“You’re all surnamed Wen, I take it?” he asked, and they slowly nodded. “Dafan Wen?”

Another nod.

“Wrong answer,” he said, making a snap decision. This wasn’t like his father at all, not really; he had wanted to kill Wen Ruohan, who had done the deed himself, while these children clearly hadn’t done anything. “Swear to me here and now that you won’t seek revenge for your sect or family, and you can be surnamed Nie instead.”

They looked at each other.

“Your family didn’t send you to run away because they wanted you to take revenge,” he said. It was a guess, but he could tell from the way their shoulders sagged that he was right. “They wanted you to live. Well?”

They swore.

He took them home.

-Earlier-

She tripped and fell flat on her face.

“Hey, girl!”

She looked up, eyes wide with terror – she hadn’t expected to be caught so soon – but the cultivator in front of her didn’t strike her down. He was a young man, just a few years older than her, and he looked nice, kneeling to help her up.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Did you get lost?”

Lost? From where would she get lost, exactly?

Despite that, she nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Here isn’t a good place, though – we’re going to have a battle tomorrow…can you tell me where you’re from?” He frowned. “Or – can’t you speak?”

An idea suddenly came to mind, and she shook her head, lifting up her hands to mime signs like the ones she’d seen Lady Wen and her brother use sometimes when they needed to talk without disturbing others.

“Doesn’t talk,” he murmured to himself. “Clothing of white, ripped all to ribbons –”

She’d torn out any trace of the red sun. White was a common color, but she was old enough to know that she couldn’t let anyone know she was surnamed Wen.

“Oh, I’ve read about this before! Are you a bird yao that’s cultivated to humanity?”

What?

She’d been thinking of trying to pass as a traumatized war veteran, but she was only fourteen, after all; it wasn’t very believable. Of course, it was a lot more believable that bird yao – who would leap to that conclusion?

“My surname is Ouyang,” the man said, smiling brightly at her. “You should come back with me – I can teach you to speak, and we can give you a name…how about ‘Luo’ as a surname? That has to do with birds. Or we could surname you Bai, instead, since your clothing is white! Or maybe -”

She smiled helplessly at his nonsense. What a silly, cheerful man! Maybe she’d overestimated his age, he couldn’t be more than two or three years older, at most, and his brain was clearly not in the right place, filled up to the brim with romantic stories and adventure tales instead of facts.

It was a nice change, actually.

She accepted his hand as she stood.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

-Earlier-

Lan Wangji had returned home and submitted to a dreadful punishment. The elders he had injured on Wei Wuxian’s behalf were either in treatment or recovering.

As for the rest that had been at the Nightless City…

Many were dead.

Lan Qiren landed in the Burial Mounds, lips pressed tightly together.

He knew he was taking a risk in coming here to Wei Wuxian’s lair – no matter what Lan Wangji thought, whatever good points he’d had in the past, the man was now little better than a mad dog. He’d caused the death of three thousand people just the day before, three thousand innocents that hadn’t had anything to do with anything; why would he hesitate to attack his old teacher?

There was already talk of a siege – Jiang Cheng himself had promised to lead it, to wipe off the stain on the Jiang sect’s record, and the Jin sect had been right behind him. Even Nie Mingjue had been dragged in against his will, suborned by his sect members’ need for vengeance. As for the Lan Sect…Lan Xichen had looked so stricken by the thought that Lan Qiren had volunteered for the grim duty, despite Lan Qiren having never been much of a fighter and even less of a general. He intended to take only the smallest possible contingent, and to limit their work as much as possible to cleansing the dead rather than killing those who remained there – that much, at least, he could do for his nephew.

Either way, though, no matter his powers, Wei Wuxian would not live out the week.

If Lan Qiren desired vengeance, he need only wait.

And yet, here he was.

Alone, practically unarmed – and here nonetheless.

An old woman came out from the cave and squinted at him.

“It’s over,” she said sadly. “Isn’t it?”

Lan Qiren looked at her. One of the Wen remnants that Wei Wuxian had surrounded himself with, he assumed; the ones he’d given up his comfortable life for, claiming he was only acting as a righteous man ought. Perhaps he even had thought he was, back then.

Perhaps he really had been, back then.

“Yes,” Lan Qiren said, and cleared his throat. “After what he did at the Nightless City – the verdict is unquestionably death. But the rest of you…there are armies coming, and armies are not known for their leniency, especially not on passerby with the wrong surname. But they’re not here yet. There’s still time to flee – if you go now, you could take on a new surname and find some quiet place to live on.”

Lan Wangji had said they were civilians. Civilian life was to be prioritized above all else.

Lan Qiren was only doing what he must.

Despite his well-meant warnings, however, the old lady shook her head.

“There’s nowhere to go, and we won’t give up our surname,” she said, polite but stubborn to the last. “But thank you for taking the time to come here to tell us.”

“Wangji said that there were children here,” Lan Qiren insisted, ignoring her refusal. “If you won’t flee with them, at least send those that are old enough out on their own, and hide the younger ones. Tell them to forget their surnames – most people won’t rampantly murder children, so there’s a chance they’ll make it through, and live. Can you deny them that, just for pride?”

That gave the old woman pause.

“We’ll do what we can,” she said, and then eyed him. “How good are you at medicine?”

Lan Qiren frowned. “I can’t provide care –”

“She’s already dead. Come help anyway.”

The woman in question was not already dead, but dying – she was in her late teens, seventeen or eighteen at most, and she was in labor. From the glassiness of her eyes, the redness of her cheeks, and the threadiness of her pulse, it was clear that infection had long ago set in. It was not an exaggeration to say she was dead, little better than a corpse.

She was little more than a child.

“I don’t want her to die alone,” the old woman said. “But if you stay with her, I can use the time to try to take care of the rest. You’re not wrong, I suppose – the children, at least, deserve a chance to live on, even if it means leaving our surname behind.”

Lan Qiren looked down at the woman, unconscious already and unlikely to ever wake, and yet still whimpering. “And her child?”

The old woman looked surprised. “Can a child born like this still live?”

Lan Qiren had almost no medical training beyond the most superficial basics that were the necessity for any battlefield or night-hunt, with one sole exception: he had supervised the births of both his nephews by himself with little aid – his brother’s wife hadn’t wanted anyone else to be present, possibly in an attempt to prematurely enter her grave, possibly just out of spite. He had studied very hard in the days leading up to those births, and knew far more on the subject than most men did.

“It’s possible,” he said. “Unlikely, but – possible.”

He hesitated for a long moment.

“I can take the baby,” he finally said. “Pass him off as some war-orphan child of distant Lan cousins, sent to me on account of their deaths. I could raise him, or else give him to my cousin to raise; he’s got a large enough family that no one would question it.”

“Why would you do that?”

Lan Qiren looked at the woman who was dying, little more than a child herself. “Because of the children I can’t help.”

The old woman was quiet for a little while.

“Very well,” she said, and leaned forward to whisper the name the young woman had thought about for her child into his ear. “That works with Lan as a surname, wouldn’t it? That’s not bad.”

