#but sleep deprivation and life happens so you have to throw it out the window

[wintertimestoryteller]

Linked Universe x Reader Fairy Tale Collection

@luimagines It is finally here! XD Apologies for the huge delay, suddenly became a dog mom again and life has been difficult, apologies to all who waited. Hopefully it's at least half decent, this did not want to write itself at all X_X

Warning for dark themes of the fairy tale kind and violence. I recommend researching Penta by Basille if some of you are curious about the interrupted story, though I did leave a lot out for obvious reasons, the first story is actually a reference and I thought it would be fun to see how many catch it and who would notice the reversal of roles here. No Shadow Links were (seriously) harmed in the making of this chapter, just Reader and their poor mind who can't catch a break.

Technically this is the final act before the Masterlist for each Link, though there is technically a bonus act and an intermission I doubt anyone would be interested in that, y'all came here for the Links and the fairy tales not the lore and behind the scenes stuff done to get here because I decided to pull a Hans Christian Andersen even while trying to keep this as short as an opening act should technically be, might write them down if there's enough interest but for now I'm leaving it up to interpretation xP

Opening Act, Scene IIII

It's almost strange, how peaceful your first few days and nights in the theater were.

It was hardly unwelcome, of course it was a pleasant surprise. Even with it's darkened, solemn corners and the way the shadows played eerily across the walls, dancing and laughing mockingly as they put on a show only they knew, it hardly felt truly unsettling for long, maybe it was just your long time on the road which made you jaded to the concept of old buildings that felt like echoes of their former selves, ever lonely, ever grieving like a widow, knowing their lover would not return from the war but waiting for as long possible before considering taking poison. The building was much the same, threading the fragile, dreamlike barrier of a long, wistful forgotten dream and a feather soft, fondness warmed memory.

It felt just about on the edge of death, but not quite ready to cross the border, it felt alive, like watching a barren wasteland attempt to host life again, even if it wouldn't last long or ever recover.

You believe it's in large part due to it's residents.

It was impressive, really, though you're all clearly wary towards one another, the troupe was seemingly more delighted by the fact they had new people to tell new tales to than bothered by the fact the Chain was clearly high strung from a long journey with the carmine and jade weariness of hunters unable to continue searching for their quarry. Director Raven had given you all full permission to explore and was only ever truly strict with corralling the crew to perform, the obsidian speckled mist of their excitement reflected in the way their coat sleeves flapped while directing each member to their roles and how their steps practically glided across the floor and the stage, their feline companion ever present on their shoulders as they truly gave their name sake justice as they crowed and crooned new characters into Byron's ears, sparkling ruby glee as the bloody feather on their hair and gem collar at the gentleman's smile with the flame bright elation of a mad man as he worked on costumes, scenery and props like a man possessed occasionally hissing like an offended cat at Edgar, who was quick to bark and judge even the slightest imperfection as he marked cues for Anabella's scripts, the woman, once having heard of the Links musical prowess, having lit up like the chandelier serving as spotlight at the stage, gently having coaxed the boys towards Amelia, the petal soft smiling dark haired young woman you've met earlier whom Raven just couldn't help but squawk amusedly at Anabella having a very clear soft spot for, who wasted no time in convincing a few of the heroes to follow sheet music the young woman had written but never quite had enough people to help perform.

It was honestly amusing, seeing the young woman and Warriors practically team up to bully Legend into playing the violin again, the veteran protesting for a good while, until a small, well placed tease from Sky made him cave, you and Wind both pretending to hide bright laughs at seeing him pretend not to smile, the jewel bright sight of her delight making you feel warm as she suggested to the exccentric playwright to share your own stories with the troupe and the boys once again as the sweet notes of musical and Raven's narration rolled up and across the aisles, the ruby cheer of the chattering of their cheek with the sweet aquamarine of your gentleness making even the likes of ever serious steel serious Cal or solemn First smile.

The only incident any of you all had really was when you've met Priscilla properly, or to be more accurate, when Priscilla found you all, the youngest of the troupe popping from the ceiling like a bat in front of you from the theater's costume attic like a reverse phantom of the opera, giving you a small fright with her cat smug smile as she finished fixing the lights and eagerly jumped into Twilight's back the second she heard Epona being mentioned, asking all sorts of questions about horses and their proper care until Edgar came knocking to pry her off.

A few minor incidents were had, what with your boys' usual brand of chaos and only so much you, Time and First could do while Raven rounded up the brand of madness found in their own little troupe (like how Anabella, much like Hyrule, should not be allowed near any form of food supply lest they both commit crimes agaisnt nature and the last leg of Wild's morals and sanity, how Byron, Warriors and Legend could almost snarl at each other like feral dogs when it came to fashion sensibilities, or Priscilla attempting to coax Wind and Spirit onto the attic and catwalks with her to play pranks onto the unsuspecting audience and performers below just to see Four and Edgar twitch), but overall, the first three days of constant strong storms and two of the stories told passed quickly, like the heartbeat of a humming bird.

... Which made your own feelings for a certain hero grown ever more transparent like the polished crystal which made up the spotlight.

How could you not contemplate these feelings? How could you even begin denying something that has been sinking it's teeth into your soul for months now? Ever since the Chain found you, injured and with nowhere to go, it was always moving, ever forward, ever running, ever hunting, for if you all didn't hunt the shadow, it would stop at nothing to tear everything and everyone so much as grazed by the bright, ever burning diamond flame of the Hero's Spirit, with the burning fury of a maddened beast with nothing left to lose, with enough hunger it could render divinity to pieces. So, so so wrong to the very fabric that made up the curtain of Hyrule's stage it made one's flesh crawl before it even set it's bloody, hungry, vile gaze upon you.

(You didn't have a choice, when they'd left you behind, the portal simply opened to place you in harm's way again and again and again and again, you only survived through pure luck most of the time, the other half being due to run ins with different members of the Chain. Eventually, finally, after you'd met again and dragged First's abandoned, bleeding, almost dead but oh so stubborn he wouldn't die quite yet, carcass to camp, they'd decided to teach you how to wield a blade and take you along.

After all, it's not like you could go home.

... No, no, you couldn't go home, ever again.)

Being in the theater was a welcome breath of fresh air, even with the oddities of it's residents. But it also gave you nothing but time to think. About home, about the people who are likely to be looking for you, and kind gem bright eyes, leaves on the wind gentle touches, and smiles that could put the sun and the moon and stars to shame with their radiance and the unshakable, beautiful, lonsdaleite and steel of the will to protect and courage to follow through so, so warm it left you scorched, stealing the breath from your lungs and replacing it with lava and frost, pinning you into place better than any arrow or trick the shadow could pull. Left you aching more than any moment in the battle field, shaking you to the very marrow of your bones as the laughing dove that was affection stole into your heart like a thief, and gave half of it to the beast called love.

And

It

Was

Torture.

How could you not fall for that?

How could you not think about it?

So instead of getting even more flustered by possibly slipping up and making a fool out of yourself, giving yourself away and wanting to just wander into the Lost Woods without a guide and let yourself go mad from mortification and become a Poe (because at least then it would be a more manageable form of insanity), you'd instead taken to haunting the back wings and auditorium of the theater like a ghost. The theater was hardly all that big, but it wasn't small by any means, the size of a noble's summer home at best, so there was plenty of empty supply rooms and forgotten lounges to think, contemplate, and to keep a tenous hold on your sanity as you avoided dwelving deeply into your feelings.

After all, why would he want little old you? Unimpressive, ordinary little you, who lived a most relatively peaceful life before falling into Hyrule, who couldn't protect them properly, who most importantly of all would hurt the one you adored because you couldn't stay?

... It would be agony, you couldn't do that to him. It wouldn't be any difference than the Shadow taking your face and torturing your hero, so you'd stay silent, and hope these feelings died a quiet, peaceful death. At least in this abandoned lounge room you could refrain from making your hopeless longing obvious until you'd need to return.

"Oh me oh my, what are you doing here all alone?" Came a cawed, lilting honey coated rasp, padparascha curiosity in the the flap of nightlock coat sleeves, "I thought you'd want to join your companions! This place is still too dusty for back tours I'm afraid."

... Well, not quite so abandoned now. Is it?

Then again, you're not even too surprised, you'd be lying if you'd say you were. If there was anyone who could navigate these darkned, old halls with ease to find someone allegedly missing, it would likely be it's master.

Director Raven swoops into the room with quick, almost silent steps, a specter with the grace of a Gerudo dancer, sending you a smile, their feline companion is gone, but their ever present bloodstone feather chimes like a bell as they brush dust off an old couch, you laugh sheepishly, hoping that the tempest winds outside took your thoughts away so you could focus, "I'm sorry, you said we could go just about everywhere and I needed some time alone. Hopefully it's not any trouble?"

They cluck at you, taking a new accessory from their coat and placing it behind your ears with a cheeky poke to the nose, you blink as you touch it, a red, red rose, "Oh please, not at all! I'm a professional of my word you know? I was just worried is all, you're basically part of the troupe at this point and your lover boy has been staring at you with such concern, you know? So I thought I'd check on you."

Their concern makes you blink, with a small bite of confusion to their wording, "I've only helped you folks perform for three days now?"

They chuckle with amusement, the tone raspy and crowing as they perch themselves upon the couch, "Doesn't matter! We've had folks who stayed and helped for less time, we still consider them troupe members. Once taken in by the Astoria, you're part of it for all time, can't I have some empathy for someone so clearly pining?", You jolt, the director gives you a knowing smile, mercury amusement and gallium understanding, how did...? "Broken hearts are as dangerous as broken minds and wills to a person, take it from me. I've told and been part of one too many stories to know that all too well, now, why don't you tell good old uncle Raven what ails you?"

That makes you snort, rose quartz embarrassment mixed with xanthic amusement, "Uncle, really? Weren't you the one who said you'd actually take someone to court for emotional damages if someone tried utilizing gendered terms for you?"

They squawk, ruffling your hair with a click and hiss, as they jump up with ruffled feathers and a raised chin, mock offended, "Oh kiss my grits! This ain't about me here. This is about your longing making me sad and me being willing to hear you out from the goodness of my heart, and there you go! Spitting on my good will! As I was about to offer to make you tea, no less."

You laugh and you catch a grin on the director's lips from the reflection of a mirror, you wave them on, "Alright, alright. I'll humor you, will you want some help deciding the next story to tell while at it?"

They wink, prancing around the room for the kettle in the corner, "You know me too well! You're a wealth of new stories, I can listen to you pour your little heart out and grill you for inspiration at the same time. That way your heart will be lighter than a leaf on the wind when you next see your lover boy"

Settling in, you wait until Raven has made you both tea, getting comfortable and taking a sip.

