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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

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Baby Fangs

Synopsis: Baby Alethaine is severely sick, and Astarion is afraid his daughter is going to die.

Tags: hurt/comfort, dadstarion, dhampirs

Alethaine's age: 5 month

Thanks @queenofthespacesquids for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion has never been so afraid in his life.

Not when he was dying in the streets of Baldur’s Gate. Not when he thought Tiriel had gone. Not when Cazador had inflicted tortures on him.

It just can’t compare to the fear of losing a child.

“She needs to make it till morning,” the healer says. “If she is alive by sunrise, she will get better.”

“But can we do anything?” Tiriel looks as if she is going to fight. “There are healing spells, potions, anything!”

“And most of them aren’t fit for a five month old child. Astarion, Tiriel, I give you my word. I’ve done everything I can. There are probably some clerics and wizards who can heal your child immediately but none of them live in Daggerlake. I am sorry.”

The healer walks away, leaving a dreadful silence in the house.

Astarion sits on the bed, clasping his hands together. Of course, things couldn't be this good. Of course something had to go wrong! How could he have been foolish enough to believe that things could be good for him?

His little daughter, Alethaine, is such a miracle, such a gift. When he first held her in his arms, he dared to hope that everything would be all right from then on. And now they tell him she's dying? That she would be dead by morning?

Alethaine whimpers weakly. She is already too tired to cry.

Tiriel looks terrible. She is a warrior, a fighter, but for the first time in her life, she has no enemy to kill. The enemy is her daughter's fever, and she can't beat it the way she beats monsters.

The baby starts coughing.

Astarion doesn't need to be a vampire to feel his daughter's pain. Her muscles are too tense. Her breathing is ragged and her heartbeat is too weak. Alethaine is suffering at this very moment, and there is nothing her parents can do about it.

Can’t give her medicine. Can’t soothe her pain.

There is a grip of death around her tiny heart and neither Tiriel nor Astarion can unclench it.

Tiriel sits on the bed, cradling Alethaine in her arms. Astarion wraps his hands around them.

“So what do we do?” he asks.

“We wait,” she answers. Her voice sounds exhausted.

He nods.

Yesterday, Alethaine was perfectly healthy. She tried to sit up, but each time her head proved too heavy and she fell on her back. Then her black eyes clouded over and a fever rose. She refused to eat and only cried like a wounded animal.

“What if she doesn’t make it?” Astarion asks.

Tiriel doesn't answer and he sees tears flowing down her cheek. “We will keep living. Could you please bring a blanket?”

Astarion reluctantly lets them go and picks up a thick fur blanket from the floor. Then they sit together with their backs against the wall, covering their sick daughter with the blanket. Only a desperate cough echoes through the room.

Children die all the time. Mostly little kids like Alethaine. Daggerlake isn't a very big town, but Astarion knows that at least three babies have died this year. From disease. Small children like this are too vulnerable. It happens all the time.

There's a chance that tomorrow Astarion will have to dig a grave and put a tiny bundle in there that never had a chance to grow up.

It's so unfair that it makes Astarion want to howl.

"Astarion," Tiriel touches his curls. "Let's talk. The silence is killing me."

“What do you want to talk about, my sweet?”

“I don't know… Anything.” Tiriel places the girl in his hands and Astarion flinches sensing the heat of Alethaine’s body. Fever. A terrible killing fever. “Do you think she is a dhampir?”

“She is an elf like I was before I died.”

When Tiriel was pregnant, he read as much as possible about dhampirs. Deadly and fast, half-vampires don’t need blood and can live in the sun. But they have vampiric strength, can walk on ceilings, and regenerate much faster than mortals. No wonder vampires are often jealous of their children.

But at the same time, the life of a dhampir is full of hardships. Neither a vampire, nor a mortal, they are doomed to be alone. Once they feel bloodlust for the first time and fangs replace the canines, they are outcasts often disowned by their own mortal families.

But does it have to be like that? Astarion has been fighting the odds against his vampiric nature for the last twenty years. Why can’t his daughter?

But Astarion is afraid they will never learn the answer to either of their questions. Alethaine opens her mouth and makes a deep breath as if suffocating. Something doesn’t allow her to breathe and she makes hissing sounds. Her little eyes are watery - by this time she can only cry.

So can her parents.

“I wouldn’t want to, I think,” Tiriel says. “If she is dhampir it means she is alone. Even if other spawns have children too, what is the chance she will ever meet them?”

Astarion kisses Tiriel’s cheek. if Alethaine dies, they bury her and leave. Daggerlake is a welcoming town but it will be a place of sorrow for them.

Tiriel adjusts herself a bit.

“Fuck” she mutters. Astarion immediately smells the blood. Tiriel’s thumb is bleeding. “A fucking splinter.”

Alethaine cries at the top of her lungs.

Astarion stares at his daughter with shock. She screams with the strength they didn’t know she posseses. It’s desperate. Angry.

Demanding.

This moment she doesn’t sound like a child. She sounds like a little beast.

Before Astarion makes up any coherent thought, Tiriel puts her bleeding thumb to Alethaine’s lips, making the blood pour into her mouth.

“Tiriel, what are you doing?”

Tiriel doesn’t answer. The girl makes sucking movements as her mother squeezes drops of blood from her finger.

And then her dark eyes turn red.

They glow in the half-lit room like two tiny lights.

Tiriel puts her fingers away and Alethaine makes a disgruntled sound. Her elven ears twitch.

The eyes stop glowing so intensely and return to their natural black color.

And then Alethaine laughs.

She is kicking her legs and stretching her arms to her parents.

The girl is happy. Happy like a well-fed vampire.

“Astarion, look at her gums.”

Two baby fangs. Very small, almost kitten-like.

“It wasn’t a fever,” Astarion mutters. “It was a bloodlust.”

Of course… If she was older she would just try to get blood from somewhere.

But when you are five months old you can’t do a lot of things.

Poor girl, how she suffered those two days.

Is dhampir bloodlust the same as vampiric? Was she feeling her stomach being ripped apart, her throat hurting and bleeding? Maybe it was even worse for her? Maybe her mortal nature was fighting the bloodthirsty monster, causing Alethaine to cry in pain?

Helpless baby alone with her pain and fear while her parents didn't think of the most obvious explanation.

** Astarion sits at the doorstep with a plushie doll in his hands. The toy has white hair and elven ears, and now Astarion is stitching small fangs to its mouth.

The tears prickle his eyes.

He’s condemned his child for a life of hardships. For loneliness, for constant war against herself. If someday Alethaine shows up at his doorstep blaming him for all her tragedies, he will not even try to defend himself.

“No, kitten, I don’t care if you don’t like it! I can’t breastfeed you anymore and I am not giving you any blood! You eat normal food!” He hears Tiriel’s voice from inside the house.

Alethaine isn’t going to comply easily.

Then he hears footsteps from behind.

“What are you doing?” Tiriel asks.

“Adding fangs to her toy.”

Tiriel sits beside him.

“You have mash in your hair.” Astarion notices

“I know. You should see the other girl. How do you feel about giving her a bath?”

“I don't think you should ask. It’s my child. It seems like… even more mine now.”

“Hey, don't be upset. We knew it was possible.”

“I just… Her eyes, Tiriel, you saw them.They were like theirs… My siblings…Cazador… the same fucking glowing eyes as if she was a vampire, too!”

“It’s because of blood. She doesn’t have to drink it, she can eat normal food.”

“We should have found the cure before making a child.”

“But we didn’t find any.”

Tiriel takes a wet piece of rag and wipes her hair. “Astarion, I am going to talk to you seriously and, please, pay attention to every word I say.”

“I am all pointy ears, my love.”

“I was beaten and humiliated daily for who I was. My family didn't even give me a name because they despised me. But when I met elves for the first time they called me “garbage” - Biir. Half-something, half a person. Half elves aren't uncommon. There are surprisingly many in big cities. But I’ve been taught to despise my body, to hate my ears, to be embarrassed of my own existence. And our daughter is a dhampir. And I am sure there aren’t many like her. This world will have a thousand opportunities to shove her differences up to her nose. This world will teach Alethaine to hate herself. I can guarantee you she will try to pull her fangs out or maybe will ask someone to knock them out. She will cover herself not to let people see how pale she truly is. And we must not be a part of her problems.”

“Tiriel, I would never - “

“She is a girl, Astarion. Her image of herself will be formed mostly by you, not by me. The way you will perceive her will be the way she will see herself. And if she sees resentment, if she senses your sorrows that she isn’t a normal child, she will start hating herself. She will feel it. And it will stay with her till her long days are over.”

“Tiriel, what exactly in my behavior tells you that I am going to mistreat her? She is my child! She is…”

“I didn’t mean to ignore the fact she is a dhampir. You must cherish her differences. We must love her for being a dhampir. We must form this idea that it’s good she is a dhampir.”

Astarion chuckles. To be honest, he has never accepted his vampirism. It happened against his will and he would give anything to get rid of it. It is a curse. And now… his daughter is cursed as well.

“Astarion, this is important. Even the tiniest things will affect her. And we will have to deal with the consequences.”

The girl cries for her parents, and Tiriel, planting a kiss on Astarion’s forehead, returns inside.

Several hours later, when a washed and clean-clothed Alethaine is happily lying on her parents' bed and trying to make some coherent movements, Astarion finally finds enough moral strength to accept the reality.

He takes his daughter in his arms and walks up to the ceiling. The girl laughs and tries to bite him.

"Aren't you the cutest dhampir in Faerûn?" he mutters. "I can't wait to teach you how to use those fangs in battle. You will be deadly, my princess! But don't bite your mother, that's my prerogative."

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96

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sarawritestories · 19 days

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Unwavering Presence Chapter 14 (Part 1)

Cassian X Archeron Sister (Reader)

1000 Follower Celebration Post

Summary: Cassian opens up to Y/N about his mother, Y/N giving him a second chance. When the duo returned to Velaris a confrontation ensues that leads to flashbacks to the Spring.

Content Warning: mentions of death, conversations alluding to SA, Oral Sex, M receiving, Mor not keeping her hands to herself on more than one occasion.

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken longer than anticipated. I had to split this chapter into two parts strictly because it was getting extremely long! I hope you enjoy this part. Part 2 will be up quickly!

Word Count: 5.2K

Chapter 13 1000 Celebration Masterlist UP Masterlist

Reader POV

I opened and closed my mouth as Cassian knelt beside me leaning in and pressing his large hand to the Portrait. “Your mother?”

Cassian nodded, “We never knew where the Illyrian’s who killed her buried her…If they buried her. When I expressed to Az and Rhys that I wanted to build a home here, a place I could go to clear my head, I told them I wanted a place for her. So, she could be with me.”

A gust of wind whipped my skin raw causing a shiver to run down my spine, Cassian instinctively wrapped his wing around me to block the cold. “Why bring me here?”

Cassian’s gaze met mine, his hazel eyes full of guilt. “You know why.” I look down focusing on my hands. He gripped my chin and forced me to meet his eyes, glistening in the moonlight. “Princess, I have tried giving you all the gifts that money can buy. I have tried writing you a letter. Nothing seemed to get your attention.” I went to speak but he interrupted me, “I realized why. You’re scared. You trusted me with some of your deepest fears and I took advantage of that. I brought you here as my last attempt. If want to walk away after tonight. I won’t bother you anymore. But I figured there is one last gift I can give you.”

My heartbeat skyrocketed, “What’s that?”

Cassian grabbed my hand and pressed it to his chest where I could feel his heartbeat. “My heart, Princess. Let me be open with you. Let me give you mine, the way you gave me yours.”

Silence fell between us as snow began to trickle down, I kept opening and closing my mouth unsure what to say. I looked back at the image of his mother. “Tell me about her, Cass.”

“She was my favorite person in the whole world.” Cassian began and I inched closer to him, I told myself it was to use his body heat. I was a fucking liar. Cassian curled his wing tightly around me, “She taught me how to braid hair as I told you before. She was kind, she always put others before herself. All the village kids loved to be around her, she would make sure everyone was fed and had enough to drink. Everyone loved her.” His hazel eyes met mine, “You remind me of her.”

I blushed and looked back at the portrait and instinctively my hand reached out to his as he sniffled. He laced his hand through mine, cool bite of the leather around his hand biting into my skin. “So where was your father?” You looked back to the Illyrian, his smile not reaching his eyes.

“I don’t know. He abandoned my mom when she was pregnant with me.” I squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture, “I have no idea who he is. At this point I have no interest in knowing. Any male who leaves a pregnant female alone, is not worth knowing.” We were silent for a moment, “I’m proud of where I come from. I’m proud of my heritage as an Illyrian. What I’m not proud of though is our ancient traditions. My mother had a bastard born child. The Illyrians are traditional and believe a woman should have a child within marriage.” I could feel the pit in my stomach growing, “She always wanted what was best and protected me. So, she made me flee. Where I had to fend for myself. Find my own shelter, my own food. Until one winter evening, Rhysand found me. The bastard made me come home with him, and his mom insisted I eat and get some rest. We have been together ever since.”

“What happened, to your mother? I know you said she died but…” I whispered; Cassian’s face morphed into sadness as he swiped the tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Princess. I like that you display your emotions so openly.” He places his hand down from my face. “After the blood rite, I returned to my old village. She was nowhere to be seen. I searched for her in every place I could think of. I knew in my heart, she was dead.” Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he didn’t go to swipe them, “I wished I would have been able to tell her I loved her. I wish I could have told her so many things, Sweetheart.” He released my hand and placed his palms over her eyes, “I just wanted her to be proud of me.”

Not being able to contain myself I turned to face him fully and straddled his lap, gripping his wrist I pulled his hands away from his face. His eyes met mine I pressed my forehead to his, “Cassian, your mother would be so proud of you.”

The general shook my hands off and gripped my waist, “Not this past week and a half she wouldn’t. He closed his, “Baby, I’m-“

I cupped his face and pressed his lips to mine. He whimpered as he kissed me back, pulling me closer to him. We broke away and he swiped a strand of hair from my face, “I forgive you.”

“Really?” He whispered.

I cupped his face and he leaned into my touch, “We have a lot to discuss. Cassian, I don’t want to be hurt again.”

“I will make this up to you for as long as I live.”

“This was a good start.” Cassian began stroking my back. “You did give me the best gift tonight.”

“What’s that?”

I pressed my hand on his chest. “Your heart.”

“My heart has been yours to take.” He buries his face in my neck and inhaling deeply. We stayed like that for a few moments, the cold not bothering us as we simply hold each other. He lifted his head, gripped the back of his neck, “Listen to me, you are amazing, beautiful, and strong. I have never once thought of you as weak. I am so sorry for what I said. But you must know, you’re it for me. I want no one else, so I’m keeping you, so long as you’ll let me.”

I smiled, “Does this mean I get to keep you too?”

“You never lost me, Sweetheart.” He brushes his nose over mine, I do have a confession.” My face must have looked panicked because he laughed. “It’s nothing bad, I swear. When Mor had brought Feyre back from the Spring Court, I told you I was heading to Windhaven for a week. I didn’t go to Windhaven. I came here.”