“Not bad at all,” Lan Qiren agreed, and rolled up his sleeves, settling down beside the girl. “Not bad at all.”

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #jin guangyao #nie mingjue #lan qiren #original characters #my fic #my fics #children's day #some untamed elements

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sweet-demiboi · 3 years

Note

Well. Mhmmm, I was thinking of being the other King of Asgard and maybe also a God? (maybe the God of Knolagde). And maybe the Avengers need help so Thor asks his Husband😜 and that of course, means that the Avengers will meet him and maybe kinda fangirl? Oooh I'm so stupid, I forgot to ask, do we need to describe our personality? Cause if so I'm rather shy.

Also feel free to message if you need any clarifications.

Thanks!

Thor x Male!Reader

Plot: Requested

Warnings: Hm... bad English? A bit angst, but really not much

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

You were having trouble in your mind. You sat outside in the beautiful gardens of Asgard's palace, admiring the beauty of the nature around you. But it wasn't able to clear your mind of the concerned thoughts you were thinking about for the past days now.

Thor had promised to inform you about everything that was happening in his life on Midgard but he had neither sent a message nor had he visited Asgard by himself. You were seriously concerned about your husband.

You got up from the chair you were sitting on before and started walking around the gardens. No other god or goddess disturbed you as they could clearly see that you were trying to focus on your problems.

At least that was something you could do really well, after all you were the god of knowledge and wisdom. Different scenarios played in your imagination and you didn't notice the person standing next to you until they laid a hand on your shoulder.

Your head went straight up and in the matter of just a few seconds, you had pulled out your dagger and were putting it against the intruders throat.

"Whoa, keep calm, (Y/N)!", Thor laughed with raised hands. You sank your weapon and looked at him with an accusing look in the eyes. "Why didn't you tell me about your days? I was concerned.", you asked with crossed arms.

Thor smiled but looked a bit defeated at the same time "I am sorry, my love, but I wasn't able to send you a message. The mission we're working on right now is quite hard.", he stepped closer to you and took your hands in his own, big and warm ones. His blue eyes had a pleading look in them "I should have told you about it earlier, I'm sorry." A small smile spread on his lips as well as on your own.

"I'm still mad.", you informed him "But not as mad as before." Of course your husband could've handle the situation otherwise but everyone made mistakes sometimes although Thor didn't want to hear that. You decided that you had forgiven him, but wouldn't tell him now.

"So, why are you here?", you asked "Obviously something's up." The god of thunder smiled, you knew that he loved it, when you acted smart "I need your help with that mission I was talking about before." You nodded slightly and and started slowly walking with his hand in yours. "Tell me about it.", you demanded, so he told you:

"Hydra is active again, it's a terror-group, which managed to hide from us for quite some time now, but we managed to get a few hints from some... shady people. If we could crack the code they gave us, we could handle them! This coded message can tell us their location! But sadly... we couldn't crack it until now."

"That means you want me to help you with that message?", you understood. Thor nodded "You're the god of knowledge and wisdom!", he took both of your hands in his and stood before you, excited and with pleading eyes "Please! Please, (Y/N), help me!" You smirked slightly and whispered: "Of course."

Thor smiled brightly, cupped your cheeks and kissed you pasionately on the lips. Oh boy, how you had missed that! His warm lips on yours, his body pressed against your own and rising together in that bubble of love for each other. His tongue found its way into your mouth and played eagerly with your own. You slung your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself.

You looked deeply into each others eyes after this kiss. "Let's do that code!", you whispered against his now swollen lips, which showed you a big smile now.

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

Over all this excitement you had forgotten that you were rather shy towards new people, so you grabbed the hand of your husband while Heimdall was bringing you to earth. Thor's thumb brushed slightly over the back of your hand, calming you a little bit.

Suddenly you stood on the top of the Avengers tower, Thor had already told you about. The outlook you had over New York was stunning and something you had never seen before. "It's beautiful, isn't it?", Thor asked next to you and you were only able to nod. He closed your mouth with putting a finger under your chin, smirking when you blushed slightly.

"Oh, Thor, you're here again!", a man with sunglasses and an expensive looking suit walked over to you. It had to be Tony Stark, who your husband had also talked about. "And you must be his charming, smart husband he always talks about!", he gifted you a smile and put out his hand for you to shake it.

"That's right, Tony Stark.", you shook his hand a bit nervously, but he didn't seem to notice. "I guess Thor already told you about our problem?"

"I wouldn't be here, if he had not.", you answered and Tony laughed, already guiding you inside. You weren't pleased by seeing even more people in the conference-room, where you had just walked in. The looks were on you, the other Avengers seemed interested in your presence and someone was walking towards you.

"Hello, my name is Steve Rogers.", he shook your hand "Thank you for the cooperation.", he acted a bit nervous himself, but you just smiled and introduced yourself too.

"Where's this code I'm here for?", you asked. A red-haired woman in a black suit came to you and gave you a piece of old-looking paper. "We tried to figure it out with countless programs, but nothing worked.", she had a slight russian accent, and looked you up and down.

You took the paper out of her hand and looked briefly at it "No wonder, I don't think any computer or even program was invented in the time this language was spoken, Ms Romanoff."

"Wait a moment, it's a language?", a man, Clint Barton, asked with crossed arms. "How could you figure that out so fast?", another one interfered, who had to be Sam Wilson. "The structure and signs in the text are similar to old-greek although it's way older. It might be an old japanese text, as there are still some people who can translate it. Give me an hour and you'll have a translation."

The group was starring at you with surprised looks, which made you a bit uncomfortable, so you looked over to your husband, searching for help. Thor came right next to you and requested the others to get out that you could concentrate. "Can we keep him?", Bucky mouthed to Thor, who rolled his eyes smilingly, but you felt very flattered as Thor had told you that the 'man with a metal arm' wasn't trusting people fastly.

"They already like you.", Thor commented, when everyone had gotten out of the room. "Looks like so... it's calming that I'm not the only one who is nervous." Your husband laughed a little and caressed your cheek. "I wish you good luck with the code.", you smirked "I don't need luck." Thor smirked back "Have fun." He kissed you softly and left the room too.

You weren't mad anymore. How could you? You loved him.

I found time a bit earlier! :D Hope you enjoy it, @marilynmonroefanfics

#thor x male reader #thor x male!reader #requested #fluff #marvel #the avengers #mcu #gay #loveislove

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allthatyoulove · 3 years

Text

A Heavy Feeling

Bucky Barnes / Female Reader

Summary: A fight with Bucky leaves you feeling alone.

