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thousandsun · 4 months

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My favorite client (Sanji x fem reader)

Warning:None

Genre:Fluff mostly

Words: 1.7K

Author's note:Watch me realize I know how to code in HTML and I don't need a site 💀

You are a marine,a powerful woman who lives for justice. After your last fight, with a crew of powerful pirates,your subordinates have gotten severely injured. That made you spend a few sleepless nights thinking about what you should do. Your doctors are barely holding up and your supplies are running low.

Finally,one of your most trusted men came up with an idea. "Ma'am?" He asked approaching you.

"Yes?" You turn to look at him. It's currently 1 am and the only thing that seems to be on your mind is your current problem.

"I found this map that indicates there's a sea restaurant. It's actually close to us" He remarked showing you the map, pointing with his finger at the destination.

Your eyes widen as you realize there is hope for your subordinates. You keep your professionalism on the outside as you reply to him in a calm tone "Then we're heading there."

The few men that seem to be alright gather to change the course of the ship. You make your way into your room. The moment you close the door,you feel tears in eyes,running down your cheeks. There is hope. There really is. You thought to yourself. You grew quite attached to your subordinates in the past years. You didn't want to lose them. You know it's wrong. It's wrong to care about those people so much. It's the marine,you are all destined to die for the government. You must accept it.

You lay down on your bed looking at the ceiling thinking,and thinking about everything.

The time flies by faster than you expected and the morning comes.

Of course you couldn't sleep all night. You are up,on the deck, waiting to get to the sea restaurant.

"We are expected to reach the destination in the following minutes,

Y/N-sama" The navigator informs you. You nod as you begin to notice the Baratie. You are the first one to step on the sea restaurant.

You enter the restaurant as some stuff welcomes you. "We need food. I have a whole ship,full of people, wanting to eat something. We have all the money you want" You hand him a suitcase full of berries. "I'll be sitting at one of the tables. Please bring me some food as well"

The man in front of you gives you a confused look. You choose to ignore it since you feel your stomach arguing with you for food. You take a seat at a table patently waiting for someone else to notice you.

A blonde man with curly eyebrows, wearing a suit notices you. His eyes are sparkling with passion. He quickly gets closer to you,to take your order and admire you,of course. "Good morning, mademoiselle. May I take your order?" His smile is brighter than the sun. He can't help but analyze you.

"You were fast to notice me." You remark. Your instincts are telling you not to trust him. Being a marine is tough,of course you can't just talk to anyone. Everyone can be dangerous. At least that's what the marine told you."Yes,you may,sir. I would like a steak with a salad." You reply politely.

He quickly writes down your order. He looks at your uniform and realizes that you're an officer. A beautiful and dangerous woman? Exactly my type. "So what's such a beautiful lady doing here,in this humble restaurant?" The blonde asks. Such a beautiful officer,like her, should have a private cook.

"Don't you ask too many questions for a waiter?" You raise your eyebrow giving him a cold gaze. "Know your place, waiter. I am not here to chat."

"Oh,my apologies, mademoiselle!" He turns around leaving her at the table. The waiter can't help but slightly bite his lower lip. Whatever was that,it was damn hot.

"Why are you smiling like an idiot,Sanji?" Patty,a muscular cook,with oversized forearms asks him.

"There's this beautiful beautiful lady sitting at the table 5!" Sanji makes a little dance out of excitement.

"Whatever. Just focus on the food." Patty easily gets angry, however he maintains his calm this time."We have a lot of people to feed. A marine ship stopped by. Those people are hella hungry"

Sanji takes a few moments to think about what Patty said. He realizes you were there for help. He realizes you're probably stressed out since your subordinates are starving. I'll cheer her up. I will bring her the tastiest food! I will sure impress her this way. He begins cooking. He chooses fresh ingredients for you. He pre-heats the oven so he will finish the steak faster. The blonde spreads the pepper,the salt and the garlic powder on the meat. He carefully adds the oil to get just the right amount. As for the salad,he isn't going to make anything easy.

You wait at the table thinking about your waiter. Maybe you were a little harsh on him. After all he is helping feeding you and your subordinates.

You sigh thinking about a way of returning him the favor. He was nice and trying to help,yet you were too frustrated to give him a nice smile.

Sanji brings the food to your table, waking you up from your overthinking. "Here's the food" He smiles once again.

"Right..." You look at him a bit ashamed by the way you behaved "Look,I am sorry. I have been really stressed and... I know I shouldn't have been so hard on you" The blonde lights up a cigarette. "Don't worry, mademoiselle. I don't get easily mad."

You're surprised by his patience. He works in a restaurant after all,he must have experience with rude clients. "Even so,I am really sorry. If there's anything I can do to-" He leans closer to you placing his finger on your lips.

"Shh. I said don't worry." You feel your cheeks burning. You nod,not being able to talk.

Sanji moves away his finger from your lips. "If you really want to do something to atone your mistake,you can come here again." He smiles giving you a little wink. "I'd love to see you here more often"

You finally realized what's happening to him. He has a crush on you. Unfortunately,you have always been lonely. You had no time for relationships since you were in the marine. "Sure" You smile back. You take a look at the food he just brought you. The way he carefully arranged the food makes the plate look bigger and tastier. You take a bite from the steak. "Oh! Wow!" Your taste buds are begging you to eat more.

Sanji sees your reaction and his eyes quickly filled with joy. "I love to see people enjoy my cooking. Especially you"

Your cheeks are burning again. You struggle to respond without stuttering. "My name's Y/N" You say hoping he doesn't see your red cheeks. Maybe changing the subject will help?

"What a lovely name." He grabs your hand kissing it gently."My name is Sanji" Of course he noticed how red your cheeks are,yet he seems to wonder how shy you can get.

You feel your heart beating faster. "N-nice to meet you..." You stammer out the response. As much as you try to focus on the food the only thing in your mind seems to be the man in front of you.

Sanji chuckles seeing you like this. He leaves you to eat your meal as he has to feed your subordinates too.

Soon enough,you visit him again and again. You find yourself seeing him almost everyday. You find yourself enjoying when he talks to you so passionately about cooking. You find his silly compliments heartwarming.

One day,you enter the Baratie, taking a seat at the usual table. Sanji knows this is the time you usually show up so he was there waiting. He comes up to you, with his usual bright smile "Hello! What can I do for you,my favorite client?" He asks excited to see you.

"Actually... I am not looking for anything to eat" You could see his expression changing from excitement to confusion. "When is your shift over? To maybe...test out my new ship?"

Sanji is surprised to hear you ask something like this."In 1-2 hours I am free."

"That's perfect!"

"Is this a date?" He couldn't contain his curiosity on this matter. He wants it to be a date. He has been craving your touch.

"I guess so" You smile feeling shy again. You get up from your table. "See you soon,Sanji." You walk away leaving Sanji burst out of excitement in the middle of the Baratie.

"Get back to work!" Zeff yells from the kitchen.

After Sanji finishes his shift,he waits for you at the Baratie, knowing you'll probably come pick him up. You show up in a small ship,one you purchased recently mostly for undercover missions. You invite him on your expensive ship. There is only one navigator that was instructed to not bother any of you.

The sea seems calm and serene. You two have the pleasure to see the sky's different shades of pink,orange and yellow of the sunset. The sun looks like it's about to fall asleep, leaving the moon to do it's job.

"What a beautiful sunset" Sanji remarks gazing at the sky."Yet,it doesn't compare to your mesmerizing beauty" He grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him. You blush hearing his compliment. You gaze into his beautiful eyes noticing the love for you overflowing from his gaze. He has so much love for you that he can't keep it for himself,he needs you to feel it,to feel it all. "May I steal a kiss?" He can't stop thinking about your lips. You don't reply,yet the answer is in your eyes and he sees it. As he leans closer to you,his warm breath caresses your face. Finally,his lips are against yours.

The sun rays are gently hugging your figures, warming you and Sanji just like the passion running through your bodies. You brush your fingertips on his left cheek.

#anime #luffy #monkey d. luffy #nami #nico robin #one piece #one piece franky #one piece luffy #one piece manga #one piece nami #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji #one piece sanji #cutty flam #franky #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy

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elijahslittleprincess · 11 months

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can you make headcanons about yandere klaus mikaelson x fem human reader

Yandere!klaus mikaelson x fem Reader headcanons

So this is a request made by @catmikaelson20 its my first headcanon ever so be nice haha enjoy.

Before you started dating, Niklaus wasn't that bad. He for sure knew he wanted to have you for himself and that you were destined to be his only but he wasn't really showing his obsessive and a bit psychotic side to you. ( Not that he wasn't stalking you and killing the man that was trying to get your attention away from him...) He just didn't want to scare you off so he just spoiled you with gifts and tried to hide his creepy side to show by showering you with affection and care.

However, when he finally confessed his feelings for you and you actually reciprocate, well things got very different.

You both started dating and faster than you could realise Niklaus was full on yandere with you.

You had no liberty anymore, you had to stay with him at all times. I mean...you couldn't even get to the bathroom without him and at first it scared the shit out of you.

You wanted to get out with friends, he needed to come with you. You needed to get to the grocery store, nope he would send someone else's to get it for you.

You were like the Red Riding Hood in the forest and Niklaus was the big bad wolf chasing you and never letting you out of his sight.

Niklaus was the epitome of jealousy and possessiveness. You belonged to him and him only for all eternity.

He trusted nobody when it came to you, not even his own brother Elijah to be around you without him. You were way too perfect and adorable for a man to resist you and he wouldn't risk it.

I mean what if you get attracted to this man more than him and he steals you away from him. What if you decide you are annoyed and tired of his obsessive behaviours and run away from him.

What he does to people he catches looking at you or touching you~ Well he kills them of course but not a fast and unpainful death. No he makes sure they suffer and die slowly for daring to look at his princess.

Niklaus is EXTREAMLY!!! clingy. He is always touching you and always has a hand on you. On your hips, your lower back of he's just holding your hands to make sure you are forever at arms length of him.

He's not afraid to show who you belong to, to others. Actually he loves it. It often happens that he kisses you hard and passionately in front of people that seem to have an interest in you. Sometimes he even likes to make you moan a bit by touching you or by biting your neck to give you some Hickey's and marks.

You have a really active sexe life because Niklaus always craves you and want to fuck you his. He love to smell himself on his little girl and when he fuck you he make sure your covered by it. He's you alpha male and if any other werewolf gets close to you they'll know who you belong to.

He asks to drink of your blood often because he is addicted by the taste of it and it is making him crazy to go without it for too long.

Even if you don't have 100% of your liberty, you could ask him for practically anything and he'll give it to you. I swear this man is your number one fan and he wants to make you the happiest he can.

Niklaus is protecting you from every threat and menaces. He'll never let anyone hurt you, ever and if by any miracle someone succeeds in doing so, well he's a dead man walking.

He asked the whole mikaelson family to be there for you if you needed and to protect you so, your pretty much safe.

Niklaus loves your humanity, yet he feels like he won't have you for himself forever so sometimes it trots in his mind to turn you. He'll give you the choices however and make sure you're feeling good and in security all along the process.

He absolutely heals any pain or injuries you have with his blood and he doesn't want you to ever suffer when he can keep you from it.

He cares and loves you with everything he is no matter if you're mad at him or pissed sometimes because he is too much for you. Klaus will always make sure to do everything he can to calm you down and bring you back to your loving and affectionate self with him. Anyway, you never stay mad at him for long.

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heliads · 6 months

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everything is blue • conrisa space au • Chapter Nine: Stay Whole

Risa Ward escaped a shuttle destined for her certain, painful death. Connor Lassiter ran away from home before it was too late. Lev Calder was kidnapped. All of them were supposed to be dissected for parts, used to advance a declining galaxy, but as of right now, all of them are whole. Life will not stay the same way forever.

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Connor is used to the routine. It keeps him sane. It keeps him whole. He wakes in the morning and he sleeps in the evening. The schedule may be arbitrary, oriented around a central sun somewhere light years away from him as required by Coreworld standards, but it makes sense. Connor has just enough energy to get through his day without dragging, and when he closes his eyes each night, he’s so exhausted that he can travel through the dark hours in mostly dreamless sleep. The repetition is clinical. It keeps him grounded, or as much as it can when he’s locked in a tin can stuck somewhere in space.

Connor tells himself that having each day be damn near identical is good for him. He believes it at least half the time. When he’s stuck trying and failing to get various ship systems to function properly for the billionth day in a row, the message is a little harder to get across, but it’s better that Connor sees it through than not. He and Risa celebrated one year since their arrival in the Graveyard last week, so it’s not like his blind hatred is really going to do anything to get him out of here any faster.

After all, it may be a little bit mindless, going through the same day over and over again, but at least it’s safe. Out there in the never ending galaxy, there are always new turmoils and bigger troubles. Connor isn’t actively running for his life. Hiding is more efficient, and you die at least twice as infrequently.

At this point, Connor is pretty sure that he could do the whole day in his sleep. He wakes, he eats, he tells Risa to have fun in the med wing so he can see that adorable glare she gives him every time. Connor waits in the crux of the corridor in which they part ways so he can watch her go until she disappears out of sight, and then he turns and goes his own merry way towards the engineering sector. Once there, he’ll toil among stardust or spanner wrenches until the day is done, stopping only for a quick midday meal before throwing himself back into his latest project.

Finally, Hayden’s voice will sound over the ship intercom system, announcing that the day’s work is over. Then, and only then, can Connor join the teeming mass of other Deadmen to get the final meal of the day. No one likes lingering in their workplace longer than they have to, so the corridors are always a sprawling mess of kids going every direction so long as it’s away. Even still, Connor manages to find Risa in mere moments every time. No matter how many distributes are surrounding them, each and every day Connor turns around to spot her instantly across the crowd. It’s the easiest thing in the worlds, somehow. Finding her. He knows her like he knows himself.

And so Connor has become accustomed to the cycle, the cycle that never ends. He gets up and he gets older. He’s taller, maybe; he’d like to think so, at least. He told Risa that once and she told him he was kidding himself, like she knew better. He’d asked her why she would be such an expert on his appearance and she just blushed and looked away. Connor has hopes as to why that happened. They’re probably not true, of course, but what else are hopes for except to want too much too fast?

The little things, the offhand conversations, make the days better anyway. Connor knows how to fix the parts and walk the halls, but the people change from day to day, they always change. Sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. But they’re always different.

Connor reckons he can tell the good differences from the bad ones. He’d know it in a flash, probably, like a spy from one of those old action movies he used to love as a kid. A man in a dark suit, walking into a room, pausing to whip off his sunglasses and announce ominously: Someone’s been here. I can feel it.

Connor thinks he feels it now. There’s an unsteady lurch to the recycled air pumping out around him. Connor’s fixed it up enough times to recognize the hum of the beaten motor inside. It’s working fine, though, so that’s not it. Maybe the lights– are some out? No, the glow is steady, if a little dim, but that’s just because they’ve been running on reduced power for a month or so now to try and conserve supplies. Connor thinks, and then– and then he knows.

The Graveyard is quiet, and it is the quiet more than anything that tells Connor it’s finally over. He’s had a long and varied history with trouble, and after several offenses, Connor recognizes the pattern as it repeats itself. It’s quiet first. It’s always quiet first. The quiet makes you let down your guard, and that’s when they strike. Always. Even now, on a cruiser in the outer reaches of space somewhere not even Connor knows. Things will always end the same, and they will always end badly.

