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rottiens · 8 days

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⊹ ˚. MORAX (REX LAPIS) ┊ sfw, set in the archon war, gn reader. divider creds: cafekitsune.

The last drops of the drizzle drip off the roof using it as a slide, until they fall in the garden and wet the green grass and the silk flowers while you walk along the corridor bathed in an eerie silence, the yellowish opaque lights are not enough to chase away the gloom that the sunset brings and the creaking of your bare feet on the wood do not help to relax your spirit.

Your spear was stripped from you as soon as you set foot in the temple. The guards at the entrance demanded that you leave behind any weapon that could be used as a threat against Morax, patted your arms, thighs and back in sign of some undeclared weapon, finally opening the doors for you when they realized they would find nothing relevant.

Without your spear you feel naked, something that detonates your paranoia— you are suspicious of the shadows moving in the garden thanks to the branches being shaken by the wind, you are wary of the noise your ears hear coming from your own heavy footsteps.

You gather your arms and your fingers curl around your forearms slipping smoothly into the sleeves of the hanfu that was offered to you. Apparently your war soiled clothes were not dignified enough to stand before an archon. Instead, you received a beautiful blue hanfu with a qingxin flower embroidery on the bottom of the garment, the fabric is soft and falls perfectly on your body, as if it had been made for you.

In front of you is a perfectly round entrance protected with a bamboo door.

"You wanted to see me, Rex Lapis?" You add his name with a tone of uncertainty, unsure of what was the correct form with which you should address a deity.

On the other side of the door remains a long silence which is interrupted by a hoarse, "Come in."

You do not hesitate. With ease you slide the door aside to step into the room. Your gaze is immediately caught by the various details, eager to devour with your eyes how the room of a god looks from the inside. The first thing you notice is that you are in what appears to be the tea room. The room is sealed by a wooden wall, dark tones and brown splashed all over the place.

In front of you is a curtain that prevents you from seeing him, yet your eyes catch shadows behind it. The noise of glassware exposes that they are moving cups, then you realize that there was someone behind it and your instincts lead you to assume that perhaps it is Him. Morax was in his human form, his height rises above the curtain just barely surpassing it, he moves naturally in the shadows making you drown with his presence which leads you to seal your lips and lower your face until your eyes are looking at the silhouette of your feet hidden behind your attire.

"Come here." It is a direct command that you cannot refuse. His voice is husky yet soft as lilies, at first more than a command it feels like a request.

Your feet rise of their own accord and move to step through the curtain. You find him sitting on the floor with his legs crossed in an opposite way forming a triangle, he had brown loose pants, his hair was down resting loosely along his back while his chest was bare. His arms were a black color which you had mistaken for ink the first time you observed him, you were sure now that they were tiny scales (a trait perhaps due to his dragon form), laced with orange-toned markings that ran from his fingers to his shoulders.

You immediately lower your gaze as you felt unworthy to be gazing at him as if he were a painting image, he hadn't stopped to look at you, he was busy manipulating the porcelain cups.

"Sit down," he said shortly after, proceeding to fill a teacup.

With firm steps you make your way to the tiny table and drop to your knees with a stifled thud, your hands on your thighs and your back so straight it hurts.

You wander in thought about the few people who have had the chance to see him like this, in his human form and your heart flutters. Your fingers push your thighs down, droplets of sweat begin to accumulate in the palms of your hands and on the back of your neck.

Morax lays his gaze upon you for the first time and those glowing amber eyes consume you, not even in his dragon form had you ever had the chance to see him so closely so you find yourself contemplating him in detail, his eyelids dropping halfway down, retaining the authority he holds over you as he now mimics the aura of a feline.

"I received your request to return to the war… I wonder why. Didn't you just come back from it?" Morax inquired, subtly thrusting a cup in your direction.

You bow your face in thanks before taking the cup and bringing it to your mouth without adding words, you didn't know that the requests went directly to the archon. You were sure that the general in charge was the one who sealed them and sent the decree that you could go to war, so the idea that Morax had that in his hands and that he read your letter makes you swallow hard.

The tea is sweet, it runs down the rasp and burn of your throat. You distinguish the taste of honey and perhaps a few drops of lemon in it, it goes down smooth and helps you soften your next words.

"I wish to fight for my nation, there is nothing that would make me prouder than to die for you."

Something trembles in his face, and you're not sure what that expression means. His jaw tenses and the corner of his lips twitches softly, perhaps it was a smile you saw?

"For me?" Morax cooed the words near the cup, his breath creating waves in the infusion. You stir on your legs, your fingers ruffling the fabric of the hanfu. "How could that be possible when I heard your prayers in the field. You asked for a contract in exchange for me protecting your life." Then he drank, closing his eyes for a moment.

A contract… The archon was right, you had forgotten that because of the adrenaline of the moment.

Fear pumped through your system and prevented the processing of any logical thought. You were sure you were going to die in the field that day. An arrow pierced your left side grazing very close to your heart, every breath you took you could feel the splinters moving closer. The rhythm of your heartbeat was like that of a drum luring you to your death.

You were sure you were ready to die, you swore you always had, yet the moment your eyelids succumbed to the darkness your courage trembled and as your eyes closed for the last time, unable to open them again, you pleaded for your life.

"Do you remember now?" Morax's mug was on the table again, lost in the unpleasant memories that had returned you ignored the archon shifting position, now one of his knees was at chest level, his other leg still rested on the floor in a misshapen triangle while one elbow rested on top of the knee, and in turn the fist held his chin.

"I do," you swallowed. Unable to hold his gaze.

"Say it."

"I asked for a contract on my life. I asked for you to save me and in return I promised to give you the most precious thing I had…" your words hang in the air, half completed as you try to think, mentally piecing the puzzle together. "But I'm confused."

"Mm?" Morax inquired. Watching you struggle to put the pieces back in place, yet you get no more help from him. Leaving you to walk alone through that dark valley of memories.

"I have nothing that would be of value to you. I couldn't give you mora since you own every coin in existence, I have no animals to sacrifice, I have no family that survived the plague…"

"So you are unaware of your own worth." His amber eyes move over you, up and down and back and forth. There is no expression you can read on his face, the archon remains just as serene so you are not sure what he is thinking or what he is referring to. "I don't need anything material that you can give me. I already have your devotion so what could be more precious than that?"

"My body?" you added, incredulously, after a moment's thought.

Morax smiled, a grimace with an absence of teeth. "Your soul," he replied calmly. "You will always have my favor, you will always win no matter what battles you fight in. I'm going to make you the best warrior, people are going to tell stories about you." Your gaze lights up as the archon narrates the events he could make you live, or which he assures you will live. Then, he extends the hand with which he held his jaw in your direction, you watch the open palm in silence. "Just hold my hand."

It was the sign that your contract would be officially covenanted, before the celestial order, before the earth, and before the patron of contracts.

The thought makes you hesitate, shivers run through your chest making it hard to breathe. You weren't sure what that implied, what did he mean by giving him your soul?

You spread your fingers out, you can see them trembling on top of the table. Morax curls his hand around yours, his fingers are long and wrap around yours without difficulty. The texture of the scales is lumpy, barely perceptible as he tightens his grip.

The moment your gazes meet something inside you catches fire and burns. There's a bonfire at the top of your stomach and little electric snakes run up and down your arms, move inside your bloodstream.

"Don't be afraid," he assured you in that velvety voice." Your lips part to comment on something but before you can speak he pulls away from you. "I'll have your room ready for tonight."

"My room?" you repeat somewhat confused, returning your hand to your lap.

"I want to keep you close."

Something warm settles on your cheeks. Like the kiss of the first rays of the sun in the morning and the flutter of a tender butterfly makes your insides tingle.

"I want my spear back," you said suddenly.

You didn't feel like you without it, even though in a place like this you didn't need to be armed, it was necessary for you to have it close by for the emotional weight.

"You'll have it again," Morax affirmed, nodding his head.

You licked your lips as you turned your attention back to the mug in front of you, the golden liquid inside the porcelain was steady and serene, quite the opposite of your thoughts. Warm steam was escaping in the direction of the ceiling.

