#im just as unhinged as a mortal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lordprettyflackotara · 14 days

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noise || hoody

SMUT. MINORS DNI. 18+. remember when i talked about this hoody fic 509 years ago? yeah here it is. also yeS i am aware masky & hoody belong to marble hornets this is the only time im going to address this💀 we are in 2024 in this fandom WE KNOW. anyways enjoy !! <3

If there was anything you could’ve changed about your life, you had a particular decision in mind.

Being a desperate college student for cash, babysitting and dog walking wasn’t paying the off the debt you were accumulating.

You had scoured Craigslist, confident that there would be an odd job you’d be able to accomplish for quick cash.

Looking back you wish you had known quick cash wouldn’t come easy.

A posting offering $5k a week fell into your lap about a week later. The details seemed easy enough. The ability to clean an older mansion, whilst keeping the identities of the multiple infamous residents that resided there a secret seemed like a piece of cake.

What the posting didn’t list, was that the infamous residents were unhinged killers. Some of which you couldn’t even categorize as human.

It also didn’t list that your position would be residing in the mansion, permanently.

Being a maid in the Slenderman mansion was, in lack of better words: fucking terrifying.

The residents operated at odd hours. No matter what time you cleaned, you always received the displeasure of running into someone.

The longer you stayed, the longer paranoia began to settle in. Ben Drowned, the poster of the Craigslist ad, was a perv. You learned to stray away from electronic devices he could peep his head through. Jeff the killer, one of the most unhinged, had a short temper. He was one of the first ones to opt out of having his room cleaned by you, a decision you silently praised after walking by and seeing how filthy it was.

The next to opt out with a demonic creature named Eyeless Jack, one who specifically requested you stay out of his medical lab. Given all of the blood and goop you had mopped up at this point, a fear of being eaten led you to offering to clean it regardless. EJ knew you wouldn’t be able to handle it, given his ‘hobbies’ were the most gore filled of the mansions residents. It didn’t surprise him when you left the lab green, puking immediately in a bucket he had placed beside the door for you.

The other members whose names you were obligated to memorize, Jane, Clockwork, Jason the something maker, all were rarely home. You learned to steer clear of Jason’s workshop, the dolls he made often speaking to you as if they had souls. The only three other residents who lived in the mansion full time (minus its owner), were what you learned to be proxies. These proxies, two of them at least, seemed to be human just like you.

Ticci Toby’s mortality was still up in the air for you. He once had tripped and fallen after you had mopped the floors, landing on the marble face first. He got up like nothing happened, giggling to himself about ‘how wet you made the floor’. After observing him throw axes in the training room, you decided to steer clear of him.

Masky seemed to be the trio’s leader, his face consistently hidden behind a doll resembling mask. He avoided you like the plague, skipping the formalities and acting as if you didn’t exist. You never asked questions, not knowing how long anyone had truly been here. But Masky in particular seemed a bit older than everyone, when you accidentally stumbled upon him coming home late one night from a mission. His nose was trailing blood, his mask broken in half. You ensured to avoid eye contact, but extended a wet washcloth to him so he could attend to his nose.

After that your dynamic remained the same for the most part. Except when both of you occupied a room together, neither of you made an effort to beeline to the door.

Hoody was the last proxy, the one that made you more at ease than the others. Hoody had spoken a grand total of maybe ten words to you, introducing himself and Masky before dashing out of the back door. The only time you really saw him was when you cleaned his room, the man doing a poor job of pretending to read magazines while you cleaned. Other than that, you only caught glimpses of the proxies when they came home in the late hours of the night from missions.

Most of the time they were soaked in blood. In a couple of odd occasions you had to assist them in carrying one another up to Eyeless Jack’s medical lab. You couldn’t figure out why the proxies were here, two humans not seeming to fit in with the rest of misfits that resided here. You had no idea soon enough you’d be up close and personal.

Late night was when you preferred to clean, most of the killers away from the mansion and out hunting. The existence of the residents here only existed because of their dedication to keep their identities a secret. Night time was the perfect cover, for them and for you. You were leaning over the kitchen sink, scrubbing at a particular stubborn pot when you heard the back door open. You tried very hard not to stare, not wanting to gain unwanted attention.

You glanced up briefly, catching a glance of Toby’s and Masky’s familiar figures as they trudged upstairs. “He cost us that fucking mission, Slender’s gonna be so pissed off,” Masky growled, rounding the corner of the kitchen. Toby trailed behind him, an axe dripping blood slung over his shoulder. “Y-yeah, what w-w-was he thinking?!” Toby exclaimed, his stuttering something you had grown accustomed to. You noted Hoody’s absence, your eyebrows raising as you returned your gaze to the pot.

The sound of doors slamming echoed through out the other wise quiet mansion, the silence fulfilling you with some sort of ease. It didn’t take long for the final proxy to stumble into frame, his hand cupping his face. You weren’t forbidden from interacting with the mansions residents, your urge to help sweeping over you. Hoody was awkwardly stumbling, immediately leaning onto you for support as you helped him stay standing.

“I got it,” He huffed. His usual ski mask was half raised, the bottom half of his face revealed to you for the first time. His chin and upper lip had surprisingly clean cut facial hair, kept to a minimum. You guided him around the counter, helping him sit onto the kitchen counter by the sink. Hastily he shoved his yellow hood off of his head, yanking the ski mask off with it. You were surprised a normal human being stared back at you, a large gash sliced across his cheek.

“Jesus Christ,” You muttered. You grabbed a clean wash cloth, running it under cold water. “Didnt ask for your commentary doll,” Hoody said dryly. You swallowed, wringing out the excess water. You could’ve done what you did with Masky, handing him the washcloth and wishing him a silent farewell. But instead you didn’t. “Sorry,” You mumbled. You craved human contact, any kind of human contact. Brushing off your skirt you stepped in between his legs, leaning forward.

You were careful to avoid eye contact, focusing on dabbing the wound. Hoody silently winched under the feeling, inhaling through his teeth. As gently as you could you dabbed away the blood. “Do you want me to get EJ?” You asked. Hoody’s face was stone cold, from what you could see out of the corner of your eye anyways. “Dont bother, i’m sure he’s sick of patching us up all the time,” He grumbled. The wound didn’t look deep, just very long. Thankfully most of the blood was gone, the rest of his face covered in specs of dry blood (that you presumed to not be his) and dirt.

Turning on the sink you washed out the washcloth, the crimson paint drifting off down the drain with the water. You then returned to Hoody, wiping off his face. You weren’t sure what compelled you to be so compassionate, Hoody’s eyes fluttering shut. He took a deep breath, his shoulders seemingly relaxing. You were gentle of course, not wanting to piss the killer in front of you off. But even Hoody knew your action wasn’t callous.

Once you were done you awkwardly stepped aside, putting the rag in the sink. “You want a cig?” Hoody asked. He dug in his jeans, pulling out a beat up cigarette box. “Is this your way of showing gratitude?” You asked. The man in front of you smiled, extending you the box. “This right here is the only kind of buzz you’re getting around here doll,” He explained, allowing himself to half smile. You had never smoked a cigarette before, nor had you really planned on it. Not like it mattered now.

You put one to your lips like people did in movies, watching Hoody do the same. He pulled out a lighter, flicking it and igniting the end of his cigarette. You leaned forward, watching Hoody attempt to flick the lighter again. The flame refused to ignite, the sight of small sparks making him sigh. “Masky always takes the good lighters,” He muttered. He inhaled his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the right. You found the gesture of attempting to not violate you with smoke a little sweet.

“Well I appreciate the offer. I’ve never smoked a cigarette anyways,” You admit. Hoody shook his head. “That just won’t do then. Put it to your lips and stay still,” He ordered. You did as instructed, watching him lean closer to you. His fingers went under your chin, keeping your head held high. You felt your face beginning to burn, the end of his cigarette lighting yours as you inhaled. You both avoided each others gazes, until the second he began to back away.

For a brief moment you shared eye contact, searching each other’s eyes. For what? You didn’t know. You properly inhaled, coughing immediately. “You guys like this stuff?” You asked in between coughs, continuing to choke. Hoody nonchalantly took another drag of his, watching you struggle. “It’ll grow on you, trust me. I didn’t like it at first either,” He confessed. Once you regained strength in your lungs you properly stood up. Hoody remained seated on the kitchen counter, with you standing beside him.

“How long have you been here?” You asked curiously. You were stepping over a hundred boundaries, ones you could die for if you stepped over the line too far. “A while,” Hoody answered honestly. You took another drag of your cigarette, the taste of tobacco growing on you. “How long are you going to be here?” Hoody countered. You exhaled, glancing back at the proxy. He had exhaled through his nose, boldly making eye contact with you.

“A while.”

You found the courage to turn around, facing him fully. “You aren’t lonely?” You asked. Hoody gave you a smile, tossing the bud of his cigarette into the nearby trashcan. “I am, are you?” He asked curiously. You followed his lead, tossing the bud of the cigarette into the trashcan. If it set the kitchen on fire, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. “Yeah I am,” You admit. Hoody slid off of the counter, his tall height towering over you.

“Do you uh, wanna change that?” He asked. For a killer who had a victims blood splattered across his face moments ago, he seemed so awkward. You wondered how long it had been since he had been with a woman. How long would it be before you could be with a man again? “Please,” You sighed. Hoody kissed you just as rough as you expected, both of you melting into the other. Both of you were undeniably needy, touch depraved and lonely. You were sure this was forbidden for both of you but as his tongue slid into your mouth, you just couldn’t find it within yourself to care.

“Call me Brian but only when it’s us, okay? Thats not who I am anymore but that’s who I want to be with you, okay?” Hoody asked. You nodded, the normal name bringing your comfort. Brian’s hand snaked down your waist, squeezing and kneading at the flesh of your ass. You whimpered into his mouth, the sound only making him harder. There was no telling how much longer you’d be around, the residents of the mansion unhinged enough to snap at any moment.

You couldn’t fully undress here and going upstairs was out of the question. “This has to be quick, we can’t get caught,” You whispered. Brian nodded, slipping his hand up your skirt. He rubbed against your wet cunt, your panties preventing any further stimulation. Brian had zero control over his life but he did right here, right now. You had no control over yours either, the decision to fuck each other to release steam the only free will decision either of you could make. You palmed him through his jeans, his cock practically busting through the fabric.

He guided you to the counter, grabbing the sides of your panties and yanking them down to your ankles. He shoved them into his pocket for what you thought to be safe temporary keeping. But Brian had other ideas.

“Fuck, please, wanna feel you Brian,” You whispered, trying hard to not groan loudly. Brian quickly undid his belt bringing his lips back to yours. It had been so long since he had kissed anyone, your soft lips driving him mad. It wasn’t long before his cock was at your entrance, awkwardly shuffling with his jeans at his ankles. He fell a bit backwards, causing you to laugh. “Fucking hell, sorry-” He began apologizing. You giggled, hopping off of the counter.

You brought him fully to the ground, pushing his back against the oven. “This might work better,” You replied, lowering yourself down onto his cock. Brian’s cock felt like heaven, your mouth falling open. Both of you let out a sigh of relief. You had no way to masturbate, no way to possibly release the stressful tension building inside of you. As you pressed your forehead against Brian’s, you realized that this was what you got. This was your outlet.

Brian’s gloved hands met your waist, helping you roll your hips. You let out a loud groan, one of his hands flying to your mouth. “Shh, you can’t make any noise,” Brian warned, your inability to stay composed only making him more hot and bothered. He took control, guiding your hips to ride him at a pace that worked for both of you. You were as wet as a virgin, your body yearning for more as Brian abused your g spot. Your sinful moans were muffled by his gloved hand, his other attempting to guide you.