(Later, he will find out that they used signal cloakers, which had the added effect of not only muting their presence to any Graveyard scanners but also beginning the preliminary shutdown of the Graveyard systems themselves. The quiet can be explained scientifically, but that does not change the way it felt, nor the fact that Connor should have known it was coming. There is no hiding from Them. Even if you run from the shuttle destined for a distribution colony, even if you spit in the eye of the Collective with your little contraband radio show, even if you’re the starsforsaken Akron AWOL himself, you’re still a filthy unwind, and that means They’ll always find you. He knows this. He thought he could be the exception anyway. Everyone does.)

The Graveyard is quiet, and the Graveyard is doomed. Connor slinks into the corridor outside, a wrench slack in his hand from where he’d been trying to fix up an old recirculation unit in the back of one of the engine rooms. He wanders aimlessly for a little bit, not sure what he’s looking for, just that he needs to find it. It, which he will recognize when he sees it.

Connor turns a corner and then he knows. He freezes in place in front of a large window. The glass is dingy with the faded dust of asteroids that disintegrated in the empty space around them decades ago, if not centuries, but the panel is still clear enough that Connor can still see through it to the score of warships outside. Their exterior lights aren’t on, not yet, in fact, they’re still pulling off their camouflage settings so they can ripple into view, but Connor has spotted them anyway, and he knows what they are even without the extra identification. This is the Collective. This is the end.

The shout that rises from his throat is louder than anything Connor has heard before, guttural and emanating from deep within him. “They’re here!”

At first, no one responds, and then the first kid pokes his head out a nearby door, looks at Connor then past him through the window, and his eyes bulge like he’s been strangled. “Juveys!” He shouts, and then another kid appears behind him, and another, and another.

The message spreads like wildfire, and then a thousand footsteps echo in the hallway, a swarm of synth-bees leaving a burning nest. Maybe Connor shouldn’t have done it like this, maybe he shouldn’t have caused a mass panic, but he figures everyone should have as much time as they can to put their lives in order and prepare for the worst. If he had kept his mouth shut, someone else would have looked out the window soon enough anyway. It might as well have been him to end their world.

Connor pauses for one last moment, drinking in the sight of his soon-to-be killers, then remembers himself and tears off down the hallway towards the nav center. It’s slow going at first, as he pushes through crowds of terrified distributes, but then they clear up and he can run again, forcing himself to go faster than he ever has before in the name of trying to do something, anything, to delay the inevitable.

The nav kids are pacing back and forth, and they all flinch when Connor throws open the door. One of them starts to ask timidly what the fuss is about, but Connor cuts him off, fighting for breath even as he spits out the words.

“Juveys outside,” he gasps, “At least a dozen ships. Too many for us to fight. We have to go.”

Even as he says it, Connor knows it’s pointless. There’s no way in sunfire this ship can move. It’s become bloated with temporary fixes to constant problems, continuously smoothed over just to break back open again. With this many kids on board, with the fact that it hasn’t been used to actually fly in decades, the chance of it moving more than the length of one teenager lying down is abysmal.

The kids exchange nervous glances. They know it too, don’t they? There’s no way any of them are making it out. “This thing hasn’t tried to fly any distance since before we got here,” one of them starts nervously.

“Well, it’s this or distribution,” Connor says, and the color drains from their faces. “Try anyway. We have no other choice.”

They spring to attention, hurrying to the banks of controls in front of them. The oldest, clearly the one in charge, flicks several switches, calling out directions to the others. They all work with urgency, good for them, but even their focus won’t be enough to convince what’s essentially a self-contained colony to make a jump between star systems. Nothing can save them. Not even hope.

After several failed attempts, the leader looks up, shaking his head sorrowfully. “We don’t have enough power from the engines. Nothing we can do.”

Connor lets out a particularly vicious string of swears. “Thanks for trying, though. I mean it.”

The leader takes a hesitant step towards Connor. “What do we do, then? If we can’t move?”

Connor feels sick to his stomach as he takes in the expectation in the faces surrounding him. Even after facing the truth that they cannot fly away, that there are more than a dozen fully stocked warships of Juvey-cops surging ever closer to them, these kids still think that Connor can come up with a master plan to get them all out alive and intact.

“Why do you think I would know?” He asks bitterly.

A girl next to him lifts a shoulder. “You did it before, right? You got away from the cop back in OH-10. You’re the Akron AWOL.”

“That was one guy,” Connor says desperately. “And it’s not– Look, there’s nothing I can do against that many cops. Get as many kids as you can into the escape pods. If they leave before you can get on one, hide. Maybe they’ll pass over you.”

It sounds absurd even as he says it. There are escape pods on the ship, but not enough, not nearly enough, and there’s no way that the Juvey-cops are going to let anyone go. They’ll be scouring this ship for weeks. No kid can hold out that long. They’re just kids. Just kids who wanted to be alive. What a terrible crime indeed.

Connor is saved from the burden of having to watch their expressions crumble when the entire ship shakes. He nearly loses his balance and has to cling onto a nearby table to stabilize himself. Other kids who weren’t as light on their feet go sprawling, joining the debris on nearby desks in an untidy mess on the floor.

There’s a brief hissing from the intercom system, and then a grown man who definitely isn’t Hayden starts to speak. “This is Officer Reed of the Juvenile Authority. On behalf of the Collective, this ship is now under our control. Come out quietly and no further harm will come to you.”

The man’s cool tone does nothing to assuage the fear on the faces of the distributes around Connor, obviously, because despite his promise that none of them will be harmed, they’re still definitely going to get distributed after this. The other kids stare back at him, and Connor takes one last moment to memorize their faces, the way this room looks, because odds are he’s not going to see it again.

“Run,” Connor repeats urgently, and throws himself out the door and into the hallways, which are even more chaotic than before. He’s got to get to Risa, got to find her first. Once they’re together, they can figure something out. They always do.

Connor forces himself through throngs of people. The crowds are becoming unmanageable as so many Deadmen realize that they really are, at last, about to die in every way that a person can die bar one hypothetical exception. His feet are trampled about a dozen times in a second, and when a hatch at the far end of the hall opens up to reveal the silhouettes of rows of Juvey-cops ready to board their shuttle, the insanity only becomes worse.

Suddenly, everyone’s pushing and shoving each other in an effort to get away. Connor tries to keep his head above the fray, but he’s continuously pushed back and down. He might get pulled underneath if this gets any worse, but just as he has this terrible thought, someone reaches through the crowd and yanks him to the wall of the corridor, out of the way of the main surge.

“Thanks,” Connor gasps.

Glancing up, he realizes that Hayden was the one to save him. He frowns. “What in the worlds are you doing over here? The ComBom is on the other side of the ship.”

Hayden just sighs, gesturing for Connor to keep moving. “I was called away about half a standard hour ago so I could help some of the security kids. They said they picked up some strange readouts overnight and they couldn’t figure out what they were. Someone thought they were from my show, but it wasn’t me. I think someone else sent out a broadcast behind my back, but they weren’t too good at keeping their tracks hidden.”

Connor’s stomach drops. “You think that’s how they found us? Someone tried to reach out a little too far?”

Hayden’s face is ashy even in the weak light of the crowded corridor. “I recognized the signature, Connor. It was from the ComBom. Maybe even from my computer. It wasn’t me, though. I swear it wasn’t me. I’m always careful.”

“I believe you, man,” Connor assures him, but on the inside his mind is abuzz with this new information.

If not Hayden, then who? None of the kids in the ComBom would be stupid enough to send out any broadcast without thoroughly vetting it to make sure it wouldn’t give them away. It would have to be someone else, someone who was less familiar with the equipment so they wouldn’t know how to keep everyone safe. Someone who maybe didn’t even care about keeping the rest of them safe so long as they could send out their message and really stick it to the man. Someone who would have learned just enough about how to work the radio systems through word of mouth, or, for instance, eavesdropping in a hallway while Hayden talked to Connor and Risa about it.

“Starkey,” Connor gasps out in the midst of a thunderous realization, “It was Starkey. He must have heard us talking. Damned runners are always trying to learn all our secrets. He listened in and thought he could one up your little show with his own message.”

Hayden swears, although half of it is drowned out with the calamitous roar of the warships surrounding them. A kid is screaming somewhere behind them, yelling bloody murder like they’re actually distributing him on the spot. Connor doesn’t dare turn around to check if they are.

“Gotta be him,” Hayden agrees, yanking Connor down a nearby hallway so they can start to shake the crowd, “None of my guys in there would have done something so stupid as that. We always checked what we sent out to make sure it couldn’t get traced back to us. Always.”

Connor risks a glance towards his friend and feels another wave of grief wash over him at the sight of the look in Hayden’s eyes. The blond boy has always been upbeat, always quick to a joke, but right now, he looks totally destroyed. Even if Hayden wasn’t the one to send out the one transmission that led the Juvenile Authority to the Graveyard, it was still done on his machines, in his precious ComBom. It may not have been his hands to reveal them, but it was his fault nonetheless. Months, if not years, of being careful, of never letting the Juveys know where they are, and it’s all over now for Starkey’s one bright, bold moment of fame. What a way to go.

Something rocks the Graveyard again, sending both boys tumbling against the corridor wall. “Must be the nav kids trying to get us moving again,” Connor says, wincing as he prods a quickly forming bruise on his hip. “I told them to run, but there’s nowhere for us to go. They’re doing the best they can.”

“I can help too,” Hayden breaks in. “The ComBom is not far from here, I can get on and try to tell kids what to do.”

Connor shakes his head. “That’s a pointless risk. It’s chaos in here anyway, a few directions won’t save anyone. The soldiers are going to go for the ComBom first, you know that. You’ll get caught in seconds.”

Hayden’s mouth is a thin grim line. Connor wonders how it could have ever smiled before. “I have to, Connor. Let me make this right.”

Connor wants to persuade him otherwise, but he knows it’s a lost cause. Hayden will never forgive himself for letting that one transmission pass by him. If he thinks staying behind will make things right, who is Connor to take that from him?

“Alright,” he says at last, “But stay safe, Hayden. Make it to one of the escape pods. Promise me that. The galaxy needs more Radio Free Hayden.”

“Don’t I know it?” Hayden cracks wryly. A ghost of a grin flickers over his lips, perhaps the last one he’ll ever get, and then he takes off down a nearby hallway and is gone for good. Connor has no idea if he’ll see the blond again. He hopes to the stars themselves he will, and not in parts of someone else.

Having lost Hayden, Connor’s main priority will now be getting to Risa. He runs along, dodging around the madness surrounding them. The nav kids are trying to pull away from the Juvey-cop shuttles, but making the Graveyard move at all is a hopeless cause. Every bit of energy directed to the engines, every inch they crawl along, just serves to tear the cruiser apart from the inside out. The lights are flickering more than ever, and smoke is starting to fissure out of some of the vents as he passes by.

The destruction is only aided by the Juveys. They’ve swarmed into the corridors by now, dragging kids off to their ships. The Deadmen are putting up a fight as best they can, grabbing parts of pipes and wrenches to use as weapons, but there’s nothing they can do against that much firepower. Connor catches a glimpse of one officer aiming a tranq gun at one of the older kids who used to guard the Admiral. The kid dodges and the blast goes into a nearby instrument panel, sending up a shower of sparks.

Each pull of a trigger sends Connor’s heartbeat to new, dizzying levels. When he passes a girl unconscious on the side of the hall, he drags her to safety. He checks her face at least five times to make sure she’s not Risa, but even after he keeps running, Connor is not entirely sure that he hasn’t just abandoned her by accident. The roar of sound around him makes him dizzy, unable to think clearly. He’s going to get himself killed if he doesn’t– if he can’t–

A hand on his arm. Connor whips around, ready to fight off a soldier, but it’s her, it’s Risa, and he can breathe again. Forgetting himself for a moment, Connor clutches her to him, one hand against the back of her head, another pulling her close. For this one brief and glorious instant, he’s got her tucked against him, he can hear her heartbeat, cool as ever, against his own, and he thinks that he might just make it out alive.

A round of gunfire too close to them makes him startle away again. Even still, he can’t stop himself from looking over her constantly to make sure she’s not injured. “You’re alright?” He asks.

Risa nods, although she looks a little shaky. “For now, at least. We have to get out of here, the Juveys are everywhere.”

Connor sees no problem with that. As if he’d just heard them, the intercom system crackles to life above their heads and Hayden’s voice rings out like an avenging angel. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Graveyard, it’s been an honor to live with you. I want to invite you all to get on the escape pods located along the southern and eastern edges of the ship. I hope we see each other again soon, and until then, stay whole. Hayden, signing out.”

He’s gone in another loud rush of static, and thus the Deadmen are abandoned to their fates. “He said it too late,” Risa mutters sadly. “Most of the pods will be gone by now. There aren’t nearly enough for everyone.”

“I know,” Connor says back. It’s all he can do. “Let’s hurry over now, though. Maybe some will still be there when we arrive.”

Distributes are disappearing by the second. Connor yanks kids out of the way of rogue tranq shots as he goes, but he can’t go up against the soldiers teaming up in groups of three or four to pull Deadmen down the corridors and into their awaiting ships. There’s nothing he can do to fix this, but that does not stop the relentless surge of guilt from boiling in his chest.

“Wait,” Connor says, skidding to a stop as a terrible thought occurs to him, “The Admiral. We have to get the Admiral.”

Risa shakes her head sorrowfully. “He’s a traitor to the Collective, Connor. They won’t be giving him a stern talking-to or something like that. We can’t help him any more than he can help us.”

Connor’s mouth feels dry. “That’s why we need to get to him, though.”

Risa looks away. “Connor. It’s too late.”

He follows her gaze back down the corridor to see a squad of Juvey-cops breaking down the door to the Admiral’s office. There are shouts that turn into a terrible, drawn-out scream, and then the resounding bang of one final gunshot and everything turns quiet again. Risa was right. It was too late, and now the Collective has taught a lesson to the Admiral and anyone within their ranks who thinks about trying to save kids from distribution: take them away from their fates, and they’ll deliver you to yours faster than you expect.

The squad appears in the doorway again, scanning the corridor in an almost mechanical motion, and then one of them spots Connor and Risa and points, “There!”

The cops start to run in their direction, which is all the goading Connor needs to stop wavering and start moving again. He grabs Risa by the hand so they don’t get separated in the chaos and they take off, moving as fast as they can despite the chunks of debris now littering the floor. Everywhere around him, Connor hears terrified yells, the shattering of equipment. It’s carnage out there. No one’s getting killed, but kids are vanishing anyway, dragged into the bowels of the Juvey ships.

Everyone here thought they could escape distribution, but this is the grim reminder that no one ever can. Some ferals have spent years on this ship. They probably thought they could make it, but no more. Never again will they be stupid enough to dream of survival.

As they draw closer to the eastern edge of the ship, Connor picks up the pace. The number of kids has dramatically increased, and Connor can see fights breaking out not just between distributes and Juveys but among the Deadmen themselves. Kids who used to be best friends are shoving each other to the ground in an effort to make it to the few remaining escape pods.

Even from here, Connor can tell that they’re running out fast. “Down here,” he blurts out, pulling Risa into a side corridor, “We can cut around to the back edge of the sector. Maybe there are still some left.”

They race down the corridor, pausing briefly at the end so Connor can tap into a control panel and check on the status of the escape pods. Judging by the rows of blanks, most are gone, but there’s still two left on the very end, single seaters that have been neglected by the rest of the kids because they’re just far enough out of the main thoroughfare so as to avoid detection by the stampedes of desperate teenagers.

The two of them duck around a corner, rejoining the sector with the pods. Connor can make out the bays for the two remaining pods; they’re hidden in a shadowy crevice of the sector, but still there, and that means there’s still a chance for them to make it out alive.

