#but only I hear your heart beat followed by a loud boom

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You enter your apartment. It doesn’t really feel like yours anymore. That man, that gargantuan invader, has tainted your safe space. You keep your head down as you brush by Sy. He reaches to squeeze your wrist and promptly lets you go. 

You cringe as you march stiffly down the entryway. 

“Thank you, officers,” he says, “sorry to trouble ya like this. You have a good one.” 

“You too, sir,” one responds, “hopefully your homecoming gets a bit warmer.” 

The door shuts and you flinch. You stop in the living room, shoulders sloped, head down. You can’t stop the shaking. You hear him coming as Aika sits obediently in the corner. You glance at the dog, you don’t think she can help, you don’t know that she would. She’s loyal to her owner. 

Sy stalks into the front room as you cower, wring your hands in front of your chest. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. Instead, you watch his shadow as he fumes and paces around. He exhales, small mutters you can’t discern. Circling around and around then suddenly stomping towards you. 

You whimper and your eyes flick up as you take a step back, eyes watery with fear. He stops, just an inch away, chest puffing with fury. You bat your lashes as you wait, for what, you don’t know. For him to do something, anything. 

“How could you hurt me like that, sweetie?” He hisses. 

“I... don’t know--” 

“You hide from me. Scare me, like that?” His voice rises, quaking as you hear him struggling to control it, “call the f—the cops?” 

He can’t keep his voice from booming. He’s so loud. Like thunder crashing down around you. 

“After all I did for you, you treat me like a monster. Actin’ all scared like I’d ever hurt you!” He snarls, “I wouldn’t, sweetie, and you know it. What did I ever do to make you think that, huh?” He starts to pace again, throwing his hands out as he rants, “I told you—I'm not a bad man! I’m not! I wouldn’t hurt you!” He barks as Aika puts her head down, eyes on her own, “but you hurt me. You. Hurt. Me.” 

He growls and his nostrils flare as he comes back around it front of you. You peek at him from beneath tear-webbed lashes. Your heart thrums in your ears and your chest thumps. He raises his hand and you wince as he smacks himself in the head. You cry out in horror as he does it again, each time harder than the last as he continues his angry prowl. 

“Sy!” You squawk. 

He snarls again and beats himself with both hands, “maybe I deserve it, huh? This is what you want. For me to hurt.” 

“No, I--” you heave as a sob bubbles up your throat. You don’t like violence. You never wanted this. You just want him gone. To be left alone. 

He roars and throws his fist around, hitting the flower lamp off the end table. It flies off and the cord snags, sending it shattering to the floor. You whine and put your knuckles to your lips, horrified as he continues his fit. He grabs the table next, hurling it with one hand as if it weighs nothing. The draw slips out and the continues scatter. 

He spins again, puffing and panting, his face red and furious. He storms towards the opposite wall and before you can understand what’s happening, he bashes his face against it. He staggers back, grips his head and blindly stumbles around. 

You stand, dumbfounded, as he falls onto the couch. He sits and hangs his head, gripping it between his large hands. He breathes loudly as he leans his elbows on his knees. Your tears spill out as you hug yourself and sniffle. 

You babble as you feel something against your leg. You look down as Aika nuzzles against you. You reach down to touch her snout. She licks your palm and you turn your attention back to Sy. You’ve never witnessed anything like that. You never ever wanted to hurt him. You pity him more than anything, he seems so lost. 

You suck in a breath and swipe the wetness from your cheeks. You drag your foot forward as Aika stays close. You back up and go through to the kitchen. You take a clean dishcloth from the drawer and wet it under the faucet. You’re buzzing with adrenaline. You don’t know what you’re doing. 

You cross the room to Sy as his breaths huff in and out. You can see the blood on his forehead as he nears. You hesitate, furling and unfurling your fingers before you touch his muscled shoulder. 

“Sy,” you say softly. 

He ignores you, fingertips curling into his skull, “so stupid...” you make out the words under his breath. 

You squeeze him as Aika pokes her head under his arms and noses him from below. He sits up and scratches her head. He wobbles as his foggy eyes come into focus. He looks at you, a gash on his forehead and another across the bridge of his nose. You try not to react as you offer the wet cloth. 

He considers it and takes it with a sigh. He dabs at the blood on his face as he watches you. You bring your palms together, rubbing them nervously, as you bounce on your feet. 

“Thanks,” he mutters as Aika nudges his hand for more pets. He looks between you and the dog, “I-- I’m sorry. I let you down. Both of you.” 

He stands up and you back away, folding your hands over your chest as you make yourself small. He holds the cloth against his nose and grunts. He scowls and turns away. You don’t move as he marches to the bathroom. The door snaps shut just as Aika reaches it. You hear the lock click. 

You bite your lip and slowly glance towards the entry way. You stare. You could try again but to what end. Blair wouldn’t let you back in after you brought that chaos into her world and the police won’t do anything more than blame you again. 

Maybe it is your fault. Sy means well... 

No, no! He doesn’t belong there. This is your life.  

Aika’s paws pad down the hall and she sits by the door. She knows what you’re thinking it seems. Doesn’t matter, you have nowhere to go and no one to go to. 

You pivot carefully, searching for a distraction. What can you do now? You’re too addled to sit down and work or even hide away in the bedroom under the covers. You walk a circle around the room and stop yourself. You look at the wall, a smear of blood and a dent left by his collision. 

You return to the kitchen and grab a paper towel. You come back to wipe away blood. When you get most of it out, you start to clean up the rest of the mess. The lamp is broken. You put the shards in a box and leave it by the door. Then you gather up the random pens and notebook and right the table before tucking it all back in the drawer. 

As you stand up, you hear another click. You peer over as Sy appears. His shirt is gone. The cuts on his face are no longer bleeding but his eyes are still blazing. You gulp as his jaw tenses. 

“I’m sorry I broke your lamp,” he utters dully. 

You wet your lips with your tongue, “Do you want some tylenol?” 

His eyebrows arch and his cheek ticks. He nods slowly, “yes, sweetie.” 

You try to smile and your mouth quivers. You retreat and go to fetch the bottle of pills and some water. When you come back, he’s on the couch again.  

“Head sure does hurt,” he says as he accepts the glass and the tablets. 

You hum and nod. He throws back the pills and drains half the glass. He set the cup down and leans back, once more holding his head. 

“Do you think... maybe you should see a doctor?” You suggest. 

“I’m fine,” he growls, “got worse over in the sh—in the war.” 

You scrunch up your lips and twiddle your fingers. He drops his hands and brings his head straight. You fidget as he takes you in, his eyes narrow and his expression pained. He waves you closer, “come here.” 

You stop moving. You’re completely still as you stare him. His brow lowers dangerously. You near him reluctantly, wary of riling him again. 

“I’m sorry I yelled, sweetie,” he takes your hand and leans forward to kiss your knuckles, “I was worked up. I thought—I was crazy. I thought I lost you, you know? But I get it. You wanted to see your friend and she... she put her nose in our business and called in the cops, huh? Jealous, I bet.” 

You blanch. That’s not the truth. That isn’t what happened at all. You won’t argue. 

“Yeah,” you let him cling to your hand, “I think she was just worried because she didn’t recognise you. I’m... I’m sorry.” 

He looks up at you and his lips curve, “I know you’re sorry, sweetie,” he tugs on you, “but we’re all good now, aren’t we? I got you, you got me, everything’s as it should be.” 

He moves you and you let him. You know better than to break the illusion again. He angles you onto his lap and your body locks up. He hugs you to him, a hand on your leg, his other arm across your back. He purrs as he holds you close, leaning back as the tension seeps from him. 

“Just like this, sug, me and you,” he grits. 

🧸

You escape Sy’s embrace for the excuse of making breakfast. The task helps you keep your fears at bay though his presence looms just on the other side of the wall. Your helplessness is starting to feel like acceptance as the last of your denial dissipates. This is real. You are trapped. 

You plate up a heaping plate of bacon and eggs. You scrape butter onto toast and bring it out to the table. You teethe your lip as you stand in the archway of the front room. 

“Food’s ready, Sy,” you squeak. 

He sits up and groans as he stretches. He stands, towering over you as he looks even broader without his shirt. Somehow you keep forgetting how big he really is. 

He crosses the room and you scurry back to the kitchen. You hear him pull the chair out as you grab your leftover french toast and bring it out. You’re not very hungry, in fact you feel sick to your stomach. Still, you know you have to play along. 

That sound, the one of his head hitting the plaster, keeps replaying in your head. You hate it. As much as he scares you, as much as he’s a stranger, you don’t want to be the reason he’s hurt. You stare at your plate glumly as you cut into the cold eggy bread. 

“Thank you, sweetie,” he undercuts your gloom with his bright tone, “sure smells good.” 

You glance up, poking at the toast with your fork, “sorry, all I had was turkey bacon.” 

“S’all good,” he tears a strip in half and takes a bite. 

You muster a smile and drop your gaze back to your food. You take a bite of the stale, syrupy bread. You chew mechanically, bite by bite, and choke it all down. You think of how he might react if you let the food go to waste. He paid for it after all. At least the berries add a bit of flavour. 

“You should make a video today,” he says abruptly. 

Your eyes flick up and you blink, “oh, uh, maybe not today--” 

“Your followers will be wanting to check in, won’t they? You can’t leave them hanging.” 

“Um, well, I’ll think about it later---” 

“You know, sweetie, like I said, you got me through some tough days. You’re all I had out there. Who knows, maybe there’s others who feel the same, you know?” He scoops up eggs on his fork and hovers them over the plate, “and you’re special. The world needs more of you.” 

“Thanks, er, I’m just... tired is all.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t be so tired if you hadn’t snuck out to the couch, huh?” He challenges. 

You’re surprised by the admonishment. You wince and give a shrug, “yeah, I guess--” 

“I could help ya with the video. We could do something fun. Maybe... we could go for a walk with Aika. She loves the wilderness. Specially when there aren’t bombs hidin’.” 

You look down guiltily. You don’t blame him for wanting out of his old life. For being so excited to be away from the chaos. And you feel worse because you’ve taken all you have for granted. Each time he talks, he reminds you of your ignorance. 

“I guess... that sounds nice,” you sniff. 

“Sounds perfect to me,” he swallows his mouthful, “walking around with my girls, showing ‘em off.” He grins, “couldn’t ask for anything more.” 

#captaiin syverson #dark captain syverson #dark!captain syverson #captain syverson x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #sandcastle #follow you anywhere

[meidnightrain]

HE IS LOVED❞ - aventurine

summary: he has been many things in his life, loved is one of them

warnings: reader is gn, angst, spoilers for 2.1 penacony quest

notes: maybe this counts as hurt/comfort, i'm not too sure actually. we have another one week to go before his release :)))

taglist(open): @akutasoda , @ryuryuryuyurboat , @toorurs , @yvnaology , @tragedy-of-commons , @staarri , @rainswept

“what am i to you?” the words falter even before they leave his lips, willing himself not to let his guard down even in front of you.

AVENTURINE has dreaded asking this question, lingering in his mind the first time he knew that he wanted you. your eyes twinkled under the fluorescent lights; they are stars in the lifeless abyss that is his. when the world comes to a standstill, the blaring music of the bar does not bore into the crevices of your brain any longer. everyone is frozen around you; only you two are unaffected by time.

you make him feel like he’s gambling, his heart racing faster than a car trying to beat the red light. it is not exhilaration; it is fear. it is his hand clenched under the table, shaking so violently, waiting for luck to run out eventually. the voices in his head grow, swirling like a sandstorm back on sigonia-iv. 

failure discarded selfish useless pointless coward murderer gambler blessed discarded loser chosen-one mother goddess's beloved crazy murderer

it’s the same feeling he gets when he prays to the mother goddess for the dice to fall in his favor, or his heart will be the price. the sand stings his eyes; it burns him. it takes him back to a time when all his problems were simpler than they are now.

blessed failure discarded loser pointless coward murderer chosen—one selfish, blessed, discarded loser

how does AVENTURINE live, knowing that everyone is gone because of him? why would you ever like him, who has the blood of innocents on his hand? why would you ever care for him, who has brought doom to his entire family? why would you ever love him, who is not worth more than a few copper coins? 

“are you okay?” your voice is soft under the howling sandstorm, and his breaths come off as ragged as he nods your concern away with a gambler’s grin. your lips move, but he cannot hear a thing. the world is too loud for him to hear, and he is suffocating. he faltered—one step, then two. he brushed it off; he stood straight, but he tripped. he is sinking; the floor is made of quicksand, but no one is there to pull him out. it’s overwhelming—the flashing lights and the booming bass—and the colours blur together in a dazzling display that makes him sick and makes him small.

and he can feel you shaking him by the shoulders in an attempt to snap him out of this daze, but he sinks deeper and deeper into this feeling that he has struggled to repress all this while. it makes you feel helpless, his mind spiralling down to where you cannot follow, watching him crumble due to your silence.

chosen-one loser discarded pointless coward murderer gambler blessed discarded useless loser chosen—one selfish mother goddess’s beloved

he does not realise that you have whisked him away to one of the private rooms of the casino. his chest is heaving with every breath he takes; it's like the hourglass he's in has tipped over and AVENTURINE is drowning in sand.