I tilted my head, “Why lie about that? Seems a bit…”

“Ridiculous?” I nodded, “I didn’t want you to know that I was coming here to tell my mother about you. How I met this amazing human woman, who was kind and gentle, yet not afraid to put even a High Lord in his place. How she walks in a room and my day instantly improves. She smiles and it feels like my heart is going to combust.” I wasn’t sure I was breathing anymore. “I just wanted to share that with her.”

A shiver trails down my spine and adjusting his grip under my thighs he hoists us up as he stands holding me as though I weigh nothing, “Come on I still have one more surprise for you.” He walked us toward the cabin, and I peeked over his shoulder looking back at the memorial. A butterfly in a climate too cold landed on the frame of the portrait. Before I could acknowledge the little creature, Cassian opened the door and set me down.

I turned and I pressed my hand to my chest, the dining and living room were right where you entered the cabin, the kitchen to the right. Everything was bright and warm, though the dining room table with wildflowers and candles at the center and two plates with silverware. One plate I assumed was mine had a leather-bound journal. “Cassian, I have so many journals.”

“That one isn’t empty though.” I furrowed my brow and looked at him. “Go read it, I’ll grab our dinner.”

“Who did all the set up?”

“Azriel, he left right before we arrived.” I walked over to where the journal was and sat down as Cassian took both of our plates to fill. I opened the journal and found the book complete full. Flipping to the first page my breath hitched.

My Dear Princess,

Nothing pained me more than sitting in this chair unable to move and watch you walk away. Knowing that my anger was the thing that caused it. To see the tears in your eyes and to know that I was the one that put the sadness in your eyes has sat with me for hours now. So, I went into the village and bought this journal. I figured writing to you is the next best thing I have right now. Since I know, you won’t talk to me for a while. Gods you’ve only been gone an hour and I miss you so much.

I flip through the pages; some are fresh letters pages long. “Cassian.”

“Three days left with my thoughts. I figured I would share them all with you.” Tears welled up in my eyes. As Cassian set the plate down the aromas of potatoes and seared meat caused my stomach to rumble. “Hey, look at me.” I met his warm hazel eyes as his callous fingers kissed the nape of my neck. “I never want you to feel the way you did with Nesta, or Xavier. I want to be better. Because you deserve better.” He tapped the journal, “Read these, whenever you need a reminder, that you’re worthy of the affection you receive, or that you need to take care of yourself, or we happen to be apart, and I can’t be there to comfort you when you need it. I am no poet or author, but with you I have always been good at sharing my feelings, you made it easier to open up. This is my last gift for you…tonight that is.”

I leapt out of my chair and into his arms, “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I’m glad the universe led me to you, Cassie.”

His hand cradled the back of my head, as he kissed the top of it. “So am I.” He held me tightly before pushing me away, “Shall we eat?”

I nodded and both of us sat down and began to eat, we spent all evening talking about what we had been up to since I left. His hand had a permanent spot on my thigh, he would gently rub his thumb along my thigh, and I would smile. Once dinner was done, I offered to do the dishes of which he politely told me no. Then brought out a slice of my favorite cake for us to share. When it was done I yawned.

“Want to go to bed? I had the guest bedroom prepped for you.” I blinked at him.

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to assume we were sharing a bed tonight. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My mind went to Xavier and how if he were in this position, I would have had no choice of where I slept. I shivered, “Cassian, I want to stay with you tonight. Just sleeping.”

Cassian nodded. “Just sleeping.” He led me to his master room which was quite large and handed me a shirt to change into. “We’ll go back home in the morning.”

I yawned once more, “Okay.” I looked around, “Bathroom?”

He pointed to the door next to the one we entered. I smiled, reached up and kissed his cheek and headed to the other room to change. When I emerged, I pressed my back to the wall. Cassian’s shirt was off tattoos on full display. I bit my lip as I watched his muscles flex underneath the moonlight. I would have asked Feyre to paint this and call it, the General getting ready for bed. “Princess are you ok-ohh” Cassian stumbled as he turned and faced me, “Gods you’re beautiful.” My heart fluttered as his eyes raked down my body and my bare legs. One thing I knew was his eyes met mine once more.

I needed him.

Be Brave, Archeron.

I sunk to my knees. The general’s chest stopped moving, “Princess, what are you doing?” His voice was low and husky.

I began to crawl toward him, “I missed you, General.” He swallowed, the lump in his throat bobbed. I stopped when I reached his feet. My hand sliding up his thick muscular thighs. “I want to make you feel good.” I placed kisses along his pants his thighs twitch under my touch and when I reached the center of his thighs. His erection was pressing against his pants, and I licked over his clothed cock maintaining eye contact as his hand slides through my hair as he moaned.

“Princess, we don’t have to,” his eyes held seriousness, and something warmed my heart at his words.

“Cassian, I want to. Now take off your pants.”

The Illyrian didn’t argue as he pulled down his pants. I gripped his thighs as his cock springing free. He looked down at me as his pupils consumed the hazel in his eyes, barely visible. Sticking my tongue out I swiped up his shaft. “Fuck,” He groaned leaning his head back.

I paused my mind looming back to the conversation that we had regarding safe words, “We won’t need it…I don’t think, but Ruby. He met my gaze once more, “My safe word is Ruby.”

Cassian bent down kissing me, “Use it, everything stops immediately. If you can’t use that pretty little mouth of yours.” He kissed my lips, once more. “One tap on my thigh tells me your getting close to your limit.” Another kiss, “Two taps and we’re done. Okay and I need you to be honest, Sweetheart. You need to tell me.”

“I promise,” I whispered and crashed his lips to mine.

He pulled away. “Good,” He was about to say something but that fell away as I closed my mouth at his tip, taking his length slowly. He moaned as he lightly tugged on my hair, “You really are trouble. We said just sleeping.”

I hummed in approval, taking him deeper my nails digging into his thighs as I flicked my eyes up to him. Pulling away to the tip I swiped my tongue over his slit. “Princess.” His nickname on his tongue caused my toes to curl.

Putting him out of his misery I began bobbing my head, his hand guiding me. He sunk deeper into my throat. “Sweetheart. I’m not going to last very long.” I picked up my paced, “Will you touch yourself for me, sweet girl.” I instinctively slid my hand down and massaged my clit, moaning as against him.

Cassian began thrusting, his pace sporadic and the sensation began to feel too much as I slipped my fingers into my folds. I tapped his thigh once. He slowed his pace slightly, “You, okay? Tap once if you are.”

I tapped him once. “Good Girl,” the praise shot straight to my core. He groaned, his grip on my hair tightened. “Fuck.”

I moaned continuously as I chased my own high when Cassian held my head in place as he found his release, “That’s it baby take it all.” His cum shot to the back of my throat and I drank it, greedily. “Now, come for me, Princess.” Sliding out of my mouth a trail of spit connecting my mouth to his cock, as my stomach tightened close to an orgasm, “You look so pretty, touching yourself, Cassian moved behind me and pulled my hand away. I whined as he huskily said, “Allow me.” And his mouth was on my clit and his fingers sliding into my core.

“Cassian,” I moaned out as his fingers began to curl hitting that sweet spot, making stars appear in my vision. Cassian’s tongue was relentless on my swollen bud, but it was only when he pulled away to lightly blow on the sensitive bundle of nerves that I came all over his fingers.

The general kept moving his fingers helping me ride out my orgasm. He slowly withdrew his fingers, and I felt empty. Cassian walked over to wipe his hand on his old shirt. He walked to the bathroom while I stood. When he walked back out there was a rag in his hand pants back over his hips, “Get on the bed for me will you?” I did , and Cassian gently moved my thigh.

“Cassian, I can’t take any more.” I whimpered and met his eyes. His hazel hue irises held pain in them.

“Princess, I’m cleaning you up, I’m not...” He couldn’t find the words. He sighed. “I would never force you to give more than what you are willing to offer. I just want to take care of you make you feel clean before I hold your gorgeous body to mine tonight.”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “Fuck.” I covered my face, “No one has ever done that before.”

Cassian rubbed my exposed thigh soothingly, “Get used to it, Sweetheart. Me taking care of you after is a non-negotiable for me.” calloused fingers pull my hands from my face, so I must look in his gorgeous face, “Never expect to be treated any less than the princess you are.” He wiped the tears from my face. “Especially when you’re in my care.”

“Cass-“

“Shhh, sweet girl. I have you.” I nodded as he wipes the warm rag through my center cleaning me as tears silently fell from my face. Once Cassian was done, he tossed the rag, “Scoot.” He smiled as I moved to the opposite side of the bed. The general slid into the bed, and his arm snaked around my waist pulling me close. He pressed his forehead to mine and his thumb swiped against my hip bone. “Tell me what’s on your mind.” He whispered.

My eyes fluttered closed, “I missed being in your arms.” I yawned once more, “You make me feel safe.”

“I’m not letting you go anytime soon.” Cassian whispered, exhaustion coating his own voice.

“Please don’t.” And in a matter of moments sleep overpowered me.

We walked into the town home together, hands clasped, smiles bright, the next evening and reached the dining room where the atmosphere shifted to something dark. “What’s going on?” Cassian queried.

No one answered his question. Looking over to Azriel his shadows were almost completely hidden his posture straight, Mor taking a sip of her wine next to him, her finger grazing his arm in languid strokes. Her hand slowly moving his hand around the nape of his neck twirling with his curls. Cassian led me to the two empty seats across from the blonde and the spymaster. Azriel’s face looked pain as Rhys spoke. “Glad to see you two made up.”

Cassian said something that I drowned out my gaze focusing on the two fae in front of me. I recognized the look on his face. It’s one that I had expressed too many times myself. Her touch was unwanted, unwelcome. I took a steadying breath trying to keep the rage I felt from spilling over. Azriel was kind and gentle and had always been kind. He won’t tell her to get off for those exact reasons. Memories washed over me at the sight of Mor, touching him.

I wished he would stop touching me. Xavier’s hand gripped my thigh, hiking my skirt. My orders were simple, sit and look pretty. What made that challenging is Xavier trying to expose me to everyone in Graysen’s armies as he did so. His mouth connected to my neck, and I closed my eyes and started to count. Something I had grown accustomed to when he would put me on display this way. Counting the seconds for his hands that were once loving, now grown cruel were off my body.

Voices bring me back to the present and my eyes locked with Azriel. Pain is there and Its as though I can see him counting himself until she got his hands off him. I took another breath.

Be Brave, Archeron. He needs you.

“Mind taking your hand off the Shadow Singer, Mor.” I quipped, and everyone froze the conversation long forgotten.

Mor quirked a brow, “Excuse me?”

“He’s uncomfortable with you touching him. Fix it.” I said with no room for argument in my tone.

“Or what?” Mor sneered gripping Azriel’s neck tighter. His face grimaced at her touch.

I grabbed the knife, grasping it by the tip I tossed it without thinking twice, the blade slicing her skin causing her to move her arm, just before it found purchase against the wall behind her. “Or next time I won’t miss. Read the room when someone is fucking uncomfortable with your hands on them. Azriel does not belong to you.” I snarled baring my teeth.

Mor rose to her feet, “Rhysand, Am I needed for you debriefing the love birds?”

“Go.” Rhysand said his voice even, but his eyes were distant as if he too was having haunting memories of a time when his body was not his to control. His eyes met mine, “We’ll talk about that stunt later.”

A cheshire grin appeared on my face, “Happily.” I looked at Azriel who was watching me in stunned silence. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.” I said maintaining eye contact with Az.

His shadows swarmed over him covering his face. I understood their need to protect their master and looked back at Rhys. Not ignoring the bump to my knee from Cassian as he kept his leg touching mine, a silent reminder here was there. “We go to the Hewn City in a week’s time.”

“Shit,” Cassian muttered.

I looked to my general and back at Rhysand, “What’s the Hewn City?”

Amren, who had been abnormally quiet this whole time, spoke, “A vile city where the Night Court Underbelly resides. Also lovingly referred to as Mor’s home.”

Rhys snorted at that sentiment, “Her father had thought He would be next in line. He was sorely disappointed to find out that wasn’t the case.”

“Why do we have to go there?” I asked.

Rhys looked at Cassian. “To get the Veritas Orb.”

Cassian groaned, “Shit. So, the meeting didn’t go well.”

As Rhys and Cassian started a discussion, I finally took a look at my sister. “Fey?” Her eyes met mine, her hues of blue swirled with emotion. “What happened?”

“We ran into Lucien on our way home.” I stilled. “He wanted me to come hom- to the Spring Court.” Her face paled and I gripped her hand. “Rhysand intervened at some point, but it caused me to write a letter to Tamlin.”

“Oh?”

Feyre smiled, “I told him I was never coming back and sent that over this morning.”

I smiled and squeezed her hand, “I’m proud of you.”

Feyre smiled, “Me too. Lucien was relieved to hear you were alive though. I never told you this when I got here. He was crushed when he learned about what happened. Light came back into his eyes when he found out that wasn’t the case.”

My smile faltered slightly. “I’m sure.”

Sitting in front of the fireplace on the chill spring evening I watched the wood kindle the fire, the wood popping every so often.

“You are a hard person to find.” My head snapped to the doorway to find Lucien leaning against the door frame. He was in a white tunic and tight hunting pants. He had pulled his hair up into a Bun to keep out of his face. The firelight danced across his dark tan skin but highlighted the scar over his left eye.

“Did it ever occur to you that I didn’t want to be found?” I glanced back at the fire. His boots clicked against the tile indicating he was coming toward me. He opted to take the seat next to me leaning to the cart and pouring himself a glass of amber liquid. I glanced over to him to see him pouring a second one and holding it out for me. “You have been noticeably absent too.” I whispered taking the glass.

“I’m sorry, Sunshine.” Lucien pressed his lips in a tight line. “I have been busy.”

“Well aware.” I murmured while sipping my drink. Lucien and I were not fast friends by any means. The nickname he called me once grated on my nerves, which was his reason for doing it. Though as Tamlin and Feyre’s relationship grew into something more, our rivalry suddenly ceased, and a friendship bloomed in its place.

Our favorite pass time being making fun at Tamlin’s horrible attempts at courting Feyre. The four of us walking through the warm spring sun, the flowers in full bloom Lucien’s arms looped in mine as we watched on as Tamlin stumbled over talking with Feyre. Lucien in turn would dramatically reenact, making me burst into laughter causing the High Lord and my sister to turn and glare. We hadn’t been able to walk together on the grounds since our return from Under the Mountain. Lucien particularly made himself scarce around Ianthe and I longed for him to take me to avoid her insufferable presence.

Lucien’s voice was quiet as he spoke once more. “Tamlin told me, I couldn’t take you. I wanted to.”

“Lucien, you don’t have to explain.” I let the burn of the alcohol coat my throat. We sat for a moment; the sound of the fire whirring was the only sound in the sitting room. “I noticed.” I could feel Lucien’s attention toward me, but I continued to look at the fire. “The way you tense when she walks into a room,” He stilled knowing who I talked about without ever having to use her name. “If you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Lucien clipped finishing his drink and pouring himself another.