The rest of the sector is in chaos, but Connor isn’t looking. He’s got tunnel vision now, able to think about two things and two things only: one, the escape pods, still waiting in their bays, and two, Risa’s hand on his, reminding him that she’s still here, still with him. That’s all he needs. All he’s ever needed. He has lived two lives in the past sixteen years, first a child in a home that was never truly his and then this, now, a runaway distribute with a girl who wanted him like no one ever had. If he wants to survive, he’ll have her. He has to have her.

They skid to a stop in front of the two pods. “You first,” Connor says, opening up one of the pods and helping her inside.

There’s just enough room for one person to sit, but they’ll be able to follow each other down to the nearest planet surface, plus the comms systems should be functional, so they can talk if something goes wrong. The engineers have ensured that the escape pods work properly, there are mandatory checkups every month, so there’s no issue there. They just need to get in, that’s all, but they’re already here, and no one has noticed them yet, so it should be fine.

Once Risa’s in her pod, Connor reaches in to help fasten her in. She allows him to set up the nav system, but once he tries to do much more than that, she bats his hands away. “I can figure out the rest. Get in,” she tells him.

He manages a half smile. “So bossy.”

She rolls her eyes, but her returning smile is taut with nerves. “I’ll let you complain all you like once we’re out of here.”

Connor nods and pulls away, but before he can access his own escape pod, there’s a loud juddering of machinery and large chunks of the ceiling start to rain down, sending metal panels tumbling to the ground. Connor hits the floor immediately, rolling away just in time to dodge a particularly sharp section.

The sharp tang of copper fills the air, but other than a few mild scratches, Connor’s not hurt badly. The same cannot be said for everyone here; several of the teenagers who were fighting over the few remaining escape pods earlier are lying motionless on the ground now, crushed beneath chunks of steel. The kids they’d been fighting with stand over their bodies, horrified, then rush back to the pods, now with significantly fewer defenders than there had been just moments before.

Risa cries out in fear, and Connor doggedly pulls himself up. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he mutters, although from the way his head is ringing, that might not be entirely true.

He’ll have time to sort out his injuries, though. If you’re going to strand yourself in the farthest reaches of the galaxy, it’s not a bad thing to have an expert healer like Risa out there with you. He just has to get into his pod, and then he can slump against the seat and try not to pass out before he lands.

Connor forces himself to his feet, and his vision is so spotty that it takes a few moments for the black dots to clear from his sight, and a few more seconds after that to come to terms with what he’s seeing. Or, more specifically, what he isn’t seeing. Connor had been able to dodge that chunk of the ceiling panel that had come so close to killing him, but the pod hadn’t been able to move, and it had been thoroughly wrecked.

Escape pods are meant to take a wide variety of blows, all part of space travel, but that’s when they’re sealed off from the elements. This one had been open and awaiting a passenger, but now it’s only host to a smoking pile of metal, which has sliced cleanly through the control panel that controls both nav systems and life support. There’s no way in all the worlds it can fly anymore, which means– which means–

Which means Connor isn’t getting out of here anymore. Risa leaned out of her seat to see what he was looking at, and the second she sees the sparking mess of what was supposed to be Connor’s ticket out of here, her face crumbles to pieces.

She starts trying to stand up and get out, but she’d already fastened the harness, and her hands are shaking so badly that the clasps refuse to undo themselves. “No. No. Connor, get in here. We can both fit. It’ll work out. We can still both make it.”

Connor shakes his head. “They’re designed for one passenger. We’ll run out of air.”

Risa glares at him, but the tear tracks on her face ruin any impression of hostility. “If we suffocate, at least we’ll be together. Don’t you leave me, Connor. Not after everything.”

Connor doesn’t realize he’s crying until his hand touches his face and comes back wet. “It’s okay, Risa. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” she argues. “None of this is okay. We were supposed to make it out. It was supposed to be us.”

Risa finally manages to get the harness off, but Connor slams his hand onto the control panel outside the pod, locking the door shut. Risa pounds her fist against the glass, but this, unlike the interior of Connor’s escape pod, was designed not to break, and it holds firm.

“Thank you,” he says over the thunder of her fists on the hatch, “Thank you for everything, Risa. Live your life, alright? Make it a good one.”

He presses another button on the escape pod, shutting it off from the ship and beginning exit protocol. Once the pod seals, Connor can’t hear her anymore, can’t tell when her screams turn to a broken, pleading goodbye except by watching her lips. The pod finishes disengaging from the ship and launches itself into space. Connor watches Risa pull away from him, and then she’s gone, and Connor is on his own for the first time in more than a year.

He rocks back on his heels. This is it, then. This is how he goes. He turns to a nearby control panel and repeats what he’d done before to check for any more pods, just in case, but only turns up blanks. All of the escape vehicles have launched, and there are no more shuttles or smaller ships on the cruiser. Everyone left in the Graveyard will die or be distributed. A ghost of a memory in his head, a laughing voice: which is worse?

Connor still isn’t entirely sure of the answer, but he doesn’t have to decide now, he doesn’t. He can still hide. Connor is great at hiding. He’s done it for the last year, and even if they’ve found the Graveyard, the soldiers won’t know every last nook and cranny, not like he does. They won’t risk blowing the cruiser to pieces either, the explosion would probably incinerate their ships as well.

An idea is blossoming in Connor’s head, a terrible death wish born of this last twist of fate. Connor begins moving again, walking then running towards the engine room. The ship is tearing itself to pieces at this point, unable to stand against the combined threat of the guns of the Juvey-cop warships outside and the nav kids’ unsuccessful attempts to fly away. Several times, Connor attempts to head down one corridor only to find it blocked off by mountains of rubble.

He keeps having to dodge Juveys, but they’re easy enough to shake. The cops are moving slower now, taking their time. They know there’s nowhere any of them can go. It’s like trapping synth-rats in a rotting house. The floorboards can be burned away, the carcass of their hideaway ripped to pieces. The vermin will always be found.

The engine room is worse off than anywhere else in the Graveyard. Connor has to fling an arm over his mouth, instantly doubled over and coughing on the fumes. Something’s leaking, maybe fuell, which doesn’t bode well. Connor is here to hide, but his hiding space shouldn’t kill him, too.

No Juveys linger in the engine room. They’re cocky, but not that stupid. The whole ship is tearing itself to pieces, the last place anyone rational would go is the room with the power sources. If the engines were to stall and implode, the subsequent reaction wouldn’t just tear the Graveyard to bits, it would take out those warships, too, and every soldier of the Juvenile Authority on board. No one wants to mess around here, which makes it perfect. All Connor has to do is lie low long enough to wait out the cops, even if it takes days, and then crawl out long enough to send a distress signal. He can figure this out. He can still make it.

Pulling the neck of his shirt over his nose and mouth to avoid the bite of the fumes, Connor plunges further into the engine room. All of the overhead lights are out, leaving only the beeping pinpricks of the panels near the engines themselves. The machinery in here is massive, practically the entire height of the cruiser. Connor climbs up the precarious structures in search of a spot no one will look at. At least if Juveys come in here, he can see them coming and try to avoid their gaze.

Just as he has this thought, a silhouette appears in the doorway. In the darkness of the engine room, Connor can’t make out if they’re a kid or a cop. If it’s a Juvey, Connor can probably run before the soldier drags him off. There’s no chance of remaining hidden since the guy obviously followed him in, but Connor might be able to give him the slip in these shadows.

“Just a moment, officer,” Connor shouts, still squinting to make out details on the guy’s face, “I don’t want to be locked away quite yet. Give a guy a few more minutes of freedom, will you?”

“I’m not a cop,” the stranger chides, and Connor feels his body start to lock up.

The boy stalking into the room certainly isn’t a cop, he’s Roland. Somehow, some of the last few Deadmen left alive on the cruiser include himself and Roland, and of course the older boy has taken it upon himself to track down Connor. What a great use of his last moments whole.

“What do you want? A friendly conversation before we’re both dismembered?” Connor asks, moving even more frantically than before.

“I don’t want to talk,” Roland drawls, and Connor swears he’s halved the distance between them in the time it took to blink. Connor can barely hear the guy moving over the clanging of the machinery behind him, which isn’t good.

He peers over the lip of the structure he’s on and sees Roland clambering up the machinery after him, eyes locked in blind hatred on Connor’s form. “What’s your plan, Connor?” Roland shouts up. “Going to hide until they went away? Like that’ll work.”

“It’s this or distribution, you tell me which is worse. I can pull this off, have some faith.” Connor calls back, but his voice wavers.

Roland cackles, sensing the hesitation in his voice. “Are you sure? Do you really think you can outsmart an entire army of Juvey-cops? And either way, are you just going to ignore every other kid they’re dragging off out there? I thought you really cared.”

Connor scoffs, still backing away down the narrow walkway surrounding the machinery. He swears the thunder of noise from the hall outside is getting louder, but maybe that’s just the panic setting in. “It’s sweet of you to care about my conscience. What, do you want to team up and stop all of our little friends from dying?”

“I’m not interested in their deaths,” Roland spits, “Just yours.”

Connor wheels around again, panicked, just in time for Roland to strike him across the face. Connor slams against the control panel, which probably does more to sabotage the ship than any of the chaos from before.

Roland’s face is barely recognizable in the dark. Connor can only make out harsh planes of his countenance as Roland looms over him. “This is our last shot, Connor. I’m taking you out before I go. Consider it revenge.”

Oh, this is bad. This is bad. Connor flees, but already reeling from the collapsing ceiling in the eastern sector, plus the punch, plus the darkness, he trips almost immediately on the thin railing of the walkway and bites it.

Roland laughs somewhere above him. “On the ground already? And here I thought you were a fighter.”

“Stop talking,” Connor grimaces, one hand rising to clutch at his aching head while the other helps push him up and off of the floor.

Roland, surprisingly, does as told, and the walkway rattles as he heads towards Connor again. The older boy swings again, but Connor manages to duck this time, and he hears the whoosh of air moving as Roland’s fist glides through empty air.

It occurs to Connor now that Roland is just as blind as he is. Neither of their eyes have adjusted yet, so even though Connor is struggling to see a thing, Roland is no better off. He surges forward, knocking into Roland, and manages to drive a fist against his nose.

Roland yells, crashing backwards into the railing. Connor can taste blood in the air again, so it must have been a good hit. When Roland speaks again, his voice is funny, so maybe he even managed to break a bone. “Oh, you’ll pay for that, starspawn.”

Connor readies himself for another blow, but instead of aiming another punch at Connor’s shifting silhouette, Roland grabs something from his belt. The faint light from the beeping buttons on a nearby instrument panel casts just enough light that Connor can see the glint of a metal barrel in his hand and he realizes with a sickening lurch that Roland is holding a gun.

“Now you’re not the only one to have shot a Juvey with his own tranq,” Roland hisses. “I grabbed a souvenir too. Only, this one isn’t a tranq. I got the real deal.”

Connor’s eyes widen in the dark of the engine room. He had wondered if Roland would have the stomach to actually kill him, but a shot in the dark wouldn’t take as much guts. All this kill would require is the pull of a trigger, and anyone with flighty reflexes can do that.

Connor flings himself backwards, scurrying further into the darkness. If he could just shake Roland long enough to get away, if he could just get out of range of that awful gun– The weapon goes off, sending a bullet flying off the walkway and into the endless shadow below them.

“Careful with that,” Connor scolds, “These engines are on the verge of blowing up anyway. One bad shot and you’ll kill us all.”

“I’ll hit you next, not the engines,” Roland threatens, and gives chase once more.

Connor peers back over his shoulder when the footsteps on metal stops, and it registers that Roland can’t run and fire the gun at the same time. If he pauses, it means he’s readying to shoot again. Connor flings himself down, feeling the smooth chill of the metal walkway against his cheek. Seconds later, another bullet flies overhead, but this one doesn’t go off towards the ground. Instead, it whistles towards the overheating engines, punching a hole in several of the connective pipes as it goes.

“You idiot, you’re going to blow this place up,” Connor yells.

This only serves to give Roland a better idea of where he is in the shifting blackness, and another round shoots by, even closer than before. This one doesn’t just strike pipes, though, it goes directly into the roaring machinery itself. This one is bad.

Connor has about half a second to understand just how bad it is before the explosion begins. It’s that one moment of silence, again, in which it all ends. Connor has just enough time to wonder how he keeps getting so close to finding his way out just for another sour twist of fate to take it all away, and then the engine behind him ruptures and Connor loses track of the walkway beneath him. All is open air.

Roland is falling too, he thinks. They collide midway through the descent. Roland’s grip on him is heavy, impossible to escape. A voice by his ear, hot and guttural: “If I die, you’re dying with me,” and then the explosion consumes them both and Connor can’t think about anything else.

The engines of the Graveyard are unusual. The Deadmen in charge of maintenance have taken to outsourcing power as much as they can in an effort to maintain the central engine system as long as possible. Some power comes from solar panels, others from various electrical and chemical systems throughout the ship. The engines, though, make up most of it. Derived from hugely capable power cores, they keep a behemoth like the Graveyard functional even decades after it was initially created.

They’ve also been suffering from extreme wear for far too long. This means that bullets shot through the regulators will finally allow the pent up energy to expand quite rapidly, triggering a reaction that could consume the entire engine room in seconds flat. It wouldn’t just be a typical fiery explosion, it would be laced with nuclear remnants and quantum particles. It would melt the very divisions between elements. In the case of two boys falling together, some of their limbs and organs would separate during the first onslaught of radiation and then reattach almost instantaneously. Most of that would be done correctly, but mistakes might be made here or there.

Mistakes, for instance, like a genetic mutation, an arm recoupling with the wrong person. A boy loses a shark tattoo and another gains it. An arm for an arm, a life for a life. When they collide with the ground, one dies on impact and the other survives. Some time later, when the radiation has sufficiently cleared away and soldiers can be sent out from scout ships to survey the wreckage and collect bodies, they’ll find that the boy they were looking for, the one they were specifically directed to collect, somehow stayed alive. The very explosion that destroyed the Graveyard has used the other boy’s life force to keep this one alive.

They pull him out and put him in a medical cubicle to heal quickly. Even still, they won’t be able to solve the mystery of why Connor Lassiter’s right arm is no longer his, but of all the worlds to struggle with someone having pieces that aren’t theirs by birth, this is the most welcoming. If you think about it, it’s kind of like the universe decided to distribute Roland’s arm to Connor during the supernova of the exploding power core. Someone bigger than any of them out there in the galaxy knew that it would be more important that one of them stay alive, that Connor keep that piece of Roland. Something knew that the reshuffling of body parts would be necessary. Isn’t that what Connor has been fighting all along?

Ah, well. He’ll have plenty of time to grapple with that when he wakes up. If, of course, he does.

a/n: sorry for the delay, i have been super stressed with the engineering workload. technically, this is posted at 11:45 pm so it's still thursday right haha? anyway i hope you enjoyed and none of you are worried about our guys!!

unwind tag list: @schroedingers-kater, @sirofreak, @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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omoricandyrestart · 28 days

Text

Prologue: Collateral Damage

“I have to tell you something”

That’s how it all started. That’s what lead Sunny Suzuki to be where he is now. Lonely and friendless.

6 years ago, that boy had basically everything. He had an elder sister that loved him, two parents, and a group of irreplaceable friends. That’s when is life used to have meaning.

But then, he made a big mistake, and now… his sister is gone. His father left him, his mother lost his guard and, after learning the truth, all of his friends left him. How could he judge them, though? He was a monster.

Monsters didn’t deserve to have friends. They deserved to be alone and miserable, drowning in their own regrets.

And that was the state he found himself at. Alone and miserable, on a bus whose destination was unknown to him.