He brought himself close to your ear. “If you wanna get off, you’re gonna have to ride me by yourself mkay? Do that and i’ll play with that pretty clit of yours doll,” He huffed, trying to control his own noises. You nodded yes profusely, trying to concentrate on grinding your hips against his. With his spare hand he found your clit, drawing sloppy circles around it. For a brief moment he was worried about his ‘skills’ not having slept with a woman in years. Whether he was good or bad at it, you didn’t appear to give a shit. You were still a panting mess, your hair sticking to your forehead from sweat.

Your walls clenched tighter around Brian as you felt yourself closer to euphoria, your eyes fluttering shut. With your forehead pressed to his you pawed at his hoodie, grabbing handfuls as your orgasm washed over you. Your sinful noises were muted by Brian’s hand, the muffled sounds music to his ears that he had made you feel that good. Your walls fluttering around him triggered his own orgasm, his cum flooding inside of you. He dropped his hand from your mouth, both of you taking a moment to breathe.

In a moment of true loneliness you leaned against Brian’s shoulder, ignoring the faint smell of dried blood and sweat. Unsurely Brian stroked your hair, trying to remember if that was comforting or not. He licked his dry lips, a bold question on the tip of his tongue.

“You wanna share a cigarette again tomorrow?”

#creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta lemon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta smut #creepypasta #masky and hoody #hoody #proxies #slenderman’s proxies #masky smut #ticci toby smut #ticci toby #slenderverse #slenderman #masky marble hornets #marble hornets #hoody marble hornets

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crushedsweets · 4 months

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How strong is Jack really? What are his abilities?

he's very strong!!! he would absolutely destroy every one of the creeps in a fight (aside from O/S and zalgo). legitimately none of them stand a chance. imagine mortal combat type murders. ok im trolling but seriously he's really strong

he's also just hard to hurt. his skin is so thick/durable, its difficult to stab into him - and even when you do, the black blood/tar seeps out and quickly seals the wound, it's like nothing happened. its POSSIBLE to kill him, but it'd be hard

some abilities include echolocation/super hearing, thermovision, speed... etc. nothing super special/unique

depending on how hungry he is, his nails can turn into claws. not like acrylics, but like... the keratin thickens, surrounds his finger, and grows long/sharp. the keratin breaks off when the hunger subsides, leaving his normal hands/nails. his teeth do something similar, and his jaw can unhinge

everyone is lucky he wants to be a pacifist

#asks

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 9 months

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𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

Sweet Nightmares: When not even Nightmare Dream can chase you off from visiting his realm whenever you wished, he decides to show his eldritch side. In other words: Dream doesn’t understand why you have such free rein within his realm and tries to scare you off. Jokes on him, you’re into it.

Warnings: Dream in Denial, Explicit Language, Reader Messes W/ Dream, I DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS.

To Note: Eldritch!Dream x AFAB!Reader, Mostly Dream at his Wit’s End with Reader, Part of the ’Sweet Nightmares’ Event by @roguelov.

Word Count: ~7.2k

Masterlist | Next

You often wondered what it would be like to swim in the Ocean of Dreams. It often looked dark and uninviting, surely a representation of its true purpose… but that water also looked so beautiful to you. Things in The Dreaming weren’t what they seemed. Sometimes cold was hot, or sweet was spicy, an apple might taste like a peach, even a sunflower you had been happily looking at had turned into a rose. At times you thought the realm was purposefully fucking with you. No. It was fucking with you. So you liked to fuck with it back.

You were fairly sure that the realm adored it when you interacted with its jokes and mischievous nature.

“If you try swimming in the Ocean of Dreams, it’s just gonna spit you back out.” Imber, the dream of rain, spoke from where she sat next to you, basking in the low pressure of the air. It was going to rain soon. You gave her a pointed look, fingers picking at the edge of your shirt.

“You’re being negative, Im,” You stated, making up your mind and pulling your shirt over your head and dropping it to the towel you had been sitting on. Next you wiggled yourself out of the jeans the Dreaming gave you when you had appeared this night. “And I’m curious… like, what is it like?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “Is it like swimming in a regular ocean? Is it salty? Cold? It kind of looks like it’d be freezing… Does it have the same buoyancy as the oceans in the Waking World? Can I drink from it? Are there fish? Like dream fish? That’d be really awesome if there were dream fish…”

“Please, for the love of the Endless realms, do not drink those waters,” Imber exclaimed, wondering what kind of unhinged mortal would wish to swim in those waters let alone drink the Ocean of Dreams! Apparently you. The dream watched as you deposited the rest of your clothes on your towel and trotted over to the dock extending over the darkened water of the Ocean of Dreams. Your toes gripped the edge of the dock, your eyes staring down into the black water. You saw your reflection, nothing else. The water was dark, black even. So mysterious. You wanted to know what lay beneath. Your reflection tilted its head to the side and smiled at you, then it held its hand out, beckoning for you to jump. “Really, you shouldn’t—”

You stepped off the dock.

Dropping into the water, you were surprised to find that it wasn’t cold at all, or in anyway unpleasant. The water felt like it was pillowing your body, gentle and caring. You kicked your way back to the surface and your head popped out of the water. The look on Imber’s face was priceless. It was like the realm had dropped out beneath her and the universe was ending. Then she was exploding on you.

“What do you think you are doing!?” She screeched, waving her hands and desperately wanting to drag you out, but knowing that she could not enter the water. “The Ocean of Dreams is dangerous!” You blinked at her from where you were treading water, not understanding why she was so upset. Literally nothing was happening to you. “Those waters kill!”

“You are being over dramatic,” You replied pleasantly, wishing you had tried this sooner. It really was quite nice. While Imber went off on a tangent about your apparent need to get out of the ocean, you felt something sliding around your ankle. Ignoring what was going on beneath the waves, you gave Imber a frank look. “Really, Im, I’m fi—” You were sharply pulled beneath the surface of the water by your ankle, only having a moment to take in a gasp of air.

Bubbles streamed around your body as you were tugged down for a few disorienting moments, your hands flailing as you righted yourself. Eyes opening, you found that the water didn’t sting. Nice. You looked around for what had pulled you down, and came face to face with a black form that looked remarkably like yourself. Whoa. The mirror of you smiled deviously, and offered her hand. Now, there was no way this truly was your own reflection/shadow, you knew enough about the Dreaming to know they didn’t exist… but what she was, was most likely the Ocean of Dreams herself. Because it was definitely a she. That excited you, so you reached out and took her hand.

You were pulled along and only moments later you were met with an explosion of colors and wonders that left you shocked. The Ocean of Dreams was truly beautiful. As you went, you could see flashes of dreams, some fairytales, other nightmares. All of which were pure unadulterated beautiful creations. Why was the Ocean of Dreams so forbidden?? This was a paradise to you! The Ocean of Dreams glanced back at you and you beamed at her, her echoing grin was but a mere flash before she was dragging you through a field of kelp at a faster pace.

There were these little flashes of light in front of you now, bursting like tiny canons explosions. You were ignorant to the slow build of uncomfortable pressure within your chest, your lungs straining for fresh oxygen. Deeper and deeper you were pulled, each new sight even more beautiful than the last. A medieval dream full of knights, a princess, and a dragon. Another a zombie apocalypse where the zombies were running from the humans. A child winning a Nobel peace prize for curing cancer…

Your grasp upon the Ocean of Dreams slipped, but the being continued to hold you, eager to show you everything. Your mind slipped into a state of in-between and you felt even more weightless than you had before. Soft songs echoed around you, slowly fading in a hush… unlike the peacefulness you had felt slipping under, coming back was rough and jarring.

Water surged up your throat and out of your mouth as you harshly coughed, suddenly finding your body nestled on the sand with a very worried Imber clutching your shivering and jerking body. Worse? Morpheus was on one knee next to you, his eyes blazing mercury while he glared at you in complete and utter rage. You finished heaving up saline water, curtesy of the dream lord’s touch on your neck coaxing the dream liquid from your body. You rasped and coughed, leaning back on your shins with a grimace.

“Have you no self preservation!?” The dream lord thundered at you, physical thunder and lightning manifesting over the Ocean of Dreams. She was upset that your and her fun was interrupted. You blinked at Morpheus as he raged at you, his words cross, irate, warning. Nothing new to you. He never liked that you pushed the boundaries of his realm and rules. Well he never seemed to like you period. “I have half the mind to banish you for such insolence.”

“I think she’s lonely,” You protested smartly. “You should interact with her more.”

“You dare suggest to tell me how to run my realm?” Morpheus thundered yet again, lightning flashed and struck sand not that far from you. “You are out of line.”

“She deserves attention too you know,” You fired back as the dream lord rose to his feet and promptly stormed away, his coat fluttering behind him. Imber threw her arms around around your neck.

“Don’t ever do that again! You would have drowned if Lord Dream hadn’t rescued you!” The dream sobbed. Blinking, you tilted your head to the side in confusion. Why had Morpheus pulled you out? Did he not find your antics most annoying within his realm? You figured that if something ever happened to you, he’d just let you die to rid himself of you. He threatened you enough about banishment… While Imber continued to hug you, you stared at the disturbed waters of the Ocean of Dreams. She was already missing you.

The library was one of your favorite places to visit in the Dreaming. The endless amount of books kept you well entertained when your friends were busy with their work. On this day, you were playing hide and seek with Matthew. Shelves moved around you, shifting from letter to letter and genre… Matthew was currently hunting you down (without cheating) and his calls for you echoed throughout the endless library.

Holding back a snicker, you crawled across the top of the bookshelf you were currently perched on. Lucienne had been monitoring your hide and seek game, amused from watching the shelves cleverly hide you from Matthew’s sights. It was clear that the realm liked you, clear that no matter where you went within the Dreaming, the realm itself came alive as you interacted with it. So she was fine with you playing around in the library, as long as nothing happened to the books.

She was currently watching you army crawl across the tops of towering bookshelves, wondering how you had managed to get yourself there in the first place! No doubt the library had helped you up there… and now it was helping to hide you as well. Chuckling beneath her breath, Lucienne shifted her gaze to Matthew fluttering around, calling out to you with sassy remarks.

“Oh come on!” The raven exclaimed, gliding around a corner, only to come to an empty aisle. “Where are you hiding!? This has been going on for like, ten minutes!!”

“Oh come on, Matty!” You teased him, resting on your stomach for a moment while kicking your feet back. “It’s not like I’m playing tricks on you.” Matthew let out a disgruntled snort and dropped to the floor of the library.

“You totally are!” He complained, stamping his foot on the hardened wood beneath him. “How else would this game still be going on!? Isn’t it my turn to hide??”

“You still haven’t found me though,” You sang with a wide grin. Matthew stomped his little feet some more and flapped his wings, clearly at his wits end.

“Fine! Fine!” He exclaimed in a blustery tone. “You win this one! You win this one now just tell me—”

“What are you doing within the Library, Matthew?” Matthew hopped to attention and you leaned closer to the edge of the bookshelf to see that Morpheus had arrived. Who shit in his wheaties this morning?

“Oh, hi sir,” Matthew chittered nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. Morpheus’ intimidating gaze narrowed. “I was just— you know…”

“Matthew was tending to a dreamer, my lord,” Lucienne spoke up, stepping into the picture. “You tasked him with helping around the realm when away from your side, he is doing as such.”