“Well, if you just want to sit and brood about it…we can do that together too.” I sighed downing the rest of my drink. “Survivors have to stick together, right?” I looked at the red-haired male.

Lucien slowly met my stare, his russet eyes filled with sorrow. “Sunshine...”

Then the words began to pour out of my mouth before I could stop them. “His name was Xavier…”

“He is the only good thing in the Spring Court.” I said straightening back in my chair.

“Barely, he never stands up to Tamlin.” Feyre murmured.

“Feyre, you don’t understand,” I countered picking at my food, Cassian pressing his leg deeper to mine. Reassurance.

“Understand what?”

I glanced back at her, “How hard it is to regain your voice, when someone has stolen it from you.”

Feyre’s throat bobbed, “You managed.”

I placed my fork on the table and stood from my seat, ignoring the two pairs of Hazel eyes and one violet set, staring at me with concern. “Did I?” I walked away.

Walking toward my room, a delicate hand gripped my arm and slammed me into the wall. Nails dug into my cheeks squishing them tightly together. I blinked and brown eyes and silky blonde hair came into my vision. “I’m going to make this clear.” Mor’s voice was cold and distant as I gripped her wrist trying to pull her off me. “I’m not fond of being made a fool” I tried to move she pressed her body against mine to keep me in place. Her eyes raked my face, and she tucked a loose stand of hair behind my ear. “I mean it would be a shame if something happened to poor sweet Feyre, as a result of your reckless actions.” I sobbed, clawing at her wrist and Mor cooed, “Oh, not so tough now are you. You’re such a fragile little thing.” She leaned in her sweet perfume filling my nostrils, “If I wanted to, I could-

“What’s going on here?” Amren’s voice rang through the hall causing Mor to freeze. “I would suggest letting her go, girl. Before her general finds you.” Amren crossed her arms causing her silver shirt that matched her eyes to rise to reveal a small band of skin. “Now, Morrigan. I don’t enjoy repeating myself.” Her voice was lethal, at this moment, I understood why she was Rhys’ second in command.

Mor released my face, not before she broke skin in some places. Glaring at me, “Stay in line, Human. You’re a lot more fragile than the rest of us.”

“That’s Enough, Mor.” My chest tightened to the sound of Cassian’s voice. Mor immediately took two steps back. “You need to go to the Hewn City. Rhys’ orders.” Cassian came into view, his wings tucked in tight, his siphons ablaze.

“Rhys can give them to me himself.” Mor pouted crossing her arms like a child.

Amren rolled her silver swirled eyes, “Go to the Hewn City. Maybe going to spend some time with your father will do you good.” Mor’s straightened but not before shooting me one more glare. She left not before bumping into Cassian’s shoulder.

Amren’s silver eyes gleamed at me, assessing, a smirk on her red painted lips “You are a fierce one, girl. You are not afraid to put someone in their place and you’re quickly becoming my favorite human I have come in contact with.” Her face fell slightly, “But tread carefully with Mor. She is not an enemy you wish to have; you’ll learn why when you meet who sired her.” She nodded her head toward me a silent goodbye and left Cassian and I alone in the hallway.

Cassian was on me the instant the short female made it down the stairs. He assessed my face for injuries, and his nostrils flared at the scratch on my face, “Stop.” I whispered.

His response came quickly. “No.”

“Cassian, I’m-“

“Don’t you dare say your fine when you’re trembling like a leaf.” I looked down to see my hands violently shaking. His hands covered mine to his steady fingers forcing mine to still. “I’m right here, Princess.” He whispered.

“She threatened to hurt Feyre because of me.” I met his hazel eyes.

His expression darkened, “We should tell Rhys.”

I shook my head, “Can we wait? Maybe this was a one-time thing.”

Cassian sighed kissing both of my knuckles wrapped in his warm grasp. “I don’t like it. If it happens again, we tell Rhys. Got it?”

I nodded my head and Cassian released my hands to carry me in his arms. “Come on. We’re going to bed.” I leaned my head against his shoulder and allowed him to carry me to his room. The scent of Leather and Sandalwood comforting me, so my eyes drooped closed. Cassian murmuring something I couldn’t decipher as I fell asleep.

To Be Continued...

Story Tags: @hellodarling1357 @hnyclover @waytoomanyteenagefeels @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @esposadomd @sleepylunarwolf @stressed-reader @kylaisra @marvelouslovely-barnes @magicstrengthandcourage @spideytingley @awkardnerd @donttellthecats @tastydewdrops @vermillionwinter @asweetblueberry2 @bunnyredgirl @homeslices @azriels-mate2 @oksloan3 @wallacewillow0773638 @fandom-crashlanding @writingstreetspirit @hannzoaks @minnieloo @tuggboatfishin @judig92 @atrxidxs @dustyinkpages @secretlyhers @mxblobby @blogforficslol @historygeekqueen @turtleshavesoulmates @scooobies @anuttellaa @earth-to-lottie @slytherintaco @fxckmiup @tinystarfishgalaxy @cheesebookgirl @oucereeng @st0rmyt @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @misslunatic1655 @azrielsmate3 @nebarious @tele86 @chelsiemp @fightmedraco @fullmoon-94 @thehighlordishere @jenniferpendragon @ray4hotchner @phoenix666stuff @misskennygirl @whitewolfsbitch @highladyivy @tenaciousperfectionunknown @packsvlog @heyyhelloohii @parabatai-winchester @julesofvolterra @lilah-asteria @lyanna133 @mp-littlebit @nickishadow139 @milswrites @eve175 @blackgirlmagicforever

#cassian x reader #acotar fanfiction #cassian acotar #acotar #cassian x you #cassian imagine #cassian fanfic #archeron sister #feyre archeron #rhysand acotar #azriel acotar #cassian smut

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ashyllum · 1 month

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𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐤𝐚𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 (#𝟏)

(Gn! Reader)

Aventurine | Jing Yuan and Blade | Dan Feng | Veritas Ratio | Boothill

CW: bullying duh, mild(?) exhibitionism, a bit of a power play, reader is sort of a wimp, tiny dub-con, high school au

Aventurine was one of the cool boys in school, rich, popular, and damn attractive, but one of the sweeter one at that or that's what you thought, as your and his mom introduced you two, as new neighbors. You, one of the poor kids, the one labeled as a charity case.

God, the way he glared at you, like he wanted to kill you was enough to send you into a panic attack, as you immediately excused yourself. The next time you went out of your house, he cornered you, dragging you in on the building's rooftop, pinning you against the railings, half your back hanging in the air, threatening to cut your tongue off if you dared utter a word to this to anyone in school.

Since that day, your high school has been a living hell, as he made his goal to instill fear in you, after all he can't have you, spilling his secret out, the illusion of his power ruining.

You weren't dumb, it was all too obvious to see his mightier-than-thou persona, was a facade to fit in. Yet, you being the little wimp you are, you put up with his bullying, it only started as few teases, and remarks, which you didn't mind much.

After all, you were used to such treatment by his friends already but, this was also a surprise for them too, since you were the first one the Aventurine ever picked on.

All was just fine, till he started invading your safe space, your home after school, because, luck could never be on your side, as your mothers became besties, bonding over being single parents bonding of two teenagers. So you sat every weekend during dinner, in front of Aventurine, as he put on his good-boy act, and you had to witness, your damn mother coddling your bully, all too oblivious.

Holy mother Gaiathra, how tempted you were to tell your mom about all the bullying, but seeing how much she enjoyed the company of her new friend new friend, your bully's mom, you decided to suck it up, for the sake of her happiness.

But soon his actions started getting more and more invasive, as he started shoving you around the hallways, forcing you to sit beside him during lectures, throwing paper balls at you when you refused, and so on. But none compare to the times when he forced you to not attend your classes, dragging you to a random hide outs, making you sit beside him, as he hung out with his friends, bunking classes, as they sat somewhere playing poker or other stupid games.

And don't you dare utter a word when he's playing, 'cause then the hand that's been resting on your shoulder this whole time, will find it's way under your shirt, pinching your cute little nipples?

The first time this happened, was the first time you physically tried to fight back, only to get laughed at by his friend, as they coaxed you into accepting it, after all, it's Aventurine, everyone's dream boy, giving a loser like you his attention, 'you better learn to appreciate it'.

So you did, you learned to just stay there and take it, as his punishment soon turned into a normal occurrence, sometimes making you sit on his lap, as he played, absentmindedly playing with your chest, as you squealed and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, trying to save face, which surprisingly none of his friends found odd, sometimes the one closest to him taking the lead and making you join their little hangout, cause they "like seeing Aventurine happy".

And the worst of it all were, your friends, who teased and shipped you together. How sweet of them to ship you with your damn bully, who invades your personal space, and makes you feel so gushy-mushy inside.

This isn't a romance novel after all!

No, no he's not getting softer to you, giving you random trinkets, like some cute stationary or a toy he won in the arcade. And your heartbeat definitely didn't start rising up whenever you were sitting beside him in class, as he laid a hand on your thigh, before dozing to sleep.

You're just - just going crazy! That's it, crazy enough to let (help) him sneak into your room at night and let him hold you as you both drift to sleep, as he apologized for being mean to you, his hand under your shirt, your arm around his waist, only to wake up alone the next day.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing! When you let him in through because you saw him, crying, and drunk, on the same rooftop, he once threatened to throw you off.

But, you couldn't help it, Aventurine, no Kakavasha, as he made you call him, was just a lonely boy, who wanted fame and power, amongst others, just a boy insecure of not having the same status as his peers, and your heart softens at the fact, after all, you too were once insecure as a child, well not as crazy as Aventurine, going as far as using a different, fancier name in school, or doing reckless stuff to fit in, but everyone has their own story to tell, right?

Perhaps, you could be his friend, he's sweet enough when not in front of others and maybe you are fine with his little groping, right? His friends do call you his lucky charm. Just friends, sure.

Just two friends who sneak in kisses between classes in private, just two friends who found each other under each other sheets in the dead of night, just two friends who hung out randomly in cute little places like cafes, or arcades, but only the ones far away from school, as he still gave you the same treatment in school.

All until one usual day in the hallway, as you were busy stuffing your lockers, and one of his 'friends', a rando, who sometimes joins in, who you didn't know much about, except the fact that he's loaded decided you were the perfect punching bag, to release his anger on.

He pushed you against a wall, his fist up, as you cowered, trying to cover your face, but the punch never came, only a tiny cracking noise, and gasps from the students around you.

Slowly, you removed your arms that were blocking your vision, only to see the boy lying on the ground nose bloodied, and Aventurine glaring at him.

Before you could even say anything Aventurine grabbed your arms and dragged you into an empty classroom, pulling you in a big hug, apologizing profusely.

Thud* Thud* Thud*

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, as you nuzzled in his embrace.

"This would never happen again, I make sure of it," he promised, looking into your eyes with genuine care and sorrow. The same boy who was so desperate for others' approval, just broke someone's nose in front of so many people, to save a pathetic loser like you.

Your brain freezed at the thought, you didn't even think what you were doing and immediately got on your tip toes, grabbed his collar and smashed your lips together, you saw his eyes widen for a second, and then his gaze softened, as he grabbed your waist pulling you in, and closed his eyes.

After few seconds you both pulled away, and your eyes meet again, except both of your visions were blurry, due to the tears flooding in.

Maybe, you didn't want to be friends anymore, but you didn't get much chance to ponder on it, as in only few for the whole school now, you were already labeled his, something he took pride in (you too).

So as the night fell, you two found him in your bed again, nuzzling into you in his sleep, except this time you woke up next to his pretty face and got peppered with kisses first thing in the morning.

(After that you both got teased a lot by your mothers)

imma post some yan! Aven soon, this was too sweet for me, but i can't see this boy being too mean, unlike some others (everyone else) on the roster

#honkai star rail #aventurine #honkai star rail x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine x #aventurine x you #bully x reader #bully x victim

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psychedelic-ink · 1 year

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𝑰 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑻𝑶 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑰'𝑴 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫

pairing: tommy miller x fem!reader

genre: smut, soft enemies to lovers, minors dni

word count: 3.4k

summary: when you met him the first time him and his brother was your captor, months later he becomes yours, and quickly after that he become a resident of Jackson. You've already forgiven him for his past, but he's not happy with how eager you are to excuse what he's done.

warnings: tommy having a hero complex, tommy lashing out, piv sex, time skips, oral (giving & receiving)

a/n: the format I've written this in is inspired by @littlemisspascal 's getting lost is being found joel fic, which I highly recommend by the way it was amazing, one of my favorite things ever 💜

The world went to shit, well joke on the world, your life was already shit long before outbreak day.

It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Nothing just seemed to work out for you. But then all hell broke loose and suddenly it felt like you were off the hook, that you could be someone else, someone you always wanted to be. Someone that you knew you were. Before all this, you were just hurt, felt broken, but still smiled and went about your day. You tried to be good. Tried to be nice. For the most part, you like to think that you succeeded.

You became a guide. Somewhat similar to Charon, if you spared yourself the thought but instead of guiding the dead to Hades, you guided the living away from it. Things went smooth for the most part, you helped people where they needed to go, killed infected, shot down those who shot first. It was the oddest type of freedom that you felt.

But life had other plans, and life loved to point its middle finger right into your face.

It’s a dad and his two kids this time, you were helping them get to the nearest QZ. You cut the fence, helped them through, you knew hunters were lurking nearby, people who survived on killing and stealing—vultures.

You feel a tight grip on your neck and you’re being violently pulled back. The kids look back at you with horror lingering in their eyes, the dad eager to pull them away. With a deep breath, you manage to force out a smile.

“Go!” you shout. “You’re almost there!”

And they run, they run as fast as they can.

“Fuck!” you hear one of them say, a deep souther drawl heavy in your ear. “Shit, they got away. They had good weapons on them too.”

“At least we got the one,” the man that holds you answers. “Let’s go back, see what this one has.”

“Let me the fuck go!” you struggle, attempting to elbow him in the stomach. “You fucking assholes. They were fucking kids.”

Finally one comes into view, he’s broad—broad enough to stun you into silence. The fear of death lurks around your heart, sucking you into a black pit of realizing that this might be it. He has a glare that could kill, a hooked nose, and, most importantly, a gun. This man, you notice, this man would kill you in a heartbeat. He gives you one last once-over before tilting his head to the other holding you down.

“Knock her out, Tommy.”

ii.

It’s late. Far too late for anyone to be awake. The embers of the crackling fire had died down, only specks of golden orange shimmering between the ash. You’ve learned the names of your captors; Tommy and Joel. Brothers, you assumed, they didn’t really have to spell it out for it to be obvious.

You’re not sure why you’re still alive. You remember Joel muttering something about using you as bait, or to learn more about the routes that you seemed to know. Tommy had agreed.