“how can you love someone who can’t even love himself?” his voice does not crack; it shatters in all the wrong places at the wrong time. he is not humiliated, nor is he embarrassed; he is exhausted. he has hidden for so long underneath rose-shaped lenses, kept his cards close to his chest, and hated himself so much that he could never imagine himself being loved. he is undeserving, he is a burden, he is unlovable, he is unlucky, and he is cursed. he is a loser. 

loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser loser.

you are calm, and the storm quells at the touch of your hand on his shoulder. the sand clears, the grains dissolve from his eyes, and he can see you. he can see the crinkle of your smile and the way the wind plays and tousles your hair; he sees all of you, and you see all of him. "by loving you. with everything that i am, you are not unloveable."

"you may not be able to love yourself right now, but i love you enough for the both of us." your arms enveloped every part of his trembling figure, and he held onto you for dear life, unwilling to let go.

AVENTURINE will never love himself. he doesn’t need to if he has you by his side. for all the love he had, it belonged to only you and his family. 

© AVENTURNE 2024. DO NOT COPY, REPOST, SHARE, TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD MY WORKS ONTO ANY OTHER SITE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

#🗞️ - honkai star rail fics #—stellaronhvnters. #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr angst #honkai star rail angst #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine

[stayteezdreams]

Stranded Together

Plot: You and San get stranded at the only available motel you can find during a storm. Good news, there's one room left. Bad news, this motel is totally haunted.

Request: 'You're in a hotel with doubles beds, you keep hearing scary noises and end up in the same bed'

Requested by: @tumbleboof

Pairing: Choi San x Gn!Reader (friends to lovers)

Warnings: Creepy content. Mildly suggestive content. (A good mixture of fluff and creepiness.)

A/n: Not my bedroom door creaking open for no reason as I was writing this DX

Words: 2.1k

This really wasn't how you expected your night to end up. You thought you would be on a plane heading home, but instead, you and San were staring at the small eerily empty room of a motel in the middle of God knows where.

Both of you were tired, but the unsettling atmosphere was sending shocks of adrenaline through both of you. You knew you would be awake for most of the night.

It all started with grid-locked traffic that caused you and San to miss the flight with the rest of the boys. Then you made the decision to drive two hours to the next city to get a flight, since no other would be available at your previous location until the next day.

But of course, the weather was not on your side. Halfway there, a storm alert panicked your taxi driver, and instead of ending up at an airport, you ended up at a terrifying motel surrounded by nothing but trees and fields just as the storm started.

The good news in all of this, was that they had an available room. The bad news was of course, that the motel was terrifying and seemed to come right out of every ghost movie you'd ever watched.

Now you and San were walking silently around the small room, wondering if you were going to get any sleep at all tonight. Between the haunting location, the whistling wind, and booming thunder outside, you weren't too sure.

You sat down on the edge of one of the beds, while San sighed and lied down on the other.

"At least the beds are comfy." He mumbled.

You smiled, "Too bad this place is objectively creepy."

He chuckled as he grabbed the remote on the nightstand. "This should help."

Turning on the tv, an unfamiliar show began playing but the sound instantly made the quiet room more comfortable.

"I'm glad I'm not alone though." San said with a smile to you and you chuckled, trying to ignore how your heartbeat picked up.

Of course being alone in this place would be much more terrifying, but you were sure your nervously beating heart may prefer if it had been someone else. But no, it was San, the one person you were head-over-heels for. Who you were now stuck in a room alone with.

You weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. Though, unbeknownst to you, the night would reveal which.

After you both changed into pajamas, you sat in silence as you watched the movie on the TV. There was an unsettling tension hanging between you as you shared nervous looks every time you heard an unfamiliar sound.

Creaks in the hallway, thuds from the closet, even the sound of footsteps on what would be the rooftop.

When a loud clang sounded in the bathroom, you jumped as you looked over at San who was frozen, staring at the darkened bathroom. He slowly met your eyes and you shared a conversation without speaking.

'You check.'

'Why me, you check!'

Reaching out his hand you followed his movements as you played rock, paper, scissors.

As you stared at your flat hand and his two out-stretched fingers, you cursed as you eyed the bathroom.

Slowly getting up with a sigh, you crept towards the bathroom aware of San's eyes following you closely.

Reaching out, you pushed open the ajar door, and the creaking sounds filled the room, sending goosebumps up your arms. Quickly switching on the light your heart jumped, but you were filled with uneasy relief as you saw nothing. In all honesty, you were hoping to find a rat, anything that might explain the noises other than ghosts.

Spotting a clothes hangar on the floor, you picked it up, aware that it had been hanging on the shower rod before.

Stepping out into the room, you showed it to San. "It fell."

"How?" San questioned and you shrugged setting it on the TV stand, trying not to think too much about it.

Lying back down you groaned, "I almost wish we were stranded in the car still."

San chuckled, but he felt the same. He had previously been buzzing with nervous excitement at the idea of sharing a room with you. But he wasn't expecting the creepy motel to steal his thoughts away from you.

Hearing a scratching sound from the closet beside your bed, you jolted up. You groaned as you wiggled around in frustration.

San eyed you before he moved over to one side of his bed, "Hey."

You looked over at him and he patted the bed beside him. You rose your brow and he smiled, "I think we'll both feel better."

"What, if we cuddle?" You asked teasingly, but your heart was racing

He raised his brow and spoke in an even more teasing tone, obviously trying to help lighten the mood. "If you want."

You rolled your eyes but did not reject the idea as you walked over to his bed, crawling in beside him. You kept a few inches between you, not actually cuddling with him. Though, he was secretly disappointed at this.

You brought your knees up to your chest as you tried to focus on the TV again, now acutely aware of Sans presence, and the unfamiliar noises around you.

Your eyes drifted over to the closet again and San leaned closer, "Want me to look this time?"

You jumped at this before hissing, looking over at him, ignoring the proximity of his face. He grinned, amused that he scared you.

"No, it's fine." You said, trying to repress your fear.

"Are you still scared?" He asked, amusement in his tone.

You rolled your eyes, "You're scared too!"

"Am not!" He challenged and you gasped.

"Oh please, you are just as freaked out as I am, admit it!"

Before he could speak, you both froze as the sound of footsteps sounded in the hall.

"Okay, I am." He admitted suddenly and you felt him move a bit closer to you.

You resisted the urge to lean back into his presence for comfort.

You stared at the door and spoke softly, "It's just another guest."

San nodded, "Right."

As the footsteps got louder, they stopped right in front of your door. you and San waited silently. Were they going to knock? Were they looking for their room?

Another moment passed and no noise was heard. You nervously looked over at San, now worried about what the unknown person was going to do.

San rose and you watched with baited breath as he crept as softly as he could to the door before peering through the peep hole.

Stepping away a moment later, he turned to you and his face was blank, but fear was obvious in his eyes. "There's no one out there."

How? You heard the footsteps come, but not leave? Where would they have gone?

"That's not funny." Your voice was obviously shaken.

San just shook his head softly. "I'm not joking."

Suddenly a bright flash filled the room before a clap of thunder shook the walls. Darkness filled the room and you let out a yelp as you jumped back. You heard hurried footsteps before San jumped into the bed, his arms wrapping around you as you heard his own startled breaths.

You gripped onto his arm for a moment before you both relaxed, taking a few breaths.

"Oh my God." You mumbled out as you let out a few deep breaths.

Silence hung in the air for a moment before you both let out nervous laughs.

"That was such bad timing." San mumbled between nervous chuckles, still holding onto you.

"Were you serious? There was no one outside?"

He nodded, "There was no one. Maybe they just walked away really softly?"

"Yeah." You agreed, though doubt was obvious in your tone.

Looking towards San, you could just see his face due to the full-moon light coming through the windows. His face was barely an inch from yours, his breath brushed your skin.

When you spoke, your nose almost brushed his. He felt your breath on his lips and he felt a shiver of temptation crawl through him.

"I'm scared." Your voice was a whisper.

You felt San's grip tighten ever-so-slightly around you. He replied, his voice just as quiet. "Me too. But it's okay, I've got you."

His words, and touch comforted you, and you felt safer than you had all night. He was and always would be a safe place for you, even if he drove your heart crazy.

"Stay here tonight." He mumbled, his nose now brushing yours.

Your heart was beating like crazy and you wondered if he could feel it. But his words confused you.

"What else would I do, find another motel?" You asked softly, almost amused

He let out a soft breathy laugh, before shaking his head. "No, I meant here. In my bed."

Your heart leapt to your throat and your breath hitched. Sharing a room with him was hard enough, but sharing the same bed?

He could sense your reservation and he wondered if it was out of discomfort, or the same fear of temptation and hidden feelings he held.

"Only if you're comfortable. But...I think it might be less frightening. And I would feel better if I knew you were close."

A thousand thoughts rushed though your head as you softly nodded, "Okay."

You stared in silence at each other, his face slowly becoming more visible as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. You thought you saw his eyes flick to your lips and linger for a moment but you felt it might just be your eyes seeing things unclearly.

Slowly, you felt his hands move from around your arms to your waist, and you felt a shiver run up your spine. His breath seemed to brush your face more than before as you wondered if he was inching closer.

As another flash of lightning lit up the room, you jumped, before suddenly freezing as San gripped you close, his lips smashing into yours.

Astonishment and excitement ran through you as you realized he was kissing you. But before you could return the kiss, he was pulling away.

"I'm sorry." The words rushed out, and you felt your heart drop a little.

Your eyes locked as silent hung between you for a moment. Butterflies rushed through you, but so did disappointment at his sudden regret.

"Why are you sorry?" You asked softly, a hint of despondence in your tone he did not miss.

"What?" He felt hope rise in his chest as his heart beat heavily.

He was surprised at his own actions, as he moved without thinking, finally having kissed you like he had been imagining for ages.

"Why are you sorry?" You repeated.

Silence hung in the air for a second as you felt his hands tighten on your waist again.

"I guess I'm not." He mumbled out before you felt his lips meet yours again as he quickly pulled you against his chest.

The kiss became heated as your hands found his neck and hair, your fingers causing a shiver to course through him. His own hands pressed into your skin as he pulled you closer.

Another heated moment passed before you both pulled away, letting out breathy laughs as he rested his forehead against yours. He kissed you again, but pulled away a moment later, not wanting to act on his impulsiveness quite yet. And definitely not here.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long." He breathed out before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You grinned as you let out a soft giggle. "The feeling's mutual."

"I definitley wasn't expecting this to be how, or where, I admitted it."

You chuckled as you were reminded of your surroundings. Being reminded even more when a bang sounded from the hallway, making you jolt.

You let out a soft gasp as San suddenly pushed you down in the bed before covering the both of you with the sheets. Realizing he was hiding the two of you, you laughed.

He chuckled as he pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you. "There, now we're safe, nothing can get us."

You giggled again as you placed your face against his chest, as he placed his head on yours, pulling you even closer and letting out a contented sigh.

"Can't say it wasn't a unique confession." He mumbled.

"It'll make for a great story." You admitted and he let out a soft laugh.

"A love story or a ghost story?"

"Both?"

He laughed as he nodded his head, pressing a kiss to the top of yours before cuddling you closer. "Both."

xx End xx

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669

Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @thunderous-wolf

#Choi San x Reader #Choi San/Reader #san x reader #san/reader #ateez x reader #ateez/reader #choi san imagine #choi san fic #ateez fic #ateez imagine #13 days of halloween #ateez halloween fic #choi san halloween fic #choi san x gn!reader #ateez fanfic #san fanfic #13 days of halloween: day 2 #ateez halloween #choi san fluff

[mothdruid]

Hi my lovely abby! For your birthday blurb weekend celebration I’d like to request this storm prompt: ⋆ "come here, i'll keep you safe. swear." With Anakin please and thank you❤️❤️hope you have the best day and happiest birthday! Love and hugs💕

Safe

pairing: Anakin Skywalker x afab!reader

word count: 900

a/n: ps. sorry if there are any inaccuracies with my star wars lore. i haven't watched anything star wars related in years. my love for anakin only recently resurfaced

A shudder ran through you as you listened to the unrelenting storm outside. The rain was pounding down outside, thunder clapping frequently with lighting following shortly after. It was making it hard to sleep. Each loud clap of thunder was frightening you back awake. Every shock of lightning illuminated your room.

Kamino was nothing but an endless ocean. As someone who grew up on Mandalore, it was hard to be okay with this watery landscape they called a planet. Especially with how severe the storms were. You had had the occasional storm on Mandalore growing up, but nothing like this. You were surprised the buildings were still standing above what.