Mhm, coming to the theater was a welcome change of pace. And talking to someone who wasn't Link about this would likely do you good.

(So preoccupied you are with your thoughts and the vaguely floral tea the director had broken out of storage and brewed, you don't notice the way another figure shows up on the reflection of the mirror just as the thunder booms, and how Raven's gloved fingers tighten a fraction as the shadows flicker oddly once you drink the tea. The cinnabar of their smile turning iron speckled with guilt and tense as they spot bloodstone tiger eyes on the doorway. Before turning fireplace warm once the Hero of Skies popped his head onto the doorway after a few hours of listening to you want, they offer him a spot of tea.)

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The storm still raged on relentlessly outside, it's screams and howls those of lost souls and old forgotten or yet to be remembered deities rending the air with water and thunder, it's been almost a week since you all had started staying in the theater, everyone had settled into a small sort of routine, as it didn't seem like the storm would cease to rage anytime soon. You'd all wake up (checking your weapons as you go, just in case, your dagger on your sleeve a common secret among the Chain members ever since a bad run in with the Yiga, Artemis had taught you and Warriors well and if any of the troupe members notice, they didn't press), go through the usual daily routine you all had while under an actual roof, Wild, you and Twilight would cook with occasional aid from either Raven themselves who twitched and squawked about the injustice of allowing guests to cook before Edgar would cuff them over the head and take over or a very chipper Amelia whose early morning energy could only be likened to a ray of sunshine Anabella would trip over her feet and possibly kill a grown man for, and in turn you'd all take your turns occupying themselves for the day, the troupe making sure to give everyone their due space until the early evening, which is when you'd all take to storytelling.

You couldn't help your small grin as you let yourself be led by the hand by Twilight, blindfold coming off as he twirled you around as you deliberately sang an incredibly off key note, laughter and chuckles being draw from your boys as you were set down onto the stage and raised your tune, his pelt slipping off your head like the heavy, but comforting cape it was, his smile campfire warm and oak steady, Raven's crowing laughter being hidden by a coughing fit before they seemed to compose themselves enough to continue on with a straight face, "And so the wolf, once a princess, remembered the prince. And thought she'd never sing again, and it wasn't very good-" they choked as you deliberately hit a note that sounded like a dying cucco, you can vaguely see Cal coughing into his fist, First shaking his head in amusement in contrast to Sky's summer breeze laughter while Time's lips barely twitched with honey sweet amusement and Wind wheezing agaisnt a laughing Spirit's side, mission accomplished! The director sent you a look, mockingly ruffling his feathers, "Commit less to the bit darn it! I won't be able to finish if I'm rolling around on the floor!"

Your smile widens with cheek, topaz bright with delight, "No such thing as overcommiting to the bit!"

"For what it's worth they don't sound too bad when not trying to sound like a goat going into labor." Cut in Twilight, using your head as an arm rest, you playfully shove him off, you briefly catch a smirk on Warriors face, Four chuckling while Legend leant agaisnt his side for support, good. Him and Hyrule looked off kilter recently, if you could make them smile by playing the fool this once, you'd be glad.

"Oh by the Goddesses- I'm almost regretting allowing you to volunteer on stage. I'm never listening to Priscilla ever again, anyway!" They clap their hands, clearing their throat, "The prince couldn't care less, for he had a dear friend back to him. And so they stayed on that cliff's edge, enjoying each other's company and lived happily ever after!"

"That was a shockingly sweet story," Smiled Hyrule, "Short and simple but just sweet enough."

"Can't believe the rancher actually made half decent royalty though." Jabbed Warriors, though you can feel the amusement in his tone like drinking songs after a long time of conflict. "And that the final conflict was basically triggered if someone ever messed with the vet's raccon pile of stuff."

"Excuse me?!"

"You're excused."

Twilight gave him a side glare then nodded at Hyrule, seemingly deciding that Legend could deal with Warriors well enough and after you playfully darted around him like a prancing doe, snagged his pelt back, you sighed at the loss of warmth and the feeling of security, but ushered him off the stage, "Never been on stage before and have no wish to do so on an official capacity, thank you. But Dusk would have my hide if I didn't pick a thing or two to add to entertaining the village children if nothing else. Have to say that last twist was a shock though." He sent you a glance and smile, "You're awfully good at playing the amnesiac, I'll say. Almost had me panicking."

You chuckle sheepishly, sitting at the edge of the stage, accepting a bit of warm tea cup Raven had brewed for everyone, "To be fair, there's a reason for that Wars, there's technically a companion story for the witch, but the actors need to go through a specific series of actions to be allowed to perform it side by side for consistency and that would be cruel on Twi. Could say the same to you, you make quite the dashing, kind prince. Thanks for coming up here."

Was that a tinge of crimson on his cheeks? You tilted your head and blinked, must have been a trick of the light, "No problem at all."

Edgar nodded, not even looking up from the script as Anabella and Amelia cuddled together to the side after a job well done, "You both together definitely made our job easier. Barely had to cue you both."

Raven nodded with a grin and wink, their voice carrying over the stage and to the audience, "You sure none of you boys want to quit this questing nonsense and join us here on the Astoria? I pay well and give benefits! Byron has lowered prices on potions on the village, plus free food and lodging."

Wild shook his head with a hum, "Tempting, but still no."

Raven clucked, their disappointment exaggerated but understanding as they leafed through the scripts you've both brainstormed together, "Ah well, worth a try. Come here then, I want your opinion on our next pick for today, I think we can squeeze a short one separated from the original deal as a bonus."

You nodded, getting up and handing Priscilla the empty tea cup back before walking over, pausing, did... Was there a hollow space beneath the stage? Experimentally, you let your steps weight a bit more onto the stage. That sounded like a trapdoor, huh. Why only use the attic? Maybe it was stuck? You catch Time's eye, he inclines his head questioningly, you mouth at him 'I'm fine, later', then bound over to Raven's side, looking at the scripts, "Any you had in mind? We're probably exhausting my mental stock at this rate if none of the noted ones do."

"Well I'm not about to go on the Hyrulean ones just yet, you have any idea how performing the same old legends over and over again can grow dull? No matter how many twists and turns one adds?" They deadpan back, you cover a wince as Four and Sky twitch, before picking one of the sheets at random.

Your voice sounds distant to your ears as you pinch the parchment between two fingers, analyzing it critically, then presenting it to the director, "How about this one? Should be short enough right?"

The Director peeks over your shoulder, head tilted from side to side, the feather on their hair seems more bloody than usual, as if the crystal would flow crimson and stain the hardwood floor. That cat is back on their shoulder again, looking at you with sharp, intelligent eyes.

(Too intelligent, hisses your mind, as mercury heats into burning iron at a forge, then cools, something is wrong wrongwrong

Come now, relax, it'll all be alright. Play along

Nothing is wrong, it's all in your head.)

"Penta the Beautiful huh? Are you sure?"

You nod firmly, "Yes. This one will do quite nicely."

(Raven's ever present smile dims, the embers of a warm fireplace and stories around the fire dying a quick death, Anabella holds onto Amelia a bit tighter as Priscilla pales, quickly leaving the room guided by Byron after ushering you back stage for a change of ensemble and to hand you the appropriate props while Edgar resolutely keeps an eye on the cues the director handed him.

The Chain notices, because of course they do, and trade a look, Spirit trades a look with Wind and slips away to the entrance with Warriors to try the heavy door.

It's locked, the shock of magic making the captain hiss. Though the air remains unnervingly sterile.)

The stage is set with no fanfare by Byron, and you walk back out with a fine white dress suit and boots to match, a mix of a suit and a dress, your head feels clouded, as if you're trying to traverse the deep fog of the Lost Woods with naught a single lantern or guide in sight to light your way, you vaguely hear Director Raven start to talk, echoing and crowing raspily with the first words that every good tale start with, "Once upon a time, there was an once prosperous kingdom. Home to a handsome king, a beautiful queen, and the king's sister, one day the queen fell ill and eventually passed for no cure could be found and no magic could heal her. I suppose some things are simply fated to happen, but the king, maddened in his grief, started lusting for none other..." The director paused, sneering with a disgusted shiver, you think that if they truly were a bird, their feathers would be ruffled, "His own sister."

You could see the exact second that each Link cringed back, those with siblings of their own (or who actively looked over others as siblings themselves) turning to ash white and to thistle green with revulsion and horror, the director nodding along with a hand over their head in a mock swoon, "I know! How could such vile thoughts manifest in a ruler's mind? It's preposterous! Outrageous! Horrifying! Though the words of a proposal did indeed leave his mouth, his sister princess was equally bewildered and disgusted, spitting venom from her spleen with rage."

That was your cue.

You growled, snarling with fury hot enough to rival a dragon's flame, allowing poison to sharpen your tongue, "You may have lost your mind, but I shall not lose my modesty or my shame! Why would you offer me rotten eggs when you need fresh ones?! How dare you!", somewhere in the audience you hear a choke, but you continue on. Committing to the role with a dedication you didn't know you possibly possessed, feeling vaguely disconnected from your body and actions, "I regret that you have a tongue to speak of such lecherous actions towards myself and that I unfortunately have the ears to hear such a suggestion. Am I your sister or cheese cooked in oil? Either way those and siblings not mix! Either way, go find a holy spring to bathe in so you may set your mind back on straight." You gesture towards yourself, baffled, "I am not a morsel that would make anyone lose their minds over, so what on Farore's good land about me could have made you grown so sick in the head?"

The director continued on, tone dry as they set their hand on a hip, "I'll spare you the monologue, my dear audience, because I'm sure it would make both you, me and our poor performer here retch and that would be a waste of Sir Wild's lovely cooking. It essentially boiled down to her hands. So, after acquiring her answer, she left in a flurry of rage and conviction, after all, if it was her hands that caused this..." The director trailed off, pausing, mouth clicking shut.

As if not willing to continue on.

(The pain in your head was getting worse.

"If it was his love for her hands which caused this, all she'd need to do is chop them off.")