“And where is this dreamer?” Morpheus pressed, turning back to Matthew.

“Oh, you see, sir, we were playing a game of hide and seek so I don’t actually know…” Matthew trailed off the moment blue started glowing silver. Well, he didn’t know where you were, and his boss was clearly going to go nuclear at any moment.

“I’m up here,” Your voice was soft as it floated down to the three beings, and three sets of eyes lifted to stare at you peeking over the edge of the bookshelf you were currently atop. You could have sworn that Morpheus’ eye twitched. Matthew’s beak dropped open as he let out a screech in outrage.

“You were up there the whole time!?” He loudly exclaimed, flapping his wings and taking to the air to flutter up to where you were sprawled out. You grinned at the raven as he landed beside you.

“Yeah, pretty much,” You confirmed, pushing yourself up onto your forearms. Matthew wanted to be mad at you for doing such a thing, but at the same time, he was hella impressed.

“Okay you got me good on that,” He admitted while a storm began brewing below you. Morpheus was not pleased, not pleased at all. How had you gotten up there? And to play such a silly and menial childs games within the grand library of the Dreaming!? Your audacity appeared to have no bounds!

“What are you doing perched atop these sacred shelves?” Morpheus questioned severely, glaring up at your lounging body. You blinked at him, had he not been listening to what Matthew had just said?

“Playing a game of hide and seek, it was Matty’s turn to seek.”

“Yeah, we were just having some harmless fun,” Matthew piped up, hoping his boss wouldn’t go all nightmare on you. He really liked you and didn’t want you to be scared off let alone banished. Outside the palace thunder boomed, shaking the foundation. Your gaze didn’t stray from Morpheus’ bright silver one as you stared him down.

“Harmless… fun,” The dream lord was almost growling now, you nodded before patting the bookshelf beneath you.

“Oh yeah, hide and seek in this library? It’s like the masters edition. Top notch entertainment.” You happily explained, shifting into a sitting position. “Again might I suggest interacting—”

“Enough!” Morpheus cut you off. “Get down from the bookshelf immediately.”

“Spoil all the fun why don’t you, grumpy pants,” You mumbled, moving to climb down from your perch. But as you were doing as he had asked, the library decided to have a little fun of its own. With a shiver and tremble of wood, you lost your grip and tumbled from the bookshelf. A small yelp left your lips while Lucienne gasped and rushed forwards. She of course wouldn’t be able to help you, or catch you in time to prevent a very painful fall… but Morpheus was right there to catch your dropping body.

He easily caught you, surprising himself because did you not irk him to no end so why would he catch you? You and Morpheus spent a moment staring at each other, surprise plastered on both of your faces. What the hell had just happened? Heat creeped up your neck and you were instantly a flustered mess.

“Dream over, bye,” Just as suddenly as you had dropped into his arms, you were gone, leaving behind a dumbstruck Morpheus. He was frozen where he stood, arms out like he was still holding your body. He had a solid blue screen behind his silver eyes. Lucienne rushed up to her lord in a frazzled state.

“Sir? Sir?” She questioned, trying to get a response from the frozen dream lord. He was slowly rebooting. Matthew fluttered down to a nearby table and cocked his head to the side.

“Do ya think Y/N broke him? I’ve never seen them go all peace out on us before…” Matthew commented as Morpheus’ mind finished rebooting. Rage blistered across Morpheus’ features.

“They dare to undermine the rules of my realm and relieve themself from their own dream!?” Morpheus hissed out, finally coming to his senses on what had just happened. You had fallen from the top of the book shelf, he had caught you, and then you had woken yourself up! That was not an ability any regular dreamer should have and you were clearly displaying an unusual source of power.

“Sir, I believe that they are simply trying to enjoy the realm to the fullest—” The glow within Morpheus’ eyes had Lucienne cutting her words off and she watched as he angrily stormed away. Matthew exchanged looks with the librarian.

“So… am I just over thinking it or are they…”

“It would be in your best interest to stay out of their business, Matthew,” Lucienne adjusted her glasses and busied herself. This was not something she was going to stick her nose in unless absolutely necessary.

“If I get trapped in that stupid hour glass you better break me out,” You muttered to Concinō. Your dream friend twitched the corner of his mouth, making the whiskers of his current form, move ever so slightly. He was totally taking pleasure in this, you just knew it. At the start of your night, you’d come across Concinō, the dream of singing harmoniously… and somehow, he had talked you into assisting him with a dream of his. Little did you know that you would end up playing a Disney princess.

Exciting and fun, but you were acutely aware of what happened in Aladdin, and weren’t exactly fond of the idea that Jafar would be setting his sights on you. Memories of being scared as the hourglass full of sand slowly buried Jasmine alive still haunted you, even into adulthood. Not even the fine cloth draped upon your body and jewels enhancing your natural beauty could distract you from that worry.

“You think I will allow any harm to befall you?”

“We are in a dream, Concinō,” You muttered at him beneath your breath. “The psychological mind fuckery I deal with on a nightly basis is getting a bit too much.”

“Which is why I thought to invite you, this is a little girl’s dream, it is not meant to be a nightmare.” You gave Concinō a blank stare for a moment before your ‘father’ came bustling in… in all his short and round gloriousness. It was a nearly comical sight to you and that made you giggle a little and smile. You set down the hairbrush you had been absentmindedly running through Jasmine’s long hair and twisted in your seat.

“Father,” You greeted happily, following along with the script. “I had the most wonderful time,” The little girl watching the dream play out in the corner of Jasmine’s large bedroom giggled and pressed her hands against her little mouth. “I’m so happy!”

“You should be, Jasmine,” Jasmine’s father replied, his eyes glowing an eery red. Jafar had already gotten to him. “I have chosen a husband for you.” The remaining door to your room boomed open and the long faced Jafar appeared, striding towards you with a regal yet smug bird perched on his shoulder.

“You’re speechless, I see. A fine quality in a wife.” Jafar said, taking your hand. You were momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of this dude, but them remembered you had a part to play and jerked back.

“I will never marry you,” You retorted as the little girl pipped up.

“Yeah! She’s never gonna marry a creep like you. You’re mean!” You nearly laughed at her comment but stayed in character. From behind you, Concinō let out a rumble from his chest in warning.

“Father I choose Prince Ali.”

“Prince Ali left,” Jafar retorted smugly.

“Better check your crystal ball again, Jafar,” A voice spoke from behind you. You whirled around in a swirl of blue skirts and proceeded to gawk at the dream that had formed Prince Ali. You wouldn’t mind being swept off your feet by him. The bird on Jafar’s shoulder squawked angrily as Prince Ali stomped up to you, eyes ablaze.

“Tell them the truth, Jafar. You tried to have me killed.” You let out a dramatic gasp, which the little girl did as well. Honestly her reactions were making this whole experience worth the trouble…

“What?” Jafar exclaimed. “Ridiculous nonsense, Your Highness. He’s obviously lying.”

“Obviously… lying…” Jasmine’s father mumbled, hypnotized by the snake scepter. You stepped in front of him and tried to shake the hypnotism from this mind.

“Father, what is wrong with you!?” Aladdin jumped forwards and snatched the snake scepter.

“I know what’s wrong!” He shouted before smashing the head of the snake on the floor. It broke and Jasmine’s father gasped.

“Oh, my!”

“Your Highness, Jafar’s been controlling you with this.” Aladdin continued, holding out the scepter.

“What?” He stammered. “Jafar? You, you traitor!”

“Get him! Lock him up!” The little girl cheered on. So the guards were called and were slowly dragging him off, but just as soon as Jafar has waltzed into the room, he disappeared in a cloud of red smoke.

“Oh no,” You murmured to yourself as Aladdin stepped up to you and Jasmine’s father began rambling. You let him wrap his arms around your body, and stared into his eyes before muttering at him. “I’m not kissing you.”

A sparkle appeared and his smile widened.

“I’m pretty sure Concinō would bite my head off if I tried,” The dream replied. “Besides, I’m just a side character in this dream.”

That made you chuckle as the dream in question eyed you both scrupulously. Concinō was in charge of this dream, in charge of making the little girl’s dreaming thoughts reality for this night. You had little control over what was going to happen next. Jasmine’s father dragged Aladdin off, talking excitedly about marriage plans and you went to slump down on a sofa with an exasperated sigh.

When it came time for Jafar’s takeover, you hadn’t considered how terrifying it might be to actually experience what Jasmine went through. You didn’t appreciate the crimson outfit you had been forced into, and you certainly didn’t appreciate being in chains at Jafar’s side. You had already thrown wine at the idiot sorcerer, told him off (much to the little girls egging on, she found it very entertaining), and even stomped on his foot.

He wasn’t happy with you.

You had done your best to distract the sorcerer after he had wished for you to fall in love with him. Because hello, one of the big no no’s of Genie magic was no love spells. Jafar didn’t know that yet thankfully, so you were holding his attention while Aladdin snuck in and slowly made his way over to the magic lamp.

“What street rat?” You cooed, delicately brushing your fingers along Jafar’s face. You were never doing this again. But your distraction was doomed to fail and Jafar caught sight of Aladdin in the reflection of the tiara you wore and promptly jerked around to address him. You lurched in front of him and tried to grab the scepter. Fighting against him was a loosing battle and you were flung backwards onto your rump which made you moan.

“Get the lamp!” Aladdin called from where he had taken your place in struggling for the scepter. You scrambled on your hands and knees, lurching up and scurrying over to the throne where the lamp was resting.

“Ah, ah, ah, Princess!” Jafar called, flinging Aladdin to the side. “Your time is up!” He flicked his scepter at you and you felt your body getting thrown back. You had to close your eyes so you didn’t get sick, but the topsy turvy feeling finally dissipated. Opening your eyes, you stared at a wall of glass before panicking and slapping your hands against the glass of the giant hourglass you were stuck in. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. You had hoped the little girl would deviate from the whole ‘Jasmine almost dies in the hour glass suffocated from sand’ plot. Apparently the little dreamer was a purist.

Sand poured on your head from overhead and you jerked in place, trying to avoid the stream. You slammed your fists harder against the glass, hoping you could break it, you had been able to manipulate some dreams before. But you had no such luck, the glass remained strong and the sand was quickly up to your waist. While Aladdin was tricking afar into wishing to be a Genie, you raked your nails across the glass and desperately searched for the now pint sized Concinō. He was gone, dismissed by a very irate Morpheus who had sensed your meddling yet again.

The dream darkened around you and the disney palace warped. Clawing the sand in front of you, you barely saw Jafar’s figure standing in front of the glass. He looked different now, taller, darker, more menacing. A few gasps for air departed your lips as you stared the irate Morpheus in the eyes. Then sand completely covered you. You panicked against the coarse material, feeling it scrape against your skin and impede your ability to breathe.

The glass holding you trapped disappeared within the hourglass. You fell, sprawling in front of a livid Nightmare Morpheus in a tumble of red fabric and sand. Coughing for a few moments because it seemed like you had breathed in several particles of sand, you slowly lifted your head.

You caught glowing mercury eyes, first glaring at you for being in the dream in the first. The complete and utter audacity! You were so meddlesome! But then Morpheus took in what you were wearing and his mind went blank. Crimson fabric covered your curves, and jewels dotted your throat and head, you looked every bit of the part you had been playing. Beautiful princess trapped in an hourglass filling with sand. It was an… enviable sight and that disturbed the Endless, certainly even more when sand slipped from your shoulders as you shifted in place. It had the luxury of caressing your beauty, beauty he had been unconsciously admiring. Now he wanted you… a… deplorable thought… surely… he would never… absolutely not… you were a pest… a pest he disliked… greatly… he didn’t like you… not one bit…

“Jafar?” A squeaky voice questioned, you glanced to your right to see the little girl confused. Understandable, this was supposed to be a dream, but now it was a nightmare. “You’re supposed to be defeated and stuck in a lamp.” Morpheus didn’t even spare her a glance.