Includes: angst angst angst, tiny fluff towards end, mentions of not eating

Words: 2k

A/N: A little angsty drabble I’ve had sitting in my drafts. I put female reader but it’s pretty general :) Please check out my prompt list! You can request as many prompts as you’d like! Hope you enjoy the story! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed, thanks for stopping by :)

~~~

These last few days have probably been some of the worst in my life.

My life thus far has been far from easy, but it’s hard to remember a time where I felt as low as I do now.

I sit at the dining table, using my fork to mess with the food on my plate. Silverware clinks against plates, conversations are lively. Warm lighting fills the room, the huge window allowing a glimpse at the night sky. Everyone is eating and talking, laughing and smiling.

Everyone except Bucky and I.

They know why, which is probably why they were quick to put space between us as we all sat down for dinner. I was the last to come to the table, everyone stopping mid-conversation to look at me with pity. I sat down, and haven’t spoken a word to anyone since. They had eventually ignored the heavy tension tethered between Bucky and I, deciding that constant talking would prevent the chance of an awkward silence crashing over the entire table.

I had told them I could eat in my room, that I didn’t want to make dinner weird for everyone else. They insisted I come. I couldn’t ask Bucky to not come to dinner either, especially when I knew how much he liked sitting down with everyone, taking an hour or two to enjoy the company of who had become his family. No matter how mad I was at him, I could never ask him to give that up.

So that led me here, sitting at the edge of the table, messing with my food. Bucky was sitting across from me, to the very left edge of the table. The farthest seat from mine. Being so far from him was probably worse than sitting right next to him. I only glanced at him a few times, which I was proud of myself for. He was in his black leather jacket, with a black shirt and pants. Everyone had gone out just before dinner, but I didn’t feel up to it.

Seeing Bucky come through the door with a smile on his face made my heart tighten with pain, before I became disgusted with myself on how selfish the reaction was.

He sat at the table now, not talking with anyone. His arms were folded, and he hadn’t touched his food either. Everytime I looked at him he was focused on the same part of the table, zoned out. His brows were dropped, his lips in a soft frown. His eyes were filled with sadness, almost a puppy look. I could feel his eyes shift from the table to me every so often, trying my hardest not to meet his eyes.

We had only been sitting down for around 5 minutes, and I felt like I was suffocating. That’s all I’ve felt these past couple of days.

I’d asked him for space, said I needed to think things through. He respected that and listened, hesitantly. He didn’t go out with everyone as much, staying in his room save for the times Steve dragged him out. I was better at turning down the attempts of them trying to get me to go out. I had barely left my room.

I knew he was hurting, I could see it in his eyes and in the way he carried himself. I wondered if he was hurting as much as I was. I couldn’t sleep at night, couldn’t leave my bed. Couldn’t think without him next to me. Couldn’t think with him next to me.

I set my fork down, sighing to myself as the group was heavily engaged in conversation. I became alert of every action I made, feeling Bucky’s eyes on me once more. I gulped in anticipation, not thinking before drifting my eyes to his.

Our eyes met, my own filling with tears. His eyebrows pulled together, his own eyes filling with emotion. His mouth opened to say something, before I abruptly stood up, picking up my plate and taking it with me to my room. I could hear the conversations pause, confused sentences being muttered before another door shut, a few doors down from mine. Bucky’s. He must’ve left right after I did.

They eventually continued talking, but I stopped listening. I tossed my plate on a table, almost breaking it. I paced across my room, back and forth. I let the tears fall freely down my cheek, bringing a hand up to my mouth to be quiet. I sat down on the floor, holding my face in my hands. Not a single thought went through my head, but I couldn’t stop crying.

A few minutes passed before I had no more tears to shed, quiet and dry sobs leaving my mouth occasionally. I calmed down, using the breathing exercises Bucky had taught me. I almost started crying again at the thought, but I had nothing left in me.

I sat on the floor, sniffling and breathing deep breaths. Staring at the ground, no particular thought staying for more than a second.

My head shot up as a soft knock came to my door. A single knock, nothing more. Almost a tap.

I didn’t need to ask who it was, I knew. I held my breath, staring at the door. He said nothing. I crawled over to the door, holding my ear to the thin wood. I could hear the thumping of his heart, feeling it against the door. He must’ve been sitting against it- on the floor as well. His shaky breaths went through the wood.

I sighed, sitting with my back right where he was on the other side. I set my head on it, producing a tiny thump sound. The same sound came from the other side a second later.

My hand went up to my mouth again, sobs threatening to break from my throat. It was so painful, knowing he was sitting with me on the other side of the door. Not being able to touch him. The sound of his heartbeat comforted the pain slightly. I breathed in and out, in and out. Trying to calm down. I lost track of how long I was sitting there, scared he would leave first. I decided I couldn’t handle it if he did.

I didn’t try to listen to what he did on the other side of the door as I suddenly stood up, striding over to my bed and throwing myself under the covers. I didn’t come back out.

My eyes shot open, sitting up. The moonlight shone through the window the size of my wall, illuminating the covers. I had fallen asleep.

My head had found its way out of the covers, as they now sat loosely below my ribs. I rubbed my eyes with one hand, running it through my hair. I sighed as I looked around the room, yawning. I spotted my plate still sitting on the table. I got up, grabbing it and walking over to my door. I slowly opened it, cringing as it creaked. I peeked out, looking both ways down the hall. It was almost pitch black, save for the window that was providing light sitting at the end of the hallway. The coast was clear.

I closed my door slightly, walking to the kitchen. The dining table was clear and cleaned, leaving no trace of dinner earlier.

I put the food into a container, writing my name on it before shoving it into the fridge for later.

I turned around, walking back to my room. I slowly opened the door, hearing something. I paused, waiting. I didn’t hear anything. Was it my creaking door? I went to start to open it again when I heard it.

Whimpering.

My entire body froze for a split second before I strode straight to his room. I knew that sound, and I knew what it meant.

I cracked his door open, peeking in.

Bucky was laying in the middle of his bed, the sheets below his waist. He was shirtless, his vibranium arm wrapped over a pillow. The image pulled on my heart strings, tying it into a knot as he twitched, his other arm moving at his side.

I walked over to the side of the bed, putting my hands on it to hold myself up as I leaned over him.

“Bucky.” I whispered. His face turned just barely, still asleep. Still in his nightmare.

It had been so long since he had one, I forgot what to do. I reached a hand up, setting it on his metal bicep and shaking it lightly.

“Buck-”

I was halfway through his name when he turned around, pulling me into the bed with him and flipping me on my back. I gasped as he put his forearm against my neck, applying pressure. His eyes had snapped open, frantic and scared. Violent.

My arms pulled at his arm, shooting him pleading eyes as I struggled to breath. A few seconds passed before he let out a sharp breath, slumping as he seemingly came back to his body. His eyes shot open even wider, instantly taking his arm off of my neck. I gasped for air, breathing hard and fast. His eyes shot between mine, confusion and sadness and regret painted over them.

I stared at him as I caught my breath, waiting as his mouth stayed open- trying to find words.

He closed his mouth, backing away and sitting on the edge of the bed. I stayed in my spot for a second, cautious. I was unsure of what to do until I heard a sob escape him. I instantly sat up, my hand going to his shoulder. I tried to pull him to face me, but he remained facing the wall. His head was in his hands, his shoulders starting to shake as he cried. I walked on my knees, my chest against his back as I wrapped my arms around his waist.