"Come join me for a sunset walk," Morax suggested, pricking the thought bubble that was beginning to fill in your head. "We can discuss the terms of our contract, I can answer your questions," he added. He seemed to have read your mind.

The proposal catches you off guard. Morax waits silently for your response, patient.

notes: just practicing writing again! this time I thought it would be fun to narrate and write a little bit about zhongli's (morax) personality since he is one of my fav genshin characters and i hope to write more about him in the future. thanks for reading! <3.

#wr #morax x reader #morax x you #morax x y/n #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader

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aviscarrentals · 1 month

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i want to play a (racing) game

a series of f1 fics based off of some of my favorite horror movies

charles leclerc- the shining

you, your boyfriend, and a bunch of friends decide to spend your winter break together in a giant hotel. what could go wrong?

max verstappen- it

after years away from your hometown, derry, you suddenly receive an urgent call from your long-forgotten childhood friend, alex, that leads to you returning to the very place you swore you would never face again

carlos sainz- a quiet place

after losing everything you know when the world fell into apocalypse due to the invasion of alien-like monsters with some very sharp ears, you find a new family in the other survivors

lando norris- scary movie (saw parody)

you wake up next to a stranger in a dimly lit room chained to a chair, which is bolted to the floor. luckily, the situation turns out to be more humorous than terrifying (may or may not be 100% based off of the jerma episode of generation loss LOL)

fernando alonso- freaky

you wake up in the body of a middle aged man. but not just any man. a man who also happens to be a wanted serial killer.

george russell- the purge

you and your best friend alex's annoying best friend, george, have to work together to survive the purge night (lily's also there)

pierre gasly- unfriended

you and your friends video call every friday night to hang out together. unfortunately, an angry spirit has decided it wants to spend some time with you guys as well...

mick schumacher- fnaf

after countless failed attempts, you've finally found yourself a new job! the bad news is, it's a night shift and you're scared of the dark. so, naturally, you drag your boyfriend along with you.

alex albon- child's play

when you and your boyfriend unexpectedly have to take in your young niece, you two struggle to make a connection with the little girl. maybe splurging on the cool new doll she's been wanting will fix that.

yuki tsunoda- final destination

what do you do when some random guy that you've never spoken to before tells you he's seen visions of you dying? what do you do when it turns out he was right and death is pretty pissed off?

oscar piastri- the menu

you and your husband have worked non-stop to build a successful, stable life for yourselves. you two really deserve a break. how about a fancy dinner on a remote island prepared by one of the most revered chefs in the entire culinary world?

ollie bearman- scary stories to tell in the dark

it's the final halloween before you have to move away from your hometown and your best friends since birth. hopefully you can make it a night to remember.

lance stroll- the cabin in the woods

you and your boyfriend decide to invite some friends to spend the weekend in a little log cabin in the forest as a way to momentarily retreat from your stressful lives. well you definitely won't be getting any rest this weekend, that's for sure.

logan sargeant- scream (aka yelp)

an eerie masked killer has made its way into your town and is slowly picking kids off one by one. who could it be? is there anyone you can trust? prologue chapter 1

liam lawson- happy death day

happy birthday! i hope you're excited because this will be the longest day(s?) of your life

sebastian vettel- the texas chainsaw massacre

it's summer, which of course means it's time for a roadtrip! unfortunately, you and your friends decided to visit texas, usa, where everything's bound to go wrong (because it's texas, usa)

kimi raikkonen- would you rather

desperate times call for desperate measures, although at this point desperate would be an understatement. so when the perfect opportunity falls right into your lap, who are you to turn it down?

jenson button- halloween

it's halloween! the spookiest day of the year. even though you don't bother participating in silly little holiday celebrations, there are some traditions you can't ignore…

mark webber- 28 days later

the world has gone to shit. even so, you're doing everything you can to survive, despite how hard it is on your own. maybe it would be better if you formed a team?

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flynnriderishot · 2 months

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saw your other post and i can agree that the energy is definitely different. but don’t take it to heart if you aren’t considered ‘famous’ in the triplet fandom then you get treated badly. it isn’t nice but it unfortunately what we have to deal with. i happen to love your writing and the energy you give off based on your blog ❤️

can you please write a imagine for the donut expert (nate) based off of the triplets donut video? totally understand if you aren’t up for it!

—g

donut ceo - n.d

a/n: when i find out who ‘g’ is, trust, you will become my bestie 😔❤️

you sat in the triplets LA home next to your boyfriend, nathan.

the triplets were filming a donut ranking video, leaving you and nate to watch as neither of you wanted to really be on camera at the moment. the three respected that, nicely asking if you’d be fine with waiting until they were done filming.

as you played a game on your phone, you could hear nate laugh every once in a while at something one of the triplets said.

you were hardly paying attention, leaving nate to gently rub your thigh in hopes of taking your mind off how impatient you were getting.

“you okay?” he whispered into your ear, watching as you placed your phone beside you to curl into his arms.

you nodded, “just tired.”

he lifted your head to look up at him, pecking your lips sweetly. if it wasn’t the gesture that was sweet, it was the lingering taste of the maple donut he had a few minutes ago.

“i’m sure they’re almost done.”

as if on cue, matt began to speak to the camera,

“before we wrap up this video, we’re going to get a donut expert to come share his opinion on this.”

nate slowly pulled away from you, muttering a quick, “i’ll be back.” before walking to the kitchen.

you turned back to watch the four boys, glancing at nick and nodding in his direction once he gave you a look that asked if you were okay.

“wait, which one is the best this is the best?” nate asked, wanting their opinions before he got into it.

“this is the best.” nick pointed to the cinnamon roll that sat on the table, “it's a cinnamon roll and that's—“

“that's not even a donut.”

“that's the worst.”

“that's what I'm saying.” matt agreed with nathan’s previous statement.

you eventually drowned out the sound of the chatter until chris shouted your name,

“yn! yn, please!”

your eyes were wide with shock, “what?”

“come here really quick.” he walked to the couch, grabbing your wrist and dragging you in frame. “nate’s the donut expert and yn’s the donut experts ceo.”

“that wasn’t funny.”

“eat this.” nate put the small piece of the maple donut up to your face.

you pulled back, “why?”

“we need you to choose which one of these is better.” matt said, “chris thinks maple is better than the red velvet one.”

with zero hesitation you shrugged, “it is.”

“yeah!! i told you!” chris shouted, shaking your shoulders in excitement.

“no, no, no—“

“yes, yes, yes.” the youngest triplet mocked the eldest, watching as you tasted both donuts, “she said what she said.”

“she hasn’t tried them. she can change her mind.” matt held his hands up.

the silence was eerie as they awaited your final decision.

“this is so nerve wracking.” nick mumbled with a small giggle, you following along before you moved to put the maple and red velvet donuts in their respective ranking order.

“oh god.”

before you could even place them down completely, chris ran out of the kitchen, the camera picking up on his cheers of happiness as nick and matt let out short groans.

“no way!”

“what?” nate’s mouth fell.

“thank you donut expert and donut ceo. it was awesome having you.” nick smiled, allowing you and nate to walk away.

their voices faded in your ears as nate looked over at you in disbelief, “really? maple over red velvet?”

taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nathan doe fluff #nathan doe x reader #nate doe #nathan doe

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loverd0ve · 2 years

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୭✧˚ ⋆｡˚🤍 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚✿˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 🤍✧˚ ⋆｡˚୭

#vintage #coquette #lily rose depp #cleancore #whitecore #white moodboard #eerie aesthetic #minimalist fashion #ulzzang #nature #cottagecore #so cosy #soft aesthetic #softcore #softette #soft moodboard #soft girl

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bambooshootssoup · 11 months

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"Got a Date? "

-General Dating HCS-

Asta, Yuno, Nacht, William X Reader

CW! : there's probably a spoiler or two?, it's just fluff and nothing else, Nacht being Nacht, some language mistakes

- Asta-

- he's very good at finding places for dating? (One of his attempts to propose sister Lily)

- he could and will makes a whole rundown to make sure you could enjoy your dates with him

- "I should buy a flower, wait, there's a lot of flowers there- urgh..... Should I buy her a gift? But what does she like?.... Big sis Vanessa!!!!! Help meeeeeee!!!!!! "

- hold hands all the way (yeahhh!!!!!)