In another life, another time, you would’ve deemed the men attractive. Especially Tommy. He had a boyish charm to him, longer hair compared to his brother (those poor dark locks had definitely seen better days), and mussed unkempt facial hair indicating that they’d been at this for a long time. You understand, to a degree, why someone might choose this to survive. Some people just didn’t know what else to do. Some people simply enjoyed it; the power, the freedom, the giddiness of not having a system to say no.

From what you understand, these two just had no idea what else to do. Too far off to reach a QZ, or they simply don’t trust FEDRA, whatever it is they seem to have made a life for themselves neither of them looked happy to be in.

Your eyes fall to where Joel is sleeping, Tommy’s on watch, which makes you somewhat hopeful, you don’t have the strength to piss off Joel—Tommy you can take a chance with, he seemed softer. Softer like a rose, pricking you if you’re too lax and not careful enough.

You’ve been captured before, and due to that, it doesn’t take long for you to free yourself from the hard ropes they tied you in. You hold your breath as you move away from the camp, careful not to step on any branches or rubble. You see Tommy ahead, he’s looking at you, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. You expect him to shoot, to chase after you.

He continues to stare as you disappear into the night.

ii.

You see a lot of dead bodies by the riverbed. Some infected, some not. You think about turning around, walking back to where you came from but before you can make a decision you’re surrounded. Your hands rise instantly, not wanting to cause trouble. Multiple rifles are pointed directly at you, and you notice a cute black dog but you have an inkling you won’t be feeling the same in a couple of minutes.

“I’m not here to cause trouble,” you say, the cold seeping through your jacket. “Just lost. I’m not infected.”

“Naive for you to think we’ll believe you,” one of the horsemen answers. “You mind if we test that out?”

You didn’t mind, but even if you did, you doubt you have any say in the matter. The dog comes forward, ears pressed against his skull, and you instinctively reach out your hand. You can’t really feel the wetness of his nose, but you can imagine it as he presses into your gloved palm. A moment later he starts wagging his tail.

A horse, along with its rider, steps up and everyone looks nervously at the equestrian. You straighten yourself and notice that even the dog pulls away, the energy she has demands respect, and oozes power. You swallow, looking up at her with both amusement and fear.

"You can come with us," she says, and without hesitation, one of the men helps you up onto the horse they're riding. Your hands fumble nervously as you grab onto the horse's shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

You’re not dead yet so you must be doing something right.

iv.

You trudge through the biting snow, your skin prickles with cold and the relentless flakes melt as soon as they touch your skin. You shudder. The cold is almost unbearable, but everyone has to pull their weight, no exceptions. Narrowing your eyes,, you spot a lone figure struggling in the snow. The way he moves is sluggish and ungainly, like a snail inching its way along a path.

With a sharp whistle, you signal to your companions to follow. They circle around the body with hesitation; it’s a man, a man that is somewhat familiar to you. The stranger groans and turns to his back, chest heaving heavily, you notice the tremble of his lips, the redness of his nose. You even notice the build-up of snow in his hair.

You know him. You have no idea how he ended up all the way here, but you know him. Getting off the horse, you shake your head. You don't know him, not really. You only know his name and what he represents.

Ian approaches, his eyes questioning as he asks, "What should we do? Should we leave him?"

“I know him,” you say, a hint of amusement in your voice due to the irony. “Let’s take him in. I’ll talk to Maria.”

His eyes flutter open, a brief expression of confusion appearing on his features. You can’t help but lean over a bit, hands placed on your hips.

“You’re not dead yet. Don’t worry.”

But as soon as the words leave your lips, Tommy loses consciousness.

He’s alone at the bar. He’s always alone.

Initially, Maria was reluctant to let Tommy stay, but for some reason, you vouched for him. You deeply believe that everyone deserves a second chance. A slightly foolish, maybe even childish, thought on your part but you can’t help it. In his eyes you only see parts of a broken man, his belief in the world shattered and gone with the wind.

Tommy struggles with socializing. He says hi and good morning but that’s pretty much all anyone can get out of him. You’re the only one who knows he has a brother, what he’s done. He’s especially annoyed when you’re around, which you think is a little bit unfair but you digress. He does what he’s told and handy with most things—which is lucky for you, you would hear a handful if he couldn’t do anything.

You want to talk to him, you have ever since you first saw him again. Hoping that this time it’ll be different, you sit near him not next to him. There are two empty seats between you two.

“Hi,” you greet him, he doesn’t look at you. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge you at all. “How are you?”

No answer.

“You’re not having any issues right? You know, heating, water pressure, all that jazz.”

You’re not surprised at the least when he gets up and leave, not a word uttered. He pushes past the crowd and disappears through the door, into the cold. Unlike other times, this is the first instance where anger simmers hot in your gut. You’ve been nothing but patient. But not tonight. He’s going to talk to you whether he likes it or not.

With anger in your steps, you storm out. Luckily, he’s not far. You find him staring up at the undecorated Christmas tree. Normally, you would find it a somber sight, but you’re too frustrated to think about how good he looks with snow falling around him.

“Tommy!” you yell out, and he flinches, head snapping to you with wide eyes. “What the hell is your deal?”

“My deal?” he answers, voice eerily smooth and calm. “I should be fuckin’ asking you that.”

You’re standing an inch from him, the cold biting into your skin. “My deal? I’ve been nothing but nice to you. Wouldn’t wanna play that card but may I remind you that you’re fucking alive because of me? You could at least not be an asshole.”

“Sure you wanna go that route sweetheart? Because I could easily say the same thing for you.”

That night—the night that you escaped, so he did see you. All this time you convinced yourself that it was your eyes playing tricks in the dark. You shake your head, wanting to dislodge the moment from your mind.

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” you hiss. “Why are you avoiding me? I just want to talk.”

“Just leave me the fuck alone. You shouldn’t want to talk to me— someone like you… It ain’t normal. I should’ve died that night. I didn’t ask you to fuckin’ save me.”

You’re taken aback by the silent rage but refuse to show him the effect he has. The only indication that his words had any kind of result is when you take a step back, allowing him some semblance of space.

“You’re right, you didn’t,” you say softly, slowly. His gaze bores into you. “But I did. And you’re here. I didn’t save you that night to just make a point of who’s the better person. As you said, you allowed me to go that night—thank you by the way—but what are you going to do, just not talk to me? Ignore me? I don’t think that’s fair for either of us.”

You stand frozen as Tommy takes a step closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"What do you want from me?" he growls, his voice low and threatening.

You try to take a step back but he follows, closing the gap between you. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the frigid air around you. His lips curl into a slight sneer, and you can't help but feel a slight twinge of fear.

"You're always so nice, aren't you?" he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But what do you really want? You want me to be your little pet? Fixing me up like some broken toy. Well, newsflash, sweetheart, I'm not broken. I'm just fine the way I am."

"That’s not—" you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "That wasn’t my intention at all. The world is shit, I just didn’t want to add to it."

Tommy scoffs, his eyes glinting with anger. "But you did by keeping me alive. I did horrible things, things you can’t even imagine. So don't pretend like you understand me, because you don't."

“I know the shit you did Tommy. I was almost one of your victims, remember?”

His eyes drop to the ground, the fire in his eyes finally fading. He takes a quick step back, shoulder slumped, he shakes his head.

“I remember. There ain’t a day I don’t remember the shit I’ve done—we’ve done with my brother.”

Tommy gives you one last look before walking away, “I don’t need your pity.”

Half an hour later, you’re still standing there under the snow, completely alone.

vi.

It’s a dance almost. You find different ways for Tommy to communicate with you. You unlock his anger, his disappointment, his need to be good—the hero, if you will. But to be fair, you can’t take all the credit. It was mostly due to him, you got too close, and he got too frustrated. It was a brief moment of lips touching, then it quickly turned into a desperate ask for submission. You were eager to give, he hated that. Hated that you could when he couldn’t.

You know that there’s a high chance of other things lingering below the surface, things that he probably hadn’t dared to address himself.

In the privacy of your bedroom, you’re on your knees for him. Sucking on the tip of his cock eagerly as he stands upright, his hands are firsts that are stuck to his sides. This isn’t the first time, it isn’t the last. By the way salty precum coats your tongue, you know he’s enjoying himself. He has to be, if he wasn’t this wouldn’t be happening.

You figure that he enjoys fighting against it until he breaks. When he surrenders himself to it, to the pleasure, to the primal need to take, he pins you down and fucks you with everything he has. All his frustration seeps into you, each stroke deeper than the next. You enjoy that he’s rough, you enjoy feeling the lingering sting on your skin long after he leaves.

Looking up, you swallow him further down. He’s not overly thick but long, the dark curls at the base trimmed but still looking untouched. Tommy thrusts forward, the head of his cock brushing the back of your throat. Your nostrils flare as your lungs convulse with the need to cough, he notices but doesn’t pull back. Instead, you feel two hands cradling the back of your neck, pulling you further down his length, making you take him whole.

Your eyes go wide and squeeze shut right after. You feel him throbbing in your throat and you swallow, again and again, which prompts him to drag his cock out slightly only to bury himself back into your throat. Your jaw aches, spit dripping down the corners of your lips as you flatten your tongue over the underside of his cock. A faint growl echoes from the back of his throat, you swallow again, he fucks your mouth as he would your wet cunt. Tears flood your lashline, you can barely breathe. Your throat tightens around him.

“Fuck, don’t close your eyes,” he grunts, the dark curls at the base tickling your nose. “Look at me. Look at me like you always do.”

The Look, is something that you still don’t quite understand. He says it often, telling you to look at him the way that you do, but you emphasize nothing special when you do end up looking at him. It’s just your normal gaze. He only asks for it when he’s inside you.

You slowly open your eyes, your lashes wet and stuck together. His thumb smooths over the patch of skin right under your eye, his chest stutters, muscles growing taut under your gaze.

Ironically, he closes his eyes and lifts his head as if staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t utter another word after that, your lips raw from the way he thrust forward. You feel the twitch of his cock, thick ropes sliding down your throat. You never tire of the taste of him. Not sweet, not bitter. You enjoy the brief moment he forgets where he is, that soft noise escaping his lips, the juvenile way his thighs shake—those are the things that make you ache for the taste of him. You’re an addict.

But so is he.

vii.

Your palms press into the smooth surface of the bar counter. Tommy lurks behind you, cock pressing inside, fingers making dents into your warm skin. It’s late into the night, you’re not sure of the exact time but you know it’s late. His one hand slips between your legs, he feels how wet you are, how needy you get for him. He presses a finger to your clit, the pads of the digits moving in deft circles.

A sharp moan parts your lips, back arching as he pounds into you, the sound of skin against skin loud, yet not enough to pierce the sound of the snowstorm outside. A dose of pleasure buzzes through your veins, electricity crackling across your skin as you feel his length press deep inside. His fingers grasp your throat, pulling you up until his lips tickle your ear. He heaves, his warm breath fanning your skin.

“Tell me I’m a good person,” he chokes out. “Please.”

“You’re good,” you answer slightly out of breath. You touch his neck, the position slightly straining but worth it when he holds you tighter. “Such a good man—and I mean that.”

Your eyes widen with shock when he slides his tongue into your mouth. Tommy doesn’t kiss you often, if at all, but it lights a fire under your stomach. It burns you from the inside out, the smoke of it making your mind spin. Your eyes flutter close and you take a deep breath, he grinds his hips, your insides pulsing around him.

“I don’t care even if you’re lyin’—”

He releases you and you stumble forward, hands finding purchase on the bar counter once more. But you can’t hold your position for long, not with the way he’s hammering into you, reducing you into a babbling mess. Your hands slide, your upper body completely falling over. Tommy doesn’t pause, he doesn’t even slow down. He presses you further into the surface.

“Because I know that you are.”

Tommy suddenly pulls out, a sharp gasp rips from your throat, your cunt clenching around nothing. Before you can protest, however, he turns you over and pushes you. He kneels between your legs, lips finding the tender folds of your pussy.

Your head falls back when he licks into you eagerly, tasting himself and your arousal. His groans vibrate against you, your thighs threaten to close, the meat of them pressing into both sides of his face.

His lips press against your clit, suckling and teasing it in a way that drives you wild. His tongue moves in circles as he pushes two fingers, curling them and applying pressure. Without a second thought, you fingers thread his hair, tugging him closer. Arousal pools between your legs.

Your breathing becomes labored and your body starts to shake. Your eyes roll back as your entire body shakes. Your hips buck against him as he continues to bring you over the edge, your cries of pleasure echoing off the walls of the bar.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you collapse against the bar counter, your body still shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. You can feel your skin tingling, your heart pounding and your head spinning. Tommy stands, a hint of pride lingering in his dark eyes. You continue to breathe and watch as he fists himself, the tip of his cock a shade darker when he comes thick ropes over your stomach. You hiss at the heat, the feeling of having a part of him staining you.

Tommy pulls up his pants, and you notice as you get dressed, he’s avoiding your gaze. You’re too satisfied to care. He licks his lips, which you found was a nervous habit he has and offers you his arm. You hadn’t expected it, but indulge in the gesture by taking it.

“Let’s get out of here before someone sees us.”

#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #hbo the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction

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mikodrawnnarratives · 10 months

Text

Long post!

I have been thinking

a little

not at all little

Actually I've thought a lot about

(more art ltr)

An Idea I've had for a while for a cryptid Y/n au

@naffeclipse

Came up with most of it when I saw some other ideas for cryptid y/n au

INGREDIENTS:

- Little kid

- cryptid that craves warmth (not hearts or organs, just any living being warmth gives energy) (don't know how they'd look)

(why they can't get a pet or smthn idk)

(WAIT)

Cryptid y/n at some point: pspspsps *whistles*

The werewolves: ...

(But fr they'd probably end up killing living beings and humans only so they could get the warmth of the blood. Imagine a cat with catnip and you got cryptid y/n)

when blood cools and dries:

cryptid y/n: :(

DIRECTIONS:

1) Bad meeting

2) Mix (Possession gone wrong)

BOOM

Results: Y/n. Much to their confusion

(old art I made when I first thought of the au)

PREPARATION TIME: ??????

They still have a heartbeat

Somehow

The demonic cryptid with a beating heart. A pretty weak heartbeat but a heartbeat.

And at least partial mind of a human. Their bodies are fused together but mostly look human enough on the outside. But their heart can't keep them going alone, this applies to either party. So they both have to continue cryptid life necessities. Since y/n fused at a young age, their body grew to adapt with the cryptid traits and years after they are stronger and more accustomed to it.

don't question it

Roommates in the same body and become similar to Cryptid Eclipse in terms of how they think and work together. They pretty much become the same person.

I imagine any injury would be very very frightening. I mean the heart's pretty weak from this unnatural fusion so generally they go after anything that can't deal too much damage to them

Many MANY years after becoming cryptid, y/n meets Sun and Moon who offer to help them out. I think they wouldn't suspect them too much since they originally believe they were covered in blood since they were hurt by a cryptid. Moon is more suspicious than Sun tho.