Being sent here felt almost like a punishment. You knew it was necessary, but hell. The only thing making it better was the people you had been sent there with. Obi-wan had been the one to ask for you, which apparently Anakin encouraged. When Ahsoka said that you couldn't help the flutter in your chest.

You weren't sure what it was, but there was just something about Anakin that made your heart beat a little faster. The two of you had been on one assignment together. That was the beginning of it all, and now you could barely get him out of your mind.

Ever since the storm had started you wondered if he was like you. If he was staring at the ceiling, hoping for some calm. Or if he was fast asleep, the storm barely even noticeable. You closed your eyes, mind wandering to more thoughts of Anakin. Just as your mind was wondering if he was in his normal sleep ware. His broad chest cover by nothing, only a loose fitting pair of black pants on his waist.

Boom! Crack!

You sat up that time, chest rising and falling quickly. You dug your nails into your palms. Tightness tugged at all of your muscles. You needed to do something else besides just laying there. Without another thought you got up and headed to grab your robe.

After putting your robe on, you opened your door and moved into the hallway. At least in the hallway the storm didn't sound as loud. You didn't have a plan in mind. At this point, if you needed to walk around the halls all night to feel better you would. So, that's what you did.

The halls were empty, except for the occasional guard. Your foot steps were being drowned out by the sound of the storm outside. Hell, your thoughts were starting to become drowned out by the noise. You were starting to wonder how any of these guards were staying focus with all of the noise.

While lost in thought you rounded the corner of the hall, hoping to continue walking. Instead you were met with another body. The two of you bumped into each other, obvious that neither of you were really paying attention. Strong hands steadied you, keeping you up straight as you regained your balance.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry," you started apologizing immediately, ready to start hear some guard yell at you. It never came though.

"Hey, it's okay," a familiar voice said.

Everything started clicking into place in your mind. The strong hands and chest, soft yet firm voice. You had slammed directly into the man who had been plaguing your thoughts all night so far.

"Anakin, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention," you apologized again.

"Like I said, it's okay," a soft smile was on his lips. "What's got you up this late anyway?"

"Oh, I just am having a hard time sleeping," you tugged the front of your robe around you a little more.

Anakin was exactly as you had imagined him. Black robe, black pants, no shirt. Tonight really just wasn't your night. First the storm and now him.

"Is there any particular thing keeping you up?" His tone had a bit of concern to it, something that wasn't too common for him.

"Oh no, not real-"

As if the storm knew what you were about to say, a loud boom of thunder clapped outside. You tilted your head inward, drawing away from the loud sound as your body tensed. Anakin's hand on your arm tightened a little bit, as if he was still trying to keep you up right. Lightning flashed and leaked in through the windows of the hallway.

"I don't like the storm either," he whispered reassuringly.

"I'm just not used to them like this," you started, "not with the water and everything. It makes me worried."

"Worried?"

"Yeah, like what if it gets too bad and something happens?" The nerves were making your voice shake a little.

"Come here, I'll keep you safe. Swear."

Without warning, Anakin's arms slipped around you and pulled you into him. The soft skin of his broad chest was pressed against your cheek now. You let your arms wrap around him, holding him in a similar embrace that he had you in.

The two of you sat there like that long enough for another loud boom of thunder to occur. That time when you tensed Anakin was there, arms wrapped tightly around you and holding you close. His embrace almost made you forget about the storm, the loud noise being the only thing reminding you now. Even the lightning had ceased to exist with face nestled into his chest. For the rest on the night the storm didn't bother you.

thank you so so much for asking for my boy ani!!! i really hope you enjoy this fluffy blurb<3

don't forget to send blurbs in for my birthday event!

birthday blurb weekend!

#moths 26th #blurb weekend #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin fluff #anakin skywalker fluff #star wars fluff #star wars fic

[reve-writes]

—rhythm lines; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x f!reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this ask. | reader is a stage dancer who catches the attention of the dirtyhands himself. ʚ ooc kaz he is so straightforward in this one; bad knowledge of stage dancing; alcohol consumption. ʚ a/n i added in a courtesan-type persona for the reader, i hope you don't mind. this is slightly long. ive been reading a couple of novels with stage dancers as part of the main cast.

The music starts, booming and loud—a cacophony of instruments that cues you and the four other dancers into a flow of eight-count movements. In your head, you're counting your steps. High-heeled shoes tap tap tapped against the polished hardwood stage. You can't quite make out most of the faces of your audience, obscured in shadows by the overwhelmingly bright stage lights, but when you stand in front of the formation, you flash a million-kruge smile.

A loud cheer erupts.

You suddenly feel very much alive.

You may have done the routine countless times since your employment at the Golden Peacock, but each time you set foot on stage, the rush of exhilaration stays the same. It makes your heart pound as your limbs move purposefully, an extension of your body as you continue to follow the counts and music.

The light dims and the music flows into a slower pace. Out of the corner of your eye, you see movement. Then, as the stage light moves away from you, you spot him. A hat casts a shadow over his face, but you know him. His head tilts up slightly and from across the theatre, your eyes lock.

Kaz Brekker is watching your show? The Dirtyhands himself?

You shoot your practised smile and turn, still following the dance routine you've practised, until you hear a booming crack and the lights suddenly die out.

It's immediately followed by shrieks of panic. A burning smell permeates the air. You feel one of your colleagues grabbing onto your elbow. This cannot be a coincidence. Brekker most likely has something to do with it, does he not? But he is aware that the Golden Peacock, the establishment he's setting his foot in, forbids any sort of gang activity. This is neutral territory.

It doesn't take a minute for the lights to come back on. Your eyes scan over the crowd and he's right there, sitting on the third row from the front, appearing as nonchalant as ever.

The manager of the shows, Madam de Vries, steps on stage with a microphone and announces that everything is under control and performance will resume shortly. Your eyes narrow at Kaz Brekker and he's staring back at you, dark eyes betraying no emotions.

As the music starts playing once more and you take position, you find yourself being unexplicably drawn to his presence—your eyes sweep over the audience, only to linger on him a beat too long and every time you catch he's staring back at you, as if he's been looking at you the whole time.

The curtains fall and you step off the stage as the claps and cheers slowly fade away. After the show, performers usually lounge around on the first floor where there's an attached bar to the theatre. The dancers socialise with their patrons, pour a drink or two to coax tips out of them. You're usually looking forward to the evening chat, but it seems the incident really caused quite a scare and festivities are dying down before it even begins.

You sigh, hauling your satchel on your shoulder and make your way out of the Golden Peacock. Your costume is stuffed in your bag as you've opted for a more comfortable casual attire. Walking out of the side door, you find yourself face-to-face with the Dirtyhands himself.

You see him, but say nothing, immediately walking past. You don't know each other, really. Ghezen, this is the first time you've seen him in the Golden Peacock.

“You're one of the dancers.”

It stops you on your tracks. Your body twists to look back at him. “And you're talking to... me?”

Your voices echo slightly in the small alley. He nods, gloved hands gesturing to the emptiness around him. “Is there anyone else I could be talking to?”

Well, not exactly. Unless he finds dumpsters entertaining conversation partners.

“Then, yes, I'm one of the dancers,” you reply, turning on your heel to face him completely. He takes a couple steps closer to you, careful not to step on the numerous puddles left by the horrible Ketterdam weather as of late.

“The performance was wonderful.”

“Thank you, Mr. Brekker.”

“Kaz is fine.”

Your head tilts slightly to the side. “Mr. Brekker is fine.”

There are implications within your reply: you are not quite at first name basis and you don't want to cross that border of professionalism with him yet. He is, after all, the Dirtyhands. An intimidating figure in the barrel with entirely too much power for someone so young. A word from him can make or break anyone in this part of Ketterdam.

Perhaps you should've been more amicable.

He raises his hands in a surrendering manner, one of them is clutching the crow-headed cane he's known for. “Whatever suits you. What about yours?”

“Mine?”

“Your name.”

You tell him your name and he helps himself to calling you by your first name. He has no regards for professionalism. Not when it comes to you.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he says. “Would you like me to walk you?”

You shake your head immediately. “I'll be alright, Mr. Brekker. Nice to meet you, as well.”

With that, you swiftly walk away. Associating yourself with gang members is one thing, but with the leaders? That has to come with a lot of downsides.

You've come to find out that a painting was stolen that evening. A landscape, they say. Worth three million kruge. You wouldn't be surprised if it's sitting nice and pretty on the wall of Brekker's office. You feign ignorance, of course. Tittle-tattle never ends well in this part of Ketterdam. Not unless one wants a target on their back.

When you enter the dressing room, you see an oversized flower arrangement by your vanity. Tess, your colleague, looks at you as if she's been eagerly anticipating your arrival.

“Ghezen,” she says. “Brekker, huh? And I thought I took risky clients.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What are you talking about?”

Her head tilts towards the flowers. A series of roses and hydrangeas and carnations stacked inside a basket that takes up the whole surface of the vanity desk. In the middle of it is a hand-written note.

Looking forward to tonight's performance. I'm not sure what your preferrence on flowers are. Perhaps we can discuss it after the show. —Kaz.

You look at Tess, mouth agape, and then back down at the note. Your eyes scanning the letters repeatedly.

“Am I reading this correctly?”

Tess chuckles. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“We don't—” You're not entirely sure how to phrase it. “We're only acquaintances.”

“It doesn't appear so.”

You look at Tess—and the flowers—and back at Tess again.

“It doesn't,” you relent.

It's a new routine—the steps are slower, music more melancholic, but the performance hypnotises the crowd all the same. When you're lounging around the first floor of the Golden Peacock, a drink on hand, many come to pay compliments for the show. You smile, entertain the small talks and crack a couple of jokes.

“Excuse me.” You give a conspiratory grin as you step back from a conversation. Across the room, sitting at the bar, is Kaz Brekker, who's practically staring holes into you. Your dress flows behind you as you swiftly make your way towards him.

“Evening,” you greet, sliding into the seat next to him. He nods at you. “Thank you for the flowers.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Don't mention it. Although I do wonder if you have any preferences? Lilies, perhaps?”

“I've never given it much thought, but i do like jasmines.”

“Jasmines, then,” he says.

“Do you send flowers to people in your free time?”

“Well, not people, only you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Charming.”

“If I were to ask you to dinner, what would you say?”

“Well, Mr. Brekker—”

“Kaz.”

“Kaz,” you relent. “I would consider it.”

He takes a sip of his drink. “I hope you do.”

With that, he leaves quietly, and it's like he was never there at all, except for the fact that you find your eyes keep darting around the room at similar silhouettes, at every curved hat and black coat. Even the drinks don't quite wash away the effects of his presence.

This is the third time this week.

On your weekend show, as you're moving across the stage, shoes clicking and arms following precise movements you've practised, you spot him again. Up on one of the private boxes, eyes drilling into you as he watches you and only you throughout the whole performance.

The flowers come every day without fail. Jasmines are the main part of the bouquet, along with a handwritten note encouraging you for your performances. The gesture is terribly sweet and you find yourself getting sentimental, starting to build quite a collection of the notes.

You've never been nervous—not when you've been doing this almost seven days a week for years, but lately, you find yourself tapping your foot on the ground, unable to settle before each performance, anxious whether or not you will find spot in the audience.

And when you don't find him, disappointment almost drowns you, making it harder to breathe in your corsets and feathery costumes.

You've never changed faster in your life, already making your way to the first floor even as Tess has barely started taking off her jewellery. Kaz Brekker has this effect on you, you've discovered. His presence calls for that giddiness—an anticipatory response to his very presence. You keep looking forward to conversing with him.

He looks dashing—usual dark coat and dark hat and dark vest over dark shirt. A couple of patrons seem to have taken interest in the Dirtyhands, perhaps clamouring in hopes of an alliance or just an attempt to make acquaintance with one of the most powerful gang leaders in the Barrell. Either way, he excuses himself immediately when he sees you.

“You're a marvel to witness on stage.”

“Flatterer.” You roll your eyes. “One of these days you'll run out of flattery.”

“For you? Never.”

“Can I take you up on the dinner offer?” You ask finally. Kaz seems taken aback, the offer has been left on the table for a little too long, but you're actually saying yes.

“Of course. When are you free?”

“Is right now okay?”

“I would've preferred it if I can make arrangements in advance,” he answers. Head already running through his plans. Restaurants. Flowers. After-dinner activities.

“We can save the arrangements for next time,” you suggest. “Spontaneous dinner can be quite lovely too, can't it?”

He bites back a smile with the insinuation of 'next time'. “With a lovely company, yes.”

He offers you his arm and you rest your hand in the crook of his elbow, skin warm on the soft material of his coat.

“Will I get to see the painting?”

He tilts his head quizzically.

“The first time you were here. You took it.” You lower your voice conspiratorily. “I want to see it.”

He gives you a small, lop-sided smile. “If that's what you wish.”

And there it is again—the anticipatory restlessness, giddy to see what he will offer you.