Conflict passes through their slate gray gaze, before determined resolve settles into it, their tone quiet and tight, "... No. I can't go through with this anymore.", They swivel, running to you with quick strides, you feel the agony of your head splitting open, in between the haze you see more than react to the blade. Your blade held in your hands, twisted in such a way to sink into your flesh, blood beads onto your sleeve before Raven catches your arm in their hands, twisting towards the now alarmed heroes with panic on their face like a someone realizing they'd just went somewhere to die, "Listen! It's not safe here, specially NOT for them. I'm so sorry. Take them and get out through-"

That cat is there in a flash of darkness, it sinks it's claws into Raven's shoulder, the director crying out and letting go of your arm to try and get it off, leaving the dagger to slice deeply. You can see Time slam into a magically erected barrier around the stage as it's crimson eyes gleam with malice and satisfaction. The cat bites at the director's shoulder, tearing away the black ribbon holding the red gem they always wore. You hear Legend screaming and Hyrule casting a spell at the barrier, the shockwave palpable as it does not budge

You'll never know what they wanted to tell you all, though the flash of desperation, guilt and apologies will likely haunt your nightmares as their head fell off.

All of the lights go off.

And in a flash of thunder, you hear a sigh behind you. The barest tips of a clawed hand making your skin crawl with revulsion.

"Well... I'd like to say I'm surprised. But I'm really, really not that they didn't have the nerve to fully go through with it. Pity." That awful, awful voice is colored with disappointment while they pass you by, you think you feel the brush of a scaly tail around your legs and a blade at your throat. You try desperately to wrestle control back to your own body when you can't hear the Chain anymore. They stalk dance gently at your side, the rustle of cloth as someone bends down, the crystalline, padparascha crimson feather Raven always wore in their hair gleams in the dark with a melancholic light of their own, "Ah well, at least they did half the job I wanted them to and held onto what I needed. Still, just proves that if you want somebody gone that you just have to do it yourself."

You feel a feather light touch on your chin, tilting your head up, your heart freezes alongside your body as you lock gazes with the bloodstone empty gaze of a feathery mask, the figure in front of you wears a dark hood, caliginous and fleeting like the memories of a nightmare hanging onto your mind by it's very claw tips. It blends in perfectly with the darkness, liminal and just on the edge of the negative spaces of reality.

They smile with all of the sweetness of rotten things and arsenic and it makes you sick.

"Dear me... You are so, so pathetically helpless like this. I can take my time with you, can't I? To tear everything that makes you yourself piece.by.piece..." the touch tightens, nightlock claws sink into your skin and drawing blood, you feel like screaming but your mouth won't open, your body betrays you as you drown and drown and fall. It makes the thing behind you hiss out a laugh and you are certain you won't hear a more wretched sound in your life as they study you like a pinned butterfly, "How very precious, it fills me with joy, but really it's more disappointing and disgusting. It's almost enough to make me want to die!" The being in front of you snarls, all venom and the burning flames of a madman, before they calm, smiling a dagger sharp, hateful grin with a hum, "... Ah, whatever. Let's get this show on the road properly this time, shall we? You wait for your cue darling." They mockingly pat the snout of the Shadow in front of you, narrowingly dodging a snap of teeth with a cackle, before they disappear in a flurry of obsidian and ember feathers.

They clap, and the light returns to the theater. Their mismatched hands are spread, clawed and gloved and you see a cloak of black feathers laid over their entire body, the tip of dagger sharp, silver heels making them tower easily over the pool of blood from the director's severed neck.

"Good evening, blood red dogs of Hylia!-"

They barely finish their sentence before the boys move, arrows and magic set loose at the figure in a blur, the figure dances back, tsking as they appear on the chandelier now, lounging nonchantly and revealing your form at blade point from the Shadow, struggling to remove your dagger from your arm. You can almost feel their disapproving look as they cross their arms at the face of furious glares from the heroes of Hyrule, "Rude."

First does not look amused as he stays Sky's hand from unleashing a Skyward Strike, the other's eyes as frigid as the storm outside, "We are going to need you to let our companion go before any apologies are given I'm afraid."

"And I'll be needing you lot to stop snapping and growling like mutts before making any negotiations like that." The figure snaps back primly, a pot and tea cup appearing nearby, with a flick of their wrist two things appear on their hands as freshly brewed tea poured itself which makes a shiver fun down your side, alarm and panic gnawing at your skin and exposing your fragile heart with almost clinical curiosity as they toss it down.

A dark iris purple Minish Feather earring, and penumbra dark, torn fairy feathers, you think you still see the bits of wisps clinging to it like blood and the exact moment Four tenses, colors prismatic as they flash over his eyes and Hyrule freezes, Twilight sending them a concerned look, though his hand doesn't move from his sword.

The display is enough to keep your companions on guard, but not react, that thing atop the chandelier perfectly positioned to crush you without a second thought leisurely sipping tea. Before addressing the Chain below, "Now that I've successfully gotten your attention by indicating the extermination of vermin I've had to recently do, why don't we talk? I'm perfectly reasonable, I promise not to bite or anything, blood is quite the nuisance to clean off rhe stage after all."

"Very well," Time's voice cuts through the silence, composed even as his mind is running a mile per minute, "May we make some inquiries?"

Their lips curl in amusement, a slightly mocking edge to their relaxed lilt, "There we go, was being polite so hard? You may, one at a time though!" They look down at the Shadow, which hisses up at them, eyes focused on the heroes, the edges of it's existence flickering oddly, casting itself over walls and the now scorched wooden floor, "Don't want to agitate our friend here you know? Or else we'll have a sparrow singing very very soon." They sing song, you can feel Warriors cringe where he stands, but he's also the first one to jump to questioning at Time's slight nod.

"Why are you working with the Shadow?"

The figure shrugs, pouring themselves a second mug, "Why does anyone do anything? Complete and utter, sheer boredom is why. It had a good sales pitch won't lie, I haven't been bored since you lot decided to stay here."

You see the way Legend's eyes narrow, a scowl on his face and tone biting, itching to move, "What did you do to them?"

"You'll have to be more specific, if you mean your little friend here. Nothing really, they came up on the stage and used the knife themselves after all." The masked figured clucked, shrugging, "As for the rest, you can blame Raven. They lost their nerve when they shouldn't have and dragged the troupe down with them, when I gave them one job besides watching my theater, plus..." they sighed, placing Raven's feather by the thorns holding the mask grafted onro their face, clicking their clawed, bloody hand agaisnt the tea cup, uncaring when your blood mixes with the sugar cubes, "They also failed to do proper research, I mean doesn't help certain nasty little disgraces-" they growl pointedly at the Shadow at that, who snarls back, making a twisted duet of mutual, black loathing come to life, "Also made their job harder, but seriously. Even a braindead donkey could have done a bit more research."

"What do you mean? No need to insult Raven like that! They were nice." Blurted out Spirit, you can practically feel the poor dear itching to snap the whip to snatch you, Wind holding onto his an Cal's wrists like a vice so they wouldn't make any sudden moves, First tapping Calamity's back and looking at the hooded being's perch, making Calamity's eyes narrow and Sky slowly let go of the possible Skyward Strike, thankfully enough. Being crushed to death would not help your boys get out of here.

The hooded and masked figure twitched, head listing lazily to the side, unhurried, as if bored or maybe dissapointed as they sighed apathetically, it gave you gooseflesh, but you dared not move an inch, struggling against your own limbs and with the Shadow at your back, "I mean I was just taken by surprise. You know, I wouldn't have taken the heroes of Hyrule for liars and oath breakers, and also against the laws of hospitality. Shooting arrows and magic at your host within their own home? For shame! Didn't your parents teach you better?"

You could see how each of the heroes bristled, but seeing crimson beading against your unwilling, trapped skin stayed their blade, though that did not stop Legend from snarling up at the hidden figure, sipping tea as if it was watching an incredibly entertaining play, "Oath breakers? That's rich coming from you! Raven said we could stay here safely and then leave once the storm was over!"

"And you attacked one of our own first." Added Warriors, his tone as glacial as the winter winds, enough to freeze anyone down to the marrow.

They incline their head, voice distorted, the screaming echo of scavengers like nails on chalkboard and as refined as a well curated blade, "True, though neither they nor I never said you'd all leave unharmed, did we? And you didn't keep your end of the deal either." Their tone goes dryer, as they throw the tea cup away without a care in favor of throwing their hands up, as if it was the Chain being unreasonable and not the person who presumably did something to Shadow and Hyrule's own Shade, you can see Sky barely keeping his grip on an enraged Four, "Besides! I didn't attack them, they kindly volunteered to go up stage on their own. You're all so up in arms for something that's part of the performance, a little injury is a small price to pay for the bit."

"A 'little injury'?! I doubt they'd try cutting off their own hands for a BIT." Stressed Hyrule, snapping out of his shock, in response to that, the cloaked person shrugged.

"I mean a little disarment never killed anyone."

Wild looked seconds from firing another arrow, teeth gritted and bared as Twilight sent a furious glare to the one perched atop the stage, just above the lights, ready to knock them down and crush you if needed be, "I'm pretty sure it has, actually."

"Anyway! You're all so caught up on semantics, by the Three, so uptight. Does having the splinters so far up there not sting?" they glanced at the Shadow, the obsidian and granite lizalfos glancing back at them before hissing at Time, ready to lunge, teeth stained with Director Raven's blood, "This the kind of tough crowd you have to deal with? Yeesh, no wonder you yap more than a kicked dog at times." They turn back to the Chain, clapping their hands, "In any case, let's make another deal, shall we? I'm a playwright of my word after all. You could leave your little friend here to become one of my actors and go on your merry way." You swore you felt your heart stop, blood rushing in your ears, you barely caught the sharp glint of a hollow smile beneath the crow shaped mask and their next words, "Or! If you're really that attached-", they send you a bemused look, "Can't see why but hey," shrugging, they continue on, unrelenting like a hunting wolf, "You can act instead. I'll send you all into different tales and should you finish them in accordance to the script, I may let you just leave without too much of a fuss. No catches." They point to the Shadow, "Can't make any promises for that one though, it's a solo act you see, if anything I'm just lending the venue and he was lucky to rent first, the wretch."

"And if we refuse?" Probed Time, you could see the gears turning in his head like clockwork, trying to find a way to swing this in everyone's favor so you all can get out alive.

The vulture in crow skin only smiled wider, "Then none of us gets them and you die here, I'll let the Shadow tear you apart to it's void soul's delight, and kill them on the spot." The blades press against your arms against your will, and you twitch, trying to wrestle control back and only getting pain for you troubles, muffling a yell, "Maybe put them in a soup and make jewelry out of the bones that I don't reuse in a broth, I'd look pretty dashing in a crown." They giggle, unhinged cruelty into every word as they clap their hands, voice rising to a screeching crescendo, "Oh oh! Or just roll them down a barrel filled with spikes on a hill, or make them dance and dance and dance on hot iron shoes until they drop dead! Haven't decided yet, so many choices, so little time. It's almost enough to leave me hot and bothered." The true owner of the theater sighed, longingly hugging themselves before turning a cold, hard tone to the heroes, "You sure you want to risk that?"