“This dream… is over,” He spoke through gritted teeth. Sand once again spun around you, withdrawing you from the Dreaming and causing you to jerk awake in bed. You breathed heavily, your heart racing. Did he just try and scare you off with a nightmare?

“Dick move, Morpheus, dick move, it was her dream not yours,” You muttered, rolling onto your side. “It’s gonna take more than a nightmare to chase me off.” You closed your eyes and tried to get back to sleep. The only thing Morpheus managed to do was rescue you from a situation that had scared you. Being trapped in that hourglass was scarier than Nightmare Morpheus.

You were lounging with a book in your lap on what should have been a very uncomfortable place to sit… but the Dreaming of course would not have you sitting on something so uncomfortable and had softened the seat of Morpheus’ throne for you. That made his throne a very nice place to sit and read… which you were doing happily until Matthew’s call rang throughout the large throne room. You purposefully kept your eyes trained on the book in your hands, nonchalantly reading your passage.

The moment Morpheus set his eyes upon his throne, and saw you sitting there, he stopped short and took a moment to think. Surely you wouldn’t be this insolent! But there you were, looking quite comfortable and entirely at home. And quite gorgeous— He cleared that daring through from his mind and strode forward, a sour expression on his face.

“Your insolence appears to have no bounds,” He growled at you, rage quickly surfacing once more. You’d been pressing on his nerves, moving onto the next without fail and building his frustration. “Remove yourself at once.”

You eyed him, knowing that this was most likely really irritating him… which was your plan in the first place. Not one dream nor nightmare thought you’d actually sit on Morpheus’ throne. So you had strolled on up to the chair and planted your bottom on it. Now you were watching Morpheus’ patience run thin, worn down by your constant antics within his realm. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you liked it when he showed the Nightmare side of him. The endless was getting very frustrated that he couldn’t scare you off.

You chose not to push him and just smiled pleasantly and winked yourself out of the Dreaming. The Dreaming refused to change Morpheus’ throne back to its original state for three weeks.

You hadn’t told anyone what your plan was, you just executed it. Morpheus was supposed to be gone from the realm for several days and nights, which gave you the perfect window to pull off your next prank. You’d spent the better part of this visit moving every piece of furniture you could find… an inch over from where it usual was. It wouldn’t be obvious and to most eyes, everything would look normal. But not Morpheus. He was highly sensitive to his realm, could detect every minute change down to a single weed. But he wasn’t in the realm to feel the changes you made directly, so you could get away with the movements without him knowing.

When he returned, everything would look the same, but feel the same? No. And you relished watching him squirm on the inside trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with his realm. He was so unflappable at times, stoic and unchanging. Kind of like a marble statue… no, you were sure that a marble statue would show more emotions than Morpheus. Ignoring his angry, glowy eyes he gave you when pissed off. You wondered what he would look like it he smiled for once (something that you knew would never happen), you also wondered what his cosmic form looked like. Lucienne had once told you that while he did have an anthropomorphic form, it was only one form he had.

He was already a stunningly beautiful creature as a mortal, you wondered what his non-human form looked like. Would he even look remotely humanlike? Or would he be all wonky and chaotic, a blob of cosmic energy with no real distinguishable form to be seen.

“Hmm, squishy,” You commented to yourself as you struggled to move his throne exactly an inch to the left. “I wonder what he’d feel like to sleep on if he was like that?”

“What’re you doing?” You jumped in place before relaxing and looking at Matthew.

“Hi Matty,” you greeted before tilting your head. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were with Morpheus?”

“He sent me to check on you because he thinks you’re gonna mess with something while he’s gone.” You bit your lip to stop a bout of laughter that wanted to come up and Matthew hopped forwards, examining you a little closer. “You aren’t… messing with anything right?”

“Course not, absolutely wouldn’t while he’s out, why would he think of such a thing?” You blurted out. Matthew instantly knew you were up to something, and looked closer.

“Okay… why are you touching his throne? He got real mad about that after your last prank. Could’ve sworn the throne actually sulked for a few weeks…” Matthew muttered to himself, immediately deciding that he wanted no part in whatever shenanigan you were up to this time. His boss was getting really wound up by you and ready to implode. Matthew would rather watch this event from the sidelines than be in the midst of it.

“Just looking at the carvings,” You answered, patting the cold marble beneath your fingers. “I’m also wondering what he was thinking of when he made it given the decorations… like how does he even figure that shit out in his head? Or is it like, automatic? Snap fingers and bam a-la-throne?”

“I… have absolutely no idea,” Matthew replied, his own mind now wondering how Morpheus had designed everything. “I don’t know how any of this Endless magic shit works, ya know?”

“It’s pretty awesome though,” You said while standing up and wiping your hands on your jeans. It was moved just enough. Perfect. Now you just had to wait for Morpheus to get back. While Matthew flew back to give Morpheus a report that you weren’t messing with his realm, you whistled while making your way to the library to find something to read.

Morpheus had gotten so angry at your little stunt (that everyone in the dreaming thought was hilarious) that he had gone all Nightmare on you. Like blazing cosmos eyes, enormous figure, thunder and lightning. Even the palace had trembled. Lucienne had been frightened for you, thinking that perhaps you had finally pushed the Endless one prank too far… only Morpheus had just raged at you while you giggled deviously. Then you had just skittered your way out of the throne room leaving the rather irate Endless to fume. So Lucienne finally decided to intervene.

“Sir, if I may,” She spoke softly, still feeling the echoing rumbles of the realm trembling from Morpheus’ anger. Mercury eyes landed on his trusted librarian.

“What is it, Lucienne? Give me one good reason why I should not have them banished from this realm for all eternity.” The librarian shifted from one foot to the other.

“Sir, I do not believe that you truly dislike having them around.” Morpheus glared at her for the mere insinuation that he liked having you of all creatures around his realm. “You have given many threats of banishment, but have yet to follow through with your words…”

“And why do you believe that is?” Morpheus snapped out, his fingers digging into the armrests of his throne (which he had promptly returned to its rightful place an inch to the right).

“I believe, that perhaps, you have come to enjoy their visits?” Lucienne offered, steeling herself for the blow up that was surely to come. “And might I even add, that you might have come to…” She paused, searching for the correct words to say without getting herself sent to the darkness. “…care for them. Do you not contemplate their arrival within the realm every night before they do so?”

Morpheus was insulted that his library would suggest such a thing and his eyes certainly blazed silver.

“You dare suggest that I have formed feelings for such an insolent mortal!?” His voice came out in a hiss. “They are nothing but a nuisance to me and I wish for them to leave and never come back!”

Lucienne couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“But sir, if you truly wished for that, would you not have already done so?” The librarian bravely spoke. “In order to deal with such… feelings, accordingly, you should decide upon the decision to banish them or not.”

Morpheus hadn’t made a decision on what to do with you. No, he had decided to show you his final form. His true form. A form that would surely scare you off and he’d never had to deal with your incessant pranks, never have to see you walking his halls never, never have to be tempted by your smiles and laughter. You were impervious to many a thing, but he doubted you wouldn’t be scared of his ultimate cosmic form. He didn’t really have a physical body in the anthropomorphic sense, he was just a mass of Endless that was abstractly shaped like his mortal self. Surely you’d be terrified and the temptation that had driving him to the brink of insanity would finally be gone.

But his plan to scare you by showing a side of him that was rarely shown had to be put on hold when his sibling decided to pay a visit. Of all siblings, it had to be Desire. They were still on thin ice with their last trickery that had cost the Dreaming 106 years, what reason did they have to want to visit now? But nonetheless, he relented simply for the sake of keeping an eye on them. Morpheus relented to their wish to wander throughout his realm, but he had every dream and nightmare on alert and several ravens flying overhead should anything go amiss.

When he picked up that you had entered his realm, he had dismissed your presence. He would have to deal with you on the morrow, he was far too busy with his realm at the moment to consider dealing with you and your jokes. Luckily for him, you weren’t planning on pulling off any pranks on this visit. He didn’t, however, consider what would happen should you cross paths with his sibling. No, you were just wandering around the palace gardens smelling different flowers and appreciating the scents and varieties. You had already received a flower from a tulip plant that had kindly offered you the single flower. Everywhere you went, the Dreaming came alive.

“I didn’t expect a dreamer to be so close to the palace,” A smooth voice called, drawing you from your mindless thoughts. Turning your head, you stopped in your tracks when you saw one of the most beautiful beings you had ever seen. Caught between masculine and feminine, they had pale hair and vibrant gold eyes… but you were distracted by the mischievous air that surrounded them. “My brother usually keeps the dreamers away from his more… intimate, of places.”

“Oh, so… I kind of just do what I want here,” You explained, wondering how many siblings Morpheus had. Then you leaned over and ran your fingers over a hydrangea bush. It stretched its leaves towards your touch. “He doesn’t stop me or anything, usually just gives me the glowy eyes, and huffs and puffs at my apparent audacity.”

Desire chuckled softly, amusement sparkling within their incredible golden eyes.

“Oh aren’t you an unusual one,” They mused, moving closer to where you stood. Gold examined every millimeter of your body, there was nothing special about you, clearly… but something made Dream latch onto you. “I can see why he would be intrigued.”

“Who says he’s intrigued?” You questioned, twisting your head to look at them with a raised eyebrow. “Do you know the number of times I’ve been threatened with banishment?”

“Like he would ever find it in his cold, cold, heart to banish a gem like you,” Desire cooed, not helping themself and reaching up to touch your face. They let their finger follow the curve of your jaw. “You’re far too precious.”

“I don’t know about that,” You disagreed, eyes wandering over their features. “Can I ask for your name? Morpheus doesn’t talk about his family, or talk to me at all if he has to…”

“I’m Desire,” Desire purred, eyes thinking with mischief and wonder. There were so many delicious things they could do with you. Ah. That would explain a lot.

“It’s nice to meet you Desire,” You replied happily. “I haven’t learned much about you or the other Endless…

“Hmm, it doesn’t surprise me,” Desire replied, taking a section of your hair between their impeccably manicured fingers. “Dream has always been very hush hush about us, it’s quite saddening actually…”

Something in you told you that it was, in fact, not saddening, to Desire and they were only looking to stir shit up. You were equipped in that category.

“Oh,” You sounded, you’re smiling fading despite your efforts to keep your face straight. You’d never been good at hiding your true emotions. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me, he’s kind of private isn’t he? I don’t blame him for that.” Golden eyes glimmered at you in scrutiny. You were an unusually impervious mortal, usually your kind would be falling at their feet by now in reverence. So they stepped closer and turned on the charm and desire, trying to wrap you up within their twisted influence. Surely you would make for a delicious game.

“Oh? But you are a guest within his realm,” Desire purred, dropping your hair to caress your cheek. While their teasing continued, Morpheus was made aware of his siblings proximity to you, his latest irking problem… and the very thin band of patience you’d been testing the constraints of for the last few months finally began to quiver. Disappearing from this throne room, Morpheus appeared in his garden and fixed his eyes on you and his sibling. Surely they were filling you with more noxious ideas to plague the Dreaming.