[ ]

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #—ki writes 🍯

[riddledwithrats]

In The Midnight Hour

Chapter Four: And It Feels Like Home

>chapters one, two, three

Summary: Reader is taken to Falcone's office and beaten within an inch of her life.

Words: 1,808 (kinda short but I wanted to give y’all at least a little bit! one more chapter left :))

Warnings: kidnapping, extreme violence, death threats, major character death, degradation, religious imagery, hurt/comfort (18+)

“I thought you made a deal, boss?”

Voices ring in your ears and blood drips out of your nose and mouth. There’s no light and you can’t tell if it’s because the room is dark or if your eyes are shut.

“I only made that deal to placate Oz, he’s a fuckin’ schmuck if he thinks I’m just gonna let her go.”

You groan and try to roll over but your arm shoots out in pain, and a squeal of agony wretches its way through your throat. You’re too delirious to recognize the voices, your ears sound all fuzzy and you can’t see anything.

Tears begin to roll down your face as you gently prod at your eyes, they’re almost fully swollen shut. Someone has been wailing on you for a very long time it seems.

“Oh, look. The bitch is awake!” A rough voice says near you, it only gets closer. You can feel the wretched breath on your neck, it reeks of whiskey and tequila. A delicate touch follows the trail of your tears, slowly beginning to scratch the tip of their nail into your skin.

You cry out in pain, your eyes beginning to open just slightly. A sliver of light blinds you, and Falcone's face comes into view. His face is deep red, he’s seething as he stares daggers into you.

“How fucking could you?” You begin to shake and whimper as he grabs you roughly by the shoulders. His grip is excruciating, you can feel bruises forming already. “You let him fucking slobber all over you like a dog, you WHORE. DID YOU THINK I WOULDN’T FIND OUT?”

You can’t think, all you can do is scream, cry, and whimper. He begins to laugh at you.

“I just can’t wrap my head around it, angel.” He leans back a little, sitting on his knees beside your trembling form. “He’s fucking incompetent, he’s an idiot for Christ's sake! What does he got that I don’t, baby?”

Falcone grabs you by the throat and makes you look him in the eyes. He’s waiting for an answer, squeezing your windpipe periodically.

“I said, what does he got that I DON’T?” Falcone shouts and it makes your ears ring. Your mouth is dry and you can barely form words in your head but you mutter an answer out anyways.

“A heart.” Your throat begins to feel like it’s closing.

He doesn’t seem to enjoy this answer.

He grabs you by the sides of your head and begins slamming your head down onto the floor. You can’t stop screaming. Everything begins to go by in slow motion.

The air flows around you like nothing is happening, the sun shines into the office. It bounces orange and yellow light all around you, it looks so beautiful.

Stars begin to form in your sight, you can’t hear anything and you can barely focus your eyes but Falcone hasn’t let up. You feel so helpless. His hands make their way back to your throat, he pushes his thumbs into the front of your esophagus, and it burns. Your lungs feel like they’ve callapsed, your vision is even blurrier than before and you’re sure you’ve lost more than a few brain cells at this point. All you can see is the rage in his eyes.

The elevator door dings.

“CARMINE.”

Oz steps in, he’s fuming. There’s a gun in his hand. Falcone only stops once he hears Oz’s booming voice and his brace clinking against the floor. He looks up at him in awe.

Oz looks ethereal. The sun shines down on him like a halo.

A vague idea enters your head. Your gaze flickers to Falcone; Adam. To the gun; The Apple.

And finally, to Oz. A great, big, powerful Serpent.

A loud bang echoes through the office. A heavy weight falls onto your chest, and slickness splatters onto your face. Your heart is beating so fast, you’re finally free.

Your eyes fall shut and you can’t open them anymore.

Waking up in a hospital is jarring, specifically because you hadn’t expected to wake up at all. But the sterile white walls, the linen covers, and the fluorescent lights weren’t entirely unwelcome.

There’s a brace on your arm and on one of your knees, but you don’t feel any pain. You look at your injuries in confusion, why didn’t they hurt?

“They’ve got you on a lot of painkillers, sweetheart.” The rumbling voice cracks as it speaks. You look over to your left, Oz is sitting in a chair that looks much too small for him. There’s a pillow and a blanket next to him, as well as a cup of water and some magazines. He looks tired like he hasn’t taken his eyes off you in days. “Wasn’t sure you were gonna wake up, doll.”

Oz begins to choke up, he looks ecstatic that you’re awake but he just can’t stop crying. You don’t remember much of what happened. All you can remember is the pain… and the sun.

You don’t see the sun now though, it looks to be pitch black outside, like it’s the middle of the night. Oz reaches a hand out towards yours, he holds your hand gently.

“I-I’ll call the nurse, sweetheart.” He stands up and presses a button next to your bed.

“Did you kill him, Oz?” You ask as he freezes in place, hand still hovering to your side. He looks at you, visibly stiff like he wasn’t prepared for the question but simultaneously like he knew you were going to ask it from the moment you woke up.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Yeah, I did.”

He sits back down and waits for your reply, watching every tiny twitch of your face to gauge your reaction.

“Good.” You whisper out, eyes closed and leaning back into the barely-comforting cushion of the hospital bed. It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, you feel light and free like every chain that had been holding you down finally snapped.

He snorts out a small laugh, but when you sneak a look at him he looks incredibly solemn. You’re sure there’s a lot of stuff that has unraveled, or been brought up, because of his killing Falcone. The foundation of his business has become shaky and fragile, plenty of people are going to try and make a feeble attempt at the newly opened job position.

But none of them will be nearly as fast as Oz.

“Oz?” You call out to him softly, watching as his dejected eyes raise to meet yours. A fire burns in the pit of your stomach, a sense of pride and determination flares within your chest. You take a deep breath and look him, deathly serious, in the eye. “This city is yours now. No one can take it from you.”

Oz sits up at attention, he looks at you bewildered. He secretly shudders at the realization that you definitely just read his mind. He tries to gain his composure, sending a cheeky, almost shy, smile your way as he rubs the back of his neck.

“I wish it was that easy, sweetheart.” He chuckles dryly, but stops abruptly at the resolute look in your eyes. You’re not trying to reassure him… You’re stating a fact. One that seems to be very near and dear to your heart. Oz sighs, looking at you softly.

“Thank you.” He whispers.

A few seconds go by of you both staring deep into each others eyes, before Oz comes back to reality. Just as he opens his mouth to say something else, the door handle jiggles slowly before a young women enters.

She’s dressed head to toe in purple scrubs and it makes you squint a little at the vibrant color. She says something in greeting but you don’t hear much of it, tuning out very fast as she does a routine check of your health. Asking you basic questions.

Apparently, you had been unconscious for around three days but they had kept a vigilant eye on you, and reassured Oz that you would be awake in no time. Oz had also kept a vigilant eye on you, the nurse says this after he leaves the room to fetch you something to eat.

“What?” You ask quietly, looking at her quizzically. You’re sure there’s much more important things he could’ve been doing, but the blanket, paper cup of water, and discarded coat where Oz was sitting tells a different story.

“Yeah, he barely left your side. Only really left to go the bathroom and begrudgingly get food at the insistence of myself.” She giggles a little, not noticing the expression on your face.

“Oh.”

She leaves a little while after that, only really making small chit chat after she’s assessed that you’re in fairly good shape considering the circumstances.

Of course he would stay, you think. It would be out of character for him to just leave you, a crumpled heap of a person on the floor. Although he had wanted to kill Carmine for a very long time, there was very little chance he would ever do it if Falcone hadn’t tried what he had.

The thought of Oz wanting to save you makes you blush, the heat in your face doesn’t seem to go away even as Oz enters the room with some food for you and himself.

He smiles at you, not a smirk but a real, true smile. He brandishes the plain hospital food for you to see, and your heart beats rapidly in your chest.

“The nurse said you could be discharged from the hospital today, doll.” He says as he sits down in the chair beside your bed. He hands you something to eat, before relaxing into the chair. “And uh, well… I was wondering if you’d come stay with me for a while, sugar.”

That takes you back a little.

“What? Why, Oz?” You ask in confusion.

“Well, I don’t mean this in a rude way, doll, but I feel like every time I take my eyes off you, you get the shit beaten out of you.” Oz chuckles dryly, but he looks nervous. “I just, I worry about you, y’know? Don’t want you to get hurt no more, especially if it’s because of me.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Oz…”

He doesn’t look convinced, but before he can argue the nurse comes back in. She looks shy and apologetic for interrupting, but she steps further into the room anyways.

“Your paperwork is all finished, you’re free to leave.” She says with a gentle smile, and as Oz and yourself nod she walks back out swiftly.

Oz looks at you, he seems to be thinking very deeply before he says:

“C’mon, doll, let’s get going.” He stands up and helps you get ready to leave.

#here y’all go!! one more to go! #i’m going to start writing more often so hopefully these will get out faster im so slow lol #oz cobblepot x reader #oswald cobblepot x reader #farrell!penguin #farrell!penguin x reader #the batman (2022) #my writing

[writerpetals]

thunder & lullabies | ❤️

; optional male lead fluff |  ☁️

You don’t think your eyes can feel any heavier. There’s aches coursing through your body from being on your feet all day. Cloudiness fogs your mind from trying to keep it all together. Not to mention the piercing screams of your three month old son wailing to his heart's content because he knows if he does, your husband or you will be right there to hold him.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be giving in every time?” He suggests, the newborn settling nice and cozy in your husband’s strong arms after getting exactly what he wanted. He silences the cries into soft coos as he bounces back and forth regardless of the bags under his eyes or how exhausted he feels as well. “You know… maybe he just needs to cry it out.”

“With this headache I have,” you begin after sighing and leaning against the doorframe to your infant’s room, “I don’t think I can tolerate it any other way.”

To add to the pounding in your head, mother nature decides to play a cruel trick on you as lightning flashes through the sky, booming thunder following shortly after. It only takes a second to startle the newborn, alarming cries echoing throughout your small apartment and the cycle starts all over again. 

Your husband exhales a heavy breath. You refrain from breaking down into tears. The autumn rains never lets up as the drops beat against the windows, the lightning jolts the sky, and the thunder, once again, startles your son.

“I’m. So. Tired.” He has nearly had enough as well, but he’s doing as much as he can to ease the cries. For the past few hours, the storm has caused an unsettled infant, which leads to exhaustion, a throbbing head, and more frustration than either of you imagined while trying to adjust to all the trials and tribulations begin new parents has brought about.

“Nothing’s working,” you pout, throwing your hands up and leaving your son’s room to head to the kitchen. 

“Maybe some milk?” He suggests, following you close while keeping his voice a whisper. Any moment he has to calm the cries and bring silence, he’s going to take it. Even if it means only getting a few moments of peace between the booming echoes of thunder. 

“We tried that,” you groan while reaching for the Tylenol you keep close by on the kitchen counter. If you don’t treat the migraine you’re currently suffering from, there’s no way you can make it out of this stormy night alive. 

Another loud roaring of thunder follows a quick burst of light filling your dimly lit apartment. He jumps from the sudden noise, and now you aren’t sure if it’s your son or husband that’s more scared. The newborn bursts into screams and your head immediately responds with deeper pulsing of pain, right behind your eyes. 

“Here,” you tell him, irritation evident in your voice. “I’ll hold him.”

He smacks his lips, but you ignore it, taking your son from his arms to hold him against your chest. “I was handling it.”

“I can hear the neighbors' complaints already.” The last thing you need in the moment is to see your elderly neighbor angry because they couldn’t fall asleep by eight p.m. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, you think, realizing you would do anything to be able to sleep. Or at least, get your son to sleep so you can finally relax after a stressful, long day. 

Taking a seat on the sofa, you rock side to side to try to make the infant even the tiniest bit of sleepy. How can babies have so much energy to scream all day? Maybe they know something you don’t. The thought makes you smile while looking down at him, and soon your husband joins you on the couch. 

“Hey, he’s calming down.”

“Shh,” you remind me to keep his voice low, flashing him a grin to keep from laughing.

“Sorry,” he whispers. A few moments pass in silence between the three of you. The thunder begins to grow distant outside, and the softer pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows feels almost soothing in the moment. 

Suddenly, your husband starts humming. His head falls to your shoulder, his eyes resting over the newborn in your arms. Your son’s lids grow heavy as he fights sleep, but he seems to be enjoying the soft lullaby. It even seems to calm your headache in the moment, listening to the deep, yet gentle voice of the man you love. A smile forms over your lips, tiredness setting in as the night finally begins to settle down. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, turning your head to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you,” he replies, making it known it’s clearly a two-person job to get a three month old to sleep in a thunderstorm. You share grins between the two of you before he settles with his back against the couch, and you scoot carefully to rest against his chest. “Want me to turn the TV on?” he asks, knowing how much you love watching your scary movies during this time of year. 

However, you shake your head softly against his chest. “No,” you sigh quietly, “I just want to listen to the rain.”