- the sweetest person that you could ever ask for

- he'll probably take you to the field full of flowers and make you run around with him or make a lot of flower crowns

- "here's a very pretty crown for my queen!! It's only made from flowers now.... But when I become a wizard king, I promise I'll give you a real one, okay? "

- Yuno Grinberryall -

- first, he has to figure out how to go on a date with you without having Bell, his Sylph to curse at your existence all day long

- protective hand holding (he literally grip your hand instead of holding it, but gently)

- dates are most likely spent at a Teashop or library, with him cannot get his eyes off you, he just blankly stares at you

- "is there anything you want to order? I could order it for you.... Oh, you got some cream on your cheek, let me wipe it for you"

- on rare occasions, he takes you to the Demon's skull on his village and just stargazing

- " Anything for you, my love"

- Nacht Faust -

- Stay at Home date are the best option if he has to choose, being a spy never be easy and always tiring, and he doesn't have much energy to go anywhere anymore

- at your home preferably (his house are too eerie to become a good place to date)

- a very good cook, he always helps you to prepare food, with a little help from his little devils (it ain't much but it honest work)

- and for the rest of the day, Cuddles and a lil bit of chatter, he would talk about his day and how he hates everyone (except you)

- "everyone is good for nothing... Hm? Does that include you? Don't be silly, at least your hugs are comforting compared to their endless babbling"

- William Vangeance -

- He's tired (2) , all of that office work could make him explode and you're always wondering how he keeps himself intact

- He could never say no to Picnic dates tho, he loves your homemade foods (even if you couldn't make something edible, like me-) , and what makes it better is that he could spend his day lay his head on your lap

- it's so relaxing and stress-relieving, the most comfortable place in the whole world if he has to be honest

- but there are times when he takes you to a fancy places, and literally treats you like a queen, he goes "anything for you, my queen" Mode

- " I wish I could do more for you, but those paperworks doesn't seem like it's going to let me go anytime soon, I'm very sorry that I always make you understand my circumstances "

Thanks for reading ^^ and have a nice day~

#william vangeance x reader #nacht faust x reader #yuno grinberryall x reader #asta x reader #asta #yuno grinberryall #nacht faust #william vangeance #black clover #black clover x reader

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lonewolfwriting89 · 11 months

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MORE - [SR]

"To bare flesh is to invite a knife"

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of a dead body. Hints of torture and violence. Blood. Depictions of war. Trauma. Explicit Language. NSFW. Smut. Soft smut.

A/N: A somewhat softer Simon, written with female!reader insert. Pre-established relationship between Simon x Reader. Thanks to @offendedfishnoises for all your help, thanks to @more-cardigan-than-woman too xoxo

————

I wanna see the rest of the world the same way that you do, I wanna be the home that you leave and you return to, I wanna stay here in your arms as long as I can do.

All anyone wants is just, More time, more life, more healing, More love, more us, more feeling, Oh, I just need, I'm just needing, More you, more nights for dreaming, These days go by so fast and I, Oh, I just need, I'm just needing more.

There's not enough time in one life, For you and I, there's not enough time.

————

It was 2am, Simon saw the clock tick over just a few seconds ago. Sleep didn’t come all that easily anymore, even when he was curled up against your soft, warm body. He tugged you into his chest on instinct, feeling his heart flutter when you subconsciously leaned further back, resting the base of your skull against his collarbone. You murmured in your sleep, your lips parted just slightly. Simon had to refrain himself from kissing them, giving into your passion.

The cold autumn air had crept in through the glass of your apartment windows, chilling the bedroom off. It was fresh. Simon liked the contrast of it against your heat.

You hummed again in your sleep, hand meeting his around your waist. He gave a secret smile, the brush of your fingertips setting his nerves on fire. Unable to resist any longer, Simon ghosted feather light kisses along your shoulder, working across your flesh and stopped just below your ear.

You were his. You’d told him so. Repeated the words back to him as he buried himself inside you to the hilt. Nails digging crescent shapes into his shoulder blades as the pleasure exploded behind your eyes.

It was these moments Simon cherished the most. The peace. Tranquillity floating like a lily on the water's surface. He ran his free hand along the length of your bare body, burning the feeling into his memory. He’d take this with him on his next deployment. Picture it when he was lonely and needed you the most.

You shivered and snuggled in impossibly closer. A puff of air left your lips, a beautiful sigh. Simon snorted to himself, everything you did was mesmerising. Even the most mundane of things like brushing your teeth on your tiptoes, his black T-shirt barely covering your ass. He smirked, cock twitching slightly at the thought.

His fingers splayed across your stomach, pressing your skin to his. He sighed and leant his head forward, sinking it into you. He felt you absorb him, and he allowed it. Becoming drunk on the feeling.

It was this. This is what he needed. The last mission was tough, bruises still lingering on his knuckles. Cut still healing on his upper lip. His emotions had crept up on him, drowning him in the field momentarily. For the first time in a long time, he was scared.

————

Flashback

————

Turning the corner, Simon whipped his gun clearing the room. Empty. It was dark, filthy sheets covering the tiny windows. The broken glass allowed the heat of the desert to seep in. Simon pressed his thumb into the side of his radio on his chest, his assault rifle loose in his fingers but still dangerous , “It’s a negative Captain, the rooms have been evacuated, I think there’s a body on the table under some tarp”.

The air was thick with sand and dust, clogging his nostrils. There was a distinct smell of decay in the room, tinged with bitter metallic blood. The crackle of his radio shattered the eerie silence, Price’s voice filtering through, “Understood Ghost, check the room for any intel”.

Dropping his gun down, Simon scouted the edges of the room first, his gloved hands rummaging through the wires and screws on the tables. It was the remnants of a bomb. He pocketed some of the paperwork hidden underneath, it looked like some kind of instruction manual, one of the mechies could look over it at the base camp.

Turning, he looked towards the metal table in the middle of the room, a dank piece of tarpaulin strewn untidily over what was clearly a body underneath. Poor fucker, thought Simon. He huffed and stepped closer. What a shitty way out, laying dead in a derelict warehouse.

He gripped the edge and tore it back, feeling the ground fall out beneath him when he saw what was under it. His stomach plummeted, heart racing rapidly in his chest. He felt it tighten, his head going foggy.

A mangled female body, drenched in blood laid there. Lifeless. Her skin was pale and blotchy, covered in bruises and welts. But what caught Simon was her hair. Your hair. Matted, stained with blood and vomit. It streaked across your swollen face, lips bust open.

You. His world. Lying dead, cut open. Simon gripped the edge of the table and tried to focus but struggled. Eyesight spotting in the corners. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. Not in his world. No.

“Any luck Ghost?”.

Simon’s head was pounding, a high pitched ringing sounding through his ears like a bomb had exploded. Price sounded like he was in the distance, faint and wavering. His vision throbbed and he gripped the edge of the table, oxygen catching in his lungs with sand. He felt heavy. Sick. When did it become so hard to breathe?

“Ghost?!”, Price shouted again, “Do you copy??”.

He needed to ground himself. The panic clawed its way up this throat and constricted painfully. Simon pressed his head to the wall and counted.

10, 9, 8…

He could hear the wind whipping through the building outside, carrying the arid temperature with it. It was hot. Too hot. Sweat dripped down his forehead, tracing down his spine under his tactical vest. He missed the British weather. Unpredictable.

7, 6, 5…

The roar of an engine, one of the trucks surging into life. The acrid scent of burning rubber and motor oil floated on the air. It was thick like syrup. Black. Simon would bet Price had sent in back up as he hadn’t responded. He needed to get himself together. Fuck. He couldn’t be caught like this. Brick by brick, he needed to place that wall back. He wasn’t Simon. No. Right now he was Ghost. Ghost.

4, 3, 2..

It can’t have been you. No. Never. He’d never let anything like that happen to you. You were thousands of miles away, wrapped up in sheets of soft linen, probably drinking too much coffee whilst reading a book. He tried to imagine the smell of the fancy coffee you loved, your perfume that always lingered on his skin for hours. This wasn’t you. It was a cruel trick of his imagination. You were safe. He’d left you safe, back home. You were ok.