“Desire, that is enough,” Morpheus growled, the feet beneath your feet shaking. “Your meddling has gone far enough, leave,” Desire pouted and Nightmare Dream came out, his patience snapping like a violin string. You took a step back, feeling the ground beneath your feet trembling and shaking. Wow, Morpheus was sure getting worked up. You wondered if Desire was going to push his buttons further, but the Endless just smirked and winked out of the Dreaming.

“I think that was a little rude of you,” You commented, only to have the angry Dream Lord round on you and his eyes to brighten in anger almost to the point where you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Rude!? Are you that desperate to irate me that must conspire with my sibling!??” Lightning cracked across the suddenly darkened sky. You blinked and scrunched your nose.

“What? No,” You replied in confusion. Since when had you purposefully annoyed him? All you wanted to do was have fun and explore the Dreaming, and have Morpheus interact with it more because clearly she was missing her lord. You never had any intention of purposefully irritating Morpheus. “I just wanted to—”

“My realm is not yours to do what you wish with mortal,” Morpheus hissed at you, his skin rippling with power. “And for you to conspire with Desire!?”

Your eyes flashed in anger and your hackles bristled.

“I was most certainly not—” Before you even finished your statement the air around you rippled and you felt like you were stuck in a hurricane. Well someone had certainly lost their temper, but you hadn’t seen him lose it like this. A few seconds later you felt yourself getting tossed and turned in place, the ground having long since disappeared from your feet. Flopping around, your arms cartwheeled until you managed to keep yourself stable and you worked the courage up to open your eyes. What the hell…?

In front of you was a swirling mass of cosmos, you could barely make out somewhat of a humanoid shape but it most certainly wasn’t a human. Your body dropped though the air and you flailed yet again before being caught but a shadowy hand.

“You are the bane of my existence with your incessant comings and goings, why do you not act like the rest of your kind!?” Oh. Holy shit. That was Morpheus?? You were rendered speechless, gawking at the inhumane mass of Endless energy. Even now, with Morpheus displaying his worst form, you were still not cowering in fear! “What must I do to rid myself of the irritation you cause me?”

“You are so beautiful,” You whispered, barely able to form any further thoughts as the beauty of the cosmic being in front of you filled your mind. The next few seconds stretched into what felt like years, your words curling and slipping around Morpheus’ monstrous being. You are so beautiful.

Your surroundings trembled and shook, and that topsy turvy feeling returned. Then you found yourself stretched out on a bed with a very bewildered and confused (not to mention worked up) Endless above you. Your eyelashes fluttered as Morpheus grasped your chin in a hard grip. You could feel the pent up energy he was barely holding back.

“You are the most vexing, troubling, meddlesome mortal I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.” Morpheus hissed in your face, his nose practically touching yours. Well excuse me! You didn’t exactly ask to meet him either! Your eyes flared with fire and you barked back, poking your finger into his chest.

“Well you are the most hard headed, egotistical, close minded—” Morpheus had-had enough of your lip and insolence, and silenced you the only way his tumultuous mind could think of: by kissing you.

Date Published: 8/11/23

Last Edit: 8/11/23

Masterlist | Next

#dream the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #dream of the endless #morpheus #lord morpheus #the sandman #dream the endless #the sandman netflix

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azunshi · 8 months

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need an au of king of the fae bingge and mortal shen yuan. just shen yuan unwittingly wifebeaming bingge without realizing who he is and thinking that thats the end of that handsome stranger he met in the woods only to wake up one day to find that there are faeries outside his house announcing that theyre here to escort him to his new home in the court of their king and he's like "... what king ... what new home ... what the fuck is going on .... why are yall trying to dress me up pretty for this fae king who the fuck is he"

shen yuan being nervous once he finds out that bingge wants him as his wife bc "... should i break it to him that im a man or does he want to find out himself? bc i think he really /should/ know that im, yknow, a man to avoid any disappointment on the wedding night?"

he tells bingge the truth while the king is courting him and, to his shock, bingge's reaction is "... and why should that deter me from taking you as my bride?"

shen yuan being bewildered that bingge stubbornly wants him when he has so many other beauties in the court. "my lord, you're spoiled for choice here! look at all these lovely faerie ladies around you!! don't you think they'd make better, more fitting, partners?" he says, gesturing at them but he turns to find that bingge's eyes are on him, and only him

"the only one i'll ever need is you, my beloved."

also smth unhinged and horny thing that i just wanted to add under the cut but

i think it'd be funny if shen yuan accidentally wifebeams the entire faerie court too and now EVERYONE wants to fuck him also they should have a faerie orgy where shen yuan is the court's hole. he gets his holes stuffed with faerie cream bc thats what he deserves

#svsss #shen yuan #luo binghe #luo bingge #binggeyuan #bingyuan #azu's au ideas #crossposted from twitter

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lyss-sketchbox · 4 months

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I've noticed a Zhongli/Childe shipper to Neuvillette/Wriothesley shipper pipeline (I'm on it as well), so im curious

Thoughts on the Liuyen dragon and his unhinged mortal?

Umm uhhh ummmmmm idk what ur talking about <- very much part of the pipeline

Fr tho i was a zhongchi shipper, still kinda am but its more of a 'i acknowledge they exist but theyre cute' now.

I mean they almost got it all. Immortal x mortal, a facking dragon x abyss tainted human, insane x chill. Childe definitely being the one bringing new suprises to zhonglis life while zhongli bringing stability or some sort of grounding humanity to childes life. I love their dynamic alot, i just love ships where they can bring out everything out of each other and still be able to love and care.

What makes me like wriolette above zhongchi is that they just lacked this feeling of maturity and finality wriolette has, idk if that makes sense. But childe is still a walking red flag going around the world as a harbinger PLUS his abyss relations, he still got 101 problems to deal with. Also their ingame relations are relatively new since childe probably has only been in liyue for a few months tops. Wriolette has history, not just the kid wrio being judged part but theyve been coworkers for a long time that neuvi considered them personal. Also theyre both like... the de facto ruler of both ends of fontaines whole world so their life is probably very stable jdjdnnsns

I get that the instability and conflict is what makes zhongchi such a great ship. But i guess right now its a lil refreshing to me to see a genuinely good relation (not just talking about their ship) where it feels like we are seeing them in the end of a journey, theyve dealt with everything so now theyre reaping their peaceful reward.

Does that make sense? Idk lmao tldr zhongchi cool but old men yaoi 👍

#fyi i use to religiously reload the zhongchi tag in ao3 #so im very much a zhongchi shipper 👍#but happy old men my beloved #lyssten to my rambles

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ludinusdaleth · 1 month

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im honestly very happy ira is one of if not the most beloved npc of campaign 3. and while i know most of his surface level appeal is the sheer unhinged faeishness of him, i think it fundamentally comes down to ira, despite his most un-human everything, being the most Man in his struggles as a fae can get.

as early as his intro he was set apart by past established fae, by working on technology, wearing a tattered suit. he was kicked out of the courts and the vanguard after they asked him to create their war weapons. he is a veteran of a mortal war, and got no accolades. he has spent 3 decades living in caves, taking the shittiest jobs imagineable just to get by, even torturing folk for his shit bosses again (the treshi job) because cash is cash. he knows folk will Just Die if they cant keep up and accepts it bluntly. his voice creaks with age & experience in the dust. it is easy to pin his pettiness & need for vengeance solely on the intensity of a fae til you see that he approaches even those goals with the rusty, tired caution of a man who was a spy, who understands the gravity of war, whose bosses have screwed him over so badly they made he, the nightmare king, scared.

he is a victim of the greed of the rich, easily isolated and made a scapegoat as a sole evil by them. he has lived a life with absolutely no lavish design. even artagan, whom i love with all my heart and find deep relateability in, is so disconnected with mortality at first, in large part because he was a literal fae lord. when vox machina adjusted the leylines to let artagan into exandria, ira was locked out of his home at the same time. ira has lived in the grime of the worst the fae courts and humanity has to offer, wanting to make a mark but always being a pawn hurt by a grand design. and so, while he clearly & obviously knows the difference between mortal & fae, he also knows there's really no defined line between who can hurt you worse... and how it shapes you. does your callousness begin with your fae nature, with everyone deeming you a monstrosity, or with your experience at the bottom rung? it all ends the same, regardless. i think it is fascinating to see the classism & even capitalism choking exandria and its sister realms, and ira is so fascinating because he is the primary example we have of that happening to a fae, and we get to see how that has gruffly shaped someone who could have been as utterly unphased & whimsical as a flower in the breeze.

#i dont want to Vague Chetney but i honestly think ira handles the themes in chetneys story more & better #chet vaguely covers themes of industrialisation but thats mostly behind him save the oltgar episode #ira is SEEPED in what his bosses did to him #it's one thing to see chet be funnily veangeful at his past coworkers and it's another to see *the nightmare king* freeze up seeing zathuda #once again this isnt an anti chetney post obviously but like wow. last episode really floored me on the nuance of how ira feels #and every arc with him has dealt with his own monstrosity vs what the world has taught him & forced him to do #ira wendagoth #critical role #cr spoilers #campaign 3 #critical role meta #fae #long post #classism

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mikashisus · 3 months

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Arsonist’s Lullaby

“you got a taste for blood when you were licking your own wounds”

summary: You had won your Games at the mere age of fourteen. The days of the arena still haunt your memories, even years after it all had happened.

Now, you find yourself back in the arena, fighting for your life a second time as you struggle to grasp the reality you’re living in.

pairing: genshin x fem!reader

content warnings: lots of blood and gore, heavy angst, character death, panic attacks, ptsd, su!cidal thoughts, su!cide attempts, feral behavior, hallucinations, hospitals, alcohol and drug use

other disclaimers: genshin hunger games au, mc is known to be unhinged bc of trauma, xiao & lumine are katniss & peeta here, mentor venti, a few andrius mentions, fluff and hurt/comfort

ch.1 wc: 4.9k

author’s notes: y’all gonna hate me once this fic ends, cause im killing off a lot of the characters. im sorry in advance.

it took me so long to decide who to include in this fic & who would be part of what district. i included a few of my ocs in here too!

i adore the relationship i created between venti and the mc. it’s literally just father daughter dynamic, but venti is also the mc’s safe space. he understands her so well and knows exactly how to calm her down when she has outbursts.

i couldn’t decide on a singular love interest, so there’s multiple. most of them will die though (sorry not sorry).

plot follows catching fire and mockingjay! there are a few mentions of previous events just for plot purposes.

cross-posted on ao3!

CHAPTER I: silent brewing of a storm

This victor party could’ve been way better than it was. The drinks were bitter, the food was bland, and the outfits were way more extravagant than you would’ve liked.

It almost made you sick thinking about it. You downed another glass of beer and hoped with all your might that you’d get so blasted that you couldn’t feel any nerve in your body.

This was all for show: the parties, the dresses, the accessories… all of it. You hated it here in the capitol where all eyes were on you. You wanted so badly to go back to your home in district seven, to fall onto your couch and cuddle your cat close to your chest as you cried and prayed that you wouldn’t have to spend another day here in the capitol— that you could live the rest of your life peacefully.

You knew that was an empty dream.

Grabbing yet another glass to drown your sorrows, a hand pulled it from your grasp just as the rim was about to meet your parted lips.

“I think that’s enough alcohol for one night, huh wolfie? I’m surprised they let you off the leash.”

That voice. A headache began to pound against your skull. Of course your mortal enemy had to come and ruin your already sour night.

“Go away, Ajax.” His name felt like a burden on your lips. Upon hearing your slurred words, he frowned.