Silence descends upon the theater like a widow's shroud, seems you're all at an impasse, you're unable to move and while you're certain your boys could overpower whatever that monstrosity is and deal with the Shadow, none of you could be sure they could do it before the Shadow slit your throat or that being (person? No, it felt too unnatural to be human.) Knocked the chandelier down or made good on their threat.

The masked unknown simply summoned themseles a second mug, pouring more tea, "Take your time to answer. I can wait. Though if you ask me the choice is extremely obvious, come on now, what's one more or one less for your little group? It's not like they're important to the narrative anyway-"

"No tricks?" Cut in First, you see the being twotch at the interruption.

"Rude. Seriously, does Hylia just likes to pick the feral ones and set them loose upon the world? Seems like bad business." They pause, then hum, "Then again, maybe not, I hear her incarnations can be quite unhinged. Quite the match made in hell, you lot then and those Demise decides to live rent free in huh? I almost feel bad now. Yikes, my condolences." They pluck a bouquet of camellias, roses and acacias from the inside of their cloak and throw it down to the Chain. You're not even surprised when Wild snags the fire rod from Legend and sets it aflame.

"Holding our friend hostage and talking about actively killing them doesn't inspire us to play nice." Gritted out Four. Grip tight onto his sword.

"If you feel bad then just let them go!" Gestured Wind from his side.

"Your criticism has been noted. I only don't concede because I can't see any reason why you'd want them around." The figure drawls back before answering First, "No tricks or catches or too much of a fuss, all you have to do is play along the script and play nice. Do that and in theory we shouldn't have much trouble. Maybe I'll even be nice and throw in one of those rewards like the places you all crawl through do on occasion, why not?" The Shadow roars at that, they snap down at it, "My theater, my rules! I'm bored okay? Let me spice things up!"

Time breathes, you can see the lonsdaleite persistence come back to the forefront, "Then we accept."

The figure stills, before shaking their head, they leap down from the chandelier, gliding across the stage with quick steps as the feeling of drowning recedes, the Shadow begrudgingly letting you go as you gasp, the figure snags your arm in one clawed hand, drags you to the edge of the stage, then kicks you off with a sigh, thankfully, Twilight and Warriors are there ro support you as they turn towards Time, tone blank as they extend that same clawed hand, "Way to pick the boring choice, but fine. I shouldn't expect much of a surprise I suppose." They shake hands, you feel the hum of magic settle into the air, twisted and wrong it almosy brings that drowning feeling back, water trying to pull you down as they grin and step back, opening a blank, black book, snagging the crystalline quill and using your blood as ink, they write, everything goes dark quickly as the Shadow snuffs out every light again as it dissolves, spreading ober every single nook and cranny of the open space.

You think they bare their teeth at you specifically before snapping the book shut, "Let me weave you a tale!"

----------------------------------------------------------

Scene IIII End. Thus closes the Opening Act.

#linked universe x reader #linked universe au #lu x reader #linked universe fairy tale au #fairy tale typical violence #fairy tale typical dark themes #reference to Penta of the Chopped Off Hands #told y'all not to get attached to the theater crew #Reader is going through it and frankly it's probably gonna go downhill from there #wonder how many will catch the reference with Twilight #I thought it would be cute to be fair. Reader has a lot of knowledge from our world and they'd likely convert as many stories as they could #for variety if nothing else #Dink's hired help here just wants to watch the world burn and preferably roast Reader over a fire while at it #why? that's for me to know and y'all to find out lol #they're not really relevant to the plot. they're just here to kick it into gear. cause chaos. be dramatic and bully Dink #specially if he messes up the venue #No Shadow Links were Permanently Harmed in the Making of this Chapter #WintertimeStoryteller Stop Clowning Yourself and Stick to the OG Outline Challenge (Failed Miserably) #That moment when you write and rewrite the chapter and has a nice little plan for the story #but sleep deprivation and life happens so you have to throw it out the window #Reade is all over the place because they're meant to don't worry. The theater just Does That #no beta we die like my sanity #no beta we die like First and the Hero's Shade #WintertimeStoryteller Writing #Hopefully it's at least half decent

[rainiishowers]

Obey Me Incorrect Quotes

A/N: Haha sleep deprivation go brrrrr

———

MC: So I can either do something dumb that could very well get me injured or I can listen to Simeon and not do the thing,

MC: Well there’s a clear right answer here.

MC: *proceeds to throw five packs of mentos into a barrel full of diet coke*

——

Barbatos’, at Solomon’s “funeral”: I need a moment with them.

Everyone else at the funeral: Of course. *leaves*

Barbatos, leaning over Solomon’s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead.

Solomon, sitting up in the coffin: Yeah, no shit.

——

Asmodeus: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one.

——

Satan: ARE YOU-

MC: Fucking.

Satan: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

MC: Fucking.

Satan: IDIOT!

Beelzebub: …What was that?

MC: Lucifer banned Satan from swearing, so I’m helping him out.

——

Simeon: The odds of this happening by coincidence are vanishingly small.

Satan: I would say infinitesimally.

Mammon: And I'd say teenily-weenily. We all know words

——

Leviathan: I lost my fish.. :(

Beelzebub, cooking the fish: …Uhm…

——

Solomon: Protip is you do not feel good about yourself after eating tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce.

Luke: Are you okay???

Solomon: I literally JUST said I ate tomato sauce on iceberg lettuce. Pay attention.

Simeon: No, they mean other than that.

Solomon: Ohhhhhh.

Solomon: I haven't slept in 4 days.

——

Belphegor: Why were you up yesterday until 3am?

Mammon: How did you know I was up until 3am?

Lucifer: We could hear you clapping to the FRIENDS intro every 25 minutes.

——

Mammon: If we don’t get out of this alive… If we’re both about to die… I love you, MC!

*Neither of them die*

MC: …

Mammon: …

MC: So do you wanna talk about somethi-

Mammon: No thank you.

——

MC: How long do you reckon it’ll be until Simeon finally snaps and commits murder?

Solomon: I’ve been going through life assuming it’s already happened at some point and it’s just that no one was ever able to trace it back to them.

——

MC: We’re going to defeat you with the power of friendship!

Mephisto: We’re not friends.

MC, holding an axe: We’re going to defeat you with the power of incredible violence.

——

Asmodeus: Don't break someone's heart, they only have one.

Satan: Break one of their bones instead, they have 206 of them

——

Beelzebub: I’m so jetlagged I can’t even regrender my chorf.

*Everyone stares at Beel*

Beelzebub: …I don’t even know what I was trying to say.

——

Asmodeus: What's worse than a heartbreak?

Satan: Stepping on a cat's tail and not being able to explain that you're sorry.

——

Luke: You know guys, sometimes I feel like Lucifer doesn't take me seriously enough.

Mammon: "Sometimes"?

Solomon: "Enough"?

Luke: …

——

Lucifer: Lord Diavolo? What are you doing here?

Diavolo, wearing a hawaiian shirt, sunglasses and holding a gatorade: My best.

——

Mammn: *is throwing stones at MC’s window*

MC: You have a phone for a reason, Mammon!

*THUD*

MC: DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR PHONE AT MY WINDOW?!

——

Solomon: Guess who just found out the difference between wax paper and parchment paper the hard way?

Asmodeus: Wait, what’s the difference?

Solomon: One you can use in the oven safely, and the other you can also use in the oven... if the thing you are trying to make happens to be fire.

——

Solomon: Wow, they really hate us.

Asmodeus: Yea, perhaps they’re homophobic.

Solomon: But we’re not gay, Asmo.

Asmodeus: We’re not?

#obey me incorrect quotes #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me brothers #obey me side characters #obey me mc #obey me crack #sleep deprived af

[cowgurrrl]

United in Grief

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (except this is all backstory)

Author’s note: I’m sorry

Summary: “My mom honks her car horn every time she drives past the cemetery her friend is buried in. This is what I think love is: everlasting. Deathless.” [1.8k]

Warnings: if you’ve been reading this far, you know what to expect

April 7th, 1998

You're trying to figure out how you got here. You think the nurses are trying to figure out the same thing. You answer their questions in between contractions, your body shaking and overheating all at the same time. Your water broke at home while you were getting ready for school. You probably shouldn't have even thought about going when your Braxton-Hicks contractions were so bad. Still, you needed to finish school somehow. You were sitting down in the bathroom when it happened.

"Is there anyone we can call for you?" A nurse asks, snapping you out of your head as she checks your and the baby's heart rate. "Boyfriend? Parents? Friend?"

"There's no boyfriend, and I don't think any of my friends care enough to come," you sigh, rubbing your belly. "Besides, everyone's still at school."

"What about your mom? I'm sure she'd want to be here with you." She says gently, but the words feel like sandpaper rubbing over your skin. The baby kicks, and you press your hand back, letting her know you feel her.

"If you can get her to answer the phone, it'd be a low-level miracle."

"She's not supportive?"

"Having a pregnant sixteen-year-old was never on the bucket list. She hasn't spoken to me since I told her about the baby. Neither has the father, and I… I understand what it looks like." you say. You've read the statistics about teen moms and how they are less likely to finish high school. You're determined not to be a part of that statistic. You will make life perfect for this baby. No matter the cost. "But I got emancipated when I was three months pregnant, and I'm living in an apartment owned by one of my classmate's dads, and he's giving me reduced rent. And I work part-time at a restaurant. People love to tip the pregnant girl, right? So, we'll be okay. I'll be okay."

"It's okay if you're not." The nurse says, but you shake your head.

"I need to be okay for her."

"You're having a girl?" She asks, and you hum. She smiles and glances at the different machines you're hooked up to, making sure everything is in order. "Well, it sounds like she's very lucky to have you as her mama."

"Thank you." You mumble. It's the nicest thing anyone's said to you in months.

The nurse stays with you as your contractions get closer together and more painful. She rubs your back when you throw up and keeps you upright when they administer your epidural. Eventually, in your drugged-up, sleep-deprived state, you ask her to, at least, try to call some people for you. You give her Matt, your mom's, and a few friends' phone numbers. If anyone answers, she doesn't tell you. She doesn't have to. She just returns and perches on the edge of your bed, her hand resting on your knee.

"Y'know, I have a daughter about your age," she says. "She's super smart. Motivated. Beautiful, too, and don't get me wrong. She's made some mistakes. Some really big ones. But I'd hope that if she were ever in this position, I'd be able to find the courage to be as brave as you are right now," she squeezes your knee, and you wipe at your eyes, unexpected tears leaking from your eyes. "We're gonna help you have this little girl, okay?"