1…

He heard the sound of footsteps racing up the stairs, the sound of Soap’s Scottish twang echoing off the crumbling brick walls. Simon ripped himself off the wall and raised his rifle just as Soap barged into the room. Johnny could see straight away the room was clear except for Ghost who looked oddly dishevelled, stood right in the middle.

“Everything alright L.T?”.

“Fine”, he grunted and strode across the room, he tipped his head to the side, “Deceased female, covered her back up, it wasn’t—”.

“Understood L.T”.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Ghost appreciated when Soap stepped in.

———

Stepping out into the black of the night, Simon flipped the mobile in his hands. He’d picked it up in a market on the outsides of the town, almost certain it’d never trace back to you.

Resting his back against the wall, he propped his combat boot against the brick before looking up at the sky. He could see every star. There was hardly any light pollution out here. You’d have loved the sight. You liked gazing at the night sky, especially if he was holding you.

He ran his tongue across his lips before dialling your number. The sound of the rings lulling him into a false sense of security. He still found it strange that the heat of the desert so quickly turned to ice when the sun sank. He shuddered.

——

Your ringtone bounced off the bedroom walls startling you from your sleep. Poking your head from under the blankets you saw the room was still dark, illuminated by the light of your phone ringing. You squinted your eyes, looking at the clock at the other side of the bed. 3am.

Who would be calling you at 3am? You yawned, stretching your back and arching up before grabbing your phone from the nightstand.

Unknown caller.

3am.

You slid the bar across on your phone to answer it, answering it your voice came out horse, “H-hello?”, you coughed, clearing your throat, “Hello?”.

Simon closed his eyes the moment he heard your voice trickle through the phone. He soaked it in, allowing it to wash over his senses. You sounded exhausted. Probably because it was 3am. Fuck. He shouldn’t have called so late. He took a deep, steady breath.

You yawned again, sitting up in bed. You wiped at your eyes, a strange feeling flooding your stomach, “Hello? Is someone there?”, you held your breath nervously, “I can hear breathing…”.

Swallowing thickly, Simon tried to contain his emotions. What could he say? What would you say? He’d never called you when he was away before. The weight of the day sat heavy on his shoulders, forcing him to slump back into the brickwork. He let out another sigh, it sounded weak.

“Si? Is..is that you? Are you ok?”, you bit your lip, waiting to hear him. God you hoped it was him. Wishing he was ok.

“Love…”, his rough voice cracked.

You let go of the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, relief washing over you like a flood, “Simon…”.

It was comforting to know it was him but terrifying at the same time. You knew Simon never called whilst he was away. He’d always said it was too dangerous. He didn’t want anyone finding out about you. Something had to be wrong, seriously wrong for him to be calling you. Anxiety sank into your bones, chilling them.

“Simon…”.

He loved hearing you say his name. You were perfect. He wished he could stay with you. A prayer. One that never seemed to be answered. More time. That’s what he wanted. More time with you. His centre.

“I—I’m sorry, it’s got to be late there love”, he shivered as the cold nip of desert air whipped under his balaclava, “I shouldn’t have called”.

“What happened”.

Simon cursed. You knew him too well. He shouldn’t have been that surprised really. You’d always been able to see into him. It’s why he loved you. Not that he’d told you that. The words always fizzled out before they left his tongue.

“It's nothing. I just—I needed to hear your voice”.

You tugged the comforter up your body and inhaled, it still smelled vaguely of Simon. You refused to change it, not wanting to let him go fully, you needed him with you.

“What do you need me to say?”, you could have said, ‘what do you want me to say’ but you didn’t, want is so different to need. And Simon needed you. He couldn’t voice it properly, always struggling to say what he truly wanted. But it didn't matter, you always knew anyway.

Simon let out a light, surprisingly delicate chuckle, “I could listen to you say anything”.

You flushed a little at the flirt and curled into his side of the bed, “Are you sure you’re ok?”.

“I am now”, he rolled his skull balaclava up just under his nose, placing a cigarette between his chapped lips. He lit it before taking a long slow drag. The nicotine hit perfectly.

“I thought you’d quit, hm?”, you hummed, a tease coating your words.

“Damn, I thought you wouldn’t hear me”, he snorted out a laugh, the sound somewhat hollow, “Old habits an’all that - I’ll start again tomorrow, promise love. M’sorry”.

You rested your head on his pillow, smiling to yourself, remembering not that long ago when he was laid there, threading his fingers through your hair, “S’ok Si…I understand”.

“You should go to sleep, love, it’s late there”, Simon took another drag, blowing the smoke into the blanket of the night. He didn’t want you to go at all. He’d stay awake till sunrise with you. But, duty calls.

‘I wish you were here’, you wanted to say, the words almost escaping your lips, but instead you murmured, “I’ll be dreaming of you”.

His lips curled around the cigarette end, “And I you”.

The line disconnected and Simon stared at the dark screen of the phone. He missed you instantly, desperate to call you back. There was so much more to say. Why didn’t he say it? It would have been perfect. You’d have wanted to hear it.

Instead he muttered his confession to the desert, ‘I love you’ faded into the air, before he dropped the phone to the floor, smashing it with the heel of his boot. He couldn’t have anyone finding out about you. Getting to you. The broken shards of the phone scattered, some becoming buried by the shifting sands. Turning, he headed back towards the barracks, preparing for another day.

————

End Flashback

————

Safe. That was how it felt when you woke in Simon’s embrace. Your limbs entangled with his. You felt his muscles tense as he stretched, his arm wrapping back around you tightly. The heat radiated off his skin, warming yours. It was a feeling you loved, your bare skin pressed to his. The soft sheets draped over your entwined bodies.

You looked up at him, his eyes closed somewhat peacefully, his fingers mindlessly twirling your hair around them. Leaning up, you frowned noticing the yellow bruise above his lip, the cut on his lip just about healed. Gently, you kissed the wound, feeling heat bloom in the pit of your stomach when Simon smiled.

“Simon…”, you started, fingers stroking over the dip in his chest, “Each time you come back with another scar, I’m just going to have to kiss it better”.

His eyebrows lifted, a smirk evident on his face, “Y’know that’s only going to encourage me right?”.

Laughing, you smiled and felt the blush spreading across your cheeks, “I probably should have thought that through that before I said it”.

“No no, you’ve said it now, love”, his large hand dragged down your back making you shiver, “I expect to come home to you nursing me better —every time”.

Fluttering your eyelashes on purpose, you looked up at him with doe eyes, “In one of those little nurse outfits?”.

You saw his eyes flicker dark momentarily and he growled, “Don’t be a tease”.

“Who said I was kidding?”.

Simon tried to roll you both over but you pressed your hand to his chest, stopping him.

“Something wrong, love?”.

You shook your head and stroked the cut with tenderness, “How did you get it?”.

It wasn’t unusual for Simon to come home with cuts and bruises. New scars and broken bones. But something told you this was different.

“Get what?”, Simon pretended to look confused, dipping his head down to kiss you. Ready to distract.

“Simon…”.

He sighed softly, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of it. He’d never been able to say no to you.

“Well, long story short, I got into a scuffle with one of the new lads…fucking cheeky cunt”, he muttered the last part under his breath.

“What—”, worry flickered over your face, eyes going wide. It wasn’t like Simon to get into fights with his colleagues, he was always so professional. Brothers in arms, he’d once said. Your mind was whirling until you heard his voice cut your thoughts short.

“It doesn’t matter now, it’s fine”.

“But—”.

“I promise love”, he kissed you so gently you would have sworn you imagined it, “Please—please don’t worry”, another kiss was planted on your forehead, making you sigh happily.

“I’ll be more careful”, he murmured the last part so softly, you didn’t catch it, “For you”.

——

The heavy patter of rain against your window pane was somewhat of a safety net for Simon, the miserable weather common here in his northern hometown of Manchester. The bedroom window was cracked open slightly, allowing the smell of the rain to float in softly. He sighed quietly, his fingers drifting down your bare side. For the first time in months, Simon felt at peace. Having you finally curled up in his arms made him just that little bit softer. Smoothing down his sharpened edges. He bent his head and brushed his lips to your scalp, a light hum leaving his throat.