He understands it’s been a long day for the three of you. Wrapping his arms around you while you continue to cradle your son, he holds you close as each of you feel the weight of exhaustion due to a taxing day. A quiet sigh fills the air here and there, soft humming soon follows. He reaches to brush his thumb over his son’s forehead, watching him for a moment as he sleeps in your arms. 

“Oh no,” you suddenly whisper, pulling the two of you out of the bliss of the moment.

His eyes grow wide. You give him a worried expression while biting your lip. “What’s wrong?” he asks, but it only takes him a second to regret the question as you whisper your strained reply with squinted eyes and the peace will be gone the moment either of you move.

“...I have to sneeze.”

#bts scenarios #marvel scenarios #call of duty scenarios #twilight scenarios #harry potter scenarios #jungkook scenarios #loki scenarios #nct scenarios #got7 scenarios #monsta x scenarios #stray kids scenarios #harry styles scenarios #ghost scenarios

[moooooooonsblog]

MHA BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS part 1

Headcannons - gn reader - sfw

characters: Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugou, Izuku Midoriya

Warnings: cursing (thank you bakugou), not proof-read

(part 1)

Shoto Todoroki

You made the first move

You had to explain to him what falling in love feels like

"So If my heart beats fast and I suddenly feel warm, I'm in love and not sick?"

Took you guys a few weeks to start dating after realizing your feelings

oh but once you were a thing? he wouldn't ever leave your side

running some quick errands? hold on, he's grabbing his shoes

going to the bathroom? he'll excuse himself, follow you and would wait right out the door

you might as well stitch your hips together because where ever you are, he's there to

"Is everything okay, love?"

he calls you things like "darling" and "love"

and oh my god, whenever he does, your heart runs 100mph and you stumble and fumble on your words

he's pretty good at keeping his cool when you call him by your silly names for him, but he'll usually pause with a slight blush on his cheeks before answering

He doesn't mind PDA, but he always keeps it lowkey: holding hands, a quick peck on the cheek, etc

Not so much of the jealous type but if he sees anyone getting TOO touchy-feely with you, he'll just quietly glare flames at that person

"Wait why did that person just suddenly walk away?"

"Maybe he had somewhere to be, love"

he's a bit insecure about his scar with you and constantly needs reassurance that you still love him and didn't suddenly lose feelings

cafe dates and walks in the park

willing to spend all his money on you he spends endeavor's credit card on you

"Oh, that's such a nice house!"

"Okay, let me buy it for you"

"Shoto no-"

Katsuki Bakugou

You had the first move

Hear me out, Bakugou had feelings for you for so so long although it took him a while to realize it because bakagou?? a crush?? no way! what a weakness!

he just ignored his feelings for you, unknowingly made it super obvious to his buddies how he felt

until...

"Hey, I like you, let's go on a date!"

"Ehh?????"

He REFUSED to be asked out first, so he ignored you the first few times you tried to swoon him

A few weeks later he shoved some flowers in your face and very rudely asked you out

"Here. Let's go on that shitty date you wanted" he said very aggressively romantically

once you started dating, you saw a side of bakugou that nobody knew existed

he's shocking super big on physical touch: always draps his arm around you, back hugs, late night cuddles, neck kisses-

All of this happens in private ofc, bakugou can't show that your his weakness! ha! never!

after a while though he lets loose around his close friends and wont mind some affection (he'll glare at them the whole time daring them to say a word"

that given, he doesn't do this "PDA" some extras speak of only if absolutely necessary or you when you really want to

no one can convince me that he isn't the jealous type; anyone who DARES to look your way for too long needs to pray to All Might for protection

"Oi! What the fuck are you looking at, you damn extra?? You wanna die?? Huh??" cue the explosions

He calls you "babe" and "Baby" (super creative, bakugou, really)

he will rather join LOV than admit that he adores the nicknames you give him (although some of them are wack asf)

you like to tease him and get on his nerve

a LOT

"Aww is my boom boom explosion pomeranian boy angry?"

"Shut the fuck up! I'll kill you!"

"Oh noo! Lord explosion murder, please spare me!"

All of 1-a can here the explosions and loud laughing from their dorms

"How does she always get away alive?"

Izuku Midoriya

He confessed to you first

Poor baby is an absolute mess around you, he can't say one sentence without stuttering and turning as red as kiri's hair

Everyone knew he liked you, and quite frankly, you did too

you knew he would want to confess first, so you didn't say anything (you also loved seeing him like this, what a tease you are)

Bakugou finally had enough at whatever the hell was going on and shoved deku right at you and threatened to blow up his all might merch if he didn't get it over with then and there

"Y/N-N.... I like you... a lot-"

"Oh! I like you too! About time you you confessed, don't you think?"

It took him a while to relax into the relationship but once he did, he was 10/10 bf material oh my god!

Sends you good morning and night texts

when you guys go out to eat he always orders a little extra of his meal because he knows that you would want some

He doesn't mind PDA, although he does get a bit flustered

I wouldn't say he's the jealous type, but he will keep a close eye on any person who decide to randomly strike up a convo with you

If he notices the person getting touchy with you, he'll just quietly stand by you and hold your hand and make up an excuse to leave

"Aww did smol might get jealous?"

"W-what? no! I-I just saw an ice cream truck! look!"

he calls you names like "bunny" and "baby" and "honey"

he doesn't stutter much around you anymore, although you do love to tease him

You love to play with his hair and he loves to play with your's

#mha #headcanons #shoto torodoki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku midoryia x reader #first time writing headcanons #go easy on me please😭

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Imagine Daemon...

Disclaimer: I’m making Balerion alive in here for selfish reasons lol.

Imagine Daemon... Young and smitten by you, a Targaryen, the first born child of your father, and always going against what everyone was telling you to do.

Imagine Daemon... Absolutely perplex, as you were talented in every skill, be that for a man or a woman, just so that nobody could give you shit for neglecting you training.

“Though they speak more than they should, the truth still stands - I truly do believe that people, in general, should know as many a skill as they can, for it may be the difference between life and death, at some point in their life.”

Imagine Daemon... Being afraid for you, once your dragon was eaten alive by The Cannibal, and you just went berserk with anger.

Imagine Daemon... Absolutely flabbergast and positively erect once he sees you running over at Balerion the Black Dread, the dragon that no one dared to tame for so long, the oldest, the most powerful -- And you just marched up to him and patted his snout, before yelling at him with such a loud, booming and authoritarian voice that he almost fell to his knees, ready to pledge his allegiance to you.

Imagine Daemon... Desperately wanting to jump on Caraxes and perform a dragon dance around you, but he could only stare, deaf to everyone’s worried shrieks, as you shoot up in the sky with the fearsome dragon, and instead of throwing you off, the two of you went in perfect sync, doing fire tricks and having fun - Though so far away, he was sure he could hear your excited, thrilled screams... Before you ripped into The Cannibal, as revenge.

Imagine Daemon... Immediately asking your father to have you marry him, because he knew, he would never find another Lady as wild, stubborn, mental and positively fucked in the head - Just like he was.

Imagine Daemon... Smirking, as he witnessed a fight of you and your father, once the idea of having heirs was brought into discussion, but by now, you were too old and too independent to bother with any of the Crown matters - And you were, after all, the great Balerion’s tamer.

“The matters of the Crown have never concerned me. My life is mine own, and mine own alone, and I shall not allow anyone to temper with my wishes. I was born an explorer, an adventurer, and the fact that Balerion accepted ME, while I was a mere child, whilst others were burnt for even daring to approach him - I KNOW I am meant for greatness, but what greatness means, is subjective to mine own visions in life. I shall not be baring any heirs for any stupid petty lord.”

Imagine Daemon... Running to Caraxes as soon as you exited the throne room, pissed off at your father, and following you to whatever mountain peak you wanted to go to - Though you didn’t even bother saluting him, you didn’t tell him to go away either, for he was the only one who understood you.

“What does HE know of being a dragon, any way? All he does is drink and whore around, like a petty lordling with way too much coin in his purse. That is NOT what being a dragon means. It is all about the fire surging through your blood - The adrenaline, the excitement, the wind blowing through your hair, the possibility of dying any second of the day, but conquering it - Winning war after war, exploring new places and making them your own -- If not, then what is the use of being dragon riders and sporting the sigil of our house?! You... You are the only one who truly understood my ideals, Daemon. I am sure you are on my side... Are you not? It is not me, going mental, is it?” though he chuckled, seeing you snapping your head at him, as if for confirmation, and seeing the slightest glimpse of a worry, he could feel his heart beating fast.

“To hell with all of them, my Dear Lady. Who cares what they think? You are the rider of the dragon who spurs fear in every living being. You can do anything you want. Your father wants to marry you? Burn him. Take the throne. Become Queen. Fuck on the throne - Is anything stopping you? No. You want to explore the world? Get enough gold and provisions and soar through the skies, see places left untouched by mortals, and bring back souvenirs of the new place you conquered.” he began to chuckle, seeing you look away, hiding your amused laughter. “Ah, I see, I have managed to make My Lady smile - And what a beautiful smile she has. Won’t you smile more for me, my dear?”

Imagine Daemon... Reaching our his hands to cup either side of you face and leaning his forehead to touch yours, and caressing your cheeks dearly, giving you a sweet, heartfelt smile before his thumb went down to trace your bottom lip, followed by a gentle kiss on those beautiful, pink, plump lips that he wanted to bite and suck on forever.

“Well... If you are by my side... I suppose there is nothing I cannot do, is there... Daemon?” now seated on his lap, and a snarling, overprotective Balerion having taken flight, not wanting to see something like that - Through kisses and touches, you found yourself being placed down, on the soft grass, with not the white clouds, but those gorgeous eyes of his, and that long, silver hair, tickling your face.

“For as long as you’ll have me, I shall remain by your side, be them good or bad times coming.”

----

Imagine Aemond... (Aemond is afraid My Lady will find him ugly) Imagine Aemond... (Aemond is frustrated with the court and My Lady spoils him) Imagine Aemond... (Aemond discovers you pampering Vhagar, the Matchmaker) Imagine Aemond... (My Lady is afraid of the concept of childbirth and pregnancy) Imagine Aemond... (Engaging in a romantic, literal Dance of Dragons in the air ) Imagine Daemon... (Being smitten over an adventurous Lady who flies Balerion)

#daemon #daemon x reader #daemon imagine #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen

[siremasterlawrence]

Double Edged Words

Based on a true story from Thanksgiving

I am sitting in for Thanksgiving night dinner at exactly at eight a loud ping comes in when I receive a text from a former friend of mine who recently apologized to me for some actions and I reluctantly forgave him the biggest mistake of my lives since that whole family is full of assholes

He jokes to me I am like a dry turkey then he goes on bashing me with way too many more food scenarios as a joke so I am really not in the mood the next day to deal with him or anybody on my first red carpet event let alone his parents.

His father who I see is completely dressed to the nines for the first time he usually is a mess walking the red carpet with his hand waving at me as I roll my eyes and offer my hand to shake but instead I wake up from my day dream.

I sigh a bit later in the bathroom after the ending of the premiere he blocks me in the bathroom placing his hand on my shoulder as I realize it is him then think for a second I have my chance.

He wants to take a selfie with me but I get a bit giddy letting him set up the flash I say to him I’ll do it but the light start to flicker and I am annoyed but move on asking him if he could see into the frame.

He stares deep into the light as the lights of flash blind him on and off leaving me with perfect excuse to put him under by using the camera to take a picture of him I begin to play with his mind.

He freezes on command at a stance unable to move except to blink allowing me some time to formulate a plan so wicked I might lose myself in it but I carefully concoct until the minute his eyes pop open.

He comes to life stretching his hands in the air, yawning so loud it would scare the ghost of the hand any and never noticing me I do stop and play with his hair but he does not even react.

“You can’t seem me, you hear my voice the voice of reason.”

“You did not treat your son’s friend Lawrence right you have to pay the piper.”

“No need to speak, their is only one think you can do.”

“You need to pay for your issues”

“You can start by being his slave “

“Kneel at his feet and kiss it”

“Know you are his property”

“Love him, love for him “

“Obey all his commands”

“Boom”

“Huh! Hey! What happened?”

“Oh Master! How can I please you?”

His eldest son Robbie is in hell seeing his old man doing something so out of character as he stands on stage looking like a damn ass fool and doing as his ex pal say like in a Hypnosis show.

Unfortunately for him the music starts to hit playing a beat he cannot stop it raises into the threshold of the roof he starts to do a very stupid dance consuming him loosing it in into a stream of insanity.

“Join us Robbie follow everything your father does.”

“Oh Master! How can I please you?”“Hope Everyone! Pay Attention Please” I say to the crowd.