She doesn't leave your side, even when you're yelling loud obscenities, and the room devolves into controlled chaos. She coaches you through every contraction and even braids your hair so it's out of your sweaty face. Your doctor and two other nurses come in once you're fully dilated to help support you and the doctor. The rain outside pounds harder on the windows as you try to push and breathe when you're supposed to, but it's so hard, and you're so tired. You've been working too hard. You haven't been sleeping enough. You definitely haven't been drinking enough water. What if you've already fucked up as a mom? What if there's no coming back from this?

Your doctor says something about needing to push harder; otherwise, you'll have to have an emergency c-section, and you start sobbing— full-bodied, earth-shattering sobs. The nurse who braided your hair shushes you gently and dabs a damp rag against your forehead. You look at her and cry harder.

"I'm scared." You admit.

"I know you are, baby, but you're so close. Can I tell you something I tell my daughter?" She asks, and you nod through your tears. "Whenever you're feeling scared, just squeeze my hand as hard as you can, and I'll take all your fear from you, alright? Show me what you got." She takes your hand in yours, and you squeeze as the next contraction takes your attention. A few minutes later, in a room full of women, you deliver your daughter with a scream loud enough to shake the entire floor, but she's silent. You look at the nurse holding your hand worriedly.

"She's not crying. Why isn't she crying?"

"Sometimes, babies have a hard time adjusting to being outside the womb. We'll get her crying, don't worry." Time seems to freeze as you watch the doctor rub your daughter's back until she rears her head back and wails. You let out a big breath, and a moment later, she's placed on your chest. You don't realize you're still holding the nurse's hand, but she doesn't let go. She lets you squeeze her until you stop shaking long enough to put your other hand on the back of your daughter's head.

She's so small and has so much hair. You stare down at her like she's the most precious jewel anyone could've ever discovered as she cries and cries. You kiss her forehead and vaguely tune into something the doctor is trying to tell you about recovery. You nod, but you're not listening. You're focusing on how your daughter's lungs expand and contract and how her heart beats against yours like it was always meant to be. Like it was forever and always supposed to be you and her.

You let the nurse holding your hand take the baby to get cleaned up as the rest of the nurses and the doctor run around to ensure you have everything you need. Once things settle and your daughter is back in your arms, people gradually leave the room for you to bask in her beauty. Now that she's here, everything seems so real, so important. The weight on your shoulders doesn't feel as heavy with her next to you, but it's still there. You're sure you'll cry later about not knowing what the fuck you're doing, but it's okay. It has to be. You're a mom now.

"I'm gonna go get some paperwork done, okay? If you need anything, even if it's just a friend, you press this button." The nurse says, putting the call button next to you in bed, and you nod.

"Thank you…" you trail off, realizing the nurse never told you her name, and she smiles, looking between you and the baby.

"Jane."

June 2nd, 2008

You're trying to figure out how you got here, outside the walls but in the opposite direction of the Shell station. You told Lee you didn't want to do any more drops so close to when Jane gets out of school. Still, the promised payout was enough of an incentive. You and Mrs. Carmichael have gotten closer since Adam died. She told you about her husband, who died long before the outbreak, and how she never changed her name back. You told her about Adam and what he meant to you. It felt like soldiers passing war stories back and forth to figure out why they were thrust onto battlefields, trying to find out what they did wrong to get drafted into a war they never imagined. She's kind. You trust her. It made sense to ask her to pick Jane up today.

Jane's been having a hard time in the past few months. A few weeks after Adam died, she asked you if he was her father. She admitted she doesn't remember much from before the outbreak and told you she vaguely remembers Outbreak Day. She's never really known a world without Adam until now. You wanted to lie and say yes. You wanted to tell her that, of course, she was a product of this beautiful, kind, amazing man. You wanted her never to know or claim Matt. You still don't know why you said no.

She barely wanted to celebrate her birthday two months ago but plastered on a smile when you surprised her with new notebooks and pencils for her to write with. These days, she's locking herself in her room with Adam's radio and her words. You remind her you love her and are there to talk, but she just nods and disappears. She's getting older. You can't shield her from the world forever, but goddammit, if you can't try for as long as you can.

You've connected with two guys on the radio who have a safe house in a safe, abandoned neighborhood in Boston. They've been giving you tips on how to find and keep a safe place outside of the QZ. With all the smugglers, weapons dealers, and survival skills you know, for the first time, it's feasible. It's possible. You could take her out of the QZ and build her that home in the forest where she could actually be a kid. You just need a few months. You can do it. You will do it for her.

Catherine's group shows up right on time, a desperate attempt to show how sorry they are for what happened the last time they were late. You don't make eye contact with her as you trade for the shit you need to. She's about to open her mouth to say something, and your fists ball up at whatever she could have to say when an ear-splitting sound emerges from the QZ. The ground shakes with the force, and you reach for your gun like you're waiting for it to happen again.

"Probably some Fireflies and FEDRA playing hot potato again," one of Catherine's guys says. "They've been throwing bombs at each other for the past month in our QZ." And just like that night you first saw fighter jets circling your city, you get an unmistakable sinking feeling in your stomach.

You start running back, praying to whatever god will still take pity on you after every sin you've committed to keep your little girl safe.

You wish you knew your prayers were landing on deaf ears. You would've run faster.

#when you’re lost in the darkness #look for the light prequel #tlou fic

[marvelmaniac715]

I can’t remember if I’ve posted this before or not but this is a winter themed gothic horror story I wrote for a class in December 2022 which I could and should probably improve upon at some point:

At first I wasn’t frightened. Of course, the notion was so absurd that it was easy enough to laugh off as a figment of my addled, sleep-deprived imagination. The construct of a strained psyche, nothing more. The idea that my daughter’s haphazardly built snowman was a living, breathing being was outlandish.

The thought of this concept came about when my five year old daughter Mathilde came running inside to me, insisting that her new friend was moving. Her mother and I indulged this fantasy when it became clear that the child simply wouldn’t see sense, and a small saucer’s worth of table scraps was left outside for ‘Mr Frost’ as he was now known, as Mathilde insisted that he was hungry.

Mathilde was heartbroken when we had to deconstruct the snowman in order to shovel our front path and retrieve my hat and scarf, she wept for hours on end. We couldn’t convince her to move from the window all of that day. At bedtime, we had to pry her away with our full strength in order to shift her.

My wife and I had hoped that she would be in better spirits by the morning, but alas, she was as solemn as the day before. Some friends of hers from school came over asking to play, but she refused. It was unsettling to see such grief from such a young child, who had no concept of death. Both sets of grandparents were still alive, and the family pet was a foul tempered cat named Spice who was still very much in the prime of life.

Two more days passed in a similar fashion, but after three days, my wife and I woke up to Mathilde bouncing up and down excitedly on our bed, imploring us to come outside. We noticed that she was already in her winter coat (half in, to be precise, she always struggled with the sleeves) and her face was flushed rose pink with the cold.

We were so thrilled to see her return to her former self that we immediately agreed to come downstairs to see what miraculous thing has restored her spirit. But when I went to grab my hat and scarf from the hook, they weren’t there. A feeling of deep wrongness took root in the pit of my stomach, and I shared an anxious glance with my wife. Could Mathilde have possibly rebuilt her snowman whilst we slept?

Sure enough, right outside, where he had stood less than a week before, was Mr Frost, glaring cooly from his coal eyes, gleaming in a solitary ray of early morning sunlight. Mathilde was beaming as she went to throw her arms around her cold companion, but her joy was quelled when my wife Gretchen gently admonished her.

“Now Mathilde, what have we told you about your friend here? He prevents us from leaving the house, and your Papa needs his hat and scarf. And it was naughty of you to sneak out at night, anything could have happened to you!”

Slightly downhearted but still glowing with the faintest hint of excitement, Mathilde grinned conspiratorially and whispered.

“But Mama, I was asleep all night, I came downstairs to fetch a glass of water and saw him outside. Don’t you see? He’s come back to me!”

This… this was clearly the fantasy of a foolish child, there was no conceivable way that a snowman (a manmade creation) could build itself overnight. Mathilde must have been trying to lie her way out of punishment, but the lie was so obvious that it was easy to see through it.

We had to deconstruct the snowman again, of course, but this time, Mathilde didn’t cry. Instead, she stood still, smiling eerily as she gazed at the front door, just beyond which lay the remains of her companion. My wife and I were unsettled, and this image stuck with me as I went to bed that night, I couldn’t sleep.

Against my better judgement, I crept downstairs and took my coat from its hook. Trying desperately to make no sound, I painstakingly opened the door, and each second my hand was exposed to the air the wind nipped at my skin. I couldn’t find my gloves. Or my hat. But Mathilde was sound asleep, I’d made sure to lock her door and window. She couldn’t have done this.

The moment I stepped outside, I was met with a bone chilling sight. The wind itself whipped the snow skywards, moulding it into a disturbingly familiar shape. My hat and gloves rose into the air, the gloves settling on two sticks that had jerked upwards like a macabre marionette, and the hat just hovering in empty space. But not for long.

The snow had settled into its final resting place, the shape of a snowman. I suddenly felt the greatest urge to rush up to my daughter’s room and apologise profusely. She was telling the truth all along, and I had dismissed her as a foolish child.

The snowman’s coal mouth grinned at me in satisfaction. The sticks jolted forwards, reaching out towards me. Then the wind blew fiercely, pelting me with angry hail and bullet-like snowflakes. This wind wrapped around the snowman and lifted it (whole) into the air. With one powerful blast, it exploded, showering the ground with snow and coal.

Shaken by what I had seen, I returned to bed, but the cold clung to me like a blanket, or more fittingly, a funeral shroud. I couldn’t shake it, even when I went entirely under my duvet. It was like the snowman was right there behind me, breathing down my neck, smiling and smiling.

It wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t it stop? Everywhere I went, every time I went outside or just sat in my kitchen, it was there. Mathilde was delighted to find her friend waiting outside for her, Gretchen just assumed that I had caved in and decided to let her have her snowman. She didn’t understand. When I tried to explain the horrors I had witnessed, she had merely laughed and told me that I was a wonderful father for indulging my child’s fantasies.

It occurred to me that Mathilde would probably know something about this. Sure enough, when I asked if she knew how he kept coming back, she beamed at me and invited me to sit down next to her. Once I was settled, and Mathilde had been assured that her mother was not around, she whispered in my ear.

“The day I built him, I accidentally spilled some water I had taken from Moon Rock Lake onto the snow he was made from. The second he had a mouth, he whispered to me that we would be best friends forever, and that he would never ever leave me. I’m so glad you’ve seen him come back too, Papa, now I have someone else to play with!”