I think it'd be interesting if Sun and moon weren't separate animatronics (yet at least). Y/n grows to trust in them and really does care about them deeply. Especially since they are the best relationship they've had in a while. They aren't warm enough to sustain y/n, but it's closer than any other non living thing has gotten.

Cuddles are vry important here.

Y/n feels safe around them in a way they hadn't in a long time. And Sun and Moon would also care deeply about them just like Cryptid Eclipse and Cryptid hunter y/n. They have plenty of reasons to be concerned over y/n too! Like... why aren't they eating like a human should.

So when someone hurts their sweetie, no matter how scared y/n normally would be, they are def protective over their hunters. Their light. Their warmth.

Lore connection? Idk I came up with the idea b4 series finale and I think an episode prior to it

It'd be interesting if they were a follower of glitchtrap at some point

Most of this idea was baked before some lore clarifications, even then it's only half baked

...

Crossover?

agdxhxgdfdydg for FUNNYS!! (tho only naff can confirm or deny)

I think Hunter y/n, ngl, kinda would want to put Cyptid Y/n under a microscope and study them, and Eclipse is confusion (and bombastic side eye). Actually, both of them are confusion

Cryptid y/n is scared of both. Mostly of Eclipse, even falls over in fear the moment they detect them.

Run Y/n Run! And leave Eclipse VERY CONFUSED!!

Cryptid y/n @ seeing eclipse: WOAH! DAMN. I don't know what the hell you feeding him but he is TOO DAMN BIG

Vanessa: y'know what's worse than a cryptid?

Vanessa *takes away paper*: BOOM.

The whiteboard: "cryptid child"

Glitchtrap: a CHILD

Vanessa: NO

Anyway, just wanted to toss in what I've thought of for cryptid y/n

#my art #art dump #cryptid y/n au #demonic cryptid with a beating heart au #cryptid sightings #cryptid sightings spoilers #kind of #emphasis on 'kind of'#blood #tw blood #cw blood #sun x reader #moon x reader #cryptid hunter!dca #cryptid hunter!moon #cryptid hunter!sun #fanart #long post #MDN art tag

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commanderquinn · 9 months

Text

a list of canon ways in which lillian hart is The Fucking Worst that cora coe deserves financial and emotional compensation for:

-the basis for the big divorce counseling mission is that cora's worried for her mother's safety. that means, before going on a deep cover operation with smugglers known to kill rangers, marines, or anyone else caught trying to interfere with their business, lillian didnt leave her daughter a heads up much less a lead. once the fuck again, this woman decided that her career was more important than her daughter's mental and emotional health. once the fuck again, this woman decided she could just disappear from cora's life and then come back out of the blue without consequence

-when you go to lillian's office to look for her at cora's request, the guy working the desk knows SAM well enough to know his name and give him shit like they've got a personal history, but he??? isnt sure about????? cora's name???? word for word, he looks at her and says "it's cora, right?" you're telling me that this woman doesn't talk about her kid enough for her fellow INVESTIAGATIVE rangers to be sure about her name??? are you SHITTING ME??????? get the fuck out of here. you cant push "ranger family values" and the close ties they have in one breath then claim she likes to keep a professional distance at work in the other. you wanna have the conversation about what fresh hell it is being a working mother in a position of power, lets go, ill have that conversation all day long. but lillian hart is not a fucking example of a working mother and im gonna be pretty fucking insulted for working mothers everywhere if i catch wind of ppl trying to pull that kind of defense card. the woman's an awful parent and should be held the fuck accountable for it. you wanna know how i know????

she doesn't say cora's name enough for the ranger watching the door to be confident in it, but he remembers alllll the stories of the captain her ex is cozying up to. and lillian is the one to confirm during the quest that she has been getting the stories from cora, so there's some clear "oh she already likes the stranger more than me." i know im reading into it because its fiction and none of these people are real, but ive also, y'know been in cora's shoes, so i can tell you from real life experience that shit does exist. idk if that was the writers INTENT, but it sure does a great job at reflecting a very sad reality

-sam points out its dumb that lillian wants to speed the ship, with her daughter on it, directly at the sydicate. idk abt y'all, but my ship was pretty dinky at that point bc i was focused on outposts, and we got ambushed by like 6 ship waves once we landed for that fight. again, i get it. game mechanics get a higher priority than realism. but this whole "we have to finish this because theres a chance you were spotted trying to rescue me" shit is so. nauseating. theres no demand to drop off cora somewhere safe, theres no "lets call in the cavalry." its this fucking egomaniac looking you dead in the eye and being like "i know i just traumatized the shit out of my kid but i need you to drive us into an ambush while she's still on board. hope you're a good shot because sam and i cant kill them ourselves." and so what that we did that????? YOURE TELLING ME IT WAS JUST THOSE SHIPS???? the rest of the organization is just going to LET IT GO???? like no fucking wonder sam sees himself as the better option even through all his fucking doubt. at least he knows when to turn the fuck around because shit is above his paygrade

-she has custody rights. she is a decorated and respected ranger. sam being a smuggler wasnt public knowledge, but point out one person in akila who wouldnt believe her in a heartbeat over it. everyone in town gives him nothing but shit, and they all side with his dad who was definitely no picnic to live with. im guessing big emotional detachment there, lotta interrogation and persecution rather than teaching and understanding. HELL, sam would probably own up to his past if lillian outed him for it, he's that type of idiot. at literally any point she could put in the effort to get legal council involved. if she's SOOOO by the law, whats the hold up there???? i agree the kid shouldnt be on my ship while im in the middle of a space fight. ive talked with sam about it, and im not even the kids parent (as of the personal quest). what the fuck are you doing about it lillian????????? oh thats right. we cant get lillian on the phone. whomp whomp.

-she made cora cry. hyper independent, "big girls dont cry" cora coe. multiple times. worse, she made cora cry because she made cora feel like she wasn't as important as lillian's career. i dont give a fuck what criminals are doing. i do not give a fuck. i give a fuck that that little pixel child got her heart broken and there isnt a dialogue for me to call out her mother for being a huge fucking cunt to her own daughter but theres a thousand and one options for me to tell sam he's parenting wrong. he is, and i have no problem using them when they're appropriate, but where the fuck are they for lillian??? why am i not allowed to tear this woman a new asshole at any point, but there's like 20+ extra dialogue options added to every single npc you have a persuade option with???? todd my head hurts and its your fault

-"im sure sam's told you all about me. go on. ask whatever you want." yet there is no option to ask what the fuck her problem is. so, clearly, i cannot, in fact, ask whatever i want.

-"but the looks i got from my fellow rangers reading alexander dumas... we do strange things for kids." yeah hart??? thats your standard????? THATS your idea of going out of your way for your kid??? literally how did sam fall for this woman oh my god i cant even listen to her speak without wanting to use the power of bitchhood i inherited from a long line of angry irish women to ridicule her to tears. maybe then she'll fucking understand how small she makes her fucking kid feel every time she turns a moment of bonding into a little "woe is me and my comfort zone oh how unfortunate i am to have a brilliant daughter that wants to connect with me through her greatest passion"

-she openly admits that she dumped the cargo sam was smuggling not because she felt any connection or sympathy or just didnt want to destroy someones chance at life in a capitalist society, but because he was a good pilot and she didnt want that talent to "go to waste" so she could recruit him. thats not really a thing against cora i just really fucking hate that and the picture it paints of her priorities as a human being

-"if we're going to be really honest here... back when we were a team... cora would follow you everywhere, like a little adoring dog. i... just fell out of it. long before we separated."

i literally. do not have words for how fucking disgusted i am by that line of dialogue. oh my fucking god. oh my fucking god. i. i TRULY would not even know where to start. the dog comparison makes me violently angry and if you'd given me a punch interrupt at that moment, i would have broken my keyboard punching the accept option

-go replay or watch a recording of that divorce counseling mission one more time. while you're doing it, imagine the roles reversed. imagine youre romancing a character thats a mother bringing cora into space, and the ranger standing in your cockpit asking to finish the mission is her father who took off to live at work once it was clear his little girl liked mommy better. imagine THAT while you listen to the (imo) out of fucking pocket dialogue where sam constantly praises lillian for being "a good ranger/woman." then you come back and tell me how comfortable you are with the concept of lillian hart as a character.

#sam coe #lillian hart negative #cora coe #starfield #meta #look man i know i know i have mommy issues and im biased but jesus fucking christ i cant stand her as a character #she's not a mother by any stretch of the imagination #she designated HERSELF as extended family and im forever disgusted #anyways im writing up a meta post abt my feelings on sam so far #lillian just gets on my fucking nerves so a hate post for her was easy to whip up lmao

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auspicioustidings · 8 months

Text

Lost Boys

Summary: Shameless COD Lost Boys AU as an excuse to try writing some smut because @ohbo-ohno has been killing me.

Words: 3.7k

CW: Dubcon bordering on noncon, rough sex

One thing about Santa Carla she could not stomach? All the damn locals.

She was used to working in Coney Island and she had thought this boardwalk out in California wouldn't be much different. She had been immediately proven wrong when she had arrived a week ago, moving in to a falling apart cabin out on the edge of town that Keegan had sworn up and down would be her dream home if she was willing to fix it up. He hadn't really explained how he came to own the place, but then he was the definition of a carny if she ever knew there to be one. She was pretty sure there wasn't one amusement park that man had not worked at, although conversations always seemed to draw back to Santa Carla.

It wasn't like his charming convincing had been the only reason she'd found herself here. She loved Coney Island, had practically grown up on the Thunderbolt, was damn near inconsolable when they shut it 5 years ago. But Coney Island now was not the same as the one she grew up with, everyone who worked there felt it. The rides were falling apart, closing or being torn down. Two people she knew had been shot this year alone. The place turned into an open air brothel at night it felt like, and not in the fun way back when it had all been music and moonlight and sex and rock and roll. It was sad.

Plus she was dirt poor, the decline of the amusements meaning she wasn't picking up as much work. If Keegan had wormed his way into her head with all his talk about how dangerous a neighbourhood she lived in, how much safer an actual house would be, how if someone would renovate it he wouldn't even charge rent because it would really help him out since he was currently travelling, well then she had been stupid enough not to pick up on the obvious trap.

Falling apart and very eerily decorated cabin aside, her first day on the Boardwalk felt like a series of increasing red flags. She loved the scent of the place, the bright cars grinding against their chains as they were dragged bodily up to the summit of the coaster under the hot sun, the sticky sweetness of candy apples being cut through with the salt the surfers dragged with them from the sea, the slight undertone of something mischievous, something even sinister. Any boardwalk she had been to had that same undercurrent, the same lurking sense of danger that sent her heartbeat running in excitement. This one it was dialled all the way to 11.

"Oi chiquita! I've not seen you around here before."

She turned. Surfer, well 2 of them actually. The one who had spoken was older than her in a way that really made his handsomeness cause her to scold herself. No sleeping with older men on your first day in a new city, even if the accent was like molasses. The one next to him was younger. Both incredible looking if she was honest, Keegan had not been kidding when he had said the people in Santa Carla were deathly attractive.

"Maybe I'm a tourist" she replied.

"Ah a pretty thing like you visiting all alone? You'll get eaten right up" said the other, both of them looking at her with an amusement over a joke she was not in on.

"Good thing I'm so bitter then, reckon I'll get spat right back out."

They laughed and she kept a light look of friendly amusement on her face, internally thinking that these guys were rude as fuck. She near jumped out of her skin when she felt a breath at her neck, whipping her head around to find a female surfer had sniffed at her throat.

"Ella huele dulce, ella sabrá más dulce" the newcomer purred.

"Atrás Valeria" the older man snapped.

"You're so up tight Alejandro" Valeria laughed meanly before turning to look at her, eyes dragging up and down in heated appraisal. "If you get bored of them, you'll come find me won't you dalzura?"

With that the woman sauntered off towards the beach, all arrogance and sex appeal. It wasn't like she hadn't heard her fair share of pick-up lines and come ons, it was practically a given when you worked at places like these, but it was rarer for a woman to come on to her and rarer still for the woman to have such an aggression about her. She'd be lying if it didn't cause a little spark of excitement to zip up her spine.

Alejandro and the other man watched Valeria go with something like suspicion.

"Be careful after dark, the boardwalk gets crowded with all sorts" the younger man said with a knowing wink.

"If you're still around tomorrow in the sunshine, me and Rudy will be on the waves" Alejandro added before they both took off after Valeria, seemingly intent on getting into some sort of fight.

Odd trio she thought, but most people who lived near places like this were. The locals only got odder as the day went on.

An absolute giant of a man in a hood whose eyes had narrowed in on her when she passed him, an exhibit in a freak show. The chains on him must have been for show, but the way they strained when he had lunged at her actually did make her jump.

The Southern man who seemed to have some sort of control over all of the game stalls, told her when she had tried out the ring toss that his shadows had been telling him she had won most of the games she had tried but not taken any prizes. It ran a chill up her spine the way he eyed her when he introduced himself, the name Graves spilling off his tongue like whisky.

The one who actually gave her a job, Alex, seemed normal enough, the only thing out of the ordinary being a false leg. Well normal enough until it became apparent he was very knowledgeable about Santa Carla being the murder capital of the world. She didn't like that he spoke about it like it was something exciting, but as long as she had money in hand to operate a carousel she could overlook his quirks. He told her she could work the evening shift after watching her carefully run through things, proving that this was all familiar to her. This one had brass rings, she knew she'd probably spend her evening ducking out of the way of them when rowdy ride goers decided they would rather hit someone than redeem the ring for a free ride.

With the last wash of sunlight she wandered the shops around the area, sliding into a video store just as night fell to see if she couldn't find something to watch when she would get home after her first shift. Maybe Hellraiser was out on VHS now, she had missed it in the theatre and Keegan had told her it was fun.

"Hello there. John Price, how can I help?"

Back in New York it wasn't uncommon to hear a British accent, but this was the first one she had heard here. The man it came from was tall and had a hell of a beard. Bit eccentric looking with a fishing hat on his head, but with the people she was coming across today that seemed par for the course.

"Hi sir! Is Hellraiser out yet?" she asked as politely as she could muster. She knew that she was as much a carny as Keegan and that it tended to make respectable older people intensely dislike her from the get go if she didn't do everything to assure them she was an upstanding young lady.

"Horror fan?"

"A friend recommended it, to be honest I'm not sure what it's about."

She heard the bell going off, more people coming into the store. Her eyes caught on them, not least because one of them was in a skull mask. Tall as well, God so many people on this Boardwalk dwarfed her. Mr Price reacted very much like he knew them and was keeping an eye on them. The one with the mohawk was staring openly at her, leaning over to whisper something to the one with the moustache. Probably trouble makers, young men who lived in the area and were generally a nuisance on the Boardwalk. It got her back up a little, she had always hated people like them bullying everyone else, menacing businesses in the area because they were bored.

Mr Price had his arms crossed as him and the masked one stared at one another. To try de-escalate whatever this was she put a hand gently to one of his forearms.

"I'm happy to take any recommendations from you though."