“Meet my pal Jon! He is a asshole”

“Yes! I am the worst type”

“Hahahaha” the crowd erupts

“A real monkey! This one”

“Enter the audience while I sing”

“To all you fuckers who I hate “

“Let me play you a song “

“Ooooohhhhhh! Yyyeeeaaaahhh”

“I bet you think you won, like a dagger plunge into my soul”

“Killing me on site…lalalala “

“No such luck and I am here to fight “

“Break a few bones, a good whip and we still won’t be right as rain”

“I can see you dancing now”

“Addicted to my every word “

“Clap your hands and give me some to “

“Strip your close “

“Nanana”

Colton is the younger one grinding his ass on the floor as my debut single for the movie is burrowing deep into their brains nothing can stop it now as I am subliminally in his head reprogramming him in everything way and manner possible.

“Colton you look good in pink”

“Take it off “

“Dance your ass off”

“Showcase your body”

“Woo so smooth”

“You want to do it “

“My body is your play ground “

“You cannot deny me”

“You see it the flash “

“Blinding lights “

“The world spins”

“You have fallen “

“Just like the sound of my voice “

“Your heart beats”

“We join as one “

“Pumping in sync”

“You have fallen for me”

“You are mad and crazy “

“Give in for me”

“Leap off the ground“

“Sweet dear my bliss”

The end

#Jon Hamm #robbie amell #colton haynes #hot daddy slave #sons #A New Hierarchy #true stories

[draguta]

.a court of ash and smoke | three.

pairing: lucien vanseera x fem!reader

summary: five years before feyre archeron ever stepped foot in prythian, another human girl found herself in the spring court. but the trials and tribulations of her time under the mountain left her with nothing but a certain red-headed high fae emissary, who had once resented her entire presence, to help and guide her.

chapter warnings: violence, mention of non-con, mention of dub-con

chapter word count: 3323

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please remember to reblog, like, and share a comment if you enjoy this series - it is always appreciated by writers to see their hard work valued.

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The Curse

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the body to your left as they hoisted her up the wall, slamming nails into her hands and feet. Her screams had echoed through the mountain for the entire day, in chorus with Amarantha’s shrill shrieks of pleasure and laughs of glee. They had even reached as far as your chambers, enough for you to slam a pillow over your ears and pray for the girl’s pain to simply come to an end. It had been too much, the way her voice had cracked and broken, and now her body was to be hung from the rafters as if it were some kind of trophy.

It was enough to make you sick.

As the final nail struck stone, you dared one glance up at her, your face grimacing as you noted her naked form on full display to the entire court, the blood, still fresh, on her hands, feet, and dripping from her pale, lifeless lips.

You were all-too aware that, had it not been for Rhysand, that could very well have been you.

Rumours began to swirl through the court. Not that you were privy to them. Why would anyone deign to inform the court whore of the goings-on Under the Mountain?

But one afternoon, you were able to hear Harden and Carson muttering outside your door, speaking of a masked High Lord and his red-headed friend who had been dragged before Amarantha.

“His fifty years are up,” you heard Harden’s booming voice state. You cracked open the door ever-so-slightly, enough that you were able to see the pair of them, sitting to the left of your bedroom door. Harden was sharpening a knife, and Carson was leaning his head back against the wall. “And since we’ve had the Spring Court High Lord’s little human here for the past five years, he’s had no way to break his curse.”

They were speaking of Tamlin, you knew that for certain. But curse? Neither Tamlin or Lucien had ever mentioned a curse to you before.

“So now they’re here?” Carson asked, voice monotone and bored.

“Yep!” Harden confirmed. “Rhysand picked them up from the Spring Court yesterday.”

Your heart began to beat so loud that you were certain it would give away your eavesdropping. Tamlin and Lucien were here, Under the Mountain. Tamlin was here. You hadn’t seen him in five years, had only spoken with him through messages conveyed via Lucien. But he was here now - they both were - and either that meant a possible chance at escape, or it meant that they were as much prisoners here now as you were.

But you knew what you had to do. You had to find them.

The party that night was one of many, hundreds more faces there that I did not know, and at least a dozen masked faces, presumably from the Spring Court. You sauntered through the crowd, as you always did, but this time, instead of keeping to the sidelines and waiting for someone to pick you, you made a point of mingling with the crowd. You scanned the faces, the masked masses, searching for Lucien, for Tamlin, for anyone from the Spring Court that you recognised. But there was no sign of them, or Alis, or any of the other servants that you knew.

Not until the double doors at the back of the room, behind the dais, slammed open, and Amarantha made her usual dramatic entrance. The only difference this time was that it wasn’t only Rhysand that trailed after her. But a familiar blonde, sun-kissed man followed in her wake, and took a seat on a newly constructed stone throne beside her. Tamlin.

You caught sight of a flash of red hair in the crowd, somewhere to the right of the dais, and after scanning the heads, you found it once more. To your relief, it wasn’t one of the other Vanserras, and thankfully not the one who you had caused to receive those lashes, but instead it was Lucein’s familiar form that stalked through the crowds and nestled in the second row back.

You slipped through the crowds as unseen as you could be, pushing through bodies, with only one aim; to reach Lucien. His shoulder tensed as you slipped in by his side, but as he looked through the corner of his eye and realised it was you, he relaxed.

“What’s happening?” You whispered to him, leaning slightly closer to him. 

“Tamlin is Amarantha’s prisoner now,” he whispered in return, eyes trained on the way the High Queen’s red painted fingers latched onto Tamlin’s thigh. You tensed, stomach swirling. “He didn’t break his curse in time, and now he belongs to her.”

“You never spoke of any curse,” you whispered back. He glanced down at you in surprise.

 “Why do you think we must always wear these masks?” He asked as though it were obvious. “Why do you think she brought you here when she thought you were his lover? She was toying with him, trying to take away the only chance he had of breaking that curse.”

You flinched. The others in the room whispered and gossiped, masking our conversation long enough that he could finally explain everything to me, after so long. Lucien continued, “You would never have been able to break his curse - our curse. You didn’t fit the criteria. The human woman would have had to kill a faerie first, and you never did. But now he’s sent away the only one who stood a chance at saving us.”

“And now what?” You whispered in return, glancing over at Tamlin. He sat stiff in that throne, back straight, unmoving, not even sparing a glance at the red-haired woman beside him, green eyes concealed behind that mask staring ahead blankly.

“Now we’re all doomed to stay here forever,” he let out a breath. “We’re trapped here now, too.”

You blinked up at him. “You’re staying?” You knew that it was selfish of you, but you couldn’t help the slice of genuine happiness and relief at the thought that you would no longer be alone, that Lucien would be here with you from now on.

He didn’t hide the slight curl of his lips as he said, “We’re staying.”

Although you couldn’t be certain, as you turned back to the dais and watched Tamlin and Amarantha, you were sure you felt his calloused fingertips brush against your own, light and fleeting, but enough to offer you slight comfort. To let you know that he was there, and that he always would be there. That no matter what hatred had befallen you both before, that now, five years later, there was nothing but camaraderie, nothing but kindness and caring between you now.

“Y/N?” Amarantha’s voice called out through the whisperings, and the crowd went silent once more. “Where is she? Come forward, girl.”

You glanced up at Lucien, his face peaky and solemn, but you took a shaking step forward, all eyes on you now. You felt Lucien grip gently at your wrist as if to hold you back, but you shook it off, not looking back as the crowd parted and allowed you a step forward, in front of the dais, looking up at Amarantha. At your adoptive brother sitting beside her.

Tamlin’s eyes widened when he saw you, saw the scanty dress that you wore, hardly covering you, and the thinness of your now brittle and exhausted body. But he didn’t speak, and his face remained a picture of blankness. From the corner of your eye, you saw Lucien step to the front of the crowd, ready to pound to protect you should you need it. You knew that he would rush to your aid, even if he shouldn’t.

“There you are!” Amarantha squealed in delight, turning to look at the blonde in the throne beside her. “Your little human has provided us with much fun here over the years.”

She smirked, glancing up at the human girl’s naked form nailed to the wall behind me. You didn’t dare look at her again. “Of course, you’ve moved on since then, haven’t you?” She snarked. “Did you forget all about the innocent human that you left here over all those years? Or should I say, faerie whore. Because she’s not human anymore, is she? And she certainly isn’t innocent anymore either.”

Tamlin’s jaw clenched, but he stayed solemn, tearing his eyes away from yours and staring blankly at the wall behind you. You trembled, legs shaking, suddenly thrown back to that day. The day that you had been brought Under the Mountain, had faced Amarantha for the first time. The day that she had taken Lucien’s eye, had nearly killed you, and then took away your mortal soul.

“Who shall we have you entertain tonight?” Amarantha finally asked, looking back at you with a malicious smirk. Her eyes trailed around the room, and finally landed on the one person that you had hoped she wouldn’t say. “Lucien! Of course!”

You closed your eyes and swallowed hard. “You know,” Amarantha continued, turning back to Tamlin. “Your little emissary has had quite a bit of fun with your human girl over the years. I can’t count the amount of times that he took her to bed.”

Tamlin’s shoulders tensed. He knew, surely he knew, that it had only been so that Lucien could convey messages to you, that it had all been a ploy. Surely he knew that Lucien would have never taken advantage of you like that, not in the way that the other men of the court had, that Lucien’s own brothers had. But whether he knew or didn’t know, he didn’t say anything, gave you no hint that he was aware.

“Step forward, Lucien!” Amarantha called. His scent wafted toward you before you felt his presence at my side, bowing low before her. “Are you going to show the little whore some fun tonight?”

“If it would please you,” he said, although you didn’t miss the wavering in his voice. “Then I shall.”

“Wonderful!” She clasped her hands together in delight. “In that case, the pair of you are dismissed. Enjoy the party.” She offered Tamlin a side-long glance to gauge his reaction, but he remained stone-faced, remained cold and unfeeling.

Lucien grasped my hand and pulled you away from the dais, away from Amarantha’s calculating stare, through the crowd and into a corner at the back of the throne room. A waiter of some sort appeared a moment later with a tray of wine, and he took two, handing one to you. His hands were trembling.

“Drink,” he said, downing his own wine and reaching for another before the servant disappeared into the crowd. “You’ll feel better.”

You tipped the wine back into your mouth and swallowed it whole, allowing it to coat your tongue and fighting down the gag as the strong alcohol hit the back of your throat all at once. “Lucien,” you said finally, he glanced over his shoulder at Tamlin, before looking down at you. You were pressed against the wall, cool against the bare skin of your back, and he almost seemed to be using his body to shield you from prying eyes. “Please explain what’s going on? Who is the person that could break your curse?”

Lucien sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Amarantha wants Tamlin for herself, and so when Tamlin refused to bed her, she offered him a way out, another game for her to play. Fifty years to find a human woman, who had killed a faerie, to fall in love with him,” Lucien explained quickly and quietly. “That’s why she brought you here. She thought you were that human.”

“But I had never killed a faerie,” you realised. “And I was never Tamlin’s lover, I was his sister. I didn’t fit the criteria.”

“Exactly, but she didn’t and still doesn’t know that,” he continued. “When I realised that you could never break our curse, that you couldn’t save us from this fate, Cauldron, did I resent you for it, even though it wasn’t your fault.”

The hatred; that explained it. He had hated you for being useless in their battle against Amarantha. “But then, only months ago as the deadline approached, a human girl killed one of Tamlin’s sentries, and thus was brought to the Spring Court,” he explained. Everything was beginning to come together, like two strings were being pulled at either end of a story which wrapped the entire centre point into a neat little bow. “Her name is Feyre, and her and Tamlin, they fell in love. But, as the deadline grew closer, Rhysand came to threaten Tamlin and discovered her existence, so Tamlin sent her back to the mortal realm, and with it, our chance of breaking our curse, our chance of escaping Amarantha’s clutches, went with her.”

“So there is nothing to be done?” You asked, looking up to meet his russet and golden eyes.

“Nothing,” he whispered. He reached up, tugging at a stray strand of your hair as he tucked it behind your ear. “But one good came from this. Now I’m here to protect you, I can keep you safe.”

“But I still have to do Amarantha’s bidding,” you whispered in reply, your breath hitching in your throat at his close proximity, at the way he gazed down at you. “She will never let me leave my position.”

He sighed. “I know,” he agreed. “I’m sorry that I cannot help you.”

You dared to place a hand gently against his lower chest, looking up at him carefully, showing him the first real smile that you had possessed in so long. “You have helped me enough,” you whispered. “And just knowing that you will be here with me, even if we are both prisoners, is enough.”

You weren’t able to speak to Tamlin, able to determine whether or not he believed the lies that Lucien and you and spewed to Amarantha about your dalliances Under the Mountain. You could feel his eyes on you, for the weeks that followed, as you were plucked from the crowd by one of the male courtiers and pulled onto their laps, fed faerie wine, and touched in places that you would have once slapped them for, before they dragged you back to your chambers. You knew of the sickness that he felt each day when he saw it. And yet, there was nothing you could say to make it better, and he showed little of that feeling on his face, besides the clenched jaw and tensed shoulders.

Lucien was always close-by during those parties, near enough to step in should anyone take things too far. Protecting you, just as he had promised.