Moon Rock Lake was said to be cursed by a vengeful witch centuries ago, spurned by a lover who went on to wed another. But that was a simple story that the village elders told to children to stop them from playing in our main water source, or so I was led to believe. There was no other explanation for what I had seen though, so I didn’t know what to think.

That night, I didn’t care if I was heard. I raced downstairs and threw open the front door. I paused to grab a shovel, but forgot my coat in my rush to get outside. Outside, I rushed at the snowman and whacked it repeatedly with my shovel until it was no more. I did what I could to separate the snow into several piles, far apart from each other, and I burned the coal, and the sticks. Regretfully, I had to burn my hat and gloves as well. Now this snow demon would be vanquished.

I slept peacefully that night, but when I awoke, my wife Gretchen was not beside me. The house was deathly silent. I crept downstairs in fright, constantly looking over my shoulder as if I was being followed. Sitting near the front door with a knife in hand was my daughter, Mathilde. She tapped the knife against the door and stared at me unblinkingly. Then she spoke.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Papa. You shouldn’t have done that at all.”

#original story #winter #gothic horror #snowman #my writing

[kpopjust4u]

Tainted Red *Chapter 4*

Post Date: 15th October 2022 Paring: ATEEZ Choi San x Reader Word Count: 2.3K Content: Fantasy, Vampire!San, Human!Reader, Slight Angst, Slight Fluff, Suggestive TW: Mention of stalking/ Sleep deprivation/ Making out/ Biting/ Slight feeding

Summary: San feels guilty for leaving you at the hospital, finding himself outside of your house, letting himself into your room as he watches you sleep, until one night you catch him. What’s going to happen now?

MASTERLIST

After the eventful day, you spent the night in your bedroom, looking up at the blank ceiling wondering about the mysterious guy that’s suddenly come into your life, who was San? It’s the question of your life at the moment, you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

What’s going on with him? Why were you so scared of him when he wasn’t around but in utter euphoria when he was? What was he? Why was he so cold to the initial touch? How did he have that much strength to throw that guy across the back of the alleyway?

It keeps you awake throughout the night, not even getting the slightest bit of sleep as you pondered about the man who saved your life, but why does he keep disappearing when you want to get him more? What was he hiding from you? Who was he hiding from?

The sun shines through the curtains and you’ve barely moved, eyes aching from being open all night without the slightest bit of rest. At this point, you thought you were going crazy as you consider that you needed to distract your mind from the idea of San for a little while.

However, that was going to be incredibly difficult as the second you looked out of your window, you notice a familiar figure sitting on your curb, rushing to grab your shoes to put them on as you stumbled down the stairs and out of the door. 

Then, poof, the figure was gone. That’s it, you found yourself actually considering that staying up all night has messed with your subconscious, making you visualise him outside of your house. I mean, how could he be out there? He doesn’t even know where you live. Or does he?

Little did you know, it took a lot for him to attempt to stay away from you after disappearing at the hospital. Though he kept his distance for your safety, he carefully watched you as you made your way home, being very few steps behind, looking at you as you stumbled into your front door, wanting to rush to make sure that you were okay but didn’t want to blow his cover. 

Since that night, he kept his distance from you but awaits for you to appear out of the comfort of our house, hidden away in the trees in the park that stretches across the land opposite your home. He could smell you from a mile away, but he could also get the scent of people in the park injuring themselves, and children scraping their knees as they fall off their bikes. It takes everything for him to keep his hunger under control, as his main focus was on you.

Despite that moment making you uneasy, you start to go about your day as you usually would, shuffling towards the kitchen to cook breakfast when your best friend joins you, noticing your tired eyes almost instantly.

“Hey, I love you enough to tell you that you look like shit, are you okay?” Rocky turns around to ask, grabbing your face as she takes a closer look, dark circles collecting under your eyes.

Quickly swatting her off, you nod, “I’m fine, Rock, honestly,” that was a lie, you weren’t okay, you spent all night awake thinking about someone who at this point may as well be a fragment of your imagination. 

Rocky tuts, knowing you a little too well to let you lie to her, rustling through the fridge to pull out the orange juice, taking a sip straight out of the carton, “It’s that San guy isn’t it? He’s bothering you?”.

You couldn’t help but look at her stupidly, rolling your eyes in defiance of her accusation, “How can he bother me when I’ve only seen him twi- Once?” you almost spill out the truth that you’ve hidden away from her.

All Rocky knew, was that San saved you from a serious situation, and when you went to thank him, he left you hanging. Of course, you couldn’t tell her that he was there that night when you guys went camping, she’d lose her mind, accusing him of leaving that horrific note. You knew he didn’t leave it there. But oh how wrong you were. He did it to save you and your friend, not only from himself but from his disgustingly merciless blood hungry friends.

“I don’t know... he just seems really weird,” Rocky sighs in response, not even looking at you, just leaning against the table, staring down the orange juice carton in her grasp. 

You couldn’t blame her for thinking that, you thought it yourself. But part of you wants to defend him, the way he saved you from a horrible event, but disappears the next second you want to thank him? You were confused about how to feel when he wasn’t around. Maybe it’s starting to get dangerous that you had the need to be around him, maybe you’ll end up hurt, one way or another. 

Leaving that topic be, Rocky smiles at you, leaving you in the kitchen as she walks out of the room, letting you ponder on the thoughts of San, which you were trying to avoid all morning but that was going so well, wasn’t it?

It’s deemed impossible to erase him from your mind but you were trying to find the best ways of distracting yourself, for now at least. If you could not think about him for an hour or two, you’d be good. 

Determined to get through the rest of the day without San invading your mind, you find yourself back in bed, turning the TV on to find something to watch you didn’t know what came over you, but the urge to suddenly wanted to watch a show about vampires, feeling drawn to it the second you saw the trailer pop up on selection.

It was getting ridiculous how into it you were getting, even considering that San could possibly be a vampire but that’ll be ridiculous right? They don’t exist, it’s all a fantasy taken from a partial truth. There’s no way there are vampires roaming the same earth as you. 

Finding yourself in a rabbit hole of these thoughts, you find it best to turn the programme off, finding something else to watch instead but happily surprised when Rocky comes into your room, insisting on a programme that was a huge must-see in her eyes. 

Spending the day with your best friend, your mind managed to block the idea of San, having too much fun with the show and laughing with Rocky who starts making you laugh by mocking some characters within the show.

The day goes by in a blink of an eye and the stars glitter throughout the night sky, and you couldn’t believe how many episodes of the show you managed to get through, laughing with Rocky when you see the episode number, wondering if you’ve just wasted the whole day. But neither of you could complain, you had a fantastic day, and it was nights like this where you felt the happiest.

Your nightly routine was the same as every night, realising how tired you actually were the second your head crashed against your pillow, knowing that you were definitely going to be able to sleep like a baby.

Well, that’s what you thought.

You swore you were dreaming.

Visions of San standing at the foot of your bed start to worry you as you wake from your so-called dream, looking into the dark room and seeing nothing, rushing to turn the light on and it was just your jacket on the back of your door.

Thinking it was the symptoms of lack of sleep that made you vision him, you try and force yourself back to sleep, however, the night to follow starts to become similar, each time his face getting closer to yours.

One of these nights, you’re woken up by the sound of something shuffling in your room, rushing to turn your phone torch on, flashing it in the direction of San who sits on the floor in front of you. Your heart racing in your chest at the sight of him, unable to scream as your vocals get caught in your throat.

San takes hold of your hand, lowering the phone down to your duvet, making the torch point up towards the ceiling, his eyes connect with yours and all feelings of being scared and worried are erased from your mind within seconds. You have no recollection of being scared in the first place as you sit up in the bed, looking at him with a small smile on both of your faces.

“San- How did you-” you ask, getting caught in your words when he laughs, pointing towards the window, the breeze making the curtains flow against the window. 

“You really need to close that at night, god knows who could end up in your room at the earlier hours of the morning,” he teases, getting to his feet before looking down at you, your eyes following his every move.

“That’s not what I’m most concerned about, how did you know where I lived?” you roll your eyes at him, clicking the button on your bedside lamp to turn off the torch on your phone. 

San rushes to think quickly, he couldn’t admit he’s been practically stalking you, “At the hospital, you had to tell them your address before being seen,” he shrugs, hoping you’d remember doing so.

You didn’t, you’ve never had to do that unless you needed to let the doctors know where you lived if they asked, “I must’ve, that day was all over the place I guess. But what are you doing here?” You asked, his face contorting with confusion to the question as he didn’t even know himself.

“I wanted to check if you were okay...” he sighs, taking a seat next to you on the bed, facing you as you once again roll your eyes and he knows what you want to say to him before you could even say it, “And I wanted to apologise for disappearing. I don’t do good with hospitals”.

You take a moment to let that sit in your mind as he takes your hand, looking into your eyes and letting you relive the moments of fear that you had in your room, finding it would be best if you were scared of him.

Though you don’t let the fear get the best of you, and at this point, you were starting to feel comforted by his presence though you knew you shouldn’t, “Why, why do you keep disappearing?” you build the courage to ask, completely throwing him off.

There’s a moment of silence, San sits there staring at your hand in his, conflicted with emotions as he tries to find the best excuse. He wanted you to hate him, be scared of him, curse him. But you didn’t, you didn’t show an ounce of fear when he allowed you to do so. He can’t hide from you any longer, but he didn’t want to put you in any danger. 

Not moving his gaze from your hand, the warmth of it warming his cold fingers up, he whispers, “It’s safer I stay away from you, but I can’t. I can’t stop thinking of you, wanting to protect you, love you”.

Your eyes widen to the size of plates as your lips depart from each other, a small gasp leaving your body as you realise, he’d been thinking of you the way you’ve been thinking of him. Both are utterly obsessed with each other but with no clue as to how or why. 

But what did he mean by safer? What was he on about? He’s done nothing but be nice to you and he protected you the last time you bumped into each other.

“Safer to stay away from me?” you repeat under your breath, looking at the god-like being in front of you, confused about how he could bring anything other than protection to you. 

San nods, causing you to gasp again, you didn’t even say it loud enough for him to be able to hear, how did he hear it? “It’s safer because I’m not someone you should be around, Y/N”. 

“So what, you’re a murder or something?” you joke, a slight tremor in your hands occurs as you want to hope he wasn’t, just wanting to ease the situation but the gaze you’re greeted with, made your heart sink.

San shakes his head, seeing how scared you were getting, he couldn’t help but lie to you then, he knew he should be honest but there was no way you were going to believe him anyway. He’s a vampire, and those aren’t real in the real world, right?