Why was he in said bus? The authorities, after finding out his unhealthy state, and the lack of proper homeschooling, decided that his mother was unfit to be his guardian.

Now, he was going to leave with his godmother… a woman that he barely knew. And worse, she lived on a town that, although was close, he never heard of.

Any other teen’s head would be filled with questions and expectations for this new life. How would this new school be like? Will my new house be big? Will I meet knew and cool people there?

But Sunny didn’t have any strength to do that. All he had enough energy to do was using the bus’s fogged up window to write ‘sorry’ on it.

He inclined on said window and felt fast asleep, hoping that the travel would pass more quickly.

______________________________________________________________

When he opened his eyes, though, he noticed he made a big mistake. He was on a black void, filled with destroyed objects, and remains of his coping fantasy.

Sunny knew exactly what that meant, and flinched in worry.

“No! It can’t be! NO!” the boy screamed, desperate to run away. However, it didn’t matter how much he tried, because he was trapped by spider webs.

When he looked forward, he saw that something was there.

“No! Please! Not Anymore!” he begged and shouted.

“I love you” something said, slowly approaching.

“NO!” Sunny repeated.

“I love you” something repeated, starting to move faster.

“NONONONONONONONO!” the boy exclaimed in fear.

“ILOVEYOUILOVEYOUILOVEYOU” something yelled, dashing forward.

“NO!” Sunny exclaimed, waking up in horror. When he looked around, he noticed that he was still in the bus, and sighed in relief, knowing that he managed to run away from blackspace, for now, at least.

“Attention, passengers, we have arrived in Little Doux. Be prepared to grab your bags” the passengers were warned.

Finally, he had arrived. Considering how little he was bringing with himself, he packed it all on one backpack that was already with him.

Considering that the bus was basically empty, since not many people wanted to go from Faraway to Little Doux in the middle of the night, it didn’t take much for him to leave it.

When he left, there was still more to do. He needed to search for his godmother… and he didn’t even know how she looked like.

“Sunny, HELLO!” an energetic voice exclaimed.

When the boy turned around, he flinched, because it seemed like he was on another nightmare, because a woman with a bright pink hair and an unnatural smile was running into his direction.

He wanted to run away, but this woman was way faster than him, and she managed to give him the tightest hug he ever received.

“Oh, my beloved godson, look how much you have grown! You were just a baby back when I had seen you!” the godmother said, glad to see him.

After a while, she noticed that the boy would probably die if he didn’t breath soon, so, she let him go.

“I know I am probably a bit late. I just finished dying my hair pink. It looks lovely, doesn’t it?” the godmother asked, still as bubbly as before.

All he could think, though, was on the girl with pink hair that now hated him with all her heart.

“If you say so” the boy with black hair stated on an emotionless tone. It seemed like his godmother wasn’t affected by that, though.

“Anyway, now that I am here, I am going to help you with all your bags!” she exclaimed, ready to help him.

“It’s all with me already” Sunny spoke. An awkward silence sprouted between them.

“Well… in that case, let’s get going! I am crazy to show you the house!” the godmother exclaimed, dragging the boy out of the terminal.

______________________________________________________________

It seemed like his godmother was like a hurricane. Intense and with immense strength.

The way to his new house was really uncomfortable. His godmother bombed him with questions about things he liked, his friends, possible girlfriends, the scar on his cheek (the knife ended up on his chick, not eye. The boy already went through a lot, give him a break, please)… but, all he did was giving quick answers or nodding.

“Oh, look over there, my beloved godson, we have arrived!” the woman exclaimed, pointing to the house that was right in front of the car.

Sunny was left gaping at the size of the house. It was WAY bigger than any house he had seen in Faraway. It seemed like his aunt was pretty rich.

“I know it’s nothing special, but, I hope you feel welcome” the woman said, downplaying her own home.

They left the car, and the woman guided him to the inside. Sunny was even more surprised after seeing that, from the inside, the house seemed even bigger!

Then, she brought him to his room, which was on the second floor, leaving Sunny glad that he managed to overcome his fear from heights not so long ago.

“I tried my best to make you feel welcome. If you have any complains, don’t hesitate in talking to me about it!” Farah said, opening the door to Sunny’s room and turning on the light.

The room was, just like the rest of the house, amazing! The bed was enormous, the wardrobe was spacious, the desk had the newest computer on it, and there was a brand new cellphone on his bedside table.

He immediately ran into the device’s direction.

“I heard that you don’t have a cellphone, so, I bought you one! You know, in case you need to talk to me in an emergency, or text your friends!” the pink haired-woman explained, beaming with joy.

Sunny grabbed the cellphone and hugged it immediately, overjoyed at the new gadget under his possession.

Then, he noticed that a brand new shirt, paints and beret was laying on his bed.

“What is this?” the boy asked softly, passing his hand through the shirt.

“Oh, it’s for tomorrow! You need to arrive on your first day of school with style!” Farah stated.

Sunny immediately frowned in worry, something that his godmother noticed.

“I know that new starts leave everyone nervous, but, you have nothing to fear! Sweet Amoris is a lovely school filled with lovely people!” the godmother declared with a smile.

“Besides, you won’t be alone, because my niece will be having her first day at school with you! And I already asked her to be nice to you!” the pink woman revealed, filled with excitement.

Sunny, though, only got more anxious by this news.

“She is such a lovely girl, you know. I am sure you both will hit it off very quickly… you both might even fall in love!” Farah suggested, basically imagining a romantic future for this two people who didn’t even know each other yet.

“I am sorry, godmother, but, I am not looking for a romance…” Sunny answered coldly, while trying to hide his blush.

It seemed like his godmother was unfazed by the statement.

“Oh, my dear Sunny, love is not something you ‘look for’… it’s something that blooms when you are least expecting” Farah spoke, winking at her nephew.

The boy remained silent, though, since he knew that nothing would convince the woman otherwise.

“Well… now, if you don’t mind, I need to finish the dinner tonight. Not wanting to brag, but, I am an amazing cook! Hope you like pasta!” Farah said, leaving the room while giggling.

When she left, Sunny immediately set on the desk’s chair, and grabbed a sheet of paper that was on his backpack. Then, he opened the cell’s box and turned it on.

“Come on… come on… I need you” the boy said to the phone, desperate to use it.

It was not as easy, though, because there were some steps that he had to go through before being able of actually using the gadget.

As soon as he finished this phases, his cellphone was finally ready to be used.

The first thing he do was on the number dialer, and started to type one of the numbers on the sheet.

When he was about to call it, though, he froze.

‘For your own good, it’s best if you forget that we exist!’

It didn’t matter how much he wanted to talk with his old friends. How much he wanted to beg for forgiveness, ask for support with this change, or just simply hear their voices.

It didn’t matter because THEY didn’t want to talk to him. He was alone, and no amount of denial or despair could change that.

With no other options, he put his newly gained phone on the desk, and started to cry.

All he could do from now on was to focus on his future… a future that he couldn’t enjoy, because he felt like it would never be as great as his past…

...or would it be?

#omori #omori au #sunny suzuki #omori sunny #omori fanfiction #my candy love #fanfiction #omori my candy restart

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cherryjuicegf · 2 years

Note

thanks darling this poem is so beautiful!! this is like an alternative way for the last wish to work, i hope you enjoy ♡

wc 488, mild body horror

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in] - e. e. cummings

She runs her fingers through her chest, a spell, and takes out her heart.

It's a beaming little thing as it lies between her hands and she shows it to him, and Geralt looks. "To make sure," she says, almost a confession if it wasn't for the blatant one of the heart beating faster, competing to show the truth first. "To know you'll never leave me."

Geralt looks.

Her thin fingers gleam with bloody magic dripping on the ground and the heart seems too big, and the space it leaves in her chest even bigger.

He cannot keep it safe. He's not one to stay safe.

Maybe he could, for her. Maybe, to make sure he never leaves her, because she has been alone for too long, and to make sure he doesn't take her with him. But how could he ever, when destiny stands like a creeping shadow behind his shoulder?

Her eyes are huge and violet under the moon, under the fire. The woods are laughing at him.

He shakes his head, staring at the heart, at the way it beats. "Yen," he whispers, pleads. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. "You don't want this. I know you." She seems to smile and he grows desperate, so desperate. "I can't keep it safe, Yen. Are you not afraid of fate?"

Lub-dub. Lub-dub.

She does smile, at last. A bitter thing, a loving thing. "What fate, you fool?" It's beating, bloody, true. "It's all you. It's all yours."

Slowly, gently, she reaches for his hands and places the heart between his palms, trembling, red. It looks so small in there. So heavy.

As though returning to its destined place, the hole in her chest starts to heal.

He parts his lips to protest, to beg. But she catches the words off his tongue. "I'm choosing this. Despite everything. Even if it breaks, I will have chosen this, do you understand?" He does. She knows he does. "If you die," she says, "let me die with you."

A lump in choking his throat. Gods, it's so unfair. And yet damn him, he cannot refuse her anything. "What if I don't want you to die?" His voice is shaking. One last attempt.

Because he cannot let her, he cannot lose her, he cannot die knowing he deserves to have company even then. Knowing he is so unbearably loved.

Yet Yennefer looks at him steady and, fingers laced in his, closes his hands around her heart and lets him devour it, own it whole. "I am a selfish woman, Geralt. Let me be selfish in love too."

He can't reply, even if he wanted. She shuts his lips closed with a kiss, and parts him open, and his chest is suddenly heavier, but he knew. He always knew.

The pleasant burden that is love, the most beautiful of all.

When they part, and he opens his palms, the heart is gone.

The blood remains.

#mmm that was something #the witcher #yenralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt x yennefer #prompt fill #chrysa writes #fic recs #maureen tag #mild body horror #fluff #poetry prompts #something-more

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starlitwinter · 4 months

Text

XVII

Days of pure bliss passed for the two lovers. Harsh words and actions forgot for sweet whispers and promises. Nenlissë separated her time between Teivel’s home and Arafinwë’s castle. Nobody knew about their engagement, nobody had to know was what Teivel put in her head. A secret, just between the two. Theirs.

Nenlissë was caught up in her happiness to see the signs, the future arriving faster than she would think. One think was on her mind, or rather two. Teivel and marriage. How happy would her parents and family be when they’ll learn the news, she thought, how magnificent her life is going to be with the love of life. Was she wrong to think that? To believe that? Who knows?

—

The elf was satisfied with the situation. Everything was going according to what he had planned. The human, his human was sleeping beside him.

“So naive” he whispered, brushing her hair out of her forehead. “You don’t realize how much you’re helping me, lovely girl” he smirked before looking up to the sky.

“Isn’t funny, father? How she fell for my spell. How I made her my pet before you would use her as your puppet. I won this battle, father. And watch me won the war.”

He gave a last smile to the sky before his gaze fell on Nenlissë as she stirred awake.

“Did I wake you up, beautiful?” he whispered with a smile. Nenlissë shook her head, her eyes fixed on Teivel’s face with an access smile. “Not really…” she replied, softly turning around to lay on her stomach, her head resting on Teivel’s chest. The elf wrapped an arm around her torso and kissed the top of her head.

“Something is bothering you.” he stated. It wasn’t a question but an affirmation.

She looked up at him before sighing. “I don’t think I’ve been entirely honest with you, Teivel.”

He raised a brow “Oh really? Tell me, then.” His voice and eyes were a bit stern, but his actions weren’t, as he rubbed in circle Nenlissë’s back.

“Before… we met. I feel of a tree and was in a comatose state for around a hundred years. You know that.”

-I does

-During… my unconscious state… I saw Eru.

-Eru? You met Ilúvatar?!” he exclaimed, surprised, his thumb stopping their circles on her skin. Nenlissë looked at Teivel with a smile.

“I did.” she sighed “Maybe… maybe you would like to see what happened?” she proposed, purposely opening her mind and memories to the elf.

Teivel smiled contently and didn’t waited a second before intruding her mind, having been granted full access to her memories.

He suddenly frowned. “It seems like I can’t access to your memories… from after your fall and before you woke up. As if something or someone blocked them.” He opened his eyes “Maybe then you should tell me what happened.” Nenlissë nodded before beginning her tale.

“I had to… die. To reach the caves of Mandos, but Eru… told me my time had not yet come.

-He did, did he?

-Yes, he did. He half-explained that it was because I hadn’t realized what he had planned for me. I’ll bet I got mad at him then.”

Teivel let out a chuckle, " Mad? Sweetie, you… oh my goodness… you’re incredible.”

Nenlissë looked at him, somewhat surprised. “You’re not angry that I was upset with your Creator? Your God?” Teivel shook his head “No, no, of course not. It’s just… amusing that you stood up to him. He needs it. To be contradicted.” He chuckled “You stood up for your own destiny. You should be able to make your own choices, my love.

-I am? I thought every being were destined to a path Eru had made for them?”

“Of course not, darling. You are different. You are not like us! You are not from here, you can make your own choices about your life! And I am one of those choices. With me, you are better. We complete each other, love” He gently pressed a kiss to her lips but leaned back before she could reply to it. “Continue love” he ordered her softly, a hand rubbing her back.

“Well… I didn’t had more interactions with Eru. I woke up after that.” Nenlissë saw’s eyebrows knit together as he suddenly lost interest in the human. His eyes grew a little colder than usual and Nenlissë could feel him shift to put some distance between them. The young woman panicked, feeling her lover slips through her fingers and her dream of a peaceful life with the elf began to shatter under her eyes.

“But there is something else.” She blurred out, reaching to grab Teivel’s hand. “There is something else I need to tell you.

-What is it,” the elf asked, barely glancing at the human.

“It’s a secret only Manwë is aware off.”

That little bit of information pick his interest and he suddenly changed his demeanor, squeezing Nenlissë’s hand and interlacing their fingers together, smiling warmly at her.

“Really? What is that secret?” he asked, now profoundly curious “I am not… from here.” the human muttered. Teivel’s smile flattered. “Of course I know that, silly. It’s not a secret.

-No, what I meant is… that I’m from another world. I am not a child of Eru. Not from here.”

Teivel tilted his head to the side “Not from… here? What does that mean?

-In my… universe, this world is fictional. A man named Tolkien wrote it.

-So if I’m getting this right… In your universe, I’m not real.”

Nenlissë nodded. “That’s right. So…therefore… I’m aware of the future of Arda.”

Teivel’s eyes were like stars, his full attention on his fiance. “The future? You know the future?”

Nenlissë hesitate “Well… the future without me in it. Without me making modifications to it. In my world there is something called the ‘butterfly effect’. It’s when someone in the past change something that was supposed to happen and it change the future. It can have catastrophic consequences.”

Teivel just nodded before kissing Nenlissë’s lips “But you are to be my wife, you can tell me anything. I’m your shoulder to lean on, to tell every single thing that bother your little human mind.”

He kissed her temple “I am your freedom, lovely girl.”

Nenlissë just looked at him for a few seconds before sighing. “I am afraid of one thing.” She muttered.

“Tell me” Teivel whispered in her ear like a snake.

“It’s… something horrible is going to happen to the Trees.”

Teivel hugged Nenlissë, hiding his face to her by kissing the top of her head but she could almost feel his lips form a smile but she brushed it off.

“Melkor… Melkor and… a giant spider named Ungoliant are going to destroy them. And this horrible event will make fall a lot of elves into madness.”

Teivel stayed silent for a moment before kissing Nenlissë’s forehead “Unfortunately, I don’t think you can do something to prevent that, love. As you said, changing the future could have catastrophic consequences.

-I know… It’s just… so much people are going to die because of that. Maybe even you! My family is going to destroy them self…

-But you can’t do anything” He said again, kissing his lips “You seems tired, my love. Stop overthinking and sleeps. Tomorrow we will talk of happier things. We have a wedding to organize” He tease her with a last kiss.