I laid my head against his back, listening to the sound of his heart and breathing deeply- hoping he would soon follow. He continued shaking as I soothingly ran my fingers across his stomach, patient. Waiting.

“I thought they had stopped.” He let out, his voice cracking.

“I know. I know, baby.” I said, holding him tighter.

A few minutes passed as he gradually stopped shaking, occasionally twitching as he copied my breathing. He picked his head from his hands, as I raised my own from his back. I moved my body so I could look at him from the side. His eyes were puffy, his nose and cheeks red and tear stained. I brought one of my hands to his face, bringing it to meet mine and rub his cheek with my thumb. He stared at me, at my lips. I wiped the tears from his face, looking at him with love. He returned it, looking at me as if it was the first time.

“I’m so sorry.” He said, his voice rough and filled with regret. I shook my head, rejecting his apology with the motion. He opened his mouth to speak again when I brought his face to mine, our lips meeting.

My eyebrows scrunched together as I pushed my lips into his. He didn’t hesitate in kissing me back, his hands coming up to hold my face, to bring me closer. His lips perfectly molded into mine, the salty taste of his tears mixing between our tongues. Our noses bumped into each other repeatedly as we messily tried to both apologize and profess our undying love into the kiss.

I slowly pulled away after a few minutes, resting my forehead against his as I caught my breath. We looked at each other’s lips, chests heaving as my thumb rubbed his cheek. His hand drawing circles on my back. I broke out into a smile, him following me. I fell on my side back onto the bed, bringing him with me.

We laid across from each other, an inch apart. I brought my fingers down to his lips, pulling his lip and hearing it fall back with a pop. I looked at all of his features, knowing them by memory but still wanting them forever seared into my brain. I missed him.

Being in his room with the moon casting light over us, wrapped in his arms, I felt so happy. After days of nothing but a hole where my heart was, I felt complete. I was home.

We had a lot to talk about, but it could wait. I wanted to enjoy this moment.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst

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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

Text

On the Coffee Table - It’s Not Entirely Comfortable (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: NSFT, creampie, rough sex, degrading, slight praise, “daddy”, “good girl”, marking - like, biting and love bites, jealous/possessive sex, squirting, slight blood? Nothing major though, also there’s three tongues in here and once again, a knotted dick/knotting. If you are a minor, DNI]

[AN: I started this at 2 am trying to finish it after downing some melatonin and only finished it now. Please tell me if I translated wrong!! I unfortunately only speak English. Doja Cat - Freak. This is 5.3K words.]

Part 1 Part 2

Jack trusts you so, so much. That much is apparent. It’s been about a month or so since he took you away from your old life, and you’ve never been happier. In fact, it’s been nothing but good things!

Why do you say that? Jack is so sweet, caring, and attentive. He knows what you want when you need it, and still, you’ve only ever kissed him.

In a sense, it’s maddening, but at the same time, it’s kinda cute. You like that he’s willing to go at your pace, and you like that he’s so mindful of how you’re feeling at any and every moment. You’re just really, really happy he chose you.

When that man from the grocery store came up to you, trying to speak to you… Well, you thought he just wanted some help! Honest to goodness, you had no idea what he was trying to do. Which is quite odd, considering you’ve been considered a goddess in your own right figuring those tells from miles and continents away.

You stood at the cart, waiting patiently for Jack to come back from the other side of the grocery story because something you’d wanted slipped his mind. So, you familiarized yourself with the fresh produce instead, looking over the pretty colors before that cute little shower system kicked on paired with the little rain noises as they gave water to the vegetables.

You were honestly minding your own business when some man came up to you, a shy smile on his face.

“Uh, hello, ma’am?” He started, a pack of berries in his hand.

You whip around and turn your attention to him, putting down the leaks as you did so. “Yes?”

“Do you know how this is pronounced?” He said. “Is it… A-kai..?”

You motioned for him to come a little closer - close enough for your shoulders to brush up against each other. Your eyes scanned over the words. “Oh! It’s açaí ,” you giggled as you read over the words.

“A-sigh?”

“Açaí,” you repeated with a small smile. “See? Say it with me,” you said, as you watched the man’s face light up.

“Oh, okay, açaí,” he finally said correctly, that same smile bloomed on his face. “Y’know, you’re really good at this,” he smiled.

You lit up. “Thank you!” Beaming, you gave him your full attention.

“It’s nothing, did you take Spanish?” He inquired, still maintaining his close distance to you.

You nodded vigorously. “I took four years of Spanish in high school. Señora Chika always said I had an ear for language,” you said in a semi-serious tone, index finger tapping your right ear lobe in a way that made that man blush.

The man smiled back. “That’s so nice to hear,” he continued, building off your words. “Look, I’m gonna be going to Mexico pretty soon, it’s a work thing,” he brushed off, “and I wanna know if I could get some of your tutoring services?”

You blinked a few times. “Me?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “I think you would make an excellent-”

“An excellent what?” Jack’s clipped voice cut through, his glamour’s eyes glaring deeply at the man who dares breathing in the same air as you. When he saw the man pause, he waved his hand a bit as if to signal him to hurry it up. “She’d make an excellent what?”

“It’s… It’s nothing,” he mumbled before brushing past you and Jack. “Didn’t know she had a boyfriend, sorry,” he harshly apologized as he disappeared back into the aisles.

You tilted your head as you looked up at Jack. “What about his Spanish lessons?”

Jack sighed in deeply and took hold of the cart, tossing the thing you asked for back into it. “Él no quería clases de español.”

Your eyes widened in response. “Oh.”

Jack was silent to you the entire car ride back home, and you wondered if it was because that man came up to talk with you. You frowned in the seat. You honestly didn’t know that man’s intentions! You didn’t mean to push Jack’s buttons like that, in fact, you didn’t even know that man was flirting with you! He came up asking about pronunciation, not a number!

You pouted all the way until you made it back home, helping him bring the groceries back in as you did so.

“Put this one in the freezer,” he said as that frown continually pulled his lips downwards.

When you opened the fridge, he tsked his tongue.

“The freezer.”

You relented and did as he asked. Once it was in, he nodded at the now empty bags and began balling them up to throw away, maybe reuse and put in the bag drawer before leaving you to yourself.

And that’s how the rest of the day went. Jack looked like such a stick in the mud and you couldn’t stand it. What was eating him up so much?

You decide to confront him after dinner when the two of you are sitting on the sofa, watching some stupid program you don’t really care for. You just know you like being near him.

“Why are you being such a jerk?” You ask out of the blue as the program moves to commercials.

Jack visibly tenses before he relaxes again, raising his eyebrow. “Excuse me?” He deadpans, almost surprised you have the gall to speak to him in such a manner.

You huff and cross your arms over your chest as you turn fully towards him, brows furrowed and face cross with frustration over his behavior. “You heard me the first time,” you reply. When you watch his expression turn from vague amusement to slight anger, you backtrack. “I just - why are you so mad at me?” You finally ask, your eyes dark and stormy. “What on the gods green earth could I have done to offend you so greatly?” You huff, arms still crossed and face determined.

Jack lowers his eyebrows and reclines back, trying to give you the illusion that he’s not interested in your challenge. “You wanna rethink that tone?” He hums. “You’re messing with fire.” There’s a slight tease that laces his words and you catch it ever so slightly.