“Now now, if I let you go on your own, you’d drink the last of the capitol’s reserves. You’d finally catch up to Venti,” he joked, taking a sip from the glass he had snatched from you. His face twisted in disgust. “Gross. What is this?”

You rolled your eyes. “Beer.”

Ajax made a disgusted noise as he placed the glass on the table you were leaning against. “How can you stand that stuff?” he asked, watching as you shrugged. “Does that alcoholic mentor of yours have you addicted now?”

Venti was your mentor— a former victor, and a man who had won his games at the age of twelve; the first year his name was put in. He was the youngest victor in history, which naturally gave him a surplus of popularity within the capitol. Now, he was well into his early thirties, yet his youthful glow still lingered. He didn’t look a day over sixteen.

How? That was the world’s greatest mystery.

Scanning the room, you found him passed out on one of the tables, a wine bottle still clutched tightly in his limp hand that hung off the side of the table. His cape and vest were long gone, discarded elsewhere in the room as he was left only in his corset, dress shirt, and dress pants.

You awkwardly turned away from the sight. When he was mentoring you, it had been hard to get him to be serious. when he was serious, he was the best mentor the capitol had ever seen.

He was way better than Ajax’s mentor, that was for sure. You had only met Skirk once, and in those five seconds, she had completely blasted your self confidence to bits. Needless to say, you prayed on her downfall after that.

“Nonsense,” you spoke, your voice hoarse. “Venti could drink the entire nation’s supplies in one gulp if he could. Drain the entire capitol’s wine industry to the ground.”

Ajax snickered into his glass of red wine before taking a more lengthy sip. He sighed in relief afterwards and handed the empty glass to a nearby waiter. “Can’t argue with that. Hey, how ‘bout we get out of here, huh?”

You sent him a teasing look. “You sure you wanna get involved with me? According to Andrius, I’m dangerous.” You grabbed a glass full of beer and chugged it down before making your way over to Venti.

It was true. Andrius, an older man who had been Venti’s mentor for his games, had an impeccable intuition. As soon as he had laid eyes on you in the capitol, he didn’t hesitate to tell you and Venti that you would be incredibly dangerous if you ended up winning your games. Except… there was no “if” when he told you.

Confidently, he stated in a rough voice,

“You will be so dangerous that even the capitol won’t be able to control you.”

Venti had told you that Andrius told him the exact same thing before he entered his games. You later found out that Decarabian, the man who had mentored Andrius and was now long gone, said the exact same thing to Andrius.

You guessed it was tradition for mentors in your district to tell their tributes that. You didn’t yet realize how much weight that statement held.

Ajax followed you, chuckling all the while. “Yeah, I’m well aware. I saw your games. I know you killed eight people at once with an axe and a net. I also know you went batshit crazy after returning from your games. What was the exact word the capitol used? Ah yes, feral.”

You sent him a glare before you lugged Venti off of the table. He pulled the table sheet with him, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You winced at the sound and slapped him over the head with flowers that were previously in a nearby vase. The man startled, babbling on about beer as he began to wake.

“Leave, Ajax— Venti! Get up, you fucking embarrassment! Everyone in the room is staring at us!”

They really weren’t, but you were so used to eyes being on you, that you had a permanent paranoia. You grabbed Venti’s arm and attempted to pull him off the floor. He hiccuped as he stumbled, his half lidded eyes staring at you as you draped one of his arms around your shoulder.

He smiled when he realized it was you. “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite victor! Can I have another beer?”

“No.” You didn’t bother saying goodbye to Ajax as you led Venti towards the exit. “But you can have water when we get back.”

Venti grumbled, only to brighten up again at the sight of a certain white haired gentleman. He waved happily, “Kazuha! Hello!”

Venti hadn’t mentored Kazuha, but they were closely acquainted because Venti was always fussing over you like a mother hen. It was quite adorable that he was so protective over you, but it also felt like he was smothering you at times.

You smiled softly as you made eye contact with Kazuha. You and Kazuha had back to back games. After yours, the capitol considered putting you down like a dog because of how feral you had gotten. However, after your outbursts had slowed down and gotten more under control, they just barely allowed you to live.

If it weren’t for Venti and Andrius advocating for your cause, you most likely would’ve died.

Kazuha’s games were a year after yours. Venti came to you with the idea of mentoring Kazuha shortly after you had started calming down from your trauma. The memories you had wouldn’t go away that quickly, but at least you were learning to cope in a healthy way.

You didn’t like the idea of being a mentor at first, especially since you were so young. You didn’t know the first thing about being a mentor, and you weren’t very good at talking to other people. Venti encouraged you to try, and he co-mentored Kazuha with you since you were so uncooperative.

But because he wasn’t assigned as an official mentor for Kazuha, there were certain times where he couldn’t help you with the right words to say or tell you how to comfort Kazuha. You were on your own, and you eventually got the hang of mentoring, even if you still weren’t the best at communicating with others.

You were always thankful for Kazuha’s patience with you. Not once did he yell at you or tell you that you were doing a shit job. Not once did he push you away or insult you behind your back. Not once did he criticize you or laugh when you relapsed because something triggered you. Instead, he was calm. His presence was comforting, and he always knew what to say to you. He was a good listener, and he was patient. He never crossed any boundaries and he was always kindhearted, even if the games had messed him up the same way they did to you.

Kazuha was the only tribute you mentored, and also your favorite. You understood why Venti acted the way he did with you. It was because he felt the same way towards you, even if you caused way more trouble for him than Kazuha did for you.

The boy in front of you smiled gently as he held your gaze, crimson eyes softening at the sight of you. “Do you want help?”

You snapped out of your daze and shook your head. “It’s okay, but thank you. I got him. He’s my responsibility after all.” You chuckled softly.

Kazuha nodded, though you knew he didn’t believe that you could handle this on your own. After all, you looked just about ready to punch Venti in the face because he kept tugging on your arm. You absolutely despised being touched, but you tried not to mind it when it came to Venti.

You knew his love language was physical touch, and so you were smothered in hugs and forehead kisses before your games. However, after your games, you’d lash out at the mere ghost of a touch on your skin. That resulted in more than a few doctors being killed.

Right now, you were fighting off every voice in your head that was screaming “danger” and tried to focus on just getting Venti back to his room in the hotel you two were staying in.

Kazuha stepped forward, “Are you sure? I don’t mind helping—“

Something in you snapped as you squeezed your eyes shut and shouted, “I have him! I said I’m okay!” You panted heavily as your chest heaved. When you opened your eyes, you were surprised to see that Kazuha was still standing so close to you.

Instead of running away like anyone else would’ve done, he simply smiled warmly at you— sweet and full of kindness. “Okay. At least allow me to go with you just in case.”

A little shaken up, you nodded. Your hands trembled as you continued to lead Venti out of the party venue and outside. Kazuha followed, keeping a reasonable distance from you.

After you safely got Venti into his hotel room, you sighed heavily and collapsed onto the couch, your gown billowing as you did so. A little annoyed at how the fabric itched your skin, you tore the dress off, now being left in your silk chemise that you wore underneath the gown.

Kazuha picked up the gown, gently folding it over the back of the couch. He sat down in a nearby chair, giving you your much needed space. After awhile, you broke the silence that settled between you both.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I didn’t mean to yell back there.”

This happened often, way more often than you would’ve liked. It happened a lot with Venti because he was so persistent, but he was also calm and patient. If he set you off, he’d be right there to calm you down too. He’d apologize and sing comforting songs that made you relax.

Kazuha shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize, I understand.”

After years of being by your side, he learned how to handle any outbursts you have. He first learned how to when you were mentoring him. Both of you had been fifteen at the time.

You would be triggered by something so easily back then. You couldn’t even walk freely because of it. An escort would always be with you, keeping a close eye on you and ensuring you didn’t accidentally kill someone again.

Kazuha had never feared you, even when you lashed out at him a few times during your mentoring. Something would trigger you and you’d leap into an outburst. Nearby peacekeepers would try to interfere, but Venti and your District escort, Signora, would hold you down to the ground and tell security that they had it under control.

Even though you were severely unstable the entire time you mentored Kazuha, somehow someway your mentoring had led him to winning his games.

You could still remember even now, his petrified expression once he realized he was the last one in the arena, and how he broke down into tears the moment you saw him directly afterwards. You could still remember how he hugged you, clinging onto you like a lifeline.

His tear stained face dug into your shoulder, and you turned your back to the cameras so that he could cry in peace. You put your hand on his head to ensure he had at least a little bit of privacy as he cried, and you held him tightly with your eyes squeezed shut until he finally pulled away from you and mustered up a small smile.

You had told him that he didn’t need to force himself to smile, that he could cry into your shoulder as much as he needed to. He shook his head, saying that his tears had already dried up. That was obviously a lie, as when you went to leave him that night, he scrambled out of bed and begged you to stay with him. His voice had been so shaky when he told you he was scared of being alone because of his traumatic memories in the arena.

You stayed with him every night until the pain got somewhat better. Due to your own experiences, you couldn’t sleep. You’d stay awake, staring up at the ceiling and being a comforting presence for Kazuha if he had a nightmare.

The games had affected him almost the same way they did to you. There was one huge difference though: you left the games as a killer, while he left as a survivor.

You had killing tendencies after your games, while he was left with nightmares of someone targeting him. The both of you had very different types of trauma and dealt with it in two very different ways, but you stood by each other through it all. And now, you could confidently call him your best friend— besides Venti.

As Kazuha left for the night, promising that he would check back in on you in the morning, you made your way back into Venti’s room. The man was sleeping soundly on the bed, the covers all askew and one of his legs hanging off the side of the bed. You smiled at the sight and sat down next to him.

You pushed his bangs away from his face and gently placed a kiss to his forehead. Tomorrow, you’d help him nurse a hangover, and you’d be there right as he woke up, just like he always was for you.

The train ride back to District 7 was more than peaceful. Due to your sensitivity to loud noises, Venti and Signora decided to take their constant arguing to another room while you and Kazuha sat in silence.

The white haired man across from you was wearing a pair of glasses while he skimmed through a book. After his games, his eyes were banged up real good and he had to get glasses for things like reading.

You always thought they looked good on him, which made him feel better about wearing them. Silently studying the man in front of you, you noticed his cheeks beginning to turn a faint shade of pink.

Kazuha was undoubtedly very pretty— so pretty you found yourself staring at him for long periods of time whenever you were with him. He usually didn’t mind, or at least, pretended like it didn’t bother him. It really didn’t bother him, but it made him quite flustered.

He should’ve been used to the staring by now, but the truth was that he wasn’t. He softly cleared his throat and avoided your gaze, “Everything alright? Do you want me to go get Venti?”

The fact that he knew you so well to the point where he knew when you needed Venti made your heart melt. You meekly shook your head.

“No… I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” he muttered.

He was able to tell whenever you needed Venti’s support. There was always this look in your eye that told him that you needed Venti to be with you at that moment, and you were currently making that face despite telling him that everything was alright.

Venti was your safe person, your lifeline. If anything was wrong with you, he’d always be right by your side in a heartbeat. It made Kazuha feel a little pang inside his chest, even though he knew that you didn’t see Venti that way. That you and Venti were more akin to a father and daughter dynamic than anything.

Kazuha met your prying eyes. “I’ll be right back-“

“I said I’m fine!” you called after him, a little agitated that he wasn’t listening to you.

He waved you off despite your protests, and Venti was rushing in a second later, his eyes blown wide with worry and panic and his heart beating fast. He had thought that you had one of your outbursts again.