Her attempt both worked and failed. Mr Price did turn his attention back to her, giving her a soft smile that all but made her melt. He seemed like a genuinely lovely man, the first one of the day. It was somewhat ruined by the boisterous laughter of the one with the mohawk.

"Look at this wee lassie, speaking all bonnie" he laughed, his rumbling accent and mocking putting her firmly in a place between annoyed and aroused.

He took a few steps forward, getting into her space. God he didn't half loom over her and he was not even the tallest man here. With him on one side of her and Mr Price on the other she felt like a prey animal. She could not tear her eyes away from the Scottish man as he grinned down at her. He was magnetic in the way watching an acrobat was, it felt like someone could die at any moment but she couldn't help but look. His rough hand carded through her hair and settled at her neck and she was sure he was about to kiss her. There was something terrifying about his presence the more she was in it, if he kissed her she thought her fight or flight might fail her and go instead to freeze.

"That's enough" Mr Price said, snapping her out of the odd trance she felt she was in. "You have a shift to get to love, on you go" he continued, putting a firm hand to the small of her back and steering her a little to get her moving towards the door.

The other man only moved when the one in the mask wrapped a gloved hand around the back of his neck, squeezing like she imagined someone would do to an errant mutt. It wasn't until she was out in the open air and gulping in breaths that she realised she had never told Mr Price she had a shift that evening. Word must travel fast here she supposed.

Her first night on the Boardwalk had put her out of her mind. God it was like being punched in the face with the ghost of what Coney Island should have been; swarmed with bodies that choked out all the oxygen, making it difficult to breathe anything that wasn't thick with the taste of the writhing masses. It made her sick in a way that bordered on delirium.

The carousel was always full, the music throbbing all the way into her molars. The bright colours flooding with artificial light meant she couldn't see much beyond the machine, feeling like she existed on a tiny island of horses and bodies. Touch was the only sense she felt she could trust now, a sensation that was what made her fall in love with this line of work in the first place. She would drag her hands past the horses, grip the brass rings so tight it made her knuckles white before returning them to the dispenser for the next person to try their hand, walk against the direction of the floor just to feel the breeze prickle goosebumps on her skin.

The hand on her arm felt searing hot.

"There you are, didn't even introduce yourself before you were running off like a scared little doe."

The man in the skull mask had a voice like gravel, speaking right into her ear to be heard over the music. It made it feel intimate knowing that the sound of him would not travel to anyone else, that it was only for her. She could not let him know that she was scared of him, of any of them. If she was going to work here, she needed the locals to know she could hold her own, that she wasn't someone for them to mess around with.

"I'm not scared, certainly not of you" she lied, puffing out her chest.

"Prove it."

He left her standing there dumbstruck, shaking and feeling slick between her legs from the way he had growled it into her ear. The moment he was off of the carousel it was like he had melted into the crowd beyond. Alex showed up at some point, she didn't know how long it had been, and told her that he would take over. His eyes were bright and excited and it made her want to throw up.

He was waiting for her, the skull mask man. Her stomach was doing flips at the sight of him on a bike. She thought it might fully turn itself inside out when the Scottish man materialised behind her, pressing his nose to her pulse point before tugging at her earlobe with his teeth. Sharp, they felt sharp.

"Ghost says yer naw a fraidey cat, reckons you'd be willing to prove it" he cooed into her ear, big hands wrapping around her waist and lifting her onto the back of the bike behind Ghost. "Better hold on, he's naw going tae go slow."

Before she could get herself right back off of the bike one of Ghost's hands grabbed her arm, wrenching it around his waist and holding it there in a vice grip. When the bike took off she had little choice but to wrap the other arm around to avoid being thrown off, screaming into his ear to let her go. He did, putting his second hand back to the handles. At the speed they were going it didn't help, she had to keep clinging. She heard the howling of the Scottish man, on his own bike speeding along next to them.

She was scared out of her mind but the solidness of the body she was wrapped around and the hard vibrating of the seat between her legs was torturous in a way that was so sickeningly incompatible with her fear.

When they stopped she was dazed, trying to resist the whine that wanted to escape when the engine cut out and the bike stilled beneath her. The body in front of her shifted, moving until he was sat facing her. She put her hands to his shoulders, meaning to use them as leverage to push herself up and off the bike but instead The Scottish man pushed her back down from behind, his hand quickly moving from her shoulders down her front.

"Fuck baby, ye enjoy that huh? Could see ye grinding down whenever Si revved up" he groaned, groping roughly at her tits.

This was wrong, she should not be here. She should not be doing this. The adrenaline was so she could get out of this situation, not so she could moan loudly when his fingers found her nipple and fucking twisted.

"I already know you're soaked, can smell it pet" Ghost said, almost cruel, before biting off a glove and shoving a hand into her pants. He stroked two fingers up the length of her cunt, making sure his nail caught her clit the second time and laughing at her when she cried out at the sensation. Watching him withdraw his hand and show his glistening fingers to the man behind her made humiliation burn through her.

"Open up Johnny."

She was caught in the middle of them as Johnny took Ghost's fingers in his mouth, moaning as he messily suckled her off of them. There was no music here, no crowds to cover the noises of Johnny sloppily choking himself on Ghost's fingers, his saliva dripping onto her shoulder.

"Please Si, please let me eat her" he begged around Ghost's fingers and fuck if that didn't make her clench.

"Patience Johnny" Ghost scolded in response, withdrawing his fingers and grabbing at her jeans, pulling them off of her. It was a little awkward with how they were positioned, but once he got one leg off of her foot he just left her jeans dangling from the other, not bothering to get them all the way off now that he had the access he wanted.

The cool night air smacked onto her bare skin like an open palm. He rucked up her shirt next, pushing her down until her lower back hit the bike in the process so that her head was hanging off the end, lined right up with Johnny's dick which was visibly straining against his pants.

She tried to bring herself back up only to scream when a hand slapped hard onto her pussy, the thin fabric of her soaked panties doing little to soften the blow.

"Stay fucking still doll unless I tell you otherwise" Ghost growled at her.

He didn't take her panties off, just shoved them out of the way so he could spear two fingers into her. She yelped, trying to move back but only managed to grind her face against Johnny who growled long and low.

"So fucking tight" Ghost hissed, pumping his fingers in and out, "Johnny get her to relax would you?"

She could hardly breathe when Johnny leaned over her, clothed dick pushing relentlessly against her face, so that he could grip onto her hips and start lapping at her clit over her panties. She weakly pounded her fists against his thighs but if he could feel it then he wasn't reacting, seemingly lost in the task at hand.

"That's it, such a little slut for it, making a fucking mess of my bike."

It was overwhelming, the lack of oxygen, the feeling of Johnny sucking and licking at her clit like he was made for it, the fingers pistoning in and out, Ghost's degrading. Her hips tried desperately to buck up but Johnny only growled like an animal and held them roughly down as she came, not letting up for even a second.

The tears were streaming from her eyes by the time they made her cum again, a delicious stretch coming from Ghost adding a third finger. Johnny was rock hard against her face, rutting into her and starting to whine.

"Si, please. Please I'll be good. I'll be so good. Need her bonnie mouth around my cock or I'm gonna die. Please" he begged incoherently.

She was boneless when Johnny stood, giving her some breathing room. The pathetic whine she gave when Simon's fingers left her cunt should have been embarrassing, but she was barely able to formulate a full thought. The sound of clothing being adjusted should have been the first clue that they were nowhere near done. The sight of a throbbing cock at her lips was a pretty big second one.

"Come on, there ye go lass, fuuuuuck that's it" Johnny hissed as he pushed himself into her mouth. Nobody had ever been in her mouth at this angle, her head dangling upside down. He kept pushing in even when her panic response set in at the intrusion, hands battering against his legs and she gagged around him and tried to shift away, further towards where Ghost was sitting.

She screamed around the cock in her throat when Ghost rammed himself into her.

"I said stay fucking still!" he growled, leaving no time for adjustment before setting a hard and fast pace, every thrust sending her jolting back onto Johnny's dick.

Fuck it was so much, she was so full, she couldn't fucking breathe. Johnny had a hand around her throat, feeling his own bulge there as he fucked in and out of her.

"Steamin' Jesus, you take cock like a fucking dream bonnie."

The reverence he said it with sent her hurtling towards another orgasm, the pain still just on the side of pleasure.

"Fucking slut, trying to milk me aren't you? Want me to cum in this pretty little cunt and knock you up doll? Is that it?"

"Fuck Si, need tae cum, please let me cum."

Ghost was growling, not giving her a break as he fucked her through her orgasm to the point that the overstimulation was painful. Johnny's thrusts were erratic now, making it even harder to figure out when to breathe.

"Earn it, make her cum again."

She was pretty sure she would die if she came again, but Johnny leaned over her body and went right back to work, slobbering all over her clit as Ghost continued to mercilessly piston in and out of her. She tried to squirm, tried to do anything to get Johnny's mouth the fuck off of her. The hand around her throat squeezed.

"Fucking take it" he growled against her clit, a sharp sting from an incisor grazing against it jolting her before he sucked hard. She howled around his cock and felt herself squeeze hard against Ghost's as she saw stars.

"That's it, good fucking girl" Ghost hissed, burying himself to the hilt and letting that delicious squeeze milk him dry inside her.

She was so thoroughly fucked out that when Johnny came down her throat she couldn't swallow, just choking and sputtering as she hung limply off of the bike. When hands gently pushed her back up so she was sat upright the blood all rushing back down from her head made her pass out.

It could have been seconds or hours later when she screamed herself back into consciousness, feeling the sharp sting of teeth sinking into the flesh of her throat.

#cod #ghoap au #ghoap x reader #dark fic #cod lost boys au #mhairiwrites

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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 1 year

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More Than An Intern (Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader) *PARENTAL

Characters: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: Mention of drug addiction, child abandonment

Request: Imagine: Tony has a daughter in a one night stand when he's 21. He doesn't know of the kid's existence. Mom has post-partum depression, struggles financially, becomes an addict and sells the baby to random guy (he works for Hydra and knows that the kid is Tony's-It's an extension of Project Insight and they wanna train people with brilliant ppl DNA). Around Ironman 1 and 2, she gets inside Stark Industries as an intelligent intern and Natasha catches her spying and the rest is left to you. 😊

The silence in the stairway where you were sat against the wall between floors was deafening, so quiet that you were certain that if someone was to step into it they’d hear your heartbeat from the top floor. You could definitely hear it, so loud that it was like standing beside a speaker at a concert, but you tried to act calm and collected like any other day, hunched over your phone, a half eaten sandwich in hand, like you did every other day in this internship that you had been working for the past 3 months.

Nothing to raise suspicion. Nothing to make anyone think you were up to anything. Nothing to make anyone think you’re a spy.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were so nervous about this. You’d done similar things before in the past despite your age, but this was a much larger project for you. You were stealing weapon blueprints and plans from one of the greatest minds and also in one of the most secure buildings you’d ever seen. Normally you would be able to do a simple sneak in and out within an hour, but you quickly realised that this would be a case of sneaking in, hiding in plain sight, not raising suspicion, gaining their trust, gathering the intel, and then sticking around a while afterwards instead of booking it to maintain that trust and also to get them off your scent and tie up any loose ends if needs be. You couldn’t mess this up. They’d kill you.

After finishing your sandwich, you checked the clock on your phone, having memorised the routine of those who use the lab just down those stairs, and knew it would be empty now. You packed your things up, before heading down the steps, going through the door at the end and into the hallway. You tried not to look around too much, instead heading straight to the lab door, going on your phone, and after clicking a few buttons you glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room, seeing it power down, before you walked to the door, finding it unlocked and letting yourself in. You wasted no time in searching the space quickly for anything important, not wanting to focus your time on something and as your leaving realise you’d missed something even more valuable. You spotted Tony’s desk as well as some of his suits in the corner in the midsts of construction and repairs. Seeing no cabinets, you walked over to the desk looking over everything on the table- papers, blueprints, and the interface instead of computer. Unfortunately for you, you knew that to get in you’d have to temporarily disengage JARVIS to get inside unnoticed, so that was down, so you were relying on the physical copies, which luckily it seemed that Tony had out- usually to show to the ‘old people’ like Mr Rogers and the God who you kept away from. You looked over the papers, not moving any of them, just looking for anything of importance. You saw design ideas for his suits, suits that didn’t exist yet, designs for their unique abilities- notably weapons that fit in your hand. Bingo.

“What’cha doing?” The voice made you jump a little, eyes shooting up to the door of the lab, seeing a familiar red head leant against it with a smirk, arms crossed. You of course knew who she was- Natasha Romanoff, one of the most deadly assassins in the word, and she just caught you somewhere where you didn’t have clearance.

“Oh- I’m so sorry- I was looking for Mr Stark. My clearance pass keeps messing up and my supervisor didn’t know how to fix it so I hoped he’d be able to…” You switched to the personality you’d perfected the last 3 months, a shy, anxious, fly on the wall girl fresh out of college, eager to learn and a goody-two-shoes… okay some of those traits might have already been yours, but it just selled the character. “And now I’m saying it aloud I realise that’s… stupid. Sorry. I’ll go.” You tried to excuse, but as you went to rush out embarrassed, she stepped in front of you, making you halt. She glared down at you, and you shrunk into yourself. “I’m really sorry, I won’t come in here again, I promise.” She raised an eyebrow at you, before grabbing your arm, pulling it out, showing her your phone, and she plucked it from your hand. She removed the case off the back, turning it over, showing the small chip on the back- a small tracking device that also sent all info on the phone to another location. HYDRA. You were anxious before, but the second her eyes landed on the chip, it vanished. You’d failed your mission, and now it was a lose- lose situation, all options probably ending in you tortured or dead, or both. Now, you were terrified.

Her eyes came back up to meet yours, and it felt like she was reading you like a book, dissecting you piece by piece. She knew your name was fake, your background fake, your credentials fake.The person she’d seen around the tower didn’t exist, and now she was piecing together who you really were. A Hydra agent. A young one at that- she thought you looked a bit young for 23, but clearly had at least some decent skills to have snuck under her nose and get past Tony’s security checks for months. “Are you going to co-operate?” She inquired.

“I don’t have a choice.” You huffed, dropping the act. The red head grabbed your arm, leading you out of the lab and to the elevator, taking you up to the floor where the meeting rooms were (why Tony needed more than one you never knew), shoving you into one of them, sitting you down in one of the chairs. “JARVIS?” She called, hoping that the AI would still be working here.

“How may I be of assistance Miss Romanoff? I am aware that I seem to have lost connection to Mr Stark’s lab-”

“I’m also aware of that. Please let Mr Stark know immediately that I’ve caught an undercover agent in his lab- that was why you’ve been locked out.” Natasha interrupted the AI, not wanting to waste any time. “I’m keeping her in one of the meeting rooms.”

“Of course Miss Romanoff.” The AI responded. You slumped into your seat, chin resting on your chest as you kept your eyes on Natasha who guarded the door to ensure you didn’t make a run for it, and it wasn’t long till you could see Tony Stark through the glass walls of the room, and he looked back at you as he came into the room.