You’ve heard that tease before. “Maybe… Maybe I wanna feel the heat,” you murmur, voice dipping to something low and sultry. You uncross your arms on your chest and move your hands over to his lap.

Jack watches you carefully as he feels your index and middle fingers walk up his thigh and to his chest. “You’re gonna get burned.” His voice is so much lower and more alluring than whatever he was showing to you before.

Your eyes sparkle as your fingertips walk up to the neck of his hoodie, hooking in it and pulling slightly as if you’re asking him to take it off. “Maybe you’ll just have to kiss it better,” you mumble, bringing your lips closer and closer to his.

Jack doesn’t move and instead, allows you to lean in further and further. He’s got a budding smirk on his lips as you draw closer, his dark sockets watching you with intrigue.

You finally press your lips to his, eyes closing as he invites you further and further into him. You smile through the kiss, and giggle when his hands hook around your waist and sling you onto his lap, your thighs now resting on either side of him, bottom planted firmly on his thighs.

“You’ve been such a bad girl,” he mutters through the kiss as you move more fervently against his lips, his clawed fingertips now digging into the curve of your ass.

“Have I?” You breathe against him before smashing your lips back onto his, your heart rate already picking up and drumming wildly in your chest. You feel it’s harder and harder to breathe as he practically crushes you against his chest.

“You have,” he reaffirms, briefly disconnecting from you. “And that means you’re going to get punished for it.”

You practically squeal in delight as Jack’s sharp claws dig into the hem of your shirt and travel upwards, cutting through the fabric like it’s nothing. The torn fabric drops from beside you like it’s weightless, leaving you just shy of being exposed.

“You want me to break this too?” He hums, his fingers lightly feathering up your back to the clasp on your bra.

“I don’t care,” you giggle, leaning into his warmth.

Jack hums again and decides on unclipping it, briefly cooing in amusement as you lean back on his lap and slip the thing off before tossing it over your shoulder. He whistles deeply as he gazes at your chest. One of his hands plants back down on the curve of your ass before sliding back up to cup your chest, his large hands practically engulfing your breasts in their entirety.

You giggle once more and move your hand upwards to rest on top of his, gripping him gently and pushing him just a bit harder as he fondles you. You feel a rush of excitement every time his claws just barely ghost your nipples.

“No,” he suddenly says, his hand leaving your bottom half to pry you off of him. “You don’t have a right to touch me tonight,” he states as if it was nothing. He gestures to your hands. “Keep them on your thighs or on the back of the couch,” he commands, watching as you pout and settle on gripping your thighs. He smiles devilishly at you. “Good girl.”

You break your pout for a moment before he squeezes your breast, making heat rise to your face. The warmth that he gives off is almost intoxicating. You’re almost lost in it when he suddenly leaves, picking you up and off his lap, almost roughly placing you onto the far end of the sofa. You’re looking up at him with wide eyes as his fingers hook into the waistband of your pants.

He hesitates.

“Well?” You egg him on. “What are you waiting for?”

And just like that, Jack is tearing your pants off, his claws slicing through the material like it’s nothing. You watch as he towers over you, snaking in between your legs as he pries them open. Jack’s face goes dark as he cuts off your underwear, his clawed fingers tracing your already glistening cunt.

Your mind goes blank when you catch him smirking and three long, thick, inky black tongues slip from his mouth, twirling and twisting against each other like snakes as they creep over each other, dripping with clear saliva. The tip of the longest tongue - which you recognize as the middle one - slinks forward and broadly licks you from top to bottom, making your thighs tense on instinct. Then, it takes a few more teasing licks, mostly building you up, wondering to see if you’re getting impatient, testy.

“EJ-” you barely wisp out before the middle tongue finally slips in past your already puffy lips, slowly, dragging against your walls lightly moving back and forth as it slips deeper and deeper in.

You let out a ragged moan at the sudden contact, thighs tensing once more. This action garners Jack’s attention and his arms maneuver under your slightly propped up legs, his claws digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. It’s not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to remind you of your place. You bite your lip in pure ecstasy as his middle tongue wiggles inside of you, thrusting light as it does so, his second tongue lathering your lips up in his saliva and applying delicious pressure to you. His third tongue begins to prod your pearl, and when it finally touches, you hiss in the contact.

You honestly didn’t realize just how warm he was. It gently circles your clit before taking slow, languid kitten licks, working you up to little circles that render his hands free to keep you from bucking him. Your wandering hands, which you had been gripping in vain on the cushions of the couch for support, feel useless under your iron grip. On instinct, your hands fly down to Jack’s head, wanting to push his face in deeper but he pauses.

His middle tongue stops twisting and curling inside of you, it’s no longer hitting that spot that has you seeing stars and his other tongues have retracted entirely.

You pout. “You’re such a meanie!” You exclaim as you throw your head back down onto the arm of the couch.

He shoots you a look as his tongue begins to retreat from your pussy, almost as if he’s asking if you want to rethink that statement.

You feel a heat rush to your cheeks.

He gives you that look again, eyebrows lowering and lids halving. There’s a faint smirk on his lips as he seemingly gestures to your hands, telling you to keep them to yourself. Jack is telling you that you aren’t allowed to touch him right now.

You glance away before he hums against your aching cunt, his tongue retreating from you just a little faster. You relent. “I’m sorry,” you mumble.

His brow raises. ‘What else?’

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you finally say before cutting yourself off with a loud gasp as Jack’s tongues are once again on the assault. His middle tongue is fucking your pussy with a heat you didn’t know possible, and you can barely even think as he rubs and sucks at your clit with his others. You feel his lips lightly graze you every now and then, his shark-like teeth coming dangerously close to nipping you but you don’t care.

In frustration, you ball your hands in fists and throw your arms over your head, struggling in vain to not touch yourself or Jack as he works you closer and closer to the edge. Your pussy feels like an ocean by how hard he’s working you, and the sounds that come out of your mouth are just downright sinful.

Jack’s thumb rubs small circles on your thighs, almost as if he’s complimenting you for not touching him before he works you closer and closer to the edge.

You clamp your eyes shut and arch your back as he removes his second tongue from your lips and wiggles it in with a powerful thrust from his middle tongue, the two intertwining and combining, bringing a new sensation to your overloaded cunt. Sweat beads all over your body as he thrusts a bit harder and flexes, the sudden thickness making your stomach and heart flutter.

His third tongue remains playing with your clit, circling and licking.

You can practically hear Jack goading you to cum.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whine, your thighs threatneing to clamp shut but Jack’s strong grasp holding you wide open and accessible for him. “Fuck!” You cry out again, back arching once more, hands balling so hard into fists you feel like they’re going to fall off and a raw cry of ecstasy pouring from your lips as you release onto his face, coating his tongues and face in nectar.

The white hot pleasure continues to bead and wash over you as his tongues begin to clean you up, the middle still refusing to leave your creamy cunt. It makes you tense, and that gets a soft chuckle rumbling from the back of Jack’s throat.

After he was sure he slurps you clean, Jack slowly, almost teasingly, removes his tongues from your cunt and then licks his lips like the bastard he is. He looks so smug. “That wasn’t very fast,” he notes as his lips begin to press kisses to your slightly bruised thighs, his teeth gracing your flesh every now and then.