Nenlissë simply smiled at him before closing her eyes and letting herself go to sleep under the victorious gaze of her lover.

—

“You seems to be glowing those last days, Lissë” Her mother pointed out during one of their stroll in the garden. “Am I?” Nenlissë smiled more “How so?” Eärwen posed one of her hand on the human’s shoulder “Well you seems happier than you ever been. Is it because of Teivel?”. Nenlissë just smiled more, a light blush covering her cheeks at the thought of her fiance. “You could say that.” Eärwen raised a brow “Is there some… news you would like to share with your dear old mother?” The elf glanced down at Nenlissë’s stomach. The woman followed her mother’s gaze and instinctively posed a protective hand on her empty belly. “No! No, it’s not that.”

Eärwen gave her a suspicious look “Then what?

-I’m… we’re…. We’re fiance.”

Eärwen stopped in her tracks “Fiance?”

Nenlissë just gave her a smile “Yes, fiance. He… proposed to me a few weeks ago.”

“That’s… amazing! Congratulations!” Eärwen beamed with pride “I’m so proud of you, Lissë, that’s awesome! Do you have a date in mind?”

Nenlissë laughed with her mother “I don’t know yet. But he wants for it to be the earliest possible.” She giggled like a maiden.

Eärwen smiled at her daughter’s joy. “That have to be before the high feast in Valimar.”

Nenlissë suddenly stopped in her tracks. “The… High feast?”

Eärwen nodded “Exactly, in around two month from now, we’ll celebrate Eru in the Halls of Manwë and Varda.

-In two months?!”

Eärwen just chuckled at her daughter’s reaction. “Do not worry, my Lissë, we can manage to arrange your wedding in less that two months.”

Nenlissë was frozen, the reality of her situation finally coming to her and she was beginning to panic. Eärwen seemed blind to the human’s state and continued to talk about the incoming wedding.

“Maybe in a month? If we call for a seamstress now, your dress would be done in time. We’ll obviously do the ceremony here.”

Nenlissë took a long inhale before giving a smile to her mother and cutting her in her ramble.

“I’ll talk about that with Teivel. As soon as possible.”

Eärwen smiled more before asking. “Will you stay here tonight? Your father and siblings miss you”

Nenlissë looked up at the sky and replied. “I think I’ll stay for dinner. It’s been quite a time since I last stayed here.”

Eärwen took her daughter’s hand and led her back into the castle. “And there is a guest you’ll be delighted to see” The elf added with a wink.

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rpxgifs · 8 months

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[ abigail cowen | she/her | 19 ] rumor has it that ARIA CORDEAUX has been seen wandering around town. they are a WITCH/WEREWOLF who is one of the SURVIVORS. they are known to be DISPUTATIOUS but deep down they are MAGNANIMOUS. when it comes to the brewing conflict in new orleans they’re on the side of THE MASQUERADE.

name: aria nova cordeaux nickname: ari age: 19 birthday: september 12, 2009 species: witch/werewolf hybrid gender: cisfemale pronouns: she/her sexuality: bisexual hair color: red eye color: blue family:

grayson danes (father)

cordelia cordeaux (mother)

raven cordeaux (sister)

cameron cordeaux (uncle)

tara kenner (”aunt”)

casper kenner (cousin)

ember kenner (cousin)

wesley cordeaux (uncle)

sierra cordeaux (aunt)

maddox cordeaux (cousin)

kennedy cordeaux stefanie salvatore (cousin)

logan cordeaux (cousin)

riley cordeaux (cousin)

winter edelman (aunt)

chris edelman (uncle)

carter edelman (cousin)

juliana cordeaux (grandmother)

history:

Growing up in California, Aria’s life was anything but normal. She born to a werewolf father who was destined to be alpha and a witch mother who survived a crazed city with an even more crazed coven and had a witch/werewolf hybrid sister. But their parents tried their hardest to make sure that the girls grew up with as normal of a life as was possible.

That was until they started to tap into their powers and really experiment with magic. Cordelia taught the girls as much as she could. But the two of them began excelling faster than she could teach. Aria put up one hell of a fight, wanting nothing more than to stay in her own little bubble in California with her family. She was happy, she was comfortable. But her parents insisted that it was the best thing for her, to be around other witches, to learn from the best.

It was nice being around her cousins, seeing them more than once for a couple weeks in the summer. But that was about it. Aria studied enough to make it through her classes and fly under the radar of any overly concerned teachers. She was surviving. That was until the one night that Casper practically dragged her out of her bed, forcing her to socialize and go to a party.

Aria was completely out of her element, staying away from the crowd, until a nice blonde witch came up to her and started making conversation. She had seen him in classes before, but she hadn’t talked to him. She barely knew is name. small talk didn’t come easily for the redhead. But for some reason, between the two of them, the conversation easily flowed. It was without a second thought that she was talking and laughing.

From that night on, Aria was like a completely different person - a person that she hadn’t been in a long time. Not since she left California. Austin brought out the best in her. She began excelling in her classes, becoming stronger. But the world came crashing down around her that summer when she took a human life while surfing. It was an accident, one could argue that she wasn’t at fault. But it couldn’t be denied. Her curse was triggered. She was officially a hybrid. She feared that her transition every month would change her. She feared that it would scare Austin away. But each full moon, Austin was sat outside her cell and was there the next morning.

Aria’s life was good. She was happy. She was powerful. And then she had a ring from the most perfect man who loved every bit of her, even the broken bits. She had everything she could have ever asked for. But, just as it had once before, when she truly began to feel happy and comfortable, the universe had other plans for her when her mother, her sister, and herself were sent away by Grayson in an attempt to save them from the fate that he was about to suffer when a group from his pack attempted to overthrow him as alpha and he subsequently lost his life.

Though her family had settled in New Orleans, she was riddled with guilt for essentially leaving her father alone to die. She felt as if she could barely make it through day-to-day, let alone care about any sort of supernatural war going on around them. Her goal for every day was to get out of bed, to manage her grief. If she was able to do anything else, it was a win in her book.

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50shadesofjayden · 9 months

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Ghost

I saw somebody post the general idea for this during pride month. For the life of me, I can't remember who actually posted the idea, so if anybody can remember, please let me know so I can give credit! Summary: Billy and Steve meet six years after Billy "died." TW: mentions of Neil, mentions of death, brief mentions of HIV/AIDS, OOC Billy

Steve hadn't seen Billy since that night at Starcourt Mall. He, like everybody else, was told Billy had died that night. It never crossed his mind that Billy wouldn't have actually died. He saw the injuries. He had seen Max mourn, watched as Neil left her and Susan and both of their spirals that followed. Vecna had even shown Max a version of her stepbrother that wasn't real. Everyone believed Billy had died that night. Maybe Vecna was back, and he was back in the upside down. Steve tried to ignore the lights and louder sounds around him to see if he could hear the clock chimes. The only thing he could focus on was Billy's laugh echoing down the hallway.

Steve didn't even know where to go. Down the hallway wasn't much of a destination, yet somehow, his legs were taking him exactly where he needed to go. Room 1312. He couldn't force himself to enter the room and didn't need to. He was right there. Billy Hargrove was standing right in front of him. His hair was longer, and he was skinnier than when he last saw him, but he still had the muscles Steve remembered. He looked lighter in a way he couldn't place his finger on.

"Billy." It sounded like his own voice, but he didn't remember actually saying his name. Billy's head turned to him. A smile Steve hadn't seen before was etched across his face. It looked real. Now, all the smiles he had known seemed fake or forced.

"Harrington! What are you doing in San Francisco?" Steve frowned at Billy. He was nice? Sure, it was a sentence at most, but there was no malice, no anger, and he wasn't taunting him? Even when they had fooled around, Billy was always one to keep his guard up by teasing. Maybe this really was Vecna. But Vecna was cruel. If this was Vecna, Billy would be taunting him, telling him how he let him die alone, left him in the upside down when they went to get Eddie and Dustin, didn't look for him and how he moved on from his life with Billy. So, maybe he was a ghost? Steve wasn't really sure.

"School? Robin and I moved here for school." His eyes moved up and down Billy's body again. His go-to wifebeater was red this time, and his jeans were as tight as ever, making his ass look even better than Steve remembered. It looked like Billy. More than that, he looked real.

"Harrington, are you okay?" Billy's head was tilted, and his eyes were narrowed. For a split second, he saw a flicker of judgment flash across Billy's face. That was more like the Billy he knew.

"Are you a ghost?" Steve hadn't meant it to come out like that, especially not here.

"Kinda a fucked up question Harrington." Steve's heart sank. Hearing and seeing Billy had made him forget about where he was. He had forgotten he was in the AIDS ward. It wasn't the best wording.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know, trying to make a joke for Landon. Not much to laugh at anymore." Steve nodded, trying to peer in more without invading their privacy. The man Billy was visiting was about their age, maybe a few years older. He didn't want to speculate, but a part of him jumped to thinking maybe this was Billy's boyfriend.

"Right. Uhm, I. I'll see you around maybe, I don't want to impose." Steve felt awkward. How could he forget where he was? Steve had begun walking away, mind racing faster than he could walk. Everything he had known had done a 180 in a matter of 3 minutes. He hardly heard Billy's voice and didn't hear, let alone comprehend what the blonde said.

"I'll see you later."

Tan liquid swirled in front of him. His spoon stirred his tea absent-mindedly. How the hell was he alive? He was thrilled. Billy was alive. His Billy, not flayed Billy. Well, maybe not his Billy. At one time, he had thought he would have been his Billy if things kept going the way Steve had planned. But he had lost his Billy to the mind flayer. Or apparently not? He didn't know. His mind was racing in 1000 directions, and none led to a conclusive answer. Each direction led him to scold himself for walking away from Billy without even giving him his number.

He wasn't even able to visit with Xavier properly. Steve met him on one of his many attempts to get over Billy. Obviously, it hadn't worked, nobody had. But he had gained a very close friendship. So when his friend had told him he had AIDS and didn't have much time left, Steve had vowed to visit him on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He'd have to make up his day later this week, maybe even bring Robin along for an extra apology. Xavier and Robin got on like siblings. They annoyed the hell out of one another, but he knew Xavier would appreciate them both being there.

"Harrington." His head snapped up. Billy was towering over him. "Can I join you?" Steve nodded at him. His face turned back to his tea again. Fear had set in while he had been sitting there. What if this wasn't Billy, what if it was some elaborate scheme and he was being lied to? He didn't think he could go through mourning Billy again.

"Steve." He refused to look up.

"You have to have questions. Other than asking if I'm a ghost?" Billy's tone seemed playful, bordering on teasing at least. It sounded like the Billy he knew from Hawkins.

"I don't know what to ask." He finally admitted.

"I did actually die that night. Twice actually, but the Doctors patched me up, and the lab people made me promise not to tell anyone. Not even you or Max. No matter how much I promised that it wouldn't hurt anyone. I threatened them. I threatened to tell every TV channel and radio station who'd listen to me. But they said they'd go after your kids. I didn't know what to do, so I let them do what they said was safest. They let me move back to California, but I couldn't talk to anyone from before. I tried to call Steve, but they did something to my phone. Nobody's number would go through. I even tried Wheeler's in case one of them picked up. Then I got scared, thought they'd do something to you or Max."

Steve could feel Billy's eyes on him. His pretty blues seemed to be trying to burrow into his soul. God, he wanted to let Billy burrow into him. Steve had never been able to forget how he felt around Billy. Even in the bad times, he had this burning in his chest that only Billy could bring out. Robin said it was desire when he told her. He thought it was something else; he'd never felt it with any before. Not even Nancy.

Forcing himself to look at Billy, he took a breath. "I want to be mad at you. I want to yell at you and curse you out."

"But" Billy interjected, smirking at him.

"But, I'm glad you're alive." Memories flashed across Steve's mind. Memories of Billy on top of him, panting as he had slowed his movements. Steve pulling him down, holding him against his chest as their breathing began to match one another. Billy staring at him as he tried to decide his next move. Then, laughing as, Robin angrily screamed for having to pick up 6 cards in crazy eights. Billy teasing him as they played basketball together, laughing at his jokes about putting Billy in his place later that night. Robin holding him back as they took Billy out of Starcourt. Dustin telling him it was okay, that Billy wasn't in pain anymore.

"I really am sorry Steve." Billy's eyes looked sad this time. It made Steve think he also regretted missing the last six years.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He didn't really want to know the answer. But he didn't want to stay in his thoughts any longer.

"No. Just a friend. I didn't want anybody else after you. I meant what I said, Steve." Billy's hand had moved closer to his. Just enough so their knuckles brushed against one another. The simple touch made him feel pre-pubescent. The ache in his chest dropped into his stomach, turning into excitement. Billy's skin felt as warm as it did years ago.

"Me too. Nobody was able to out-brat you." Steve smirked at Billy, but it was mostly for himself.

"I dunno what to tell you, it's hard to move on from me. I don't know why you even tried, Harrington".

At that moment, Steve decided he didn't care if it was a ghost. He'd happily live in whatever ghost world or monster-ridden reality he was in. He was just happy to have his Billy back. However, later that night, Billy proved he wasn't a ghost to Steve. Ghosts wouldn't have been able to leave the B-shaped hickies he had to explain to Robin and Xavier on Thursday.

#harringrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #stranger things #harringrove fic #steve x billy

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iwanttoplayagame20 · 1 year

Text

100 favorite horror movie deaths PT 5!!

41. Stu Macher- Scream

He was easily one of my favorite villains. And he got to go out in a cool and funny way. TV fell on his head and he got electrocuted. I think it wasn't a totally horrible way to go but it could've been faster.

42. William Easton- Saw VI

I AM UPSET THAT HE DIED. Even if he may have deserved it. He went out in a horrific fucking way, hydrofluric acid was pumped into his back and he melted in half. Another fucked up aspect was that his sister had to fucking watch this happen.

43. 12 Children (Including Constance Berman and Henry Fier)- Fear Street Part 3: 1666

This is a terrifying way to go, having your eyes gouged out by someone you thought you could trust. Fucking Solomon Goode sucks ass. And I don't necessarily think you'd die right away either, it'd be a minute or two which just adds onto how much it would suck to die that way. Though it looked cool.

44. Loretta- Leprechaun 3

She should've wished to be younger and beautiful again. It was turned against her and she blew the fuck up because she got too big. I loved how it started with smaller things like her chest, lips, and butt and then everything got bigger and then she just fucking exploded.

45. Gary Amaan- Wrong Turn: The Foundation

He's a kind of forgettable character to be honest. But he went out in such a bad way. A huge log came tumbling down and his skull was absolutely smashed. Though you could still clearly see the damage that had been done. And that adds onto how horrifying that is since everyone else had to see the result, including his boyfriend.

46. Snakehips- Shaun of the Dead

Nobody will remember him unless you have seen this film repeatedly and I can guarantee it. He was basically a nothing character Ed made fun of to cheer Shaun up after getting dumped that showed up for one single scene alive and one quick scene while dead. And when you do see him dead you see zombies nomming on his guts and insides and it's very visible when you do see it so I think it looked good and cool.

47. Glen Lantz- A Nightmare on Elm Street

Highly memorable death for a highly memorable movie. He's sucked into his bed and a geyser of blood just shoots up from his bed and absolutely covers the ceiling in blood. And there's so much that it actually starts to fucking drip from the ceiling and it's all moving around.

48. Ian Pierce- Curse of Chucky

I hate this character but he definitely had an interesting death. He had his jaw chopped of with an ax, and only his jaw. The bottom half of his head was still there and his tongue was hanging out still attached to whatever in his mouth. It was nasty.