As soon as he saw your relaxed form, his shoulders relaxed and he let out a huge sigh of relief. “You had me worried something happened again,” he muttered before taking a seat next to you. You immediately moved to curl into his side like a cat.

You weren’t a huge fan of physical touch unless you were the one initiating it because of past trauma. Often times, you opted for no physical touch whatsoever, even if it was something so small as holding hands or a brush of a touch against your skin.

The smallest bit of touch could set you off on most occasions. It could have you screaming and gasping for air, clouding your brain with one word: danger.

Venti understood this, and so he never initiated anything with you. If he wanted to give you a hug, he wouldn’t unless you asked him for one. If he wanted to kiss your forehead, he wouldn’t unless you told him he could. He was always careful, making sure not to trigger an outburst or send you into a panic attack.

“I’m fine,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

Venti huffed, “I don’t mean to scare you, but if you so much as look at anyone the wrong way, the peacekeepers won’t hesitate to put you in chains again.”

You knew what he was talking about.

After your games, you had gone a little batshit crazy because of your trauma. You refused to let any doctors treat you because you were scared of being touched. Venti and Signora had tried to hold you down, but it only made matters worse.

It wasn’t until they realized why you were making such a fuss that they tried to calm you down, but at that point it had been too late. Your brain was already clouded and filled with thoughts of getting away from whoever was touching you. You were seeing them as threats, and they didn’t know how else to calm you down other than sedate you.

When you woke up, you were strapped to the hospital bed, which made things even worse . You screamed and kicked, until Venti had rushed in with a panicked look on his face and a kind smile. The familiar sight made you relax a little, just enough for him to distract you from the doctors who were just trying to do their job.

You were deemed too unstable to be left alone, and so Venti decided to join you in Victor’s Village. He lived with you for the next two years, and his comforting presence was what helped you to find healthy coping mechanisms.

For an entire year after your games, you were put in chains because of your tendencies to lash out at anyone who got within five feet of you. You had killed multiple doctors by that point, and when the capitol attempted to turn you into their plaything, you absolutely lost it. You killed every client until the capitol had enough and tried to put you down like a dog.

That was when Venti and Andrius intervened, advocating for your cause and defending you because you were just a poor, traumatized fourteen year old girl who would never be the same again. All you had wanted was to go back home to district seven and forget about everything that happened in that arena.

Your games had been way too traumatizing, and way too bloody. You refused to ever speak up on it again, and everyone knew better than to ask you about it— lest they end up dead.

“I just want to go home,” you whispered.

In truth, you had no home to return to. The capitol had taken everything from you: your childhood, your innocence, your life, your sanity, and your family. There was no one else except Venti and Kazuha left— your only last traces of home.

Signora was technically part of that home, too. She was the district seven escort, and also the woman who fashioned outfit designs for you. She was a hopeless romantic at heart, and she always loved having girl time with you before your games.

Afterwards though, you were too traumatized to say or do anything with her. You clung onto Venti like a lifeline, and your relationship with her all but fell apart. If it weren’t for Venti bringing you both back together through Kazuha, then you probably wouldn’t have ever spoken with her again.

Now, you were back on good terms with her. Though, you were still a little too unstable for her to deal with. You could sense that she missed having lively conversations with you over tea and sharing a plate of coffee cake, but anything could set you off at any moment— like a grenade. This made her keep her distance, as she was not that good at comforting others or dealing with people with PTSD.

That only resulted in you becoming closer to Venti, though you knew that even if you had become close with Signora, you probably still would’ve been closer with your mentor.

“I know, cecilia.”

There it was, that nickname that always brought you back to reality. No matter what you were going through, that nickname that Venti had given you always seemed to ease your mind and calm your nerves. You clung onto him tighter, afraid he might disappear if you let go.

He hesitantly placed a hand on your back, unsure if you were okay with reciprocated touch right now. When you didn’t show any signs of tensing up, he gently rubbed circles into your back with his thumb.

Eventually, you fell asleep.

Your “welcome home” was not a welcome at all. After arriving in district seven, the three of you disembarked the train and made your way back to your houses.

The people bid small hellos to Kazuha and Venti, who both returned their greetings with kind smiles and greetings of their own. However, as soon as the people saw you, they shuffled out of the way and went dead silent. They refused to meet your eyes.

Venti quickly led you back to your shared home, easing both yours and the people’s worries. You sighed in relief upon arriving back home, immediately flopping onto the couch and curling into a ball.

“Andrius wanted to stop by and see you,” Venti told you, rummaging the kitchen cabinets for a mug. He could tell you could use some warm tea right about now. “But I know how much you hate visitors.”

You hadn’t had visitors in years, but Andrius was different. You perked up at the mention of him, meeting Venti’s brilliant eyes. “Not if it’s him,” you said with a small smile.

If Venti was like a parental figure for you, then Andrius was like your grandfather. Although he preferred to be alone most of the time, he would occasionally come to visit just to see how you and Venti were doing. He would stay for just a little while, with Venti offering him something to eat or drink. He would ask you a few questions about your current mentality and your overall health.

If you hesitated to answer, he took that as a sign that you weren’t doing so well. Venti would often speak for you, carrying the conversation because he knew how much you hated talking. Despite your lack of interaction in that regard, you quite liked Andrius’ company. That, and he usually brought small gifts with him whenever he visited.

They weren’t anything special, just some snacks he knee you liked or some wooden carvings he recently finished and wanted to give to you. You had a few of them sitting on your windowsill from the last time you saw him.

The simple three knock pattern alerted you immediately, and you all but jumped up from your spot on the couch to go open the door. Venti chuckled at your excitement, watching in amusement as you threw open the door to greet Andrius.

The steadily aging man donned some wrinkles and a few gray hairs now. His bright blue eyes were significantly duller than the last time you peered into them, and his usually combed back navy hair was rather messy.

He held a neatly wrapped gift in his hands. Upon seeing you, he attempted a small smile. You knew he wasn’t one to smile or show much emotion in the first place, so you were surprised with the sight in front of you.

You stepped aside to allow him in, and he chuckled softly. “I see you still have it smelling like pine and cinnamon in here.”

“Of course!” Venti chimed in from the kitchen. He set down three mugs of tea in the living room. “Perfect timing! I just made us some tea.”

“Tea?” Andrius asked incredulously, almost as if he was offended. “What happened to all the alcohol?”

You smiled as you took a seat on the couch again. Grabbing your own mug of tea, you took a lengthy sip. “Venti finally drank it all.”

Andrius sat down in a chair across from you and shook his head with a knowing look. “I’m surprised it took him this long.”

“Hey!” Venti collapsed onto the couch next to you. “I’m not that bad!”

You were silent for a moment as you eyed the bottle of wine in his hands. It took one glance from you for him to whine and complain that he didn’t have a drinking problem. Which, of course, was a lie, but you knew the reason why he had a drinking problem in the first place.

It was all to forget what he experienced in the arena.

Everyone had different ways of coping, and not all of those were considered healthy. Andrius turned to smoking after his games as a way for him to cope with his overwhelming win. Venti turned to drinking, washing away all of his sorrows with way too much alcohol. And you?

You just dealt with it. At least, that’s what you claimed to do, but the scars on your arms and legs said otherwise. They told stories of dark nights alone on your bathroom floor, sobbing as you smudged your thumb over the new line of crimson that tainted your skin.

You got away with it for awhile… until Venti finally caught you in the act and had a breakdown right there with you on the floor. You could still remember the way he hugged you so tightly even though you tried to push him away. You could still remember the way he cried and how he promised he’d always be there for you.

It stopped after that day, but the reminders of your unhealthy coping mechanisms still lingered on your skin even now.

A small beep interrupted this oddly domestic moment you were sharing with Venti and Andrius. You flinched at the noise, the sound almost sending you into a panic attack before Venti gently shushed you and managed to calm you down. A second later, the screen of your tv lit up with the face of the wonderful President, Phanes.

The sight of her face had you lurching out of your seat. Venti abruptly pulled you back, immediately letting go of you when you looked like you wanted to punch his face in.

“It’s just an announcement,” Andrius reassured you in a somewhat comforting tone. “It’s about time for the annual games, it’s only natural that there would be an announcement.”

You nodded at his words, trying to calm your beating heart by repeating his words over and over again in your head. It was just an announcement.

You quickly found that it was more than just an announcement once Phanes issued that all previous victors were to be reaped again at the next annual reaping.

Everything faded into nothing. You remembered hearing a bloodcurdling scream as your heartbeat echoed loudly in your ears and your vision went blurry. You remembered being tackled to the ground by someone stronger than you, and you could vaguely remember the scent of metallic iron.

When you woke up, your eyes met Kazuha’s, and your heart dropped to your stomach once the events of a few hours prior flooded into your brain.

You would have to be reaped again.

author’s notes: chapters after this point will be extremely long, therefore it’ll take me awhile to write them. please be patient with me 🙏

and in the meantime, feel free to read my other works!

masterlist

#genshin #genshin impact #angst #genshin x reader #venti #kazuha #kazuha x reader #tartaglia #hurt/comfort #la signora #the hunger games #genshin kazuha #genshin venti #genshin tartaglia #genshin signora #— ✦ arsonist’s lullaby 🔥

31 notes · View notes

kisara-kaiba · 17 days

Note

OKAY THE KINKY BLUES HAS ME INTRIGUED PLEAAASE HEAR ME OUT ON SUGGESTIONS/BRAINSTORMING/HOPES/DREAMS. alright so it cant be in Temptation, the kink requires its own pocket dimension, first of all. as the biggest fanboygirl of their cycle of dominance and submission im gonna start off with that. a really fun and naturally flowing dom-sub dynamic for them is born in ancient egypt. if set put her aside as his property and tried to experiment with her ka with slowly increasing pressure whilr kisara was like "this kind man who saved me twice feeds me and shelters me who cares if hes tying me down and writing spells on my skin lol" it goes apeshit from there. TWO-this can be from many modern aus with little work, basically an in love blueship that seemlessly slipped into a dom-sub dynamic consciously switching it up a lil. whether that has seto giving orders while tied up on his knees or kisara begging to tie him up would be..that would go BRRRR. THREE. biting kink. straight up. no notes. id be fine with a 400 word introspective of either of one of them watching the bite marks they left on the other and their feelings about it. id settle. itd be enough.

how we feeling. any of thesr sound desirable. wanna brainstorm more. ill come knocking at your door like an unhinged mormon. anyway wanna tell you regardless, absolutely no pressure what you may or may not end up writing i just wanted to yell at someone about kinky blues, have a great day

S C R E E C H I NG this is why ily blueshipping king you just get my vision <333 that ancient Egypt idea has got me going f e r a l just thinking about it and i’ve thought for so long that i should write some mizushipping at some point anyway so yesssss. also biting is uh. yes please.

anyway okay now you got me started so strap in because this is gonna be a long ramble. so i feel like there’s several points about how i imagine their dynamic that i have to unpack here (putting it under a cut bc length or if ppl are uncomfy with this stuff)

↓↓↓

i am unfortunately boring in the way that i’ll ultimately always wanna write Seto as the dominant one just bc of my own personal preferences. BUT that obv doesn’t mean Kisa wouldn’t have a fair amount of control over the situation, both bc a healthy dom/sub dynamic requires it in terms of consent and boundaries ofc, but also bc a) Seto is so extreme in his need for Kisara’s explicit permission to do basically anything to her (even the vanilla stuff) because he’s so painfully precious about her well-being and also constantly plagued by not feeling worthy of her and b) while i think Kisa wants to be dominated i think she also realllly enjoys the control of knowing she’s got Seto wrapped around her little finger and could make him do any depraved thing she wants to her just by looking at him in the right way. so yeah i think they both know who’s really in control behind the scenes lol

i’m also DYING to get into Seto’s inevitable mental struggle to reconcile his thoughts and feelings of “she is a perfect goddess and i’m a mere mortal unworthy of even looking at her let alone touch her” and “i’d die to protect her and if anyone hurts her i’ll fucking kill them” vs his desire to be the one who gets to take this perfect goddess and make her submit to him, kneel before him, own and control and ruin her perfectly (because if there’s one thing we all know about Seto Kaiba is that he’ll make sure the divine yields to him, and not the other way around). I guess the key things there is that he alone is allowed to hurt her and no one else.