“Si”.

He repeated the motion, tugging you further into him. He didn’t answer, there wasn’t any need. His actions spoke for him. Said the words he hadn’t yet said, though they weighed heavy on his tongue. Like molten lead.

Fuck. He’d do anything for you — anything. He’d burn the world if you asked him, no questions asked. Simon wondered briefly if you knew the levels he’d go to, just to see you smile. That’s why he did this, his work. He did it for you. To keep you safe. That’s all he wanted.

It hurt every time he left, his boots becoming heavier each time. His arms would wrap around you longer, hold you that little bit tighter. You never complained, not once. Seeing him off each deployment with a lingering kiss and a promise.

He felt your silken lips kiss a sensitive spot on his neck and he shuddered. The embers lighting deep in his stomach, a husky groan rumbled in his chest. You smiled against his skin, nuzzling gently.

Simon’s job was dangerous. You knew that. You’d seen enough evidence when he’d make it back home. Scars, broken bones, bruises and cuts. He’d never given you details, not wanting to burden you with that. Having you there was enough.

At the start, Simon had wondered if keeping you had given him a weakness. A tactical error. You’d carved into his heart and given him an emotion. Something he wasn’t even sure he was capable of anymore. He’d spent years within the army, specialist training to cut off that side of him, to become a ghost. Nothing. Isolated. But he was wrong. God he was so wrong. And he’d never been so happy to be wrong. You were his strength. A reason. Something to fight for. Something to live for. Something to come home for.

————

Flashback

————

Hidden in a burnt out building, Ghost paced next to Price, waiting to hear from Soap. He’d picked out a sniper point a few streets down to try and locate their target. He’d gone alone against Simon’s wishes. Demanding to go with him, Price had vetoed the idea, telling Ghost to stand down, Soap could handle it.

Price turned to Simon and gave him a harsh glare, the continuous steps grating on his nerves. He grunted in response before grabbing the radio, unable to wait any longer.

“Soap? You there yet? What can you see? Can you see him?”.

There was a brief crackle before Soap’s distinctive voice sounded through, “Negative LT…3 on the ground floor, 2 on the first floor but—”, the radio splintered before carrying the sound again, “—But I-I’ve lost eyes on the Jack of Hearts, sorry…he ain’t here”.

Simon huffed in annoyance before radioing through, “All right…copy Soap”, he twisted looking at Price, “I think we should wait Sir, it’s a risk…no point clearing the building and spooking the target”.

Price almost felt the cigar drop out of his mouth, unsure if it was Simon Riley that had uttered those words. He was normally itching to clear out a terrorist hot spot.

“Repeat that”.

“I said we should stick it out Sir, no point wasting ammo and effort if he’s not there. It’s just 5 bodies we gotta clear out. Unnecessary risk”.

Simon could feel Price’s eyes burning through his mask, scorching his skin. He was thankful for the mask, hiding everything he’d thought to bury away, the sweat beaded at his brow. Even he had to admit this wasn’t like him. But, you. You. He couldn’t risk it. Not anymore. He had to get back to you. You needed him. And he needed you.

Price nodded and ran a hand over his chin, “I—”.

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as one of the rookies in the corner piped up, scoffing with distaste, “Come on now Cap’n, are you serious?”, he snorted, “Why aren’t we going in? It’s 5 less scumbags on the planet. It’s not that risky…”, the rookie eyeballed Simon, seemingly unphased by his shorter height, “I didn’t realise The Ghost was such a pussy”, he laughed and patted Simon on the front of his tactical vest, “You lost your balls or something after you found that dead bitch the other day?”.

“What was that?”.

Rage. A blistering furnace burned bright inside him, his heart hammering against his chest violently. His vision turned red and before he could stop his body, Simon launched himself towards the arrogant rookie.

——

The pristine white sink turned a deep shade of red as Simon shoved his hands under the steady stream of water. The lukewarm liquid soaking his gloves. He cursed, as it making the cuts sting. He grimaced, looking up into the mirror, he could see a stain of blood leaking through the dark material of his balaclava. It was probably a mix of his with the fucking rookie’s. Scowling, he knew he’d have to explain to you why he had a bust lip when he got back.

His eyes darted to the corner of the room reflected in the mirror when he heard the door hinge squeak. Soap appeared slowly, a smug smirk hung on his lips. Simon already knew he’d have a headache before he left.

“What”, he spat, his northern accent carving the word harshly.

Soap had the audacity to laugh, folding his arms over his chest, his grin growing wider, “Did breaking his nose make you feel better?”.

Simon grunted, refusing to give an answer. It made him feel better for a few seconds, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone as his fist connected with it. But then you invaded his thoughts and he stopped. Guilt. You wouldn’t want him to do that.

“Y’know Riley”, Soap caught the wild glance from Simon and he coughed, correcting himself, “Sorry, L.T”, he smiled smugly, “Whoever the lass is…she must be something real special t’ya”.

The silence was thick. Palpable. Simon didn’t want to give anything away but it was obvious as his shoulders tensed.

Johnny flexed subconsciously, tapping his fingers against his forearm. He wondered briefly if he’d overstepped, concerned that Simon might try to strangle him. But the silence and rigid stance told him all he needed to know. He was right. Relaxing a little, he attempted to lighten the mood, “You’ll have to introduce me”.

“Fuck off MacTavish”.

Soap couldn’t see it but there was a hint of a smile curling Simon’s lips.

————

End flashback

————

Delicate. Like lace. Simon closed his eyes and basked in the feeling of your fingertips lazily grazing over the tattoo covering his left arm. You traced the skulls, letting your nails skim over the outlines. They were a part of him, as much as you were. His skin shivered when you stroked a sensitive spot near his shoulder. There was an ugly welt residing there. An old gunshot wound from Siberia.

“‘Bout 6 or 7 years ago”, his voice, thick and heavy like whisky, ran smooth down your spine, “Got pinned by a sniper—bastard—a lucky bastard mind you”.

He was so nonchalant about these things. Like it didn’t matter. Just another day to add amongst all the others. But to you, every scar and mark made your stomach knot. The thought of him hurting shattered you.

His thick fingers kneaded the base of your neck as you rested on his chest, ironing out the kinks hidden there. You let out an appreciative hum.

“Si…”.

“I know, just lemme yeah?”.

Simon knew you’d wanted to shower him with affection but he couldn’t resist putting his hands on you. How could he not? Without warning, he rolled you under him, resting his weight on his tattooed forearm besides your head. Your legs splayed open without thought, allowing him to slot between them.

You were so soft, so beautiful, so perfect. Splayed underneath him, like an angel of innocence. Wild hair framing your head like a halo against his pillow. But he, he was rough. His edges were sharp and nasty, cutting deep to the bone. He was nothing like you. He’d been tainted by the ugliness in the world, torn down and broken up. And you were like the first blossom of spring.

Your hand reached up to cup his face, pulling him from his thoughts. You must have sensed he was dwelling somewhere he shouldn’t.

“Simon”.

He bent down and captured your lips in a demanding kiss. It was harder than he intended but full of emotion. His tongue ran along the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. Granting it, you sighed happily into his mouth, your hands snaking around his neck, pulling him down so he was pressed against you.

Simon let his tongue run along yours, tasting you. A light hint of peppermint. He groaned into the kiss, letting his hand smooth down to the apex of your thighs.

You gasped when his calloused fingers found your clit, stroking over it with just enough pressure to have your thighs quiver around him. Fuck. He loved watching you fall apart. He needed you so badly. He wanted to drown in you.

Tearing himself from your lips, he planted hot, wet, opened mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone, humming words of affection into your skin as his fingers continued their lazy pace.

“Si…fuck..oh”, you whimpered and your hips bucked on their own accord.

“Need you—”

“Me too love, fuck—”.

He’d never known anything like it. He was desperate for you, throbbing against the flesh of your thigh.

Sliding into you with a practised ease, Simon swore under his breath, you mewled, body arching to his. Your soaked core stretching deliciously around him.

The feeling never faded, only intensifying every time. Your legs wrapped around his, tangling together as he drove into you over and over.