49. Carly Numan- Wrong Turn

I feel so bad for her, first she watches her fiance get killed and then she fucking dies. I liked her. But she went out in another memorable way, half decapitation. This franchise is more known for its kills than anything else really. And then after her body tumbles down the tree she's in and we get to watch that happen.

50. Ian McKinley- Final Destination 3

My man is splattered because of a sign. He's ultimately cut in half because he's standing in the wrong spot at the wrong time chewing out Wendy for something, about how he's never gonna die or some shit. And I love how this was mostly practical, and that makes it so much cooler.

#final destination #saw movies #william easton #scream #wrong turn #cornetto trilogy #shaun of the dead #nightmare on elm street #fear street #fear street part 3: 1666 #ian mckinley

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furiouspatience · 1 year

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NSFW headcannons

tw: violence/cruelty, mention of sex/death

Carl and Anna started dating. At some point, Carl began to feel a strong sexual attraction to her, but he was ashamed to admit it. He started avoiding Anna (they say I’m sorry, I have business, etc.) until the latter decided to catch and talk to him. Well, he notices that he is excited.

Options for what will go next:

1) They kiss (so that no moans can be heard), and Anna shoves her hand into her pants. 2) Anna goes down and does everything she needs while Carl holds back the moans.

__________________

Peter Dong is killing everyone on the ground floor. Even the guards, Emma and Evan are killed. He finally gets to Marco to finally finish him off. Legrand was paralyzed with fear, and he could only watch and hope that he would be spared. The last thing Marco remembered before his death was a look filled with anger and pain.

“Well, bitch, who’s laughing now?”

When Peter comes to, he looks at his hands. They were covered in blood. His face and clothes were also covered in blood. A whole pile of corpses was lying around, and in front of him lay the body of Marco with a broken head. The realization of what happened makes Peter scream in agony. With trembling hands, he raises the weapon, bringing it already to his head.

Somewhere in the distance, Servants of the People hear a shot.

______________________

The ending of “Albert De Salvo”:

Evan couldn’t remember how long it had been since he foolishly handed Heimdall over to Albert. After several tortures from De Salvo, who tested them on him from that ill-fated book, Redgrave stopped resisting a long time ago, and simply gave up. It was pointless. There were no thoughts, no fear for his life. And no desires, except one - to die as soon as possible. But Evan knew for sure that this was not destined to come true.

______________________

Closed blinds of the office. Knock him down on the table, dropping some of the things on the floor. Passionately kiss on the lips and neck while his hands unhurriedly unbutton the buttons of his coat and shirt. Gently run your palm over your head, ruffling your hair. Touch hot skin, and outline the waistline under the shirt. Grumbling from the fact that the lock on the trousers does not give in. His quiet laugh. Slow tremors, gradually developing into faster ones. Moans that are trying to drown out. Hands clasping the back. Your name.

“I won…” Ernst says in a hoarse voice in Stephen’s ear

#beholder game #beholder #beholder 2 #beholder 3 #text post #stephernst

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biohazard-inevitable · 1 month

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Death and My Life

⚠️Warning for talks of suicide and other grim death topics!!⚠️

People worry about me when they find out how casual I am about death

To them, I’m depressing, grim, haunted and troubled

“Dont think like that”

“Are you okay?”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

And in truth, it used to, in the past.

I used to want it to come faster, used to wish I’d never wake up.

Ive been in some dark places, but now, death is a faint comfort.

I dont desire it, not anymore.

Instead, I walk alongside it.

People look at me strange when I tell them it relaxes me, and I cant for the life of me begin to explain.

But death, is already a part of me. A part of everything.

We’re all on one big fuse destined to explode and collapse one day.

We are not infinite.

Growing up, death was something that happened around us, something we didn’t think about.

You dont consider that your hamburger is dead, that bouquet you picked from the yard is dead, that bug squashed by the flyswatter is dead, the squirrel smeared across the road is dead.

Death was something that happened to things, to objects, but certainly not to people.

We’d see it on the tv in nature documentaries, maybe you discected a frog in school, maybe you squashed a lizard in a door or watched a fish choke to death as you held it from a string out of water

Maybe your first experience with death was a pet.

Maybe a grandparent.

Or maybe even a dear friend.

Mine was a boy.

I didn’t know him well, just his name and his face.

Maybe that makes it worse, that he was a random kid.

We were grade-mates.

He was nice, I would watch him play at recess and heard him be called upon in class.

I didnt really know him.

I didn’t know his favorite color or favorite animal or even what cartoons he liked to watch.

One day, he was gone.

We were only children, just barely double digits.

11, maybe 12.

He shot himself.

And then he was gone.

His seat, empty for the rest of the year.

I never saw him again, and for a while, the world felt empty.

So this is death.

I thought to myself.

I wasn’t really all that sad.

Couldn’t be.

I didnt know him,

But I cant forget him.

I still think about him, from time to time.

Think about how we would have graduated together, probably gone to high school together.

Nobody talks about him anymore.

Hes gone.

It surprised me, to be truthful, about how death can just come and go so silently.

I don’t think I can go back to how I was before.

But now, I find death an odd comfort.

I collect the dead, be it bones or furs or leather.

Its like they matter, like now there’s someone there still to see them.

They didn’t just dissappear.

They didn’t stop showing up.

Their body is here, but still they’re gone.

Its comfoting, to know that in some bleak way, nothing matters.

We’ll all dissappear.

We’ll all die.

It’s inevitable.

There’s no stopping it.

So, why should you care about anything besides your joy?

We’ll all die

So enjoy what you want.

Why judge anyone for what they like when at the end of it all

We’ll all just be another obituary

Sure, its sad, and it can be scary.

We cry, but we’re human.

Theres nothing we could have done

Maybe it makes me apathetic or cynical

But I’ve grown weary of worrying about my clock.

Sure, i know its ticking.

But isnt everyone’s?

You cant run from death

So its the strongest thing to believe in.

I’ve stopped running

When it happens, it’ll happen

And I’ll leave knowing i’ve done all i could to be as happy as I can.

Whatever happens afterwards will happen

Because as far as this realm is concerned

It doesnt matter

#death #cw death #personal #tw suicide #cw sui mention #cw suicide #tw sui talk #ask to tag #ask to tw #grim topics #dark #cw dark content #tw dark content #tw death #cw existentialism #tw existentialism

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hecckyeah · 2 years

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i don’t think i can explain to you how much i hate the whole clones aging at double speed thing

#okay so i actually have some proof why this might not be true #and don’t talk to me about rebels i’m salty at how the clones were handled there anyway #so on umbara when fives and hardcase are running around and fives is like geez man calm down #and hardcase says ‘there was a leak in my growth acceleration chamber’#if he had said just growth chamber i’d be like oh yeah the artificial uteruses #(uteri? uterusses?) anyway #but he said ACCELERATION chamber #leading me to believe #that the aging faster thing ////wasn’t//// in their dna #that they were like given hormone treatments or steroids etc #and then put in some captain america style pod thing to speed up their growth #maybe once a month or whatever #because like #hardcase said his had a leak #so he got more of whatever it was making them grow #making him more hyperactive than normal #idk i just think rebels handled it wrong #and while i adore old rex and would die for him #it just makes me so incredibly sad that after everything he’s been through he’s still destined to die at the ripe age of 40-50 #anyway #that’s my rant for the day #star wars #captain rex #sw rebels #tcw

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donutloverxo · 3 years

Text

His queen

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Note - An anon asked for an au sequel to first night with no stucky but this can be read as a one shot. Thanks to lizzygal(link to ao3) for her advice on this! This is written for @sweetlyscared's 1k angst challenge! Congrats boo! I used the prompt 'Do you love her?' Although this is hardly angsty but it's as angsty as someone as soft as me can get🥺 Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Summary - Married life with Steve was amazing (although with a few bumps in the way) until you discovered a heartbreaking secret.

Warnings - explicit sexual content, painful sex, innocent naive insecure reader, dub con/noncon, soft dark Steve, jealous Steve, ooc villain Sharon, like a little breeding kink, some angst.

Pairing - soft dark king!Steve x reader

Word count - 5.3k

Steve jolted when your palm hit him across his face, his hand circled around your wrist, ready to fight whatever it was that slapped him off, his grip loosening when he realised it was just you. You wiggled your hand away from his grip, mumbling incoherently before turning away from him, so that he could only see the silhouette of your nude back in the dim light.

Although he had been with a handful of women, he never had to share a bed with one. He didn’t think he’d ever have to, he was born in royalty, raised to be a king. While he liked having your soft warm body in his arms, he maybe could live without your hands slapping him, or both your legs over his thighs and hips.

It was customary for wives to have their own chambers after the honeymoon period was over. And with a heavy heart he had sent you to your own chambers, he made sure you were treated to the best luxuries possible.

But he found himself missing your presence soon enough. Your legs over his, you annoying him for attention whenever he was working, the way you hummed a song in your head, how you often clumsily bumped into things, your sweet beautiful voice, your scent, everything about you.

So he went to your room, told you that you were to live with him in his chambers from then on. You were hesitant at first, but didn’t say no to him.

You could never deny him anything. He loved that about you. How subservient you were despite being so fiery.

He was grateful to have made you move in, in times like these, when his cock was hard and achingly pressed against your thigh, he had you right where he wanted you.

He softly called out your name, he’d rather have you awake for this. He loved listening to the sweet sounds he could pull out of you. When you didn’t so much as stir he decided he would just have to wake you up another way.

Pushing your legs off his, spreading them apart to make room for him as he hovered over you, pressing soft kisses, rubbing his beard against your skin, he made his way down to his destination, he was parched for your nectar.

He kissed your petal, your cunt already oozing with need, your body would always want him even if you weren’t awake. He frowned when you didn’t move at all. He had been a bit too rough with you that night, exhausting you, making you pass out as soon as he was done, but he was growing more and more impatient.

Scraping his teeth over your clit, he bit it ever so lightly as you yelped awake.

“Oh!” you gasped when you looked down to find the king between your legs.

Swallowing a lump, because this was still so very strange to you. Your mother had told you how a man and woman make love before your wedding, but she never mentioned anything like this.

From your knowledge the king putting his mouth there wouldn’t result in you getting pregnant. But it did bring you great pleasure, to the point where it was maddening.

Sometimes it was the only thing on your mind.

It was as if you were addicted to it.

“My king...” you squirmed when you felt him push his fingers inside you, “I’m so tired... I have court tomorrow...” How he managed to do all his duties and still have you at least thrice everyday was beyond you.

“You don’t have to go. You’re the queen, the future mother of my children, you deserve a day off. Besides I do work you a bit too hard, don’t I?” he asked before plunging his tongue into your heat.

“Huh? No... I’m glad to be serving you...” And you had yet to give him any heirs.

It wasn’t long before you released all over his mouth, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard coated with your slick as he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“You can stay in bed all day tomorrow. That way you’ll be strong and ready by the time I’m back.” He told you before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, as you tasted yourself on his mouth.

Turns out a day off was everything that you had needed. You were born a princess, albeit of a kingdom standing on its last legs, you were the youngest of six sisters, your prospects weren’t all that great.

Your mother told you that you’d be lucky to get a rich lord, let alone a Duke or a prince. A King was out of the question. She taught you how to handle a household, she never could’ve prepared you for court or to be a queen. You always dreamt of marrying for love. Of running away after falling for a stable boy and living far away and being free.

But you married the King of the most prestigious kingdom in the whole world. While you had grown to love Steven, you didn’t love all the responsibilities that were thrusted upon you so suddenly, you didn’t like how you were always under scrutiny. Every move you made was watched and judged by others. You still couldn’t believe your life sometimes.

So it was nice to have a day to yourself. You had slept in till late in the morning, having your breakfast in bed before taking a leisurely bath and then decided to go for a walk in the garden just before the sunset before you’d have to go back up and have dinner with your husband before having to perform your wifely duties.

“Your grace,” you smiled upon hearing the familiar voice, turning around to see Lady Sharon approaching you.

You hadn’t seen her in over a month. She had been so kind to assist you and help you get acclimated to your duties, you’d always be grateful to her.

“I thought you were under the weather,” she frowned. It was the excuse you had given to skip court with your ladies that day. Which wasn’t a complete lie. You were a little sore between your legs. But a warm bath had fixed that.

“I’m feeling quite better,” you said, standing upright, a dignified smile on your face--formal and curt.

Always be formal and curt with everyone. Your instinct was to hug her when you saw her after her month long trip, like you would to any of your sisters or friends, but you must always act like a queen since you were one.

“How was your trip?” you asked her as she hooked her arm in yours so you could both resume walking.

“It went alright. Mama wants to marry me off to the Duke Stark, the trip was some sort of matchmaking ploy,” she snorted.

“What’s wrong with Stark? He seems so charming.” You remember meeting him at your coronation ceremony. Where he had got you beautiful pearls from an exotic country.

“He maybe charming, but at the end of the day - he’s manwhore.”

You gasped incredulously, your hand over your mouth as you looked around to make sure your maids didn’t hear you, “Lady Sharon,” you chastised her, “We can’t use that sort of language.”

“Forgive me, your grace,” she apologized, “I often forget how naive you are.”

“What? Naive?” you huffed. “Not using such filthy language hardly makes me naive.”

“Live a little, all royals are debauched in one way or another. I’m surprised to see just how much of a square you are.”

“Is... is being a square a bad thing?” You wanted to know. You never thought of yourself as a conformist, in fact your mother used to tell you you’ll die an old maid if you didn’t start acting more like a lady and less like a spoilt brat.

“Sometimes it is...” she pondered. “Well, for instance, being a square in bed might be boring for some men.”

“What?” you gasped again. Tightening your grip on her arm and walking at a faster pace to put some distance between you and your maids, “Give us a minute,” you told them.

“Lady Sharon,” you looked into her blue eyes, much like your husbands but a little darker, “Have you ever been with a man?”

“I have,” she shrugged. “Just the one. He was my true love.”

“Bu – but you aren’t married.” You frowned.

“So?”

“So, how can you make love to anyone if you aren’t married...” Your mother had told you that making love only ever happened between a man and his wife.

“I... you do know what making love entails right? This is what I meant when I said you were too much of a square,” she chuckled.

“Don’t... don’t make fun of me...” you pouted.

“I’m sorry, your grace, it’s just,” she put a hand over her mouth as she cleared her throat, “Really funny. Two people, who aren’t married, can make love. Being married is good but not a requirement.”

“I suppose that makes sense, me and his majesty could do it even if we weren’t married...”

“Is he happy with you?” she wanted to know.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just, you don’t know much about physical relations, and there needs to be a certain level of knowledge and experience for it to be good at it.”

“Do you think he is unsatisfied with me?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she shrugged. “Does he seem unsatisfied?”

He was always asking for it. Which you preferred, because you’d die of embarrassment if you ever had to initiate it. You couldn’t go for too long without it either. He had went on a hunting trip for just a couple of days and you wanted to jump on him and keep him in your bed as soon as you saw him.

Why would he ask for it again and again if he was satisfied?

“I’m not sure... since you know so much about it would you give me some advice?”

“My, I would’ve thought you’d call me a harlot or a whore instead you’re asking for advice...” she smirked.

“Oh, I would never. That is what my mother would say, probably, but you’re my friend. Besides, I would want to make love to Steve even if we weren’t married, and if he was a stable boy.”

“A stable boy?” she quirked a blonde brow.

“Yes! And I would be me, a princess. It’s just a silly dream I used to have,” you shrugged. “What happened to your love? The one you lost?”