You pout as you begin to sit up on shaky legs, body feeling like jell-o. “Give me a chance,” you challenge.

Jack raises a brow before dropping it, his face leaving from in between your legs and drawing closer and closer to yours. “I don’t think whores should get chances.”

You immediately bristle and smash your lips to his, hands angrily grabbing at his still clothed form, almost goading him to take it off. You hide your squeal of delight as he kisses you back just as fervently, his large hand groping aimlessly for yours.

Jack grabs your wrist and brings you down to his pants, allowing you to rub the large bulge that’s grown as he ate your pussy.

You stifle your giggle and unzip hi, after you worked on his belt - it’s not like this is the first time you’ve done something like this - but when you reach in and feel for him, your eyebrows raise slightly.

Jack feels you pause and laughs, effectively breaking the kiss. He pulls away from you to look at your face. “Go ahead. Take it out.”

Gently, your hands peel back his pants as he makes minimal movement to help get them off and easier for you and you are greeted to an absolute monster. He’s not even rock solid but you can tell he’s huge. Interestingly enough, there’s also piercings in it - you recognize the ones on the length of his cock as ladder piercings followed by a ring at his tip. Your face rushes with heat when you see he’s got a thick knot as well, already waiting to fill you up.

“Not what you’re used to?” He teases, his legs open as he rests back on the couch, waiting for you to touch him.

Your fingers gently trail and crawl up his muscular thighs before you wrap your fingers around him, taking note of the texture on his cock. It wasn’t anything like a human man’s, and that made you excited. That same coiling white hot heat began to pool in your lower stomach as you slowly began to pump him.

“Spit on it,” he states in passing.

“Yes, daddy,” you reply, lips pursing as you thickly spit onto his head. Your thumb sneaks it over his dark dock that fades almost beautifully into his actual skin tone - you take notice of the silver specks that look like stars - and begin to grip him just a bit harder. You watch Jack’s expressions for anything of approval or disdain when you realize he’s not going to give you any satisfaction. You’ve been a bad girl. Of course he’s going to make you work for it.

“Use your mouth,” he then cuts through. “If you even think about using your hands, I’ll bite you.” He’s only half teasing. He absolutely would draw blood on your pretty flesh. His large, clawed hand that was gripping the back of the couch slinks upwards and over and buries itself onto your scalp, both soothingly and roughly guiding you down to his precum covered tip.

You open your mouth as wide as you can, mouth salivating as you finally taste him and the metal that decorates him. You’re so careful as he begins to pump your head on him, tongue flatly covering him in your spit as the head of his cock gets closer and closer to hitting the back of your throat. You struggle to breathe through your nose as he pushes you down harder and harder.

Jack hums out deeply as you suck him, your tongue swirling when he finally brings you back up. He switches hands eventually, the hand that had been holding your head now with its fingers trailing down your bare back as he cups the curve of your ass.

‘What on earth is he doing-!’ You moan against him as he twitches in the back of your throat as his ring finger and thumb slowly pull your lips apart just enough for his index and middle finger to slip in, filling you - but not to your limit. You squeeze your legs together and feel slick once again leak down your thighs as he finger fucks you while you still struggle to breathe on his cock as he pushes you down rougher and rougher.

In a way, you become his toy as his fingers make quick work of you. Your mind is lost in a lustful haze and you don’t even recognize he’s practically pulled your mouth off his cock as his fingers thrust into you harder, his nails so close to cutting you but instead, curling upwards in the best ways. Your face rests pathetically on his lap, your ass in the air as he trades his ring finger for his pinky and slips it into your needy, aching cunt.

“What a slut,” he whistles as you breathe raggedly against him. “I haven’t even fucked you properly and you’re rocking against me like a bitch in heat,” he cruelly observes, stifling his amusement at how you buck back in tandem with him. “Would you have treated that man in the store like this?” He asks, his voice dipping down to something sinister.

Your mind peers through the fog and you weakly shake your head as his fingers continue to fuck you. “Of course not,” you manage to squeak out. “N-Never, no one could make me feel like this,” you breathe out before squeezing your eyes shut, clamming your legs even tighter together to attempt to give your swollen clit some pleasure.

“You’re lying,” he states in a sing-song tone, his fingers roughly thrusting into you, curling upwards and rubbing you intimately, making you see stars. “Liars don’t deserve to cum,” and just like that, he’s pulling his long, thick fingers from your greedy cunt.

You gasp and look up at him almost wantonly and certainly pathetically. “EJ,” you begin before his other hand presses to your lips.

“You know better than to call me that,” he chides.

You swallow your pride, gradually composing yourself to a sitting position. “Daddy.”

“Better.”

“Please,” you start, moving off the cough and onto the coffee table. You turn around, planting your hands on the glass, poking your ass up and wiggling it side to side in an attempt to entice him, “please. I’ve been… I’ve been bad.”

“Just bad?” He hums as he stands up, palming his pierced cock for a moment or so, hissing as his precum weeps from the tip and onto the cheeks of your ass.

“I’ve been really, really bad,” you continue, still wiggling your hips and ass, swaying ever so slightly.

His tip just barely ghosts your entrance, hand gripping your hip. You feel his claws on your stomach, just barely poking the skin, ready to draw blood. “I think you’ve forgotten who you belong to,” he murmurs. “Why don’t I show you?”

You glance back over your shoulder and look at him with absolute desire and lust, nodding fervently. “Yes, daddy, please.” Your breath hitches as Jack’s hips sharply dart forward, filling you and stretching you almost painfully as his sheer size envelopes your form entirely. He’s still inching inside of you - you haven’t even reached his knot yet - and your arms almost wobble down on the coffee table as he piles you into it.

“Silly girl,” he tuts as he loosely backs up his hips and shallowly thrusts in again, making you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut in both pain and pleasure. “You’re always gonna be mine.”

You’re not even able to challenge the notion because he begins to absolutely ravage you. You feel like you’re stretched almost impossibly wide as he fucks you against the table, his breath picking up and becoming something more feral as you become a toy, an object, as he uses you. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth as you rest your cheek against the cool glass, chest pushing against it and leaving marks as you grip as tightly as you can onto the opposite edge of the table.

Jack begins to grit things in a language you don’t understand under his breath as he thrusts into you harder, his veiny cock pulsing inside of you as he drives in deeper and deeper. His balls slap against your clit, bringing you that much closer as he ruthlessly uses you. Judging by his tone, you assume he’s insulting you. “Fucking whore,” he seethes as he pulls you harder and harder against him, muscles tensing and all cares of breaking the coffee table being thrown out the window.

The tall, muscular, grey skinned man leans over you and begins to harshly breathe in your ear, his teeth nipping at the shell as he rolls his hips into you harder. The sound makes thick, meaty claps, almost sending you flying forward from the sheer force but him holding you back anchored you. “I can’t believe you’d even look at another man this way,” he continues in that same language, his lips and teeth leaving your ear and to your neck, nibbling before finally roughly biting down and sucking. It’s going to bruise. When he detaches, he harshly whispers to you again. “Wanton and waiting for someone else other than me, what the fuck were you thinking?” Jack harshly questions before biting yet again into your neck, his claws drawing the faintest of blood that drips like rubies down your skin.