It was on one of these nights that he had been forced to step in. You had been perched on the arm of a chair seating Keir, the head of Hewn City. You had known him to be a harsh man to begin with, but now that he was drunk, he seemed to have lost any type of chivalry that he might have possessed sober, no matter how small that shard might have been. As you sat there, sipping on your wine, waiting for him to be ready to take you back to your chamber, he had snarled at his cronies, “Why wait, when I could have her right here?”

His hand slipped up the inside of your thigh, under your dress, and cupped your heat, right there in front of everyone. You squealed, pushing yourself away from him, willing yourself to put as much distance between you and him as you possibly could. It was one thing to be the court whore, but you were no exhibitionist. In the chaos, a drop of your wine flung from your glass, and landed square on his robes, the blood-red alcohol staining even through the dark material, tinging the silver lining a stark red.

He glared down at his robes, and then his beady eyes were on you. “Why, you little-” His hand gripped at the roots of your hair, dragging you to the floor. A cheer sounded somewhere behind you as you fell hard against the floor, knees likely to be bruised by morning. You didn’t feel the back of his hand meet your cheek until after it had already connected, leaving behind only  a sharp sting and throbbing pain on your cheekbone and lower lip, blood staining your teeth. “You stupid whore!”

He raised his hand again as you crumbled to the ground, preparing yourself for the next blow. But it never came, and when you opened your eyes you felt Lucien’s presence beside you, hand wrapped around Keir’s wrist, holding him back from you.

“Do you always raise your hand to your female company?” He asked sternly, and Keir simply growled. “Your wife must think herself so lucky.”

A silence had fallen across the room, all eyes watching. You could feel Tamlin’s glare on the back of your head, could sense the way he stared at Lucien, and watched his every movement.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?”Keir sneered, but Lucien ignored him.

“Perhaps, if you are not going to indulge the girl in a good night, then I will show her how it’s really done,” Lucien snapped back. “And I suggest that next time you raise a hand to someone in this court, it be someone who might have a chance of fighting back. Otherwise, I may have to step in again, and next time I won’t be so kind.”

You watched as Keir slithered back to his table, to where his cronies sneered at Lucien and bared their teeth at you. Lucien huffed a breath, turning and offering you a hand to help you to your feet. “Come on,” he said quietly, taking your hand before turning to Amarantha. “If you will allow,” he said confidently, only sparing one glance at Tamlin who’s teeth were gritted. “We will take our leave now. I have some…business to attend to.”

Amarantha’s teeth flashed as she smiled, offering one nod of approval, before Lucien was dragging on your arm, pulling you out of the throne room and back toward your chambers. You grew dizzy before you even reached the staircase, and your wobbling legs told Lucien as much. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder, pulling you into a small alcove. The little hall was small enough that it left barely a breath’s width between you, but it kept you hidden, kept you safe.

He cupped your face just as the first tear fell, wiping it away carefully with the pad of his thumb. You could taste your own blood on your tongue, and he ran a hand over the cut on your lip softly, a tang of magic wiping away the evidence of your abuse. Only the forming bruise on your cheek remained, with no way of removing it. “H-He touched me,” you managed to wheeze out. “In front of everyone. He touched me.”

You could see the flicker of understanding in Lucien’s eyes, and the flame of fury that hid behind his iris. “I’ll make sure he never touches you again,” he whispered. But his promise, one of so many that he had given you, didn’t stop the shudder of sobs that washed over you, shaking your shoulders and causing your trembling hands to shake violently. They didn’t stop shaking until he reached forward and planted a careful, gentle kiss against the bruise on your cheekbone. The feeling of his lips brushing against your heated, flushed skin was enough for you to calm, to allow him to hold you in his grip and simply try to forget what had happened. “Never again,” he whispered against my skin, pressing his forehead against yours.

And that was a promise that you knew he would keep.

#ACOTAR #ACOTAR fanfiction #ACOTAR fanfic #Lucien Vanserra #Lucien #Lucien ACOTAR #Lucien Vanserra fanfiction #Lucien Vanserra fanfic #Lucien fanfiction #Lucien fanfic #Lucien x reader #Lucien Vanserra x reader #Lucien x you #Lucien Vanserra x you #Lucien x y/n #lucien vanserra x y/n #rhysand #feyre #tamlin #elain #nesta #cassian #mor #azriel #amren #amarantha #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight

[parental-unit-of-chaos]

Hi, first of all, good morning/afternoon or night. If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to place an order for you.

I would like something polyamorous between tim drake and conner/kon-el x male reader, where the reader is also a vigilante but during a mission he has died for before conner and tim confess their feelings to him, but later revives and returns in he seeks revenge, but later he is arrested by tim and conner and that despite how changed the reader is, they confess to him and well, the reader despite feeling insecure (either because of the scars and those things) accepted their feelings.

It's my first time making an order, XD. I hope I have not bothered you.

Only Time can Answer: Tim + Kon x M!reader.

Thank you for your request! It's not a bother at all. I hope you like what I wrote here.

Cw: Reader dies, depression & grief, SH and fear toxic abuse, Mutual comfort, self hatred.

On paper your job for the Team would be a scout. Using your skills for small details, you would find high points of interest and point out where everyone was. On the other hand, in practice you were also the older brother figure.

Your Teammates, your friends, would go to you asking for advice or just vent about past struggles. Most felt that they couldn't be honsetly with their mentors, or at least say the full picture. You would also help explain things about earth, to the ones who were still learning.

That's how both Tim and Kon fell for you, you were a rock. They felt safe enough to lean on. You were the stable and unchanging comfort in the unpredictable, even hostile, life style they had.

Tim was the first to identify his feelings for you has love, however due to his anxiety he never said anything. The idea of possibly losing the bond you two already had, was all he need to think. Before he was petrified, month going dry.

For the latter, Kon was still newer to a lot of things, he wasn't stupid by all means. Just couldn't find words to describe how he felt with you. He knew the feeling was comfortable, his heart feeling like it grew wings everytime you smiled at him.

That's why your death was soul shattering to the team and for Tim and Kon the most, it felt like they died with you. That is the biggest problem with being so loved, the loss is just has equal.

The mission was simply, it was so God damn simple. Steal the DNA samples and get out. Tim analyzed the whole building for weeks before, starting the field work of the mission. How could he have let this happen! While scouting you had a blind spot, the enemy took that has an advantage.

You were talking on the com when it happened, their was no scream. Just your light hearted remark being cut off with a booming fire of a gun. Tim's heart dropped, '[H/N]?!', there was only gut wrenching silence. Not even a choked sob or breathe.

Kon's ears were ringing, the extremely loud sound disorienting him. He felt like he was the one that got shot instead. Both Tim and Kon's hearts were racing has they regrouped. Kon falling to his knees and letting out a scream of pain, tears running down his face. He couldn't hear your heart beat.

What was worse, there was no body found, no body to take home and bury. Where the Team tried to move on after the death, Tim and Kon couldn't. Kon could barely get out of bed, the pain of knowing he'll never see you in the common room again. Tim on the other hand, hyperfixated on finding your body, the least he could do was find your body to bury.

Kon seeing that Tim was as effected with your death has he was, tried to talk with him, maybe find a way to cope. It was almost impossible though, Tim could only think about finding a trance of you.

One night, Kon was gently lifted out of sleep by a noise, once he connected his brain enough he identified it has crying. Tim's crying. Kon followed the sound, honestly without his super hearing the crying wouldn't have woken him up. It may have been a learned habit of Tim's, to cry quietly.

He froze, blood running cold and mouth dry, has he stands Infront of the door. Not Tim's, but yours, Tim's crying was coming from your abandoned room. Kon inhaled sharply and tried to calm his racing heart.

Gently, he opened the door, Tim, the 3rd Robin, you would think he heard the door open. But he was too distraught, his tears rolling down his face buried has arms wrapped around one of your pillows, holding it tightly.

All Kon could do was close the door and sit on the edge of the bed, he didn't want to speak, he knew his voice would crack. However, where words failed to form, his eyes sent the message, has salty water began to fall from them as well. That night they never spoke a word, the other knew the pain the other had in their chest. At some point, they fall asleep in each other's arms.

It's been a couple of months, Tim still was done looking for any sign of you. Refusing to file you has dead until they found your body, you were filed has M.I.A. After the night Tim and Kon fell asleep cuddling, they became eachothers comfort. Though both knew the other loved you just has much.

A couple of strange reports started popping up, all having the same description. It eerily matched yours, it seemed to good to be ture, but he had to check it out. He had too, on the off chance it really was you. When Tim told Kon there was no changing his mind; Kon was going to check too.

When they found where the person sit up base at, fortunately, or unfortunately once they saw you, you were alive. Whatever happened, caused you to go to using fear toxin to cope. Tim was the one to speak to you frist, it pained Kon to see you like this has well. But, he had no idea what to say to make you feel better.

'[n-name]? It's me, Tim.', you remembered them both, you broke down into tears. Not because you missed them, but because they found you in this pathetic state. So unworthy to ever go back to being a hero along side them. Once, they understood it was okay to approached, you were engulfed into a hug by the both of them.

It took an hour or more of convincing and reassurance before you agreed to come back with them. Even longer for you to recover from the excessive use of fear toxin. At some you told them, you started taking it to keep traumatizing yourself. So you could feel something.

'I know you don't feel like you s-should be loved. But, I-I do. I love you so much, it pains me to see you like this. In some much pain.' Tim could barely utter the words through tears. 'I'm not has good with words has Tim is, but I love you the same has well. I could barely eat thinking I would never seen you again.' Kon added swallowing the lump that tried to form in his throat. You tried to protest their love, but your mouth refused to open. Their words burning your heart, reminding you how much you loved them both.

You had to get use to sharing a bed with both of them, they were terrified that if you left their sight you were disappear. Has you recovered, they were with you every step of the way. Encouraging you to keep going, to keep healing.

You didn't know where you would be without them being in your life, they were like your sun and moon in their own way. Kon always being so bright and ready to give you loving warmth, and Tim always awake with you at night comforting you during your night terrors.

All three of you gave each others ture love and understanding. Only becoming stronger over time.

#Crow!Writes #x male reader #kon el #tim drake #Conner kent x Tim Drake #gender neutral reader

[mysteriesmuse]

Houseboat Holiday! Sweet Summer Sweat

The sleeping arrangements on the boat remained the same. Everybody retired to their own spot. It gave you plenty of time to scroll through your friends socials. Soft phone light bouncing off the wall before you feel into a deep sleep. I mean, the cool ocean breeze that slipped under the cracks in the door made for the perfect cool, but I’m layered in blankets setting. The optimal sleeping temperature, in your opinion. you were soundly asleep. The kind were little puffs of air cutely flew past your lips; dead to the world. that is until . . . ———

until you felt a swift wave of nausea in your stomach and the taste of bile tickled the back of your throat. your face contorted squeezing shut, no it couldn’t be . . . tHuMpthumPTHUmpthumptHuMpThuMP. you shot up in bed. that was Katsuki. you definitely knew your friends heartbeat, but Katsuki’s was always strong and steady and sure. A utter contrast to Izuku’s whose heart you’ve heard sputtering out of control many times before to his anxiety. leapping out of bed at the galloping heart that must have been in impeccable health because it was like hammering into your skull. you leap and placed your foot on the ground, only to recoil back and jump on the couch. What. The. Fuu-

“shit.” you’d hissed, as soon as you put your foot down you were kindly aware of a dull, dull heartbeat pulsing in the waters below. . . . a heartbeat the size of a small car!

“Ughh, you’re kidding me,” you whispered in a frantic rush, “ok. Ok.” you bent your knees and took a leap off the couch to avoid stepping on whatever that creature was again. Shark? Giant Squid? Whale? you weren’t exactly an expert, and instead decided to ignore that obstacle as you went dashing through the hallway blindly, following the booming sound.

You paused outside the hallway, hearing Izuku’s heart steadily creeping through dreamland. A couple funny beats that held more power to them; most be something interesting, but Katsuki’s still bleated at the forefront of your brain. you swiftly gave a gentle knock before slipping in through the door. ———

You entered the room. The sound of his heart pounding touched you and rattled your chest. A fun part of your quirk, if you were close enough to a loud heart you could feel it reverberate. Like, a loud sound booming out the speakers. only now it was one of your best friends . . . Katsuki lay with the sheets thrown off half his body. His chest bare with darkened splotches, that you knew must be scars, shined along with the rest of him. He was covered in sweat. His hands clenching heaps of the blanket. A singular deep wrinkle dimpled between his eyebrows. A grunt slipped behind his tensed jaw as you approached the bed. Upclose you saw the glimmer of a retainer; good. That boy absolutely needed one with the way he ground his teeth in his sleep. you quickly took to gently shaking his legs at the foot of his bed. it would be too dangerous to be near his hands with the pace of his heart when he woke. tHuMp.THUUmmmpP. you gasped stepping back. Katsuki lurched awake. Crimson eyes shot open like a flare through the room. Carefully calculating every possible option before his eyes settled on you. He gasped, rubbing at his eyes, “what’er y’er doing here y/n?” you moved to make eye contact with him, “I came to check on you.” he hoarsely barked out a typical “hah.” “there’s no reason to check on me. M’ doing perfectly fine. Go back to bed . . .” you looked at him absolutely incredulous. He rubbed his chest against one of those dark shiny spotches. shaky breathes leaving his mouth as he glanced over at you. Accessing whether you would leave him be.