Linking his fingers with yours, he pushed your hand above your head, holding it firmly as he thrust deeper. Your breath caught, heart racing wildly in your chest, hammering next to his.

“You feel so good—”.

“Si…I-I—”.

“Let go love”, he whispered, leaning down to press a heated kiss to the dip of your throat, “I—fuck, I’m right there with you”, his words stumbled together, pleasure pulsing through his veins.

The high hit you hard, climax tearing through you like a white hot flash. It buzzed along your skin as you sobbed his name. Simon followed, feeling his body become lighter, his mind hazy with nothing but bliss.

Soaking in the afterglow, Simon pressed his forehead between the valley of your breasts, sighing contently. He didn’t want to press for too long, aware of his heavy bulk crushing your tiny frame.

Rolling to the side, Simon laid out on his back, dragging your body onto his chest, blunt fingernails scraping down your back, resting on the dip of your ass. His eyes were closed but he knew you were staring at him, he could feel the burn of your gaze.

“I’ve missed you”.

The confession felt better in the open. You wanted him to know you thought about him, always. Never questioning where your loyalty lay. It would always be him.

You saw Simon’s lip quirk up at the corner, the scar there only adding perfect detail to his handsome face.

“Oh yeah?”, the playful mock hung heavy on his northern accent.

You ignored the teasing tone, knowing it was a deflective measure. Simon struggled to accept he deserved love, affection - let alone someone actually missing him.

“Mhmm”, you hummed and leaned down, kissing his lips softly, “I always do”.

He swore his heart skipped a beat. He wondered if you noticed, pressed up against his bare chest. Keeping his eyes closed, he nodded into the pillow.

“I missed you too”.

Your lips curved up and Simon could feel your smile burn through his eyelids. He didn’t even have to look to know the words had lit you up.

——

He was going to miss this. Everything. The softness of your skin. How your body laid next to his during the night, instinctively curling into him, his large arm laying heavy around your waist. The vanilla scent of your shampoo which always lingered on his hoodie. He’d never complain, he carried it with him for as long as he could, drifting back to you whenever he could. Simon tilted his head, glancing down at your beautiful face. He looked at you reverently, words escaping before he could force them back down, “Make me stay, love”.

He desperately wished he didn’t have to go back, wanting to stay here with you, wrapped up in thick cosy blankets and silken pillows, watching the world pass by.

Leaning up to him, you ran your soft fingertips over his lips, “I wish I could”, you sighed gently, “But I know you’re needed, it’s your job..I can wait, I’m not going anywhere”.

Tilting his face into your palms, Simon swallowed thickly, wishing to sink into your heavenly touches, “Love—I—”.

“Stop”, you pressed your forehead to his, noses brushing together delicately, “I know, Si—please don’t apologise, you don’t need to”.

“I do…I should be here with you”.

“Please stop”, you kissed him tenderly, lips melded to his, “I meant what I said, it’s ok—I understand, I always have”.

He let out a deep sigh, “You’re too good for me”.

“Complete bullshit”.

Simon laughed, the sound deep and husky. It wasn’t often he heard you swear. He was becoming a bad influence, his northern ways imprinting upon you. Your eyes sparkled when you giggled with him, the sound caressing his ears. He stared at you, just absorbing. Wishing to take the mental image with him on his next deployment.

He bent forward, nudging his nose along yours, “I love—”.

Before he could finish the sentence, you’d pressed your lips to his hurriedly drinking up the confession you’d so desperately wanted to hear. You’d take those words and carry them with you, always.

————

#simon ghost riley x you #Simon ghost Riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley smut #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x reader insert #simon riley x you #Simon Riley x reader insert #simon riley x fem!reader #Simon ghost Riley x fem!reader

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akazzzaa · 6 months

Text

The forbidden flower

Summary- You find the blue spider Lily.

Genre- Angst

Warnings-Implied death// threats// hurt// cannon divergence

Muzan

Muzan needed more pawns to look for the blue spider lilly. He decided that he might need to get a human to help him. He attempts to use you to acquire the Blue Spider Lily for him. He would employ various tactics, such as deception, coercion, or promises of rewards, to convince you to retrieve the flower on his behalf. Just like he does with everyone. Muzan is desperate to find a way to break free from the limitations placed on him.

But you found it. A stupid, mere little human. Found something that neither him or his strongest creations couldn't find. His guts turn and he cant stop shaking. He is desperate.

He may resort to threats and violence to ensure that he gets hold of it. He would likely stop at nothing to obtain the flower and achieve his goal of becoming immune to sunlight.

Muzan is a master manipulator. If he perceives that direct aggression is not working, he might resort to cunning and manipulation to get you to hand over the Blue Spider Lily willingly. He would exploit your fears, emotions, or vulnerabilities to achieve his ends.

The discovery of the Blue Spider Lily would likely install fear and panic to the demon slayers. Once word gets round that Muzan has the flower, it would lead to chaos and lots of death in his pursuit of ultimate power and the perfect body.

Kokushibo

Upon discovering that you found the Blue Spider Lily, Kokushibo's eyes narrow with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. He approaches you with a calm demeanour, concealing his true emotions. Being a skilled swordsman and demon, he might use his formidable presence to make you feel the weight of the situation.

Kokushibo inquires about how you came across such a rare and sought-after flower, probing for details about its origins and how it ended up in their possession. Depending on your response, he might become more intrigued or skeptical.

If convinced that the Blue Spider Lily is genuine and that you have the potential to be useful to Muzan's cause, Kokushibo decides to take the flower from you. His actions could range from forcefully snatching it away or employing a more diplomatic approach, perhaps trying to persuade you that handing it over willingly is in their best interest.

Douma

You triumphantly presents the blue spider lily, the air around Douma grows tense with excitement. His twisted grin widens as he gazes at the precious flower in your hands. Douma, always seeking amusement, might chuckle softly, his eyes gleaming with interest.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he would purr, circling the you with an unsettling grace. "You've found Muzan's elusive treasure. How utterly fascinating."

Your confusion and surprise would only fuel Douma's sadistic delight. He approaches with an eerie calmness, extending his hand to take the blue spider lily. "Do you know the significance of this, little one?" he'd taunt, his voice a low, melodic drawl.

Douma, ever loyal to Muzan, expresses a sense of reverence toward the flower. With a flourish, he would snatch it from your grasp, his eyes flickering with a strange mix of loyalty and madness. "Muzan-sama has been searching for this for centuries," he would explain, his tone dripping with reverence for their leader. "You've done well to find it. Now, let me take it to him."

Akaza

You excitedly presents the rare and elusive blue spider lily to Akaza. He cant help but just stare in shock. Akaza is intrigued by the potential power it holds and the prospect of aiding Muzan in achieving his centuries-long goal. However, the more he thinks about the significance of the flower and Muzan's relentless search for it, a conflict would emerge within Akaza.

Akaza's loyalty to Muzan is paramount, but his emotions and personal connections create inner turmoil. He struggles with conflicting feelings, torn between his allegiance to Muzan and the bond and connection he formed with you. The internal struggle is evident in his expressions and body language.

Ultimately, Akaza makes a difficult decision. His loyalty to Muzan overrides any personal connection he has with you. In a tense moment, he takes the blue spider lily from you, expressing regret and sadness. This strains the relationship between you, leading to emotional and dramatic consequences.

Hantengu (Main Body)

It was in your hands. Hantengu approaches you with a deceptive demeanor, pretending not to know the true value of the flower. He would feign ignorance or downplay its importance, trying to manipulate you into willingly giving it to him. Hantengu might use his ability to summon his clones to make you more compliant.

Once you hand over the blue spider lily, Hantengu would likely reveal his true intentions, expressing his loyalty to Muzan and explaining that he saw an opportunity to gain favour with him. He will then leave the scene, leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions.

Gyokko

How sublime. Gyokko swiftly appears before you. His eyes, typically filled with malice, gleam with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Gyokko, being aware of the significance of the blue spider lily, recognizes its potential to make demons able to walk in the sun, a trait that Muzan has sought for centuries.

Gyokko, with a sly and cunning smile, approaches you and calmly demands the flower. His voice, laced with a subtle threat, as he reminds you of Muzan's power and the consequences of defying him. Gyokko, confident in his abilities as a member of the Twelve Kizuki, might not hesitate to take the flower forcibly if you resists.