“I just don’t know if I can stay away from you,”  San smiles, and within seconds of saying this, it was like the universe was bringing you together, your lips attaching, closing the gap between you. 

Things slowly start to get a little heated as your pushed down onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow as he hovers over you, tongues fighting against each other as his lips move from yours, moving across your cheek down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses over your sensitive skin. 

Against his tongue and lips, he could feel the blood pumping through your body, his eyes turning dark as you’re completely and utterly enjoying the moment, your slight moans escaping your lips until a sharp feeling pierces your neck, wincing as he jumps off you with speed to go across the room, facing away from you.

As you clutch your neck, noticing the slight pooling of blood on your fingertips, your heart races, as San licks his fangs, hungry at the taste of you, not knowing if he could hold himself back now. 

“You.... you bit me!” you shouted in a whisper, voice shaking as your hand trembled even more, with getting no response from San who was trying to compose himself.

Hatred for himself boils through his body, eyes softening back to his normal state, turning to see your distress before rushing to the window, barely able to look at you as he apologises quietly before disappearing in the night.

(thank you to my girl, @hipster-shiz​ for always making these awesome gifs for my scenarios!)

 Tags: @scuzmunkie, @ateezreactionsandscenarios, @trashlord-007, @fanfictrashlord-007

#kpop #kpop blog #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez imagines san #choi san #san #ateez vampire!au #ateez san vampire #ateez series #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader #san fanfiction

[offwithhxrhead]

Incorrect Quotes ft. the Liddell-Van Dorts

. thought i'd give this generator a go and i absolutely am so glad i did .

Alice: Hello, I'm Alice. I work at a shop now. Here to help. Look, they gave me a badge with my name on it in case I forget it. Very helpful, as that does happen.

Shapeshifter: *transforms to look like Maddie* Maddie: Okay, are you like BLIND? You look nothing like me. First off, I'm way taller. Secondly, I DO NOT look so sleep deprived and lastly, if you could drag comb through that hair you're like a 7 on a good day and I've been told I'm a constant 10.

Maddie, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

Victor: What can therapy do for me that screaming in my car for 30 minutes can’t?

Alice: If I can't cause tiny bits of chaos every day, I think my body will shut down.

Cop: You ran a red light. Alice: So did you, hypocrite. Cop: I was following you. Alice: That was dumb, I'm a terrible driver. Cop: Get out.

Victor: I've got a weapon, and I'm... admittedly VERY afraid to use it!

Alice: Remember, when burying a body, make sure to cover it with endangered plants so it’s illegal to dig up! Alice: Make sure to follow me for more gardening tips!

Victor: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

Maddie: What, I can’t be in a bad mood? It’s like people think, “Oh, Maddie is such a nice person, Maddie is so happy-go-lucky! Maddie can’t be in a bad mood!” Well, you know what? Maddie CAN be in a bad mood. And right now, Maddie IS be in a bad mood.

Alice: Social distancing says you shouldn't be within an elbow's distance of each other. *later, in a barfight* Alice: Social distancing doesn't say nothing about feet! *kicks opponent in the face*

Victor: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices. Victor: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

Maddie: Well, if you're not at least a little bit gay for your friends, then what kind of friend are you?

Alice: I apologize for saying 'fuck' in front of Maddie. Victor: You just said it again. Maddie: Alice: I am not a role model.

Alice: How long do you reckon it’ll be until Maddie finally snaps and commits murder? Victor: I’ve been going through life assuming it’s already happened at some point and it’s just that no one was ever able to trace it back to her.

Maddie: Victor, Alice, I love y’all and all, but can I ask what in the hell are you doing? Victor, trying to stabilize a tower of folding chairs that Alice is sitting atop: Oh nothing much. Alice: I love you too :)

Alice: Guys where did Maddie go? Victor: She got arrested. Alice: How the hell- Maddie: *bursts in through the window* The cops are after me, I thought it would be fun to steal crackers and throw them at people.

Alice: Maddie, what do you have? Maddie: A KNIFE! Alice: Okay, have fu- Victor: NO!

Maddie: Would you take a bullet for me? Victor: ...yes? *Alice angrily bursts into the room* Maddie: *running away* Great, thanks!

Maddie, washing the dishes: Who the fuck used this pan?? Maddie: Wait. I the fuck used this pan… Victor: It was you the fuck. Maddie: It was I the fuck… Alice: Who cooks rice in a pan? Victor: She the fuck.

Victor: Why would anyone want to harm Maddie? Alice: Maybe because they met her?

Maddie: Mom, that’s disgusting. You’re only giving free stuff to beautiful people. Victor: Yeah, you should be ashamed of yourself. Alice: Oh yeah? *gets really close to Victor* How about a muffin on the house baby? Victor, giggling: I’m pretty.

Victor: You know, it’s fine to admit you were wrong. Maddie: *Sipping their drink after accidentally adding salt* I just like the way it tastes.

Victor: If we lose, you’re out of the will. Maddie: I was in the will?

Victor: Am I right, Maddie? Maddie: I’m almost certain you’re not, but to be fair, I wasn’t listening.

Alice: What situation is not instantly improved by the addition of fishnets, I ask you. Maddie: Being a fish. Alice: Well, shit.

Alice: What the fuck is wrong with you?? Maddie: What? No good morning? Alice: Good morning, what the fuck is wrong with you??

Victor: *chokes on something* Maddie: Jeez, Victor, don't die on us. Victor: Don't tell me what to do, I'll die whenever the hell I want!

Maddie: You know what I’ve realized? Alice: Some thoughts are better left unsaid? Maddie: Nice try, anyways-

Maddie: Help! I’m drowning! Victor: Calm down. We’re only in six feet of water! Maddie: NOT ALL OF US ARE TALL!

Victor: Talk dirty to me, baby~ Alice: The dishes. Victor: Wh- Alice: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times.

Alice: *sees someone doing something stupid* Alice: What an idiot. Alice: *realizes it's Maddie* Alice: Wait, that's MY idiot!

@thevalicemultiverse

#i . 𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖔𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 > . . . 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒𝑟 #. i am having . . . SO MUCH FUN with this generator #. but here are some incorrect quotes !!

[dizzified]

He's a severe hypochondriac and a germaphobe.

British accent.

He is very tall.

Has a medical degree and is a licensed doctor but won't use his skills.

Refuses to help sick and injured people due to his own personal trauma and aversion to germs and illness.

Due to not allowing himself to be exposed to sicknesses, his immune system has weakened over the years, and when he does get sick, it can be life-threatening. 

Has an older sister named Janile, who works as a biochemist. 

Despite being almost 30, he's aged from stress to the point he already has grey hair and looks twice his age. 

Is allergic to dirt.

Ex-boyfriend to Saga Lenvire.

His germaphobia and hypochondria was way less severe before he met him.

Saga would purposely trigger Veirium, 'accidentally' wiping dirt on him, shoving him into mud, handing him dusty, dirty, or otherwise unclean objects, covering him in dust, and using his cloak to clean things before giving it back to him. He also was a manipulative gasligher who loved to make Veirium feel insane, influencing him to do detrimental things before turning around and blaming him for it, claiming that he never told him to do so. He was also someone who made Veirium believe he was constantly ill, driving him to over-medicate and harm himself to try to fix illnesses that weren't there, only for Saga to reprimand him for it.

Saga intentionally made Veirium's entire town sick, instantly pressuring and pushing him to make a cure, behind the guise of being supportive of him and worried for everyone. Behind Veirium's back, he tampered with the cure, before hounding him to release it unfinished, and despite his apprehensions, ultimately ending up in him doing so, which led to the death of the entire town, including Veirium's family outside of his older sister.

Saga ended up leaving Veirium in the aftermath with a note blaming him for everything that had happened, and Veirium swamped with the trauma and guilt of believing he caused the death of everyone in his hometown, refused to use his skills to help anyone medically ever again, out of fear that he'd once again end up killing someone.

The situation left him with not only massive amounts of trauma but his relationship with Saga had caused his hypochondria and germaphobia to become borderline crippling. 

To this day, that guilt still hangs on his shoulders.

Veirium will clean every surface possible, he always carries cleansing supplies with him and despite wearing gloves, won't touch anything unless it's been thoroughly cleaned, and his definition of thoroughly clean means not being able to see a molecule of dust or grime on it. 

He often deprives himself of sleep in favor of compulsively cleaning. 

His eyesight isn't the best, therefore, he wears glasses.

Other than for washing it on a regular basis, Veirium doesn't like taking off his cloak, as he feels safe and protected when wearing it, unless it's dirty. But just in-case, he also wears a mask aswell.

He carries pepper spray for protective reasons, especially because he doesn't like people getting too close to him.

If you cough or sneeze in his presence, he will spontaneously combust. 

He has a habit of taking things way too far when it comes to his health, he's one to resort to drastic measures if he believes he's ill or infected and isn't above trying to cut off his own body parts or cut his body open in general to attempt to remove whatever he believes is ailing him. In his mind, that's the only way to fix things.

Despite having a medical degree and being good at his job when working with other people, when it comes to himself, he throws everything out the window in favor of panicking. Due to his knowledge of medicine, he's quick to just down medication he doesn't need if he believes it's necessary. 

He used to have long hair but ended up cutting it short and slicking it back due to long hair attracting more germs.

He is a complete shut-in and barely goes outside of his house for anything. 

He is often confused for being a plague doctor. 

Like a standard doctor, he has horrible writing abilities, and despite saying it's perfectly legible, it is indeed not. 

#oc lore #oc art #character art #character reference #tw: gaslighting #tw: psychological abuse #tw: toxic relationships #tw: death #tw: abuse #germaphobia #hypochondria #doctor #wolf #animal art #animals #digital art #art #tw: sh mention

[jin0]

Coming Home To You [TASM!Peter Parker]

Summary : Peter always comes home to you. Always. Even when he's technically not supposed to. Because that's not what broken up people do.

Pairing : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warning : Minor DNI, 18+ ONLY, angst, groveling, wounded pete, a lot of flirting and sexual tension, smut, p in v, slight mention if titty worshipping, wounded sex

A/N : merry xmas to all those who celebrate !!! I've been blocking on this for two days but i finally finished it so yeah !!! hope you guys enjoy !!!

again, i didn't proofread so all mistakes and typos are mine !!!

(the teen wolf fans will probably recognize the song 🙈)

Typing frantically on your laptop, you tried to keep your eyes open. They burned, either from the light of the device or from the sleep deprivation, both worked actually. You hared yourself a little more every second for not deciding on a career path that didn’t require less education and homework. Now it was clearly too fucking late to back down, you were already in your second year and your parents and family members were so proud of you ? You couldn’t disappoint them like that by giving up on the way.