“So, who’s this little troublemaker, Romanoff?” Tony asked her as she shut the door behind him and locked the door.

“Undercover agent, probably HYDRA, it’s their usual style, though I think this one has been here a while… JARVIS?” Natasha called again.

“Our files say she’s been working here for 3 months. I’ve done a deeper background check on her files and it seems she does not exist, and is using a fake identity.” JARVIS answered. Your eyes were kept on Natasha after Tony entered the room- she was the deadly one, one of the main ones they had warned you about, and your eyes were focussed on her so closely you didn’t spot Tony stalking closer till he stepped in front of you, blocking your line of sight on the woman, and squatting down in front of you. In that moment, your fear of Natasha seemed to diminish as Tony looked at you like a disapproving parent or something. You felt almost ashamed. Almost.

“What’s your name? Your real name?” He asked you. You paused, not answering him. “Don’t make this difficult. If you cooperate then we-”

“Are you going to kill me?” You asked, interrupting him. Your question seemed to catch him off guard as he straightened his posture a little, blinking a bit.

“No. Of course not.” He spoke confidently, but also bewildered, which gave you some comfort that he was probably telling you the truth. “Is that what they told you? That if you failed this mission they put you on you’d be killed by us?”

“Or them… You caught me, if they find out they’ll kill me.” You spoke lowly and oddly calmly despite how terrifying that thought was.

“Were you in the Red Room?” Natasha inquired to you. It was something she remembered being told when she went on missions before she graduated, a way to control her and the others, and it seemed to line up with your age, but you shook your head. “How long have you worked for HYDRA?” She asked instead, and she caught you swallowing in response.

“Better question, how old are you?” Tony asked. “I’m not sure if you have a baby face or if you’re actually a child.”

“I’m not a kid.” You huffed.

“That’s something a kid would say. More specifically a teen.” He responded. “Especially a teen who’s close to no longer being one and wants to be seen as an adult. 16? 17?” He questioned, and when your eyes averted at the second guess, he knew he hit the jackpot. He knew from his own guessing that you were a kid, but to actually confirm it seemed to light something inside of him, a sort of despair and fury. You were a kid, a kid with training that would have taken years, and the brainwashing they’d ingrained in you to make you think they’d kill you is something they’d have to have put into your head at a young age. So young you knew nothing of the outside world. “Do you know anything other than HYDRA? Parents? Siblings?” He asked far more softly, tilting his head a little.

“...I had a mom. She gave me to them.” You answered him in barely a whisper.

“How old were you when she did that?” He asked, getting a shrug in response. “So young. Really young, probably younger than 4, maybe a baby or a toddler?” He asked, and you nodded. Your sudden willingness to respond to his questions didn’t go unnoticed, and Tony knew he had unlocked a way to get you to open up- softness and kindness, something you probably hadn’t seen… ever. “Do you know what her name was? Or what she called you?” He asked.

“I don’t know her name, but HYDRA called me Y/N, so I think that’s my name.” You answered him.

“Alright. I really want to find out more about you so I can help you, okay? Would you be okay if we get Dr Banner here so he can get a few swabs and maybe some blood to try and find out more about you? Who knows, maybe you have some siblings or some grandparents wondering where their granddaughter is and we can give you a fake name and you can start afresh, alright?” He suggested to you, and when he didn’t get a disagreement, he turned to Natasha, standing up. “Let’s up security to ensure she’s safe.”

The next couple of hours were admittedly quite boring. You were placed into a holding cell, searched for other weapons or technology, Dr Banner came, took some swabs from your mouth and some blood, and Natasha quizzed you about your entire time under HYDRA, what you had worked on prior, names you remembered and the sort of thing they put you through. Admittedly, you weren’t very talkative with her- she was quite stern and cold with you, and you were expecting that as soon as she got her answers she’d just put a bullet between your eyes, which was why you purposely kept some of your own information from her. Inevitably she gave up and left you be, and after another half an hour of boredom, you tried to get comfy, eventually finding yourself resting your head on the cold table in front of you, and closing your eyes, drifting uncomfortably between sleep and enough conscious to know when someone was walking by your cell, and it was enough to know when the door opened. Your eyes opened, your head already turned to see the door, letting you see it was Tony stepping in, stopping when he saw your eyes on him, before he shut the door behind him and moved to sit down as well, and only then you raised your head to look at him. You noted the slip of paper in front of him, which was odd since he usually liked to keep things digitalised, though he took one glance at it before placing it face down so you couldn’t read it.

“Did you find anything?” You asked him, his eyes looking up to meet yours, and you immediately knew from the emotions swimming in them, he had. There was a heavy feeling of guilt emitting from him, weighing his eyes down and making it hard for him to meet yours, and you knew it wasn’t good news. “If it makes you feel any better, I have no memories of my life before HYDRA, so I have no emotional ties. I’m not gonna cry.” You tried to assure him, mostly hoping he’d just spit it out. He cleared his throat finally, leaning on the table, resting his arms on the piece of paper.

“You had a mother.” He started, and your mind immediately noted the past tense.

“Dead?”

“Complications due to drug use. A few years ago.” He confirmed. “She formed the addiction a few weeks or months after your birth- I got records of your birth, they gave her a blood test then and she was clean and healthy. It was probably Postpartum Depression that led her there, and after your birth there’s no trace of you, so you weren’t taken by social services, or reported missing…”

“So she handed me over to them? Is that what you’ve established?” You inquired, sticking to your word and not showing emotion, remaining calm and collected and cold, and Tony nodded, his eyes dropping again, the guilt he was emitting seeming to only weigh heavier.

“I knew her… your mom.” He admitted after a pause, still not looking up. “Before she had you, before she… I knew her when we were in university together. She was studying something else in a different building, I don’t remember what, I never really got to know her despite the fact that…” He seemed to catch himself before he said anything, shuffling in his seat, and his nervousness was starting to rub off on you as you shuffled in your own seat, crossing your arms against your chest, not sure what he was getting at. Did HYDRA know he knew your mother? If so, why did they send you to do this mission? Why does that matter?

“How is this relevant?” You asked him blankly.

“We were…” He seemed to stumble over his words, before he rethought the, and spoke again. “We were able to track down a paternal line as well, and that proved that you’re… mine.” He confirmed, and it was like there was a flick of a switch, and you felt the change both in the room and in your body. Ah. That was why he was so anxious all of a sudden. His eyes stayed on you, but remained quiet, waiting for a reaction, though you weren’t giving him much. Your expression barely changed, with no signs of shock or joy or sadness or anything, other than confusion, judging by your eyebrows coming closer together.

“That doesn’t make sense. Why would HYDRA send me to do a mission involving you if they knew we were father and daughter?” You asked him.

“I don’t think they knew. We don’t know what kind of detail your mom gave about your background before handing you to them, or if she even knew I was your father to begin with. But that doesn’t matter right now- what matters now is that you’re here, you’re safe, and you’re my top priority right now. I need to keep you hidden to the best of my ability until we can even convince HYDRA it’s a lost cause to go after you, or think you’re dead.”

“So, a safe house?”

“Exactly. I’ve got this little cabin on the edge of a lake that surrounded by woodland, little to no internet connection, it’s practically hidden from a birds eye view. I’ll up security there, but I’ll have it excused by me also being there as a sort of getaway with me and Pepper. That’ll also let us get to properly know each other, see where we stand, what you’re comfortable with and how involved you’d like me to be. If at the end of the time there you decide you want to go and do your own thing I understand, I’ll support you with whatever you want to do. If you want to go live in a tiny town in Wyoming then I’ll find you a nice place there and I’ll just want to keep tabs on you to ensure you’re safe. If you want to make up for lost time, go to college and live with us until you’re ready to go, then I’m happy with that.” He explained, almost rambling in nature, but it brought a faint smile, but a smile none the less to your face.

“Thank you.” You interrupted him, making him stop, and relax a little and smile back.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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riahlynn101 · 7 months

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What are your thoughts over the movie? I have some myself (and a mild mental breakdown over the Thing™), but overall, it was good. I want to talk about it with anyone, lol

Okay, so....

Spoilers below the cut:

Firstly, I loved it. You can tell how much effort they put into this movie, and it really shows. Kudos to everyone involved.

Things I liked:

Piper Rubio did amazing. No comment beyond that. Abby is one of my favorite characters now, and if anything happens to her, I'll cry.

Actually, all the kids did a wonderful job. Especially Grant Feely. He really embodied that creepy, restless spirit vibe.

Mike and Abby's sibling relationship was everything to me!

Vanessa asking Mike if he wants to dance with her (OMG).

The Springbonnie suit looked great!

Mike having a little bit of an attitude (I love him so much)!

The animatronics were cool. I like that they took the time to make them seem friendly, and almost childlike, before switching gears.

Things I didn't like:

I'm not an expert on filmmaking, so excuse me if I'm wrong here. But the pacing was all over the place. The first act of the movie was perfect, and then the second act was....fast. Like fast-fast. Based on what other people are saying, I'm 99.9% sure they cut out a lot of footage.

This one might come back to bite me in the ass later, but some plotlines felt unnecessary. I know this is FNAF and complicated is written somewhere between Freddy and Fazbear, but did we really need some side plot about an evil aunt? They didn't go anywhere with it, and we still don't know what happened to her. Did Golden Freddy K.O her? Kill her? Who knows? Because we certainly don't. We see her legs, and then she's never mentioned again.

I don't know if this is controversial, but I hate that Vanessa's an Afton. Maybe it's because I was so set on Mike being an Afton, but I really, really hate that they changed it. (I'll elaborate on that more down below).

I felt like they could have given us some more background. Some more flashbacks to the 80s. Anything.

I know I'm being overdramatic, but having the plot twist be Vanessa's an Afton kind of killed all my excitement. Which is stupid, I know, but yeah....

I mean, I'm still going to write fanfictions about the movie, and about all the ways that Mike Schmidt is actually Michael Afton.

--Sorry in advance, but I'm going to ramble--

I have a feeling that William knows Mike better than he's letting on. Of course, he did kidnap Garrett, who could have told William everything about Mike. He could have also watched the news and seen Mike with his parents, asking for Garrett to come home.

But that's not the vibe i was getting from William during the office scene. But I'll let you all decide for yourselves:

William Afton is a skilled manipulator and actor, but the expression he makes looking down at his coffee doesn't scream, "holy shit, the brother of my victim is sitting in my office." He has no reason to look concerned. Mike has no idea who he is, and he isn't even looking at William. So, why put on a show?

Also, the change in his attitude is telling. He went from cold and distant to personable in a heartbeat.

Of course, there's always the possibility that I'm totally wrong, and William is scared he's been found out. Which could be true, given that he doesn't hesitate to fuck Mike up the second he's able to.

In the same vein, why would William Afton-a guy known for killing/kidnapping kids around the pizzeria, or at least close to the pizzeria-drive to the middle of nowhere, pick a random kid, and kill him? I know he's crazy, but I don't buy it.

Some people are saying that Garrett is a Charlie parallel, and that Mike is Henry's son. Which could be the case, I mean, we see a mechanic in the training video that bears a striking resemblance to the actor that plays Mike's dad. I don't know if those two things are connected, but it's interesting to point out.

But, like I said, it's weird that William went out of his way to kidnap a kid for no reason. And he likely wasn't in a costume (at least I hope he wasn't, because if he was and no one saw who took Garrett, I think a kidnapped child is the least of their worries.) So, how did he convince Garrett, who was by himself for a grand total of five second, to get in the car? Maybe he offered him candy or toys? I dunno.

I might go into all the evidence/theories so far that Mike's an Afton in another post. And where they're going with Garrett's character. But yeah....

Everyone, please, feel free to share your thoughts on the movie. I would love to hear them :D!!

((Thank you for this question btw <3333))

#answered asks #asks open #fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoilers #fnaf mike schmidt #Vanessa #fnaf william afton #garrett schmidt #abby fnaf

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wacky-nameless-inventor-24 · 3 months

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Think about this THINK ABOUT THIS. Royalty Mads and Black Heron being the only people who can beat each other in a fight. To everyone else they’re untouchable but they stand a chance against each other

like- imagine being the most powerful deadliest person in all the known surrounding area and knowing it. you know and everyone else knows just how dangerous you are and to cross you is death. Your own king holds you in high favor and keeps you close because he knows if he doesn’t he’d be dead in a heartbeat. Then one day your top student, your prized pupil, the kid you raised and who holds you as almost a parental figure and who you’ve spent his entire life pushing to be just like you, actually beats you in a practice fight. You haven’t lost a battle in over a decade and you lose a practice spar to your kid. You demand you go again and you win (and teach him a lesson in the process), but you know he could beat you again. He’s starting to become your one weakness, and not in an emotional sense. He’s suddenly gone from beneath you, someone you can kick around, to genuinely dangerous. You didn’t realize making him just like you would make him a threat.

and on the other side of that imagine having this parental figure who’s hurt you, abused you, pushed you to your limit way too many times, who you look up to and love more than anything else your whole life, and finally being strong enough to beat her. To have a chance at standing up to her. And you expect her to be proud, because this is what she’s been teaching you to do your whole life, right? That’s what all of this has been for? But instead she’s livid- and immediately proves she can still beat you. And she goes harder than she has in years- she doesn’t let you tap out, she fights until you’re nearly unconscious and unable to fight back. It’s not practice anymore, she’s proving she’s still better, she’s still scary. You’ve long surpassed everyone you grew up with in skill, the only person who can still beat you is your mentor parental figure, who isn’t happy you’re finally catching up to her. You’ve become what she’s always wanted- but for some reason it isn’t enough.

And then imagine them meeting in a fight a decade later, sworn enemies, and fighting for their lives against each other. The closest thing they ever had to family and now they’re wholeheartedly ready to kill each other with their bare hands. They’re the only ones who can stand a chance against each other- and for once neither of them is certain they’ll win.

#UAAAAAAAGH #having. too many feelings about this #like #LIKEEE #they are so. obsessed with each other #their relationship is awful and fascinating and beautiful and horribly abusive and I want to study it under a microscope #black heron #mad ducktor #madfen royalty au #gyro gearloose

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vidumavi · 8 months

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Many Sentences Sunday!

thank you @searchingforserendipity25 and @grey-gazania for the tags! From my second age Nimloth & Kids reembodiment fic, the beginning of an excruciating social interaction:

_______________

The twins had found other children to play with on the beach and Nimloth, though letting them out of her sight for long still made anxiety coil tightly in her stomach, thought it best to leave them to it - new people would be good for them after their long isolation. They hadn’t gotten to play with children their age at all since they’d returned.

They were safe here. It would be fine. The sooner she accepted that she could not always hover over them, the better. Nimloth ran her errands, pointedly unhurried, forcing herself to stop and chat every now and then.

The palace of Alqualondë loomed over the docks, blindingly white in the midday sun, a jagged cloud against the azure sky. Nimloth thought that she quite preferred it out here, amid the amiable chaos of market stalls and fishing boats.