Gyutaro

As you presents the blue spider lily, Gyutaro's cold demeanour shifts momentarily. His eyes, usually filled with malice, widen with a glint of anticipation. The discovery of the elusive flower, the key to allowing demons to walk in the sun, is a revelation of immense significance.

Gyutaro, realizing the importance of this find, extends his hand to take the blue spider lily from your. His voice, usually cold and detached, might take on a more calculated and focused tone as he expresses the significance of the flower to Muzan Kibutsuji. He may explain that Muzan has been searching for the blue spider lily for centuries, and this discovery could be a game-changer for their kind.

While Gyutaro is known for his cruelty, his loyalty to Muzan is unwavering. In this situation, he would prioritize delivering the blue spider lily to Muzan over any personal feelings or attachments. You witness Gyutaro's dedication to Muzan's goals as he takes the flower, possibly with a menacing smile or a chilling remark about the consequences of crossing their leader.

Daki

Upon learning about your possession of the Blue Spider Lily, Daki will initially feign friendliness or interest, attempting to manipulate the situation to her advantage. She would use her charm and persuasive skills to convince you to hand it over willingly, perhaps even offering false promises or benefits in return.

Once she has the Blue Spider Lily in her possession, Daki would likely prioritize her loyalty to Muzan. Daki is fiercely loyal to Muzan, and he has been searching for the Blue Spider Lily for centuries, she would likely see it as her duty to deliver the flower to him. He will be so proud of her she can feel it.

Daki will betray your trust, revealing her true intentions and swiftly taking the Blue Spider Lily to deliver it to Muzan. This could lead to a tense and dramatic confrontation between you and Daki, as you realizes you have been deceived by the demon you thought you could trust.

#demon slayer #kny #kny x reader #douma x reader #akaza x reader #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #douma #akaza #kokushibo x reader #hantengu #hantengu clones #gyokko #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro #kny daki

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annikin-annotates · 9 months

Text

Lady of the Lake

Hi y’all! I’m so glad to be writing this for my dear kindred spirit for her 1,000 followers celebration! I hope you all enjoy the One Shot I’ve created using Hozier's Butchered Tongues as my base. Congratulations my dear @arcielee, you deserve all the love you receive, I hope this lives up to your expectations!.

Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglists!

Happy reading.

Pairing: Aemond x Siren!Reader

Word Count: 3,069 (Nice)

Warnings; Blood, mentions of death, thoughts of ripping Aemond limb from limb. Minors DNI 18+

Chosen lyrics; They are buried without scalp in the shattered bedrock of our home.

The lake had been covered in misty fog, its eerie tendrils dancing just above the surface of the water, if one looked close enough they could see water sprites at work. Humans believed that magic was gone from the world, but if they only looked a little closer they would see that it was still here, barely; like the final embers on a candle wick.

She lived beneath the surface of a pond, a safe haven under the ever changing waters of the stream that flows into it. It was always quiet in her small pond, the blue gills and catfish her only company. Though she would not say that it was entirely awful, it may be secluded and quiet but it was always safe, and being safe meant staying alive.

Trees twisted and wrapped their way around one another, strangling one another for a chance at seeing the sun, oh how she longed for the sun’s warmth. The dense dark green thickets surrounding the edge of the lake, pointed thorns dipping into the water, another reminder of the cage she had put herself in.

She slipped below the surface once more, sinking to the mossy floor, her head resting on a mossy rock, staring up at the underside of the lily pads. She spent the rest of her day hunting catfish and playing with the small water spiders that skimmed across the surface of the water.

She spent her night curled up in a patch of Hydrilla, its green tips making a space in the water. She stared up into the inky expanse and wondered what it was like above the surface. She wondered if perhaps one day, she too could walk amongst them. She had walked on land before, some centuries ago when she was only a girl.

Back when humans knew and respected the creatures that dwell out of sight, the rulers of nature. For a time they had lived in peace, silently walking amongst them, helping when needed, fighting in wars that were not ours, and aiding the sick with cures and magic long forgotten by mankind.

Somewhere along the path, we had become a threat, a danger to humans, they began to push them back into the woods and lakes, away from civilisations. Her mother was forced from her job as a maid in a keep not far from where she dwelled, it was not long after that, they began to cull them. All her family were snuffed out within a night, now all of them laid at the bottom of the God’s Eye.

All except her.

She shook the thoughts from her head, she couldn’t bear to think about it any more. She reached a webbed hand toward the starry sky, the rippled surface obscuring the true beauty of it. Her arm came to rest by her side, disturbing the sediment as she sighed, an air pocket travelling all the way to the surface.

Shimmering sunlight awoke her from her slumber, she sat up and stretched her arms and leant forward to stretch her back, the dorsal fin waying with the current. Perhaps today she would sun herself on the boulder in her lake, enjoy the sound of birdsong and they trickling water. The warmth of the flat rock warmed her cold flesh, her tail swishing in the clear water beneath her.

The sun had just begun to beam down into her pond, refracting different colours like light onto a thousand precious gems. She spent time braiding her hair down the length of her back, small river flowers delicately weaved into it. She hummed the melody of a song her mother used to sing to her when she was young, the same one she would use to lure men to their watery graves.

The sound of approaching hooves sent her beneath the water again, resurfacing in the safety of the water reeds. Directly across from her was a lithe man knelt by the running water of the stream, drinking handfuls of water. He was marvellous to look at, his deep green clothes and gold trimmed armour and his hair that looked like spun silver fluttering in the gentle wind.

A familiar primal feeling came over her, it was stronger than she had ever felt before: have him, have him, devour him, feast upon his bones, it chanted. It frightened her, but she followed the feeling, diving below the water once more only to look at him from between the reeds. She could see all the features of his face now, a strong chin and pronounced nose and eyes that glittered like amethysts in the sun. He was handsome, but she could taste the sadness permeating from him, the wish to be anywhere other than where he was, she empathised with him.

‘Come and find me,’ she whispered, edging him closer and closer to the water ‘Let me free you from your burdens,’ she cooed, watching him fall deeper and deeper under her spell.

He was within her grasp, she surfaced from beneath the water, scaled chest glimmering in the sunlight, a webbed hand extended for him to take. Their fingers ghosted one another, his hands were soft and warm while hers were cold and slippery, ‘Come to me, my sweet,’ she hummed melodically. She could practically feel her teeth sinking into his flesh, tearing him limb from limb, the thought sent her milky eyes rolling back into her head.

A woman with long dark hair grasped his shoulder, pulling him from her carefully laid trance, “You mustn’t venture too close to the water, my Prince,” she said firmly. By the time he had flicked his eyes towards the other woman and back to the water, she was gone.

“Why?” she heard him ask, standing from the waters edge, his eyes hadn’t yet left the spot where he saw her.

“Dark creatures lurk below the surface of these waters,” the woman replied, though the conversation had become less clear the further they ventured from the water.

The woman in the water haunted him for days after returning to Harrenhal, the word she spoke to him ringing in his ears, ‘Let me free you from your burdens,’ she had said. She was slowly consuming him, mind, body and soul, and he had no desire to break free from her hold. He would never forget the feeling of being lured by her, both horrifying and euphoric.

He saw flashes of her everywhere, peeking around corners, the melody of birdsong and in his dark haired lover. He saw her in the pursuit of his own high, chasing her from the recesses of his mind, Alys’ face slowly morphing into the face he saw below the water. Aemond could almost feel her talons ghosting along his skin, leaving rippling heat in its wake.

The feeling of fangs pressing against the column of his throat sent him into a frenzy of thrusts, his large hands guiding the body above him. The melodic song he had heard from her, guiding him like a boat through a tempest, had driven him over the edge. ‘Aemond,’ Alys moaned, though he heard only the melodic voice of the woman in the water.

He didn’t dare look up at her, instead he slipped from beneath her, choosing to stand at the windowsill, looking over the God’s Eye, wondering about her. Slender fingers and soft lips trailed over his shoulder and down his arm, and yet it did not stoke the fire that burned deep within him as it usually did.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Alys asked her nose softly nudging the nape of his neck, her hands never leaving him.