On this note i do however think Seto would be so conflicted about physically hurting Kisa, even if she very clearly and explicitly wants him to, because he just struggles with being so overprotective of her and not wanting to see her injured or in pain. but this would also be delicious to write him being all conflicted due to the guilt of causing her pain vs the fact that doing so is super fucking hot and he can’t resist doing it, esp not when she’s literally begging him to. Taking all of his frustrations after a long day out on her more than willing body would be so cathartic and tempting but also associated with so much guilt and worry about getting too into it and going too far.

I also definitely see Kisa as being the more extreme of them, to the point where i can actually see her be just a little bit unhealthily masochistic because she doesn’t really value herself due to past trauma, giving her a self-destructive streak and kinda fucked-up notions along the lines of ultimately being deserving of pain and suffering, that someone hurting her equals caring about her and wanting her, and that the ultimate thing she can do to show someone that she really loves and trusts them is to just offer herself up completely to use and do whatever they want to, which Seto would have to try to handle and mitigate because he’s ultimately not gonna let her use him to actually really hurt herself (and you know it would also break his heart a thousand times over to realise just how little she values and cares about herself due to her fucked up past). But I could also write it kinda funny in that whole “sub suggesting increasingly violent/fucked up things while the dom goes ‘idk that’s scary’” lmao. I think Kisa is a bit annoyed that people (especially Seto) tend to see her as this fragile, porcelain flower and wants to prove that she is perfectly capable of taking a (consensual) beating.

Outside of strictly sexual stuff i can also see Kisa as very much an ‘everyday/domestic acts of service’ kinda sub who just wants to bring Seto his coffee when he’s working and a drink when he comes home from work and make sure to always wash and iron his clothes and put them out before he leaves in the morning, tying his tie before he leaves and untying it when he gets home and cooking and serving his meals for him (which tbh wouldn’t just be about her being submissive but also bc she just wants to make sure he actually takes care of himself with like, eating and taking coffee breaks bc you know that man doesn’t take care of himself if left unchecked). And I think this also ties in with her sense of self-worth being tied to being useful and helping others because she doesn’t really see herself as valuable unto herself, but also maybe acts of service is just kinda her “love language” too. i feel like this is the sort of thing i could maybe include in Temptation bc she’s already pretty much like this there, with to me pretty obvious undertones that her working as Seto’s assistant is definitely triggering a submissive side in her.

Temptation also has the whole thing with Seto secretly enjoying Kisa wearing her KaibaCorp pin while working because it marks her as his for the world to see, and I definitely feel like that’d be a thing for him too. Branding her, either by things like visible bite marks/hickeys that she’s not allowed to cover up or something like a discreet necklace that is actually a collar (although tbf, with the fashion we see in the Yugioh universe, would anyone even blink at a BDSM-style collar? Like Yugi’s already wearing fetish gear as his everyday clothes lmao). I mean, Seto’s already pretty big on putting his branding on literally everything, so Kisa would be no exception (also imagine the ridiculous extravagance and amount of money and care Seto would put into a collar for Kisa).

While I’m not really into the idea of Seto being submissive per se, I do think both he and Kisa could easily have praise kinks because they both crave validation in their own ways and for someone to telling them that they’re doing/being good (Seto wouldn’t admit that though, but if I allow for some submissiveness on his part I think being called a good boy could fix him). But with him as the dom it also totally tracks for him to make Kisa worship him and stroke his ego in that way. On that theme, however, I could also imagine him making her allow him to worship her as a kind of ‘punishment’ bc he knows she has a hard time accepting that but that it’s also something that’s good for her to hear.

Also I can totally see Kisa being a little bratty as a sub sometimes because she likes to talk back to Seto and be deliberately cheeky, disrespectful and provocative (both because she enjoys the control of getting him riled up and because she knows that the more she gets him worked up the more forceful and intense he’ll be about putting her back into place afterwards).

Okay so this turned into a fic-chapter length essay about this topic instead of actually writing the fic (bc *ofc* i’d do that) but please lmk what you think!!! (and hopefully i'll use your ideas + my rambling and turn in into fic eventually)

#blueshipping #seto kaiba #kisara

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bullet-prooflove · 10 months

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Changes: Nestor Oceteva x Reader

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It’s Santi who teaches Nestor to play Uno. It starts with a tug on his shirt and a whisper in his ear when he’s standing in the kitchen talking to Marcus. He can’t help but comply with the request because this kid…

He breaks his fucking heart.

It’s been over a year since Paco died but Nestor still remembers that night, it haunts his dreams. The noise of the gun jamming, Paco’s anguished scream as he tried to stifle the bleeding from his chest, the gun jamming a second and then a third time. Nestor thinks that was the moment he realised how unhinged Miguel had become in the wake of Dita’s death.

Nestor isn’t sure when it happens, but he realises he’s enjoying himself. He likes the way that Santi’s face lights up when he beats Nestor. He’s never really been a fan of kids, the most interaction he’s had was with Cristobel and even then, that was limited. He thinks he held him once, when the nanny was sick, and Emily had too many things in her hands.

While he plays Uno with Santi, Tessa sits behind him and braids his hair. The little girl has been fascinated with it ever since he first turned up on Marcus’s doorstep and will spend hours undoing and then redoing the braids to her liking. Sometimes she makes small additions, pink hair ties with flowers on, sparkly hair clips. It isn’t until Izzy shows Nestor, the picture she’s sent you that he realises the true extent. He sighs, like a put-upon family pet before telling Tessa how much he appreciates her styling. After all her braids are getting a lot better.

It isn’t until the kids are tucked away in bed that he removes the precious items from his hair and sets them on the kitchen table. He shakes it out, leaving it loose as Marcus hands him a beer, one of the citrus ones from the local brewery. Having dinner with Marcus and his family has become a ritual for him when you’re on a job, a way of staying connected in the midst of his newfound freedom.

Now that Miguel’s fired him, there’s an absence in his life, he didn’t realise just how much time working as the Galindo’s Head of Security took up until he doesn’t have to do it anymore. You may have laid down roots but his own have been yanked right out from underneath him. He tries not to show it, but he feels the loss each and every day. He doesn’t regret his decision, but he feels the weight of it.

“He called me dad the other day.” Marcus reveals, jerking his head towards the hallway as he sits down across from Nestor at the kitchen table. “It was heart breaking.”

Nestor understands that feeling, they were both complicit in a way. Neither of them had seen Paco’s death coming and neither had done anything to stop it. Nestor thinks that Miguel was too far gone even at that point, if either one of them had stepped in Miguel would have viewed it as a betrayal and they too would have ended up in an unmarked grave.

“Do you think he’s still alive?” Marcus asks him, his thumb chasing a bead of condensation as it drips down the bottle.

“Yea.” Nestor nods before taking a sip from his own beer. “Mikey had a disaster plan in place if something like this happened.”

He thinks of the missed calls on his phone a couple of weeks ago, all from the same number. He knew who they were from, and he still didn’t pick up. He meant what he said, when he’d told Miguel he wasn’t leaving you. He wasn’t going to break his promise and shoot off to Mexico just because Miguel’s empire was falling. He wasn’t going to hide out in a nunnery, waiting for the whole mess to blow over, maybe once upon a time but not now.

“Do we need to worry…”

Nestor shakes his head.

“His resources are limited out here and I think he has bigger things to worry about.” Nestor tells Marcus as he considers the landscape on both sides of the border. “None of us are a threat to him and I don’t think he would want to risk Rosa’s wrath if he did do something.” “it’s ironic, isn’t it?” Marcus remarks, his gaze fixed on Nestor. “How their mutual love strikes a balance.”

Nestor frowns before tilting his head in puzzlement.

“Neither will move against the other for fear of hurting you.” Marcus says picking at the label on his beer bottle and sprinkling the debris onto the surface of the table. “You’re the person that holds the two of them together, keeps them stable. Without you there’d be bloodshed.”

Nestor has never thought about it like that, not really. He knows you won’t move against Miguel because of it would cost him, but with Miguel, he’s never been quite so sure.

“She told me about the house, the one a couple of blocks over.” Marcus remarks, his elbows coming to rest upon the table. “That your offer has been accepted.”

Nestor smiles because he remembers the way you lit up when you stepped through the door. It was airy and spacious with a garden for Santi and Tessa to play in. It ticked off every single one of the things on your wish list.

“I’ve never seen her as happy as when she saw it.” Nestor tells Marcus, the edges of his mouth twitching up into a smile. “She’s in a good place, she’s thinking about the future, it feels like she’s finally starting to settle.”

“And what about you?” Marcus questions.

Nestor shakes his head as he studies the label of his beer bottle intently.

“I don’t know what I’m looking for.” He admits with a shrug of his shoulders. “With the Navy, with the Cartel, it felt that I was a part of something and now I’m nothing. I could retire on the shit that’ve I’ve earned, but I don’t want that, I want to belong to something, to feel like I have a purpose.”

“You crave brotherhood,” Marcus tells him as he leans forward on his elbows. “I’ve been there, we all have. You want to be part of something larger than yourself, a family of sorts.”

“Since David…” Nestor trails off as he searches for the words. “I’ve been alone, I have no family, my friends are either in prison or dead. I don’t want to be the one that’s waiting for her to come home after a job, I don’t think that’s healthy. I want a life of my own. Somewhere where I fit.”

“There’s always the MC.” Marcus says with a pointed look. “They’re moving more towards community enterprises these days, trying to help with some of the fall out from the Agra Park deal.”

The Agra Park project, what a crock of shit that had turned out to be. He didn’t doubt Miguel’s business acumen, he knew it was a change of circumstance that had caused the scheme to fail but it had left the town in dire straits. Nestor saw it every time he drove through it. The Galindos had done nothing to pick up the pieces and it had left a bad taste in everybody’s mouth.

“They hate me.” Nestor reminds Marcus. He thinks about his last interaction with Angel and he knows that there is not chance in hell that the other man would allow him to patch in.

“Some of them hate you.” Marcus corrects him. “And truthfully mijo, when has that stopped you from doing anything? You become a prospect and you have a year to change their minds, and even if you don’t at least you would have done some good for this town in your tenure.”

A year as a prospect, it’s not even something he’s considered. He hasn’t ridden in years, he still has his old bike locked in a garage downtown, along with a couple of David’s belongings. He thinks of his brother, about the life he didn’t get to live and he wonders if this is the thing that he’s been looking for, the sense of brotherhood that he’s been missing.

“Can I think about it?” He asks Marcus as he drains the remainder of his beer.

Marcus shrugs his shoulders, before collecting both of their bottles and depositing them in the recycle bin.

“Take all the time you need. The MC isn’t going anywhere.”

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