You cry out in that same pleasurable and painful ecstasy and weakly meet his thrusts, barely able to think through the sheer force of him. “I-I-I’m sorry!” You cry out as one of his hands reaches your clit, fingering it as his balls continue to slap against it, making your legs wobble. “I’m sorry for making you mad, daddy!” You exclaim, finding yourself cut off with how his hand leaves your clit and snakes back up to your mouth. His fingers are coated in your juices and his - and he forces your mouth open.

“Lick them clean,” he harshly demands, hips still smacking against you. His length twitches every now and then, and the drag of his piercings feels so delicious against your stretched out walls.

You mumble against his fingers and lick your tongue on him, careful not to cut yourself on his talons as he shoves them deeper into your mouth. You suck on them, closing your eyes once more and feel tears well within them simply from the overload of pleasure.

When Jack pops his now clean fingers out of your mouth, he lifts you like you’re weightless and pops you off his cock, thoroughly amused at your bewildered expression before he plops you back down onto the coffee table, your legs still spread wide open from him, cunt still aching and hungry, absolutely needy for him to fill you to your brim.

The glass feels cool against your back as you realize he’s flipped you over. Your chest doesn’t feel as cramped anymore, so that’s nice. You’re barely afforded a moment with your thoughts before Jack is planting his hands on your left side and the other cups under your ass, lifting you slightly before pushing his thick, veiny cock back inside of you.

And you see it.

He’s building your lower abdomen out just from hsi size alone, and the thought, the image, the feeling, it makes you moan out again. Heat spreads over your entire body as Jack roughly works you up again, his cock bulging your stomach and weeping precum as you tighten your legs around his waist in vain, attempting to grasp onto something - anything to anchor yourself.

Your heart rate is flying, racing and your breaths are just picking up. You almost forget to breathe when Jack is back at the crook of your neck, biting, nipping and sucking, his tongues traveling over your slightly salty sweet skin like salt water taffy as you come closer and closer to breaking.

“Come on,” he hisses, hips roughly thrusting into you, making you gasp each time. “Squirt for me. Make daddy happy,” he continues, accenting each word with an even harsher thrust, stealing your breath each time. He grabs your wrist when you attempt to play with your clit and chides you with a snarl before finally rubbing you in a way that brings you over your edge.

You scream as his knot finally pushes past your bruised, puffy lips and practically becomes swallowed whole. The pain turns to pleasure as tears well in your eyes as you release all over him, sweet fluid splashing all over you and Jack as you vice grip his knot.

Jack pants out as he ruts into you as you squirt all over him, his knot still pushing into you with such hunger, filling you so much further than what you think is possible before he curls against you, his large form wrapping around you as he roars, releasing thick, creamy, white hot liquid into your needy cunt.

“Fuck, Reader, fuck,” he sneers like a mantra, hips weakly bucking against you, still very much connected by the knot as he continues to unload oceans of the warm, creamy liquid into you.

You feel tears roll down your cheeks from the sheer pleasure as you wrap your legs around his waist even tighter, nails raking against his back as you mumble his name and take in his deep scent. He’s otherworldly. You don’t even mind that Jack is still lighty rutting into you as he continues releasing, teeth bared and eyes shut in the pleasure your body is giving him.

When he finally empties himself fully into you, he breathes out deeply and rests his forehead against you, gently, tenderly, sweetly.

You feel hot, much too hot, and the only thing keeping you cool is the glass of the coffee table. You attempt to move off of him, to somewhere more comfortable when you wince in pain. “Ow! What is that?” You grumble as your eyes glance down to where Jack still remains buried inside of you.

He sighs out and follows your gaze. “Knot,” he states simply. “It’s gonna hurt-” He’s barely able to even get the words out as you’re already working on getting him out of you, wincing and hissing at the pain as you remove yourself off the thick, bulbous knot. Tears once again well in your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation, and Jack’s shaking his head as if to say ‘what did you expect?’

“I swear,” he mumbles as his thumbs gently wipe away your tears, not even noticing how his creamy cum pools down your legs and practically creates a waterfall onto the coffee table and onto his once immaculately clean floor. “Don’t force it out next time,” he grumbles as he slowly stands up, stretching slightly.

“Sorry,” you apologize, mind still hazy from the pleasure.

Jack relents and picks you up like you weigh nothing, already subtly checking if you’re hurt in any way from him and the rough coffee table. “It’s whatever,” he hums, holding you in his arms, simultaneously pleased and displeased with how harsh he was. But at least you smell like him. “C’mon, let me take care of this,” he offers, gesturing to the scrapes, cuts and bruises that are blooming on your body due to him.

Not wanting to say anything, you sleepily smile up at him and burrow into his chest. You look up at him.

“What?”

You yawn slightly. “Was I a good girl?” You ask playfully, resting your head on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat pick up.

Jack chuckles quietly. “You sure were.”

“Did I make daddy happy?”

Jack purrs slightly as your fingers brush against his cheek. “Without a shadow of a doubt.”

#eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #nsft #creepypasta scenario #x reader #reader insert #eyeless jack headcanon #ej

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Text

Charred

Horrortober Day 7: Shock “You look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

Ah yes. Angels. Complicated beings, I love them. Randomizer sure gave me an interesting combination for this day, but I am not complaining :D Also, if you are one of the people leaving a comment on my posts, please just know you are everything. I love you ♥ Even if they are in the tags, I am so happy to read your thoughts and feelings, it really helps so much to stay positive and motivated! ;;

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Corrupted Angel, Mild violent outburst Characters: Simeon x Reader

Angels aren't human.

How could you have forgotten?

Running through this godforsaken hallway, you were constantly blinded by lights. Little remnants of Simeon's power, one you didn't know he had. "I should have known better," you thought as you shielded your eyes from another flash caused by an orb to your left. If only the holy magic Simeon was able to use wasn't that harmful to your vision. If only he wouldn't use it on you. If only you never let it come this far.

But how could you have known? You thought you two were friends and like-minded people when you got closer to Simeon as you two attended RAD as exchange students. You weren't that kind of sinner; you never gave yourself hope there could be anything beyond friendship. And you weren't looking for it either. But to dismiss his exalted status as well, that one was on you. Of course he could use magic that was dangerous to you, especially with how little Simeon could understand human emotions.

Sure, he could crack a smile at a joke, show sadness, and give comfort, but he only did what he learned to do, feigning his sympathy. He didn't mean to hurt anyone with it, but it just wasn't in him to feel as humans do, or else it was threatening to defile them. Angels aren't human, they couldn't feel emotions like you did, and when they did, well, this is what happened.

Simeon was a mess. He was beside himself, trying to figure out what was wrenching his body. Ironically, it had been Lucifer who warned you about this. He kept himself brief when talking about angels and corruption, not wanting to open his own wounds. But he still made a point to tell you that it was overwhelming and maddening to have lived for centuries and only then regaining an emotional conscience. It war pain. Suffering. A change that would take months and years to overcome.

And it was all the scarier how quiet it made Simeon.