“He got married to someone else,” she stated. And although she was firm and sophisticated as always, you could hear his voice wavering and how much pain she was in.

“Oh my... I am so sorry, Sharon,” you said, engulfing her in a hug to comfort her, now that you do actually love someone, now that you know what loving someone deeply means, how overwhelming it can be, you couldn’t even imagine what losing that love would feel like. “You’ll find someone better.”

“There is no one better, your grace. But I’ll give you some advice,” she pulled away from you, putting some distance between you both, “You have to pay special attention to his balls. Many ladies tend to forget them.”

“Ball...? Like toys? I don’t believe he has any.”

“Your grace,” she rolled her eyes as she snickered, “He does have them. That is where your children will come from.”

“Um... what? Wouldn’t they come from...” you looked down, to the place between your legs. That’s where kids come from. That’s what you had been told.

“Well, yes, that is where they will pop out of. But the balls... the ones right behind his manhood, that’s where his seed comes from.”

“Oh...” you nodded as you realised what she was talking about. “So... what about the... balls?”

“Just pay special attention to them. He would like that. Suck on them, tug on them... but gently!” she chuckled as she realised she would have to talk down to you since you were so inexperienced.

“Oh... alright... anything else I can do?”

“Try to be more... active... instead of just sitting there and taking it you know?”

“Alright. I think I get the gist of it.”

“You ready for me, petal?” Steven asked as he looked down at you, naked and vulnerable, so beautiful and all his. He nudged his cock against your intimate lips, prodding at your entrance as he awaited your answer. He knew he could be too much for you sometimes, he was trying to do better. So he could make you love him at least half of as much as he loves you.

“Mm-hm... but um...” you trailed off. Not exactly knowing how you would go about asking to suck his balls.

“What?”

“I was just wondering if... I could... do that...” you fluttered your lashes, that usually got you whatever you wanted from him.

“And what is ‘that’?”

“You know... when you make me put my mouth on you...”

He didn’t usually make you use your mouth.

Most of the times Steven had a strict unofficial schedule he followed when it came to lovemaking. He wasn’t someone who liked or embraced change, he was always strategic, as a king and as your husband.

He’d kiss you till you were out of breath, then your neck, and then your breasts, he’d spend a long amount of time there, maybe because you liked that the most probably. And then he’d use his fingers to work you up, tasting you, eating you out and drinking your nectar.

That drove you mad, till you were on the brink of insanity.

You loved it as much as you hated it. You had never felt so out of control in your entire life. Not even when your parents told you they were going to marry you off to a kingdom far away, to a man you had never even met before.

Steven would complain that you thrashed and moved around too much, although he would encourage you to make all the noise that you wished. He pinned you down by your hips. Sometimes he’d make you make once, twice, thrice, it depended on how desperate he was to get his own release.

And then he’d have you on your back. Whispering the filthiest things to you as he fucked you, filled you up with his seed.

He’d hold you close to him, kissing your hair, kissing your cheeks and touching your ever so intimately. That was when you were the most clingy, you’d hold on so tightly to him. You were more vulnerable than usual. You would tell him about how, even though you love being the queen and his wife, it was so new and overwhelming, how you miss your family and your old life. How things had changed and so drastically. He’d always tell you that it would all be okay. That he would take care of you and never let anything bad ever happen to you.

Then he’d have you on your hands and knees. He told you he liked looking at your behind and spanking it.

After that you’d both fall asleep. Sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night and nudge you awake to love you some more. But he rarely ever made you suck him off.

“You wanna suck my cock?” he smirked as you meekly nodded. “Go right ahead then, petal. It’s all yours now, you don’t have to ask,” he told you as he sat up on his knees.

You looked at his cock. Hard and standing tall and proud up against his stomach. You now knew that being aroused made him hard and much much bigger. Maybe that’s why it’s often such a tasking job to take him--often leaving your cunt so sore.

Soft dark golden hair, much like that of his beard, and then you noticed them. His twin balls.

You took a deep breath as you took him in your mouth, suckling on his head, following your instincts and what he had taught you.

Your hand coming up and cupping his balls, massaging them gently in your hand. You stopped when you felt him go stiff.

Pulling his cock out of your mouth you looked up at him. “Did I do something wrong?” as you wiped your spittle and his preejaculate off your mouth.

“No,” he shook his head. It wasn’t often that he was stunned. Not ever really. But you, taking that kind of initiative, to touch him without him asking for you to, did shock him just a little.

He held onto the back of your head, bringing his balls just next to your mouth, against your soft lips, “Suck on them,” he told you.

You suckled at one, working the other one with your hand as he pulled at the roots of your head.

“Fuck! Stop!” he heaved, pulling you away, “I have to save it for your beautiful cunt, my queen,” he told you as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before he pushed you back down on the mattress.

Swiftly entering you, you were still as tight as the night of your wedding, which meant he had to be patient while fucking you, and he tried. He really did. But he was not a patient man. Especially not when you had just put your mouth on him and worked your magic in mere seconds.

He put most of his weight on you as he slowly pushed in and out of you, your face scrunched up in pleasure as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

With your pussy hugging him so well, almost as if it was made for him, as if you were made by the gods just for him.

“What have you done to me?” he rasped, touching his damp forehead to yours. You had weaved some sort of magic on him, making him crazy for you. Now it was hard to tell where he ended and you began.

You pressed a hand against your mouth to stop from giggling or making any sort of noise. Resting your back against the cool surface of the throne. You chose the back of the throne in the court as your place of hiding. Maybe it wasn’t the most strategic ploy but you were playing against a six year old.

Lila Barton had asked to play hide and seek with you. Only to receive a scolding from her nanny--to not bother the queen with such trivial matters.

It was as if you were reliving your childhood. You always felt you were made to grow up and be a lady too fast. With your mother and sisters telling you how important it was to act mature and be a lady, or you wouldn’t be able to marry well. Or marry at all.

So you jumped at the first opportunity to play with the kid. Making her count to twenty before looking for a place to hide. You had to go get your lessons for sewing so you didn’t have a lot of time, you hoped she would find you soon.

“But you’re not even considering it!”

You perked up when you heard the familiar voice, it was Lady Sharon! You had to thank her for all her advice, things had been going great with Steven ever since you listened to her. He had been opening up to you as well, although he was still as voracious in his love making. If anything... he wanted you even more now. Which you didn’t think could even be possible.

But some part of you absolutely loved it. And you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You peaked out to see her, to maybe call her to join you on the floor, hiding behind the large throne. You frowned when you saw that she was holding onto Steven’s arm, looking up at him with a certain desperation in her eyes.

“There is nothing to consider. I’m a married man. It would be adultery – a crime,” he stated.

“Bu – but you promised, you told me you didn’t love her. You said you didn’t have any other choice. I’m not asking you to leave her for me, I know that’s not possible. I’m not a fucking idiot like her.”

You slapped a hand over your mouth again to keep your sobs in, tears streaming down your face as you watched your husband, and his lover, have a lovers quarrel.

You couldn’t hear any more of it. Couldn’t bear it breaking your heart anymore than it already had. You quickly got up, fleeing out of the room by the back entrance - which the servants often used.

“You watch your mouth when you speak of the queen,” he yanked his arm free of her, putting some distance between himself and her, “I didn’t make any promises like that. I told you I intended to be faithful to her even if I didn’t love her.”

He knew it was a mistake to ever get involved with Sharon. He never wanted to be a womanizer. But he had his needs. He didn’t think she would become so obsessed with him. He had broken off their short fling as soon as he became betrothed to you.

He felt responsible for all the rumours about him and her and her ruined reputation. So he had arranged for her to marry his good friend Stark but she had her mind set on him.

“I like the queen. She’s a good friend of mine. I don’t intend to replace her,” she explained. She had no interest in being a queen and having such tedious and boring responsibilities anyway—the power and the status that came along with it just wasn’t worth the hassle. She pitied you and how you just weren’t made for the job.

“But she can’t satisfy you, she can’t give you what you need-- What I can give you,” Being the Kings mistress would probably be better than being a Duchess and marrying some boring old man.

“Won’t you even think about it?”

“No I won’t. And you are to never speak of this again,” he warned her.

“Your grace...” Lydia was completely confused. Standing there with your dress in her hands as you frantically stuffed your clothes in a chest.

She had never seen two people as in love as you and the king. When she first met you, it didn’t seem as if you and Steven would make a good couple. She assumed your marriage would be like any other she had seen. Cold and distant.

Steve had never been smitten with a woman, she always felt there maybe something wrong with him. But he had grown so fond of you in such a short time. Even going as far as asking you to live with him in his chambers. Having the king around often made her duties to you challenging. But she was happy for you.

“I don’t understand. What wrong? Why do you want to leave so suddenly.” Does the king approve of your sudden departure? If not would she get in trouble for it?

“He lied to me,” you sobbed. “I thought--” you let out a hiccup.

“Calm down,” she said as she rubbed your forearms. She wasn’t afraid to touch you in such friendly ways, you weren’t as stuck up as most royals.

You took a deep breath as you tried to explain to your handmaiden why you both had to leave as soon as possible. Before Steven gets back. You’ll move all your things to the room you were supposed to live in and just lock him out of your chambers.

“I would’ve been fine living on my own. Just being a wife and a queen. But he made me believe... that we could be more. That he loved me. It’s not true,” you shook your head. “He lied. He has another lover.”

“Oh,” she let out. She was disappointed on your behalf but not surprised. It would be strange if the king didn’t have any other lovers. “I’m sorry, your grace.”

“I’ll be fine,” you sniffled. “This'll be a good lesson for me. My mother always told me I have my head in the clouds and should live in reality. That’ll teach me to dream.”

It was almost funny for her to watch you babble nonsense, stable boys, princesses and backstabbing friends, take a break to cry your heart out and then resume packing and trying to order all the other servants.

“What’s going on here?”

Everyone stopped moving as soon as they heard the kings voice. He of course looked at the Lydia for an explanation.

“The queen wants us to...”

“I’m moving back to my old chambers,” you briskly walked to him, standing right in front of him, looking him in the eye. He was much taller than you, making you crane your neck to actually get a good look at him, but you still tried to look intimidating and confrontational.

“Why?” he frowned. “Put everything back just as it was,” he ordered everyone.

“No!” you stomped your foot, looking very much like an indignant child who had his toy taken away, than a queen, “Don’t! We’re moving!” But of course nobody would listen to you over Steven. Not just because he was their king, but also because he was much more intimidating than you.

“Stop it!” he reprimanded you. “Whatever troubles you may have, we can sort them out together, but you are not moving back. And that’s the end of that.”

“No! I’m leaving! I’d like to see you try to stop me!” You hmphed. Pushing past him and making way for the door. You didn’t need to take your things with you now, you could just send for them later.

You screamed bloody murder when you felt Stevens arm around your stomach, as he threw you over his shoulder in the blink of an eye, “HELP!!” You yelled at the guards and your maids, who didn’t want to get involved, quickly scurrying out of the room.

“Ring the bell if you need anything, your grace,” Lydia said on her way out to you before she closed the door. It didn’t seem as if the king intended to do any real harm to you so she wasn’t that worried about you.

You kept on hitting his back, thrashing around his hold to break free, “Put me down!”

He threw you on your marital bed, his fingers making quick work of ridding him of his clothes so he could show you how he was just never going to let you go.

“Why do you even care? If I leave or not? You can just call for your lover!”

“My lover?” he frowned as he tried to push your skirts up your legs, which was proving to be a difficult task. Maybe he should’ve asked the maids to undress you before making them leave.

“Do you love her?” you asked, looking up at him and stopping your futile resistance for a few moments, your lips wobbly as you felt your vision blue with tears. You were born a princess, living a relatively sheltered life, never knowing pain so unbearable. As if you would never recover from this, you would never be the same.

You would never believe in love again.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, petal,” he said, getting frustrated with all the buttons and ties on your dress and ripping your skirt apart. Which he regretted, just a little because you started crying again.

“No! I like this dress.”

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you a hundred more.” He said as he hovered over you, diving in to kiss your beautiful lips and make you stop saying such preposterous things.

You sniffled as you tried to push him away, making him gather your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

“Stop it,” he told you. “When will you understand that you belong to me now? If I say you have to live with me, here, then that’s what you’ll do.”

“I’m not your slave,” you retorted as you tried to wiggle your hands out of his grip.

“Stop listening to rumors! There are plenty going around. I do not have a lover.”

“No. I saw it with my own eyes. You and Lady Sharon. Just this afternoon.”

“What did you see?”

“I... she said she was your lover...?” You tried to think of what exactly had been said between them. But you couldn’t remember. You were blinded by your fury and your sorrow.

“We used to be lovers, before you and I ever met, but not anymore. I could never think of another, I could never love anyone else,” he said softly as he touched your cheek with his other hand, “You want to know why?”

“Why?” you pouted, feeling a little stupid now.

“Because you’ve ruined me, my queen. You’ve made me a lovesick fool. I could never love anyone else the way I love you. Do you want to know how much I love you?” he asked as you meekly nodded.

Pulling his cock out of breaches, he pushed your skirts up, exposing your thighs to him, he rubbed his cock along the slick of your pussy.

“Did fighting with me make you wet, my queen?” he asked, making you avert your gaze.

“I...” it was the way he had simply thrown you around, how he just wouldn’t let you leave, “Maybe...”

“Hm, don’t start picking fights with me for no reason though. My poor heart won’t be able to bear it,” he cooed as he kissed your cheeks, wet from your tears. “You look beautiful when you cry, love, but I only want you crying when I’m fucking you, you understand?”

“Yes...”

He pushed inside you, you were tighter than usual, it was difficult to even properly enter you. The pain of it of course made you cry again. You sobbed into the crook of his neck as he shushed you.

“You feel my love, darling,” he asked as he was buried to the hilt inside you, “I’ll give you a child soon enough. Then you’ll have a living breathing proof of it,” he whispered in your ear as he started steadily moving, making sure that he won’t hurt you.

“I wish... I was your one and only... like you are mine,” you sniffled as you held on to him, soon it is wasn’t hurting as much, it was a little uncomfortable but you could bear through it.

“You are my one and only. You’re the only woman I have ever loved. Do you love me, petal?”

He looked down at you, wanting you to say it. He needed you to love him, for you to say it to him, he needed to know you weren’t here just because you were scared of him.

“I love you, Steve,” you sniffled, rubbing your runny nose with the back of your hand.

He smiled at you, his hand trailing down both your bodies as he twisted your pearl between his fingers.

“It’s okay... it’s okay...” He kept telling you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, your climax making your mind and your vision fuzzy.

“I’m going to fill you up, petal,” he told you as he finished inside you, staying inside you for a long while after he was done just to make sure you knew how he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him.

#sweetlysad1kchallenge #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers

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divinerulerluvr · 3 years

Text

Womanizer

Summary - Warren Lipka picks you up after studying to have some fun and buy time.

Warnings - basic smut with a bit of a pain kink, breeding kink, that's the main things idk what else to advise you about.

A/N - I feel we need more warren shit on tumblr since he is arguably one of Evan's best characters outside of ahs. this fic has nothing to do with the plot of American animals so no spoilers ahead.

- - -

Warren’s car comes speeding down the road, skidding to a stop where i stand on the sidewalk.The window was rolled down, letting me see his pretty face. “Hiya there, stranger,” he jokes, a smile on his lips.

Chuckling, i walk around the car and get into the passenger side. It was late at night and i had just finished studying for my exam on Monday and who better to call at two in the morning on a Friday than Warren?

The moment I had buckled my seatbelt, Warren drove off. He always drove like he was in a car chase. It scares me sometimes but we’ve never been pulled over or gotten into a crash.