But the old scar. A sweaty bed. The hypothesis was confirmed. “If that were true, which it’s not, then I wouldn’t have been shocked awake to your heartbeat pounding in my head.” You sat yourself down on the other side off his bed and swung your feet up.

Katsuki grimaced as you spoke, “and I simply can’t sleep until your heart quiets down. So I’m gonna stay here with you. I know you don’t like it, but that’s what’s happening, but we don’t have to talk about it.” katsuki sighed running a hand down his face. You sat in silence for a good minute before he rose from the bed. “mmm’ getting a towel,” he mumbled, merely for your benefit. You listened to the squeaky cabinet and Izuku’s once again emphasize a few different beats. you may not get Katsuki to talk about his nightmare, but you made a mental note to ask Izuku in the morning what sounded like a very exciting dream.

Katsuki returned looking a hell of a lot less sweaty as he grumbled his way back to sitting on the edge of the bed. His heart rate was already a little less pounding than before, but only a little. Katsuki shifted to mirror you, springs squeaking as he sat up.

he grimaced once again as he glanced down at his chest before you put a hand on his shoulder. he promptly shifted his gaze to glance down at you. You could see the pain etched onto your dear friends face at this angle. a silver of the carefully concealed facade of Katsuki Bakugou, but as of right now you wished he could muster up his usual scowl. you watched as Katsuki stared at his hand, thought about moving it, and put it down. and your heart clenched as he sighed again and ran a hand through his hair, you knew exactly where. like a second glance at a familiar location where you really take everything in it became clear to you. As un-touchy feeling as Katsuki was there was one way he would regularly sit besides close company. you carefully patted your knee. Slowly Katsuki moved his giant hand to rest on your knee, forearm resting against your thigh as he moved his elbow so as to not knock into your hip. you immediately slipped your hand to rest on his back, tracing light circles with your fingertips. his hand stood still on your knee. A flood of warmth pooled out of his arm and onto your skin; yeah Katsuki always ran hot. ——— you two sat in silence for a while. Katsuki eventually moving his fingers to trace abstract shapes along your bare thigh. the surprising warm and meaty callouses caused a shiver up your spine eliciting a brief retraction of the action before an amused puff left your nose and Katsuki resumed. his heart had retreated to normal. Not quite the rock solid tempo that you knew, but close. ———

in the morning it was Izuku who opened the door to his friends room and found y’all.

you two had fallen on top of each other like a couple of toddlers. Katsuki’s head and shoulders on your lap, hand now swapped to the other knee as he carefully hugged you legs to his chest. Meanwhile, you had gently toppled over his giant figure. Arms crossed underneath you cheek as you slumbered atop of Katsuki’s back. A prominent scar unknowingly tucked against your belly. Izuku merely smiled looking at the two of you. He had a pretty good idea as to what this was all about. And neither of y’all emerged til way past Katsuki’s normal rising time, but totally normal for you. ——— it wasn’t until you plopped down at the table together with Katsuki that Izuku came bounding up

“Y/N Chan! You have to hear about my dream last night.” You grinned, eyes flashing to Katsuki’s who gave a lopsided smile as he silently dug into his omelet. “of course! Tell me all about it.”

#Houseboat holiday AU #holiday houseboat AU #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #mha fanfiction #bhna fanfiction #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #if you tilt you head #fluffy comfort vibes #nightmare #nighttime #reader insert #had this idea on my mind for the AU from the start! #i’m so excited to share this utterly fabulous idea that’s been swirling around in my head for the past few days! #mysteriesmusing #pro hero katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader

[wonderful-sekai]

Watching the Fireworks

💜 Characters: Mammon 💜

The day was about to end. Classrooms were either silent with emptiness or students were cleaning up before they go. The atmosphere was contrast of outside the building, it was loud and festive.

With locked doors and nobody around, you and Mammon snuck into a classroom to escape the overwhelming festival. Lucifer would be angry if he knew you two were gone but it doesn’t matter at the moment.

A spark of light shoots up the sky, it was beautiful. The firework was then followed by a booming sound. The scene was mesmerizing. As your eyes were locked in the showering lights, Mammon had his gaze upon you. For him, the light of the fireworks only made you shine even more.

“You’re so much more beautiful than those stupid fireworks.” He says under his breath. He hoped you didn’t hear it but at the same time he wished you did. He wanted to hold your hand. He wanted to kiss you. He tried so hard to keep himself under control. But, he didn’t want the friendship you had to be gone in a snap.

His thoughts of you only stopped when there were no more sounds of firecrackers flying up the sky.

“I like you too” you replied to his indirect confession. You left the room to run away and hide from Mammon. He was caught by surprise with your words. It took seconds for him to understand but before he knew it, you were gone.

With your heart beating loudly and your face blushing from excitement and nervousness. You tried to go back but you were bumped by the person you just run away from.

“Don’t ever run away from me like that ever again, ya’ dumb human.”

He said as he embraced you. It felt warm and comforting. Something you had wish to do with him from a long time ago. And for Mammon, he doesn’t want to let go of you ever again.

#💜 fanfiction #💜 obey me #obey me #mammon #mammon obey me #obey me x reader #mammon x reader #obey me imagines #mammon imagine #obey me drabble #mammon fluff #obey me mammon #mammon x gender neutral reader #obey me x gender neutral reader

[x-atlas-x]

Hellow :3

😭 share a snippet that will break our hearts

👩‍💻 share a snippet that you worked on for a long time or struggled with

Thanks for the ask, friend!! ^^

😭: Why don't we do something from that trans Atem AU I never posted? :D

Everything was going well for once in his life. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?" A loud, booming voice echoed through the room and over the chatter. Atem's head whipped to the loft, seeing one person standing by the railing, arms outstretched to get the attention they desired. Akefia. Once the room had gone quiet (at least, enough for his liking), he spoke again, "I have an unfortunate announcement to make. I hate that I have to do this, but I'm afraid I've been left with no other choice." Atem felt his body rising from the chair, hands balling into fists at his sides. His nails dug into his palms, pain surging through them. "Mr. and Mrs. Sennen, you're here, aren't you?" His devious smile only grew when they stepped forward to the front of the crowd. "Well, this terrible news regards the both of you. Your precious daughter—you know, the one that you've loved, adored, and have everything for—has been keeping a secret from you." Mortification swelled inside him. He tried to force himself to scream Akefia's name and interrupt what has happening before he let it slip, but it was no use. The words wouldn't leave. "I wouldn't blame yourselves, though. You both have done a wonderful job at taking care of her, and you've made so many sacrifices for her..." Akefia trailed off, meeting Atem's gaze with a smirk. "Or, should I say him?" Atem's stomach dropped, his brain screaming, no. No, for the love of the Gods, no— "That's right! Your daughter believes that she's a boy!" Atem stopped listening after that. He tuned out everything that Akefia was saying. All he could hear was the beating of his own heart. He could feel the lump forming in his throat and the burn of humiliation on his face. At some point, everyone turned, all of their eyes falling on him. He could see his mother's gaze begging him to say it wasn't true. His father couldn't even dare to glance in his direction, sparing himself the fated truth. For once, Atem was speechless. He had nothing to say. There were no excuses to save himself this time. He couldn't. So, he didn't. The sound of his heels clicking filled the silence as he rushed out of the building, tears pouring down his face. He ran and ran, his lungs screaming in agony from the restriction of his binder; a cruel reminder of the very dilemma he'd gotten himself into.

👩‍💻: Hmm... I'll take a snippet from Infected!

"Good," Yugi released him, lightly tapping his thumb against Atem's lip before doing so. He turned back to the door and mumbled, "Slowly now," then cautiously stepped inside, mindful of the sound his steps made. Atem made sure to slip on his gas mask, then followed behind, keeping an eye on his surroundings for any movement other than their own. Softly and hushed with his voice partially muffled by the mask, he said, "Looks clear."  Yugi moved further inward and towards a hall with a number of doors along the walls. He rolled his shoulders back and sighed, "Let's take these rooms one by one—" A loud thump ruminated from one of the many closed doors; far away, but near enough to still be heard. Both of them tensed up and shared a wary glance. "Infected?" Atem pondered aloud, almost to himself; the word could've been lost in a breeze. "I think so," Yugi agreed. Holding their breaths, they scanned each of the doors, waiting for something—anything to pop out and attack them. Much to their dismay, nothing was happening visually. Another object hit the ground moments after and this one sounded much smaller in size than the first. Atem and Yugi looked at one another, shared a nod, then brandished their weapons.  Approaching the furthest door, Yugi held his rifle firmly and murmured over his shoulder, "A person..." He quickly went on to explain, "Anything infected would've heard us by now." Atem frowned and tightened his grasp on his pistol, finger hovering above the trigger. He wracked his brain for words, then swallowed thickly and mumbled, "You don't think they heard your loud ass knocking?"  Yugi rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to make a snarky comment in response. Instead, he settled for shaking his head, "Who knows? Could've been ignoring us... Either that, or making too much of a ruckus to hear us."  "Are you sure we should go inside, then? If it's a person, then we shouldn't bother them, or—" Before Atem could finish his sentence, one of the doors swung open and a cry of anguish startled them. He raised his pistol and aimed it directly at the person with practiced ease while Yugi readjusted his rifle. Upon realizing that they weren't alone, the person yelped in surprise and raised their hands in surrender. Their appearance made it clear that they were struggling as much as anyone else; hair disheveled and clothing tattered... Although, something in particular caught Yugi's eye—but, not Atem's. "Please!" The stranger begged, their hands shaking and knees wobbling as they stammered through tears, their voice threatening to crack with each word they spoke, "Please, don't hurt me... I—I can't—I'm not—I don't want to hurt you! I don't wanna hurt anyone, just—just please..."  Gradually, Yugi lowered his gun, but Atem maintained his stance. He wouldn't let his guard down—not after slipping up at the music shop. He had embarrassed himself enough and felt too foolish to make the same mistakes again. 

Ask Game

#thank you again for the ask friend! <33 #i had to think hard about this one #but here you go! #ask game #atlas answers

[the-emperors-pets-au-and-more]

Little Luz Part 2

Landing on the outside of the bridge rather than inside seemed weird but Luz decided not to question it out loud. The guard didn't seem to say much as they got off and he lead her towards the cool but intimidating castle. Like the tower hadn't been intimidating enough.

"So castles huh?" Luz tried to stir up some convention.

"Yeah? You are going to be taken to the Emperor so-" The casual almost uncaring tone of the guard almost made Luz want to laugh but it wasn't long until what he had said set in. She didn't know much about Emperors but from what little she knew she knew they were bad news. At least the way they were usually shown in media like her shows and movies they were bad.

"Are you sure I need to see him? maybe I could just go back to that weird tower place?" While the thought of being put back in a cell wasn't the nicest she also knew she didn't want to face whoever this Emperor was.

"no, I've been told to bring you to him, by him." at least the answer was to the point. Before she could reply they had made it across the bridge where the guard she was following walked past some other guards who saluted him. Feeling more on edge she followed him closely while making a mental note to remember the way out of there in case she needed to escape. The large hallways and tall rooms made her feel small as she only felt more anxious the deeper in they walked. After a little bit, they made it to some exceptionally large doors that some guards opened up for them. While the sight of what looked like a beating heart was scary Luz found her eyes settling on the large antlers coming off a mask and the brightly glowing blue balls of light focused right back at her.

Luz felt a strange sense of panicked calm. Where she was shaky and knew it yet also so focused on this threat in front of her almost ready to react to what he would do. Waiting for him to do something or to say something.

"What is your name, little human?" Expecting a deep booming voice the almost cold calculated tone left a new chill down her spine. If there was a devil then it wasn't a goat it was a large figure in a deer mask.

"Lucia" she lied immediately knowing not to give her real name to fea or other mischievous creatures through fairytales and figured the same was probably true for whatever that thing was. However, it wasn't the only reason as she had slowly been backing away getting ready to run. She had no way of knowing how far she would be able to get but the moment the guard leading her had gone over to whisper into its ear she bolted. Knowing it was the most distracted she could risk him getting. She could hear him barking some orders but was focused on slipping past as many guards as she could. Using her smaller size to her advantage as she weaved her way around them following the path she had taken to get there. However, when she made it outside she bearly had time to stop after realizing the bridge was being pulled back. Taking a second to decide if she should go for the jump it was soon too late as one of the guards grabbed her and pulled her away from the edge as she felt her heartbeat racing faster and faster.

#lunter #beluz #empgold #philuz #little luz #little luz au