He didn't tell you what was happening, and you didn't notice it, busy with your duties and the brothers. You should have seen it! You blamed yourself for not being more careful as his friend, but it was already too late. When he started to demand more of your time and attention, glaring at the others for taking up his space by your side, it should have rung some alarm bells. It was almost painfully obvious that him getting more touchy when you were together and antsy when you pulled away was a warning of what was to come. Maybe you chose to ignore it. Perhaps you thought your friendship could survive him being irrational and angry, snapping at you and others at times.

But by the time Simeon became what he wasn't supposed to be, he had already kidnapped you somewhere strange and magical, just as twisted and scary as he was now. It was like an endless dark, ancient castle. Rooms with high ceilings and tall windows looking into the nothingness around the building. The insides were decorated, but the colors everywhere were constantly shifting, nauseatingly so. Sometimes white, sometimes grey. Gold accents, then copper. The temperature was hot when you were awake and cold when you slept. You knew it was magical and tied to Simeon, but that made it all the more uncomfortable and scary. You didn't want to experience this. You never asked for it! Part of you knew what was going on, and it made the realization worse.

There had been moments of clarity in his eyes when you pleaded with him to get a grip, but they fogged over with emotions an angel shouldn't have. When you tried to reason with him, he got jealous over the argument that others would come looking at you. "You're mine!" he screamed, and then his eyes cleared as he regretted his words, leaving you alone abruptly before you could say another word. He was ashamed and scared, you had seen it in his expression, but he still came back as if nothing happened.

On the surface, he was still the Simeon you knew. The one you loved. But he was so quickly offended and angered by now that you only grew more worried every day. Suddenly he started locking your room or would sit and watch you sleep, and you were scared of this angel that wasn't an angel anymore.

So… you ran.

At the first opportunity, you ran. The hallway seemed endless, and you didn't know where you were going. Flashes went off every few steps, and you ran into a few amenities blindly. Even if it was pure madness and wouldn't help either of you, you couldn't do this. The longer you stayed, the worse Simeon got. You needed to find help for him—and for you. That was the only way. The others would know what to do! They could do something for Simeon that you weren't able to, give him stability and support him in these hard times. You were just a human and didn't know if Simeon could remain an angel after all that happened, but if he could, that's what you wished for him from the bottom of your heart. You never intended any of this to happen, and secretly, you didn't want to be the reason for it.

"AH!" with a loud shriek, you were caught by a slice of light right in front of you. It was like a slit opening up, but even brighter than the orbs that had exploded before that. You could recognize magic when you saw it by now. Simeon's magic. Flashy, dazzling, unbefitting of the tumult he was going through. Simeon was far stronger than you expected him to be, but you realized now that you took his calm and sweet demeanor for weakness, when really, it was mercy.

Tumbling backwards, you landed on your side, your arm throbbing as you slowly tried to get up again. It should have shocked you more to see the person slowly stepping out of the light, but you could barely see anyway, only recognizing the voice as he spoke up. "My, you look like a deer caught in the headlights."

Finally, the light shining at you terrifyingly bright vanished, leaving only you two behind in the warped hallway. It took you a few blinks to recover from it, tiny sparks flying through your vision when you looked up at Simeon. Other than the dark corridor, Simeon was wearing his pristine, white clothes. Pure and amiable. Nothing like the inner tumult he was battling, and still, he looked nothing like the Simeon you knew. The kind Simeon. The one you loved.

You feared he was already gone.

Around you, the colors of the castle shifted to nightmarish black while accents turned into a deep red, all while you and Simeon never broke eye contact. He was walking towards you, hand on his chest and smiling in greeting. You once loved his reassuring smiles, the encouraging message they delivered. But this one was menacing and cold, as was his voice when he spoke up again.

"Where are you going?" he asked curtly, right to the point. Biting your lip, you only looked away. You wanted to argue, but good could come out of that? When you cracked your room's lock, you thought it would take him longer to find out. Long enough for you to form a plan, but it only now crossed your minds that the lights you encountered could have been like security cameras for Simeon to check in the case you ever did break out.

"There is no leaving this place, my dove. You know this. Why are you testing me."

"Why are you keeping me here?" you asked the same question he ignored so many times. Though this time, he indeed had something to say to it.

"It's dangerous out there. Demons will get to you, blemish your skin with their marks and rob you of your life. Aren't you worried at all?"

"I'd like to see for myself what I can do out there," you retorted firmly. "I think you're losing it, Simeon. You are nothing like you were when we were students."

Confronting him may not have been the best idea as his once so kind eyes turned moody, smile turning into a frown as you mentioned the past. "No, I am better. I can protect you now. I take care of you. You owe me more respect if you think I've gone mad. The only thing making me mad is you!"

Gulping, you looked at him. He was prideful now too. It was painful for you.

Simeon was slipping further and further. Every passing second was destroying him.

"Simeon, please," you whispered, pleading with him from the bottom of your heart. "I want to help you! B-But I don't know how! I need help to help you, I need to get out!"

"You're not going anywhere," he decided, cutting his hand through the air in a gesture signaling finality to his word. Kneeling down before you, he pulled you roughly into his chest, pressing your head against him. If there was any good that came out of the change, perhaps it was how open he was now to touches. You longed for this, for something longer than just a hug when you two met. But your heart was throbbing out of devastation now, rather than jumping from joy.

"Please get help," you pleaded, gripping his clothes. "I won't leave you, but please ask the brothers or Lord Diavolo for help, Simeon!"

"Never say their names again," he hissed at you, an unfamiliar hostility in his voice that brought you to tears. But Simeon held you as you cried into his chest. His comfort wasn't helpful, but what else did you have to cling to? If not for him, you would be alone and abandoned in this realm, and you had to painfully admit that he was indeed taking care of you. Good care. In his own, twisted way.

While you were still crying, Simeon carried you back to your room, laid you in your bed, and tugged you in. He did so with a frown deeply lodged on his beautiful face, the wrinkles so unfitting for an angel. But a small hope remained inside of you that you crying would make him see reason. Instead, he sat by your bedside as you two stared at each other, eventually muttering that he was going to get you some food before leaning down and kissing your forehead. You hated this affection. Actually, you hated that it was under these circumstances.

When Simeon got up, he left you without another look back over his shoulders, and you sniffled, the tears never drying out as you looked after him. So cold, so… lonely. He was in pain too, he must have been. If only there was a way to reverse it. To make him see reason and to calm his aching. You wished you could have helped him, at least a little bit. As a human, was there nothing you could do? Maybe just take some of the sins he was living through! As normal as they were for you, they were killing him from the inside.

The intense light from before flashed up as he opened the door to your room, blinding and stinging in your eyes. Still, you were already crying, and it was hard to avoid your gaze from Simeon even now. It was the first time you noticed his wings, usually concealed by magic, but as he used them, they came into plain view. You had believed until the last second that maybe there was a way to help him. To save him from this. But you were a little wiser as you looked at the feathers sprouting from his back. His beautiful, large wings.

Charred-black.

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