Aemond thought for a moment, “Yes,” he replied, a cold edge to his voice.

Alys pulled away from him, recoiling from the coldness of the response “I see,” she said, clearing her throat. “I shall leave you be, my Prince,” she continued, making her way to where her clothes lay. She dressed silently and left through the servants corridor, to remain unseen.

—

Muffled dragon cries woke her abruptly from her slumber, she broke the surface of the water, a panicked gasp tearing from her as she looked helplessly at the sky. She looked around her, as flickering embers and ash fell from the sky, she couldn’t stay here. Today would be the day where she would face her fears and leave the safety of her pond.

She heaved herself up through the bramble that surrounded her pond, thorns pricking and scratching her tender skin, half blind from the sun. Her legs wobbled as she took a few steps before breaking out into a stumbling run, similar to that of a newborn foal. She cried out in pain as she began to run, nothing good could come from two dragons warring above, she needed to clear out of the pond, she could return when it was safe.

The pain in her legs and feet was extraordinary, each log she cleared felt as though she was stepping on shards of glass when she landed. It was so loud, the overlapping shouts of soldiers, the clanking of armour and screeching of metal on metal, it was cacophonous; it reeked of self assured destruction. Every bone inside her wanted to turn around and leap back into the safety of her pond, but now wasn’t the time for hiding, it was the time for running.

She veered deeper into the forest, but something made her stop to look up at the sky, to the dragons wrapping themselves around one another. She turned away once more, determined to find some other body of water to bide her time, when an ear piercing screech sent her to a screeching halt. Her breath heaved in her chest, her lungs working overtime ‘He needs you,’ a pleading voice whispered.

It was enough to send her careening towards the waters of the God’s Eye.

The larger of the dragons was falling towards the lake, its throat had been ripped open, flames escaping the wound. If its rider was to stand any chance of living she would need to rescue him, humans didn’t live long once they entered her domain. She threw herself head first into its frigid waters, disappearing into its depths untraced. Her eyes only needed a minute to adjust to her surroundings once more, the world around her becoming a little clearer, and it would be any moment before that scaled beast would hit the water.

The crash was unimaginable, sediment and rocks flew past her as she braced herself by a sunken boulder, she could hear the sound of the heart drumming in his chest. It was now a race to find him before The Stranger did, she at the very least could follow his heart beat. She had no idea why she was putting herself in danger for a human who was supposed to be her next meal, she was designed to consume them - not save them.

She dove deeper and deeper into the lake, the sunlight filtering away, total blackness enveloping her. Though she could not see very well above the water in the sunlight, she could see perfectly in the dark. She did not dare look at the bedrock of the lake, in fear of discovering corpses she did not wish to see. She could see the roiling bubbles ascending to the surface and the immense heat emanating from directly beneath her, she wasted no time in diving again.

She very quickly discovered the corpse of the beast, resting peacefully in the bedrock, her rider still saddled. She stopped directly in front of him, watching his hands shake as he struggled with the chains. Malicious thoughts slithered into her head; she could feast for ages on both dragon and rider, she would have no need to think about the surface for a long time. It would be so easy, all she had to do was wait for him to drown.

No. He didn’t deserve this, at the very least she could unbind him and send him to the surface, what happened to him beyond that was not her problem. Against her better judgement, she rushed him, shoving his hands away from the ropes around his waist and ripping them away with her nails. He struggled and thrashed in her grip, using all his might to get away from her.

‘Stop struggling! I’m trying to help you!’ She hissed. He ceased his struggling immediately, having become sluggish and slow, the lack of oxygen finally taking its toll on him, leaving him weak and defenceless. Everything in her screamed at her to devour him, to gut him like a fish and swallow him whole.

A helpless groan left her as she threw his arm around her broad shoulders, heaving him up towards the rippling light of the surface. They wouldn’t be looking for his body yet, but she didn’t have long before they would be descending upon them, she’d be damned if she would die for a human. With one final forceful push of her tail, she was able to push his lithe body halfway up on to a secluded bank, her heartbeat thundering in her chest.

He wasn’t breathing. Gods, he wasn’t breathing!

With the last of her strength she threw herself up onto the bank, kneeling beside him; his heartbeat was there, but faint, she needed to work quickly if he was to survive the day. His body felt as though it was made of lead as she dragged him away from the water, the further away they were from the water, the less temptation there was.

He had taken water into his lungs, which meant she needed to get it out as soon as possible. She opened his mouth, placing her own on his, pulling the water from his lungs mouthful after mouthful, spitting it onto the lush grass. He had other wounds, cuts and scrapes but it was nothing she couldn’t use her magic to heal. With a final mouthful of water, air rushed into his lungs, sending him bolt upright coughing and hacking.

The movement sent her toppling over into the grass, where he descended upon her, blade against her throat. Her slender taloned fingers spread out across his face, daring to take his other eye.

“I saved your life, and this is how you repay me? By slitting my throat?” she asked, half daring him to do it, maybe then she would get some peace. His face seemed to shift in that moment, furrowed brows relaxed his clenched jaw loosening.

“You are right, I am sorry,” He replied, taking the blade from her throat.

The woman in front of him was full of contradictions, she was both dark and light, sharp edges and softness, terrifying and beautiful. She had almost lured him to his death one day and then saved him the very next. She held no fear in her eyes, even as he had held the blade to her throat, her beautiful, supple throat, he shook the thoughts from his head.

“Stop looking at me like you wish to swallow me whole, and let me heal you,” she bit at him, a gentle push sending him into the plush grass. She struggled with taking his chest plate, the leather straps far too finicky for her liking she took a sharp talon to the supple leather, slicing into it.

“No, leave me here,” he told her, trying to force her hands away.

“You will die if I don’t tend to your wounds!” she said through gritted teeth, pulling the chest plate away and straddling him, pinning his arms underneath her legs. Her hand hovered over the gaping wound in his shoulder, a calming blue light emanating from her palm. She watched the wound pull the deep red ichor back into his body, skin stitching itself shut, leaving no trace that there was ever a wound there.

I’d like to see his witch heal him in such a manner.

—

They took shelter in a cave deep in the woods outside Harrenhal, out of the sight of prying eyes and away from hands that would do them harm. In the time they had spent in the cave, she had learnt that the Prince's name was Aemond and that he was not one for conversation.

“I wish I could leave all of this behind,” Aemond whispered, his voice laced with pain and exhaustion. She sat cross legged across from him, a pleasant prickling feeling crawling up her legs from sitting in one place.

She tilted her head to the side slightly “Why can’t you?” she asked, her brows furrowed.

“I have a duty to my family, it's a matter of honour,” was the silver haired Prince's response, his jaw twitching as his arms came to rest across his broad chest. The dim embers illuminating the way his lip twitched upward as she leant forward, to press him further.

“Your family would rather send you to die than allow you to leave?” She responded, her voice laced with disbelief, she shook her head. It slowly became clear to her about what happened just hours ago, when he demanded she leave him to die. He had wanted that fate, he would have preferred death to failure.

Aemond pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice taking on an edge “It is about honour, as I said,” his response did not invite any further conversation between them. And for a while there was nothing but the crackle of logs on a fire and the sound of their breaths.

“Run away with me, it's not safe for either of us here. We can board a ship tonight and be gone by morning,” she offered, they could board a ship for Essos or Yi-Ti and never be found again. She would forsake the waters of her home for him, if it meant that he could live the life he desired.

“No,” was Aemond's immediate response, face contorting into a scowl. She was beginning to break down the barrier of duty and honour he had surrounded himself with, for without those virtues, what would he become?

She stood from her perch on a boulder, allowing the silk shoulder cape Aemond had given her to cover herself to slip away. Exposing the mounds and valleys of her body, the scales on her legs and cheekbones catching the firelight. “Come, My Darling. Please just give me your hand,” she cooed into his ear, running her delicate fingers over his shoulder and up the column of his throat, stopping to stroke his jaw.

And so he did.

Thank you to my darling @sylasthegrim for beta reading this! And creating the wonderful header/moodboard!

Please reblog my work if you enjoy it! it helps keep fan fiction alive <3

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