As you tried to finish the very last sentences of that annoying essay you had to write, a sound took you out of your thoughts and concentration bubble. Your turned your head slightly towards it but never fully turning. You were hidden well enough by the closet besides the window and that gave you the possibility to hide yourself. If it was a burglar, faking ignorance would probably save your life. Now, you were pretty sure it wasn’t a burglar, not on the twelfth floor of your apartment building at 3:37 in the morning.

Hearing the sound of something banging against your window, you exhaled, already feeling exhausted by the possible encounter.

“Come on… Please… Please gorgeous… Please baby… Let me in…” Begged the man outside.

You would recognize this voice in-between millions and that idea just made your heart hurt. This wasn’t the moment for you to deal with this. Not when it still hurt you that much to have him around. You heard him sigh and thought he was leaving you in peace but instead the rattling sound of your window followed.

You spun around in your rolling chair and watched in absolutely shock as he opened the window and let himself in. Your anger of the moment was quickly replaced by terror and worry when you noticed the deep wounds covering his chest. Still in his suit, three enormous slashing marks covered his torso, blood still dripping out of them. They were fresh, he probably came by directly.

You rushed to his aid, helping him climb in a gentler way than he was doing. The man was practically throwing his entire body on your floor. You wrapped one if his arm over your shoulders and helped him walk towards the seat in your room. You exhaled, eyes trembling and watery, observing him with anger and sadness. He would end up dead in front of your window one day and you couldn’t handle that.

Looking up at you with pleading eyes, he breathed heavily, trying to gather a little bit of energy and oxygen back into his body. Right after the fight with a psycho owning a whip which happened to also have blades, he had swung directly towards your apartment. He needed to see you, craved your presence around his. It was unbearable to go back to his apartment and May was definitely out of the picture.

“Come one beautiful… Don’t look at me like that… I can’t handle it…” He whined in pain, both internally and externally.

Watching you carefully, he could see through you like an open book. You weren’t just angry at him for being here, you were terrified and he hated himself for doing this to you. You were his everything and making you feel pain was the last thing he wanted but that was very ironic to think considering the current state if your relationship.

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your forehead. You had to gather your thoughts, compose yourself and get to work. God, you were lucky you had like two phrases left to write on your paper and they were generally useless, just for show honestly. You were definitely not going to be going back to work tonight.

Going to your bathroom, you gathered the essential things you would need to fix him up before going back to him. You should’ve thrown all of this away but you didn’t, you couldn’t. Not when you stayed awake at night waiting for him to leave your window. You should’ve told him to stop but you couldn’t. There were so many things you couldn’t do lately and all had to do with him. He made you feel so much that now you were left with nothing.

You sat down on the seat, trying to take the least amount of space and not touch him. He was still staring at your every move and probably got that you were trying to avoid physical contact. He hated this. You should’ve never felt this way, been pushed this far. He forced you in this tony corner, away from him and that was ten times more painful than the wounds on his chest.

He’d been thinking about you so much lately. You probably knew that he spent hours watching you sleep by the window. He couldn’t sleep anyways and when you overworked yourself fighting crime, the criminals did end up disappearing. There wasn’t much to fight anymore, just swinging around m, desperately looking for something to prevent him from running to your apartment to beg for you to be with him again.

He couldn’t bear the feeling of his own bedsheets anymore, freezing and unfamiliar. They felt like they belonged to someone else, like he was sleeping in someone else’s bed and that was partially true. You had made his bed yours, his sheets too, his entire apartment was yours and so was he. Everything he was, was yours and he had been stripped off of it.

He couldn’t do this anymore, this life of lurking around you, sleeping on the floor with the shirts of his you had worn and given back. It had been two whole month and he was running out if things that smelled like you but he still had his memory to save him, a reminder of the feeling of your skin on these pieces of fabric. He had never felt so lucky for the enhanced senses, everything in him being able to vividly remember the feeling of you and your body heat in his arms. All that was still so fresh in his mind but he was greedy and needed the real thing. He was craving you, begging for you to be brought back to him.

He groaned in pain, violently brought back to reality and out of his daydreams but his eyes still focused on your beautiful face. He would never get tired of seeing you.

“Sorry…” You muttered softly, rubbing the wet cloth over his wound.

“Don’t be…” He responded, tone just as soft as your.

Stopping your movements to stare at him back, you were lost in his eyes. He always complained about them being boring but you loved them. They had been your favorite feature of his and now you just felt nauseous looking at them.

Reaching up to hold your face, he slid his fingers softly all around your skin. You felt tingles run down your spine and your entire body as he took hold of your chin delicately. He was looking at you, pleading with you, begging once again, for you to let him in. Not your apartment but in you, your soul, your heart.

“Please… Please baby, look at me… Please… Don’t push me away…” He begged, nearing closer and closer to you.

The simple view of your lips made him dizzy with want (or blood lose). He needed to taste them, taste you. He needed a little bit, just a little bot to keep going. He was desperate.

You started shaking your head slowly, fighting off tears and your own annoying feelings. You couldn’t let him in, not that easily, not like that, not now. Closing your eyes and turning your face away from him, you refused to cave. Not now, not after what happened.

You stood up abruptly, turning around and forcing him to be faced by your back. He couldn’t see and hear you, breathing heavily and frantically wiping your eyes with your shirt. He, himself, was fighting back tears looking down on his chest with a sad smile.

“Why did you come here Peter ?” You queried, looking through the window. He could see the reflection of your face, you were crying heavier tears each second. All because of him. He couldn’t let this go on. He needed to do something, he needed to fix the both if you, no matter what. Or at least make sure that you weren’t crying because of him ever again.

He stood up, wincing loudly, which pulled a reaction out of you. You spun around, rushing to force him back down on the seat which made him chuckle. Even in a situation like this you cared about his wellbeing.

“P-Please whatever you’re about to say… Say it from here, seating down and not fucking up your wounds further.” You pleaded, taking back the wet rag and the other necessary supplies.

“Okay… I’ll stay still for you buttercup.” He chuckled, watching you glare at him. You constantly said you hated the nickname but he knew better.

And he was right, you loved it. It made you feel at peace for some reason. You had missed hearing it all the time now.

Watching you with big doe eyes as you covered his chest in bandages, he reached for you once more. He delicately cupped your cheek and raised himself slightly to bring himself closer to you. This time you didn’t reject him, simply chuckling but also closing your eyes in anticipation. You felt his breath on your face, his lips kissing your cheeks tenderly before going to the tip of your nose and then bending his neck to reach your lips.

He was hesitating, not because he didn’t want to kiss you, god he wanted this and only this. He’d been wanting this from the moment you walked out the door, hitting himself in the chest repeatedly and cursing himself for staying still as you walked out of his apartment. He wanted to run to you, spin you in his arms and keep you close against his chest as he kissed your soft, plump lips repeatedly telling you that he was sorry, he didn’t mean it, he loved you and he wanted you to stay with him for ever. He had dreamt of it but was always brutally brought back to reality by his alarm. Hell, he ended up smacking it with his fist and instantly regretted it when he remembered you had bought it for him. He had spent the morning crying with the shattered debris of his broken alarm before deciding that he would rebuild it with the help of his memory, pictures of the both of you that featured it in the back and web fluid.

What he had been hesitant about was the moment you would reject him, push him away. He had been waiting, expecting you to, he deserved it after all. To be pushed away further, kissed by the freezing rejection instead. He would’ve deserved it, after the pain he caused the both of you. He wanted you to reject him, as punition for being a moron. Except you didn’t want that, you didn’t reject him, you even come towards him, soft smile on your lips. Oh, he had missed it, your beautiful smile, real and directed at him.

His kips puckered, reaching towards yours and grazed your skin before fully pushing his face against yours. It was light, so light he was pretty sure he had dreamt it or at least hallucinated it. He was breathing in your scent, eager to keep peppering light kisses against your lips.

He left himself be guided, practically controlled by your movements. What you chose to do he would follow, so when you pushed yourself in his direction, making sure that he laid on the arm of the seat again, he didn’t fight back.

Detaching your soft lips from his, you let your fingers slide down his chest softly, chuckling when he tried to reach for one more kiss. He just wanted one more, needed it even. You laid your hand flat on his stomach, successfully avoiding the open wounds, to settle him.

“Easy there, bug boy…” You chuckled against his lips.

He should’ve been embarrassed about the effect the nickname had on him. He instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist to bring your closer to him and he was very pleased when you didn’t resist.

“Fuck… That nickname… I missed it so much…” He muttered, holding your cheek close to his face and kissing the corner of your mouth tenderly.

Peter had always been really needy for you, always finding a way to touch you. He had to have his hands on you or he would be terrible to everyone around. You didn’t even want to mention how feral he would get when fucking you. You often ended up begging for five minutes of rest at least.

Pushing himself up, he felt like he was repeating a never ending cycle : pushing himself towards you, desperate for your touch, suffering from the lack of it while trying to be as docile for you. He knew how much impact you had on him, it even scared him sometimes. Being this in love for you, it was terrifying and it did make him make bad decisions. The main one in his mind was the one that had created the situation you were both in currently.

“Peter… You can’t… We can’t…” You said, words slurred and muffled by his lips. You couldn’t cave m, not now, not like this. You wanted explanations first and honesty too.

“I know… I know baby… Fuck… I know, I’m trying… But I just… I need one more kiss… Just one more… One last…” He begged, rubbing his nose against yours. His eyes were looking down on your mouth and he was trying to contain himself as you bit your lips, trapping them behind your teeth. He wanted to do that, fuck, he needed to do that. Bite them, suck them, all just for you.

“Come on Pete… We both know that one last will never be one last, not for real at least…” You were amused by his lying, you both knew better.

“Yeah, I know… I always come back to you… Always needy for you… You… And only you…” He said, voice low and deep, filled with a craving sensation. He was keeping his hands nice around your waist but he wanted to keep them roaming on your body.

“If you always come back to me Pete… Why did you break up with me then ?” You asked softly.

He had been expecting this question or at least for you to say something that would give him an opportunity to talk, explain his reasoning and the goal behind his actions. He needed to tell you the whole truth, he couldn’t go on any longer.

Pulling away from you with teary eyes, he grabbed your face in both his hands, kissing your forehead and cheeks repeatedly.

“I know baby… I know I fucked up… Fuck, I can’t ever forgive myself for this princess…” Taking a long pause to breath in and compose himself, he backed up from you, putting on distance between both your bodies. “I-I just can’t… The hold you have on me… The power you have on me, buttercup… Fuck… It terrifies me… Because if it came down to it, I would risk it all for you. Even if it meant