After some hours, her steps led her back along the road toward the beach. She was so occupied with keeping her pace measured that she did not take particular notice of the woman walking in the opposite direction until Eluréd and Elurín stuck their heads out of the cart she was pushing.

“Emmë!” Eluréd called and waved when he saw his mother.

The ground tilted beneath her feet. The woman’s face at once split into a cheerful and open smile as she turned toward Nimloth and lay torn and bleeding on the polished floor of Menegroth’s great hall, eyes unseeing. No, not this woman’s face, only one very like it, she told herself sharply and bit her cheek hard enough to return fully to the present, clenching her shaking fingers in the fabric of her bag.

“Children,” Nimloth said, and prayed that her voice did not sound as strained to them as it did to her, “I told you to wait by the beach.”

“We were coming to meet you!” Elurín clambered over the side of the cart.

“Do forgive me,” the woman said wryly, “Your sons have been quite the help and we thought we’d spare you another walk.”

“Of course, no problem at all,” Nimloth replied weakly.

The woman was dressed in well-worn, practical working clothes, her reddish hair was cut unfashionably short and she appeared to be pushing a number of rocks of uncertain purpose in her cart. Does she know? Nimloth thought wildly. But there was nothing in the woman’s easy cheer that spoke of recognition.

She’d been collecting rocks, she told Nimloth, who could hardly hear her over the sound of her own frantic heartbeat. Eluréd was still sitting in the cart.

Then, with a bow, she introduced herself as Nerdanel. I know, Nimloth wanted to say. The words stuck in her throat. Instead, she stumbled her way through her own introduction, giving the same false name she’d handed out all day, glad she did not need to hesitate. Memories she kept carefully detained throughout her waking hours pressed in on her mind.

“These two have quite the eye for colour,” Nerdanel said appreciatively as they began walking back toward the harbour.

“They’re rather neat, too,” Nimloth heard herself say, “I’ve rarely met children so neat.” I killed your son. He looked just like you.

Nerdanel laughed.

“I envy you! Our house was always a mess.”

“Don’t, my daughter is much worse,” Nimloth looked at the twins, away from Nerdanel’s bright, too-familiar eyes that told her to grab her children and run, “She’s a woman grown now, and I find myself sorting her kitchenware.”

_________________

This has been passed around so often now and everyone's been repeatedly tagged, but just in case someone wants to go another round i'm no-pressure tagging @theworldisquietheretooquiet, @samarqqand, @that-angry-noldo, @outofangband, @swanmaids and @polutrope!

#i've absolutely gone through it this week but i am back. i think #fic

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vendettaspathfanfic · 6 months

Text

Chapter One

(Chapter Index)

(Previous)

(Next)

Before the Destructix could eagerly begin their journey of revenge and chaos, however, there was one thing they couldn’t ignore.

They needed food.

Their search led them through the grimy and confined labyrinth of neon-lit city streets, eventually bringing them to a modest ramen shop tucked away in the urban chaos. The windows looked as though they’d never been washed, the staff’s lack of hope was visually obvious, and there were roaches crawling around a man’s bowl who had fallen asleep at his table. The ramen itself, however, was listed at a great price!

Scourge found himself fighting back a rush of saliva threatening to spill from his mouth. He was typically indifferent when it came to ramen, but he was more than willing to have any somewhat edible food that wasn’t shoved in his face or stolen from him. As it stands, his jacket had gotten noticeably loose from losing at least 10 pounds, leaving the disgruntled green hedgehog to constantly adjust it.

“Here, guys.” Scourge almost blurted out as he headed for the door, his hunger pulling him forward like a magnet. The closer he got, the more potent the smell became thus causing his accelerating heartbeat to block out most noise.

Fiona Fox couldn’t help but laugh a little as she heard her tough-as-nails boyfriend quietly begin panting over some cheap ramen.

"What?" A confused Scourge turned to face Fiona, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Realizing that her boyfriend was unaware of his irregular breathing, Fiona dismissed his question with a nonchalant wave and a whispered "nuthin." Turning to the cashier, she ordered, "6 bowls." Then she instructed one of their group, "Fly, save us some seats outside,” completing the transaction and accepting the waiting number in return.

"Okay-dokay!" replied Flying Frog, hopping outside with wild enthusiasm. Moments later, the group watched through the grimy window as six startled people were flung through the air, accompanied by Flying Frog's triumphant voice announcing, "I got us the neat-eat-seats!"

Unfazed, the group waited until their food was done before going outside to an equally unfazed population.

“Uh, does nobody care that Flying threw people around?” Sgt. Simian inquired, unsuccessfully searching the crowd for any signs of terror at what had just occurred.

“If you live here, you’ve seen worse.” Scourge rolled his eyes as they sat at the table. Once the aroma of ramen sat beneath his nose, he felt his other senses fade into a blur. His movements felt automatic as he cleaned the bowl in less than a minute.

“Babe, that’s hot,” Fiona warned, watching as the green hedgehog practically inhaled his ramen.

“You fhink me eating ramen is hoht?” He asked, chewing down the last mouthful of noodles with a puzzled look.

“No, Scourge, the ramen’s hot.”

Indeed it was. But since Scourge was a tough guy, he handled it with ease. He totally didn’t want to yelp as he felt a small yet painful burn forming on the roof of his mouth. He was too tough to let that bother him. He was perfectly fine.

"Yeah, ha," he managed to say after gulping down the remainder of his noodles and guzzling his soda in a single, long swig.

“Hey, don’t make yourself throw up, hon.” Fiona gently patted his back.

“Yes, please…” Predator Hawk muttered, blowing on his food before taking a bite.

“Yeah! I bet ‘Snot’ isn’t the worst name you could be yuck-muck-stuck with!” Flying blurted out, hopping in his seat. His comment incited quiet laughter from Predator and Lightning Lynx.

Scourge feigned laughter, “Yeah, right. Now, shut up.”

"Lighten up, tough guy. We're out of prison and we've got plans ahead of us." Fiona tried to soothe him, offering a light kiss on his cheek.

"Yep." Scourge perked up, reminded of his plan for vengeance, "That kid Miles is the first on the list. The whole 'Suppression Squad betraying me' thing was his idea."

“Are we killing a kid?” Lightning asked, leaning back in his seat and sipping his drink.

“No. At least not yet.” Scourge readjusted his red sunglasses. “He’s tougher than he looks, but I’m sure with all of us we can nab him that way we can get information on the castle's security.”

“What??” Simon nearly spit out his drink as he growled, “the brat gave you hell. He deserves-“

“Yeah, yeah I know that better than anyone, man.” Scourge sighed, “but look, it’s the most fool-proof way to get the castle back.”

“Yeah, well where are we gonna keep the runt?” Predator raised a brow crossing his arms.

"Welp, that's the first part of the plan, we need a safehouse," Scourge mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Somewhere low profile, where nobody will bother to look."

"Like somewhere abandoned?" Fiona suggested, resting her hand against her chin as she leaned on the table.

“Yeah… Hell, I’m sure it won’t be too hard to find…” as Scourge pondered potential locations for their hideout, he was distracted by a disgruntled man whose food was stolen from him. The man then stormed around, demanding to know who took it.

Fiona scoffed at his behavior and yelled, “get another bowl, jackass!”

“Fuck you, bitch! I want my fucking food!” Before he could yell anything else, he was lifted by the neck and slammed against a nearby wall.

“What the hell did you say to her!?” the man heard Scourge growl in his face, sending him into a sheepish state.

“I-I didn’t mean her I-“

“Bullshit! I’m gonna fucki-“

"Babe." Fiona gently patted Scourge's back, "If he's bold enough to talk like that, he wants business with me. Let me handle it."

Scourge rolled his eyes before tossing his victim to the ground.

“Now, it sucks that your ramen was stolen. But instead of yelling in people’s faces about who stole it…” she hoisted him up by his shirt and flung him into the shop like an unwanted rag doll, "just buy another fucking bowl!"

With that, she calmly returned to her seat, smoothing down her hair.

Scourge couldn't tear his eyes off of her, and he certainly couldn't suppress the grin that was spreading across his face. He muttered an appreciative "attagirl."

Fiona winked at him, having heard him murmur before asking, "More ramen?”

“Nah, I think I’m all set for now.”

“Are we all done?” Fiona asked the rest of the Destructix, receiving a collective ‘yeah’ in response.

“M’kay lezzgo.” She said before they got up to begin their search.

As they walked among the streets of the urban wasteland, Scourge frowned as he reached for his quills, searching for signs of growth. He was disappointed by the dull texture as a result of them being shaved down in prison.

“They’ll grow back.” Fiona reassured him, wrapping an arm around his midsection as they walked.

“Not fast enough. Hey, do ya have my smokes?” The thought energized him, as he hadn’t had one since before he was arrested.

She pulled the pack out of her purse, "Not many left, but better than nothing.“ The fiery fox pulled one out and placed it between his lips before arching an eyebrow and asking, "Mind if I have one?"

“Knock yourself out, Fi.”

"Thanks." After lighting their cigarettes, she took a puff and sighed, "Oh, this would be so much better if we were on our thrones…”

“Oh, I know what ya mean, baby.” He took a long puff and fixed his sunglasses, looking at the slums around them, “we fell from grace for sure, but it’s just a setback. It’s all part of the beginning.” He turned his head to her and gently ran a couple fingers through her hair. “Besides, I’m not leavin’ the queen of Moebius disappointed.”

Warmth flooded Fiona’s cheeks as she leaned into him, unable to fight off a grin “Well, when ya put it like that…”

“God, get a room…” Lightning rolled his eyes.

“Shove it.” Scourge scoffed, flipping the lynx off, sending him into a fuming rage.

“You shove it, you son of a-“

“Looky! Nobody’s been here for a smile-mile-while!” Flying Frog hopped over to a large, decrepit, concrete building with a rusted illegible sign.

Scourge inspected the building closely. Something about it was familiar. He couldn't put his finger on it until he saw the rotting remains of a small playground.

The realization sucked all the air from the green hedgehog’s lungs.

“What was this, a school?” Lightning asked.

“An orphanage,” Scourge felt like he was being strangled as he spoke.

Fiona, who knew Scourge better than anybody, recognized his tense state and told the others to set up inside as she spoke to Scourge in private.

"This is where you put her, isn't it?" She asked quietly, her gaze drifting over the shattered windows and crude graffiti.

“Yeah,” Scourge muttered after swallowing thickly.

“Hey… You didn’t know it’d turn out like this. Besides, maybe she got adopted before it--“

'Let me see the pack and lighter," he interrupted sharply, extending his hand.

With a slight purse of her lips, Fiona handed them to Scourge, crossing her arms as she watched him light up another cigarette.

"Wanna head in?" He asked, adjusting his glasses, his words accompanied by a puff of smoke.

“Lead the way, bruiser.” Fiona replied, motioning towards the door.

Scourge knew it was useless to try and piece together what happened to her. It didn’t matter if she was dead, adopted, or gathered up by law enforcement to be forced to work in a factory. He was never going to see her again. Even still, he couldn’t help but spare a thought for her.

That thought didn’t last long as he was brought back to reality by the gentle brush of his girlfriend’s hand against his.

“You alright?” she asked, her pinky finger instinctively curling around his in a comforting gesture.

“Hm? Yep.” He replied tersely with a nonchalant nod, his hand remaining static and unresponsive to her affectionate touch.

“Okay…” she murmured in response as they stepped in to join the rest of their gang, ready to inspect their new territory.

If it weren't for the sparse remnants of cheap toys and child-sized furniture scattered haphazardly, it would be difficult to imagine this place had ever served as an orphanage. The few decorative elements that had survived the wrath of vandals were dull and devoid of life, rendering the place akin to austere military barracks rather than a haven for orphaned children.

However, the place had its advantages, offering ample space to establish a makeshift base and plenty of mattresses for their comfort.

“How long has this place been abandoned?” Lightning asked monotonously.

“I last heard about this place being active when I was 11.” Scourge peered over his sunglasses to see better in the progressively dimming evening light.

“And you’re what? 15?” Predator interjected, a look of puzzlement etched across his face, "it looks like it's been abandoned way longer.

“16,” Scourge corrected him, rolling his eyes in mild annoyance as he adjusted his jacket once more. “It was a dump then, too. But it was the only orphanage around, so…”

“So, what?” Simon asked apathetically, crossing his arms.

“Nothing.” Scourge replied curtly, clearing his throat.

With an air of growing exhaustion, Fiona slowly blinked as she raised her hand to rub her eyes before instructing the gang, “well, we haven’t slept much since before we broke out, so we should do that before we get the show officially rollin’,”

A unanimous agreement followed, and together they scrounged up an assortment of worn-out mattresses to sleep on in various rooms for the night.

As Scourge laid on a set of child-sized, rotting mattresses, sleep proved itself to be rather difficult as the oppressive summer heat not only soaked him in a sticky layer of sweat but seemed to amplify the pungent aroma of neglect that permeated the decrepit building. Upstairs, Flying had chosen his resting spot, but was struggling to wind down. He vented his restless energy through a series of thunderous hops, each one so powerful that it dislodged tiny bits of debris from the ceiling, raining them down onto Scourge and Fiona as they sought rest in the room below.

“We only slept for, like, 3 hours since we broke out,” Fiona complained, her voice heavy with exasperation. “How the hell does he have that much energy?”

Scourge merely grumbled in response, his words barely comprehensible. He sat up, stripping off his jacket and sunglasses, and laid them neatly beside his makeshift bed.

“I almost miss the prison’s air conditioning,” the fox complained, her fingers restlessly picking at a loose thread on the mattress.

"Well, at least we're not lying on bare springs here," Scourge countered, trying to find a silver lining. He let himself fall back onto the mattress with a tired sigh.

“True.” Fiona grinned, conceding his point, before their conversation was interrupted by…

THUD!

Suddenly, they could no longer hear Fly hopping around.

A moment of silence passed before Scourge ventured to ask, “he dead?”

“Probably not.” Fiona dismissed the idea nonchalantly.

Realizing the absurdity of the situation, the two erupted into uncontrollable laughter.

“Rest in peace!” Scourge wheezed out between fits of laughter.

"We need...we need lights!" Fiona managed to gasp out between her guffaws.

Their laughter continued uncontrollably for the next ten minutes, each time they managed to regain composure, one would succumb to a fresh wave of laughter, triggering a relapse in the other.

Once they had finally regained control of themselves, Fiona clutched her stomach, wincing slightly from the strain the laughter had put on her muscles.

“Okay, we gotta sleep for real,” she said, reaching out to take Scourge's hand, her thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of it.

In response, he gave her hand a loving squeeze, “goodnight baby.”

“G’night, handsome…” she replied, a soft smile on her face as she began to sink into some much needed sleep.

In the quiet darkness of the night, Scourge let his mind roam free. Of course, he thought about the long journey ahead of rising to power and reclaiming what was once his and more. However, the thought of her reappeared in his mind again. Where was she? Was she ok?

He sternly reminded himself that it didn’t matter anymore before ignoring any more thoughts and drifting off to sleep.

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