His music plays loudly, only making him drive faster. He tends to get lost in the moment. “What were you studying this time?” he asks, looking over to me as he pulls up to an abandoned intersection at a stoplight.

“The uh, Stonewall Riot of 1969,” I answer, looking over to meet his eyes. My minor was in Social Justice so of course, the Stonewall Riot was a topic we’d talk about. “Cool. That chick who was like, the leader of the riots was cool,” Warren replies, driving again when the hue of the green light filled the dark car.

I just nod, looking out my window. It was late at night so not a lot of people were out on the roads. The occasional drunk person or car was all you could spot. “Where do you wanna go?” he asks me.

It was always a dreaded question. Warren knew this, that’s why he always hesitated to ask. Sometimes he’d just drive around with no destination in mind because we had nowhere to go or be. I never wanted to go home and neither did he.

“I don’t know,” I say with a heavy sigh. Warren pulls into an abandoned parking lot, screeching the car to a stop and putting it in park. He grabs something out of the cup holder and I see he holds a joint.

He lights it, inhaling it first before offering it to me. “I stopped smoking weed,” I turn down. Warren smiles, a look of playful shock in his eyes. “My god, Y/n. Repenting, I see,” he jokes, taking another hit on the joint.

“I hope you don’t think you’re better than me now,” he comments, leaning back in his seat. He turns down the music a bit, silencing ‘Piano Man’ by Billy Joel. “How's college?” Warren asks me, his eyes studying my face.

The only source of light was from the dim street lamp that Warren had parked next to. I shrug, my lips pressed together. “Fine. Stressful but I can handle it,” I answer, resting my head back on the seat.

“You look tired,” Warren notices, his eyes evaluating my face like I was some complex math equation. I chuckle weakly. “Thank you for that,”

“College is bullshit, anyway. All the famous and rich people dropped out of high school. Let alone graduated college,” Warren tries to comfort. “All you need to succeed is money and charisma. And to be honest, Y/n, you’re already halfway there,”

I turn my head to look at him, a small smile spreading on my lips. “You think I’m charismatic?” I ask. Warren nods, exhaling smoke from his joint out of his rolled-down window. “Charisma is mostly how attractive you are and the other half is being nice so, yeah,”

“That is the nicest thing I think you have ever said, Lipka,” I say, almost surprised by his compliment. He chuckles, shaking his head as he looks away from me. “The weed makes me nice,” he excuses.

“I have to agree,”

“You are very pretty though,” Warren states, his voice lowered with affection. I turn my head back to face him, seeing the forlorn look in his dark eyes as he looks at me. “You’re pretty, too,” I compliment in return, reaching out and twirling a strand of his shaggy, brown hair around my finger.

Warren places his hand on my thigh in return, his eyes heavy on mine as his thumb rubs small circles on my inner thigh. “Third hookup of the month?” Warren suggests.

“That’d be the last one and it’s only the sixteenth,” I reply. He and I had this rule that since we were friends with benefits that we got three hookups a month. It keeps order in our friend group. Warren sighs, a look of disappointment on his face. “So?”

I roll my eyes playfully, feeling his hand creep further up my thigh and closer to my core. “Fine,” I say as if I were tired of arguing but in reality, I really wanted it as well. He leans over the center console of the car, his lips locking with mine without hesitation.

Kissing back, my fingers tangle in his hair as his fingers rub my clit lightly through the fabric of my pants. I moan into the kiss, my free hand going to his dick and palming him through his jeans.

Warren pulls from the kiss first, his eyes dark with lust and his cheeks red. “Backseat,” he instructs vaguely. With a simple nod, I crawl into the backseat, already taking off my leggings and tee shirt as he joins me in the backseat.

I help him take off his shirt, running my hand up his toned torso, feeling his warm skin. He does the same to me, his hand running down my bare leg. He lays me across the seats, pulling my panties off in one clean motion before settling between my legs.

Our lips meet again, my hands on his face to deepen the kiss. The kiss was hot and desperate. Sex with him was always like this. Like he was going to die if he didn’t fuck me in the next five minutes.

Warren was a very impatient man. Which causes for hot and oh so unholy sex.

His hand travels down between our bodies, slipping under my bra and playing with my breasts. I arch my back, my moans silenced by his lips. The car was already getting hot, causing a thin sheen of sweat to break out on our skin.

My hands go to his pants out of habit, undoing the zipper to his jeans easily. Pulling them down, I pull back the waistband to his boxers to let his dick out. I feel him smile into the kiss, impressed with my eagerness. He didn’t even have to make a snide comment about it, I just knew he was thinking it.

His hands move down my body, stopping at my hips where he holds me in place so he can push into me. His lips leave him, his eyes admiring the way my mouth falls agape as I feel his dick inside of me.

My legs wrap around his waist, my nails digging into the skin of his shoulder blades as he bottoms out inside me. He pushes some hair out of my face, stalling any movements to help me adjust.

“You look so pretty with me inside of you, pup,” he says, his lips grazing over mine in a taunting way. I whimper, a shudder running through my body as he moves his hips just so slightly. “Oh, you want more?” he asks teasingly.

I nod eagerly, giving him my best puppy dog eyes to hopefully make him cave. He runs his thumb over my lower lip before pushing it into my mouth. I gladly accept it, sucking on his thumb as he pulls his hips back and thrusts into me roughly.

I screw my eyes shut, my walls clenching as Warren sets a fast and relentless pace right away. My wetness made it easy for him, as he likes to say. Any noises I made were muffled by his thumb in my mouth.

My stomach tightens in knots as pleasure floods over me. Warren pulls his thumb from my mouth, his eyes on mine as he admires his work. Tears gather in my eyes, my skin hot to touch. He caresses my cheek, his hand falling down to my neck where he drags his nails down my neck and trails down to my breasts.

A whimper falls from my lips, my hips bucking to meet his as he continues to fuck me into oblivion. “Warren,” I moan weakly, my voice dripping with submission.

A groan leaves his lips, his eyes closing briefly as he indulges in his own pleasure. “You feel so good, baby. You’re such a good girl,” he praises, his words sending more arousal through my body.

I run my fingers through his hair, our eyes locked. Warren loves to keep eye contact during sex. Says that seeing the look on my face was better than the sex itself.

Already close to my orgasm, Warren runs his hand between our bodies, his fingers locating my clit effortlessly and rubbing slow circles on it to double my pleasure. I moan out, my eyes falling shut again as I bask in the feeling.

Warren removes his hand from my clit, moving to snake under my back so he could flip me around so we were now in doggy style. He quickly resumes his thrusts, hitting deeper inside of me than prior.

I rest my hand on the fogged-up window for stability, my head thrown back. Warren’s fingers tangle in my hair, pulling a handful of it. I cry out weakly, his grip on my hair being painful. Using my hair as leverage, he leans back as he fucks me roughly.

Right on the edge of an orgasm, I hold back knowing that Warren liked to make sex last due to my three times a month rule.

Using every ounce of willpower to repress my orgasm, my walls clench around his dick tightly. “Aww, is my baby gonna cum?” Warren asks in a mocking tone, just his mere words making me want to give up my fruitless battle.

I just nod, a pathetic moan leaving my lips as his fingers dig into my hips. “Go ahead, I give you permission,” he allows. With a sigh of relief, I give up everything and let the pleasure take over. With one last cry of his name, I’m falling apart.

The only way to explain an orgasm from Warren was like being able to sit down after running for days and days on end.

My entire body shakes and I find myself relying on his grip on my hips to keep me up. Soft pants leave my lips as my ears ring, my eyes screwed closed as pressure from my veins releases itself all at once.

Warren fucks me through my orgasm, leaving me a shaky mess as he cums inside of me. Ceasing his thrusting, he carefully pulls out of me, running his finger through my soaked slit to admire his work.

Panting, I sit back down on the seat, pulling my panties back on. “Shit. I gotta get to a bathroom now,” I huff, suddenly very aware of how uncomfortable having his cum in me would be. Warren smiles charmingly, shrugging. “Everything’s closed,”

I sigh, getting back into the front seat and pull on the rest of my clothes. Warren follows behind me, pulling his shirt back on as he puts the car into drive. I lean back in my seat, still catching my breath as Warren skirts out of the dark parking lot and onto the main road.

“Just don’t tell my boyfriend, ‘kay?”

“As always, friend,”

#evan peters #warren lipka #ahs #american animals #smut #fic #kai anderson #james patrick march #tate langdon #kit walker

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bloodycassian · 3 years

Text

Reader x Rhys - Traitor.

hi! i was thinking a bat boi x reader where the reader ”betrays” them but the reader is doing it to save the night court (they don’t know that until later tho) and the reader is exiled from the night court before the inner circle realises the reader did it to save them <3 (you can pick the bat boi :) Reader is a double agent - originally from Autumn court. The reader has allied themselves with the Night court after Autumn and Hybern began working together. Reader still poses as an Autumn court informant to Beron.

This was a challenge for me, thank you for that!

They would be their own downfall. You knew they would do absolutely anything to protect Velaris and its citizens. Amren was the only one who seemed to be on your side regarding the risky method. Rhys outright refused. Which was why you had to pave the way to allow Beron's army in. Or, at least make them all think that was what you'd done. You spent weeks forging your plan, heart sinking with every tough decision to be made. Which buildings would be sacrificed, how to get the people of the city out without giving yourself away. Beron would be pissed off, but he wouldn't dare to actually march his army into Velaris. You had fed him enough information to make him hesitate at that idea. Plus, they were busy ruining the Summer court. But you doubted that the King of Hybern knew that. Beron liked to keep his soldiers tame and under his rule by allowing them free reign after battles. So you waited on your informants to get back to you to confirm. Like a spider waiting for it's trap to be set. If the king thought his own ally in the Autumn court had already sacked Velaris, he wouldn't make the stop there. He didn't want to ruin his own pride, wasting his first grand attack on a measly city that was already losing their battle. He would continue for the next city down the line that hadn't been trifled with yet. It was a risk and you knew it - playing the king's arrogance. So you covered all your bases, and you set fires. Got yourself the biggest Illusion spell you could find. A massive one that had cost you half your bank account for all the materials you needed to create it. Your lips trembled as you said the enchantment over the potion. You told yourself it would work. It had to. You packed your bag and tightened it on your back before you set off. Hurting Rhys would be the hardest part. You debated the plan all together because of the fracture it would cause. But you knew it was the only way to keep him safe from his need to protect his home. The city he built from the ground up. You tried to push those thoughts away until the day of your heist. Which seemed to come around much too soon. You led Rhys and Azriel far out of Velaris the hour before the potion was to be set off. You spun them a story of scouts watching from the south. You weren't even halfway to your destination when the screams started, a loud cracking sound ringing out over the land. The potions had worked. Your face went pale at Rhy's rage filled gaze. The hurt and devastation there. You didn't doubt the scene in the city looked much worse than you knew it to be. Rhys grabbed you by the wing and tugged you down forcefully. It was not what you were expecting, you thought his first move would be to use his power to make you paralyzed. You felt those claws lurking, but they seemed to hesitate. You spun, and were able to kick his hand off of you before you hit the ground with him. Azriel held him back, not understanding fully what you'd done. Az removed his hand once Rhys had filled him in, mentally speaking to his brother. A flash of shock and hurt lingered there even after Rhys told him. Shame built in your gut. You knew you weren't betraying them. You kept your shields up though, they had to think you would do such a thing. It would make the fight more believable to the king. It would force him away from Velaris. "Get out of this territory. Now. Do not come back." Rhys growled, watching the fake army invade his home. His chest heaved, those claws digging lightly at your shields. Perhaps he was afraid to go against someone he trained in the Daemati ways. You dared not open your mind to him. "Rhys I-" You began, stopping when he gave you the iciest glare you'd ever seen. His eyes were alight with rage. The trees seemed to quiver from the dark power that rushed to him. He pointed a finger at you, a curse. "Leave. Now." The command made your knees shake. Azriel looked away in shame. "There will be no second chances." He ground out. You could nearly hear his teeth clamping together. Holding himself back. You could hear Cassian calling orders far in the distance. Good, the scramble and panic would make the show more believable. The ships would be visible any second if your inside information was to be believed. Happiness for the safety of the city was your first reason for tears, the next was Fear. Fear settled in your gut, not moving no matter how much you re assured yourself. Not fear for Velaris, but for own alliances with any court. There would be a hit out for you, betraying Beron and the King and potentially Rhys depending how angry he would be about your Illusion spell. Those ships would surely be paying a visit to Beron after seeing his forces attacking without the order to do so. You backed away from Rhys slowly, like he was a wild animal. "Rhys, come on. We need to help." Azriel placed a hand on his shoulder to break him out of the rage filled trance. Rhy's last glance to you was something like death itself. You shuddered, and bit the inside of your cheek to keep from telling him the truth. The fact he would believe that you would double cross him stung a bit. But you knew enough of the bad blood between Night and Autumn that you weren't incredibly offended. He shook his head ever so slightly. Disgust, before turning away. They took off together, quickly flying back to Velaris while the king's dark sails fired a few cannon shots into the docks, but kept sailing. Your hope soared at the sight of their departure. Watching those sails turn direction, then keep going. You could have cheered. Your plan wasn't done yet. You took off to Day court. The potions in your bag secure and ready. + When Rhys landed in his city the ground beneath him cracked. The Autumn court soldiers kept marching around him. Cassian joined him, assessing the threat that did not attack. Rhys reached out a mental hand to the area and found there was nothing to latch on to. Nothing to torment for information. Cassian was at a loss as well, and reached out a hand to a solider. Only for it to break and slide through his fingers like water. His blood ran cold. "Fuck." Rhys breathed, utterly still. They looked to each other, then Rhys blanched in horror - "I promised them death." He whispered, voice hoarse. Cassian's eyes went wide, and they shot into the air at the same time. + Overlooking Day court, you heard Rhys approaching before you saw him. "They're all going to die." You said, voice trembling. You watched the scene below as it unfolded. The ships docked one after another, terrible dark forces lurched into the city. Overwhelming the guards and front linemen. "I'm sorry." He said. "We can help. I can help. I'm sorry." He said again, shame washing over his face. "I owe you everything." Your heart soared at the words, despite the destruction below. "Can you get the Illyrians here to help?" You nodded toward the front that pushed through. The streets already stained with blood and littered with bodies from both sides. Rhys nodded, and nodded to Azriel behind him. The spy curled his shadows around himself and winnowed away, off to summon the Illyrians. Cassian had a wide grin on his face, and stretched his wings, ready to take flight down to the city and help. His siphons thrummed with anticipation. Rhys gave him a nod as well, and he took off. The screams and clash of steel below quieted, then roared back to life with another wave of Summer court forces hitting the enemy lines. Rhys sighed, his dark power curling around the hillside. "I am beyond words with you. I'm pissed, but I'm... awestruck." He took your hand without looking, running a thumb over apologetically. As if he was asking permission. You squeezed back, then gave him a soft smile. "Let's get to work." You dropped your bag to the ground and pulled out two more potions. You handed them to him, then pulled your blade from its sheathe. Rhys hummed in approval at the sight of your handiwork. He held up the dark liquid and admired it. "Remind me to give you a raise." He said, shaking the glass. You held his hand in place before he could shake it again. The sparkles from the enchanted sand inside swirled. "You're going to get me a new house. And a raise." You took the bottle from him, and winked. You leapt down the slope and into the air, flying faster when you heard his laugh gaining on you. A promise of violence against the King's army was laced with that laugh. An underlying darkness. You smiled wickedly and tossed your concoction to the ground far below. Setting your spellbound illusions free.

#rhys x reader #acotar fic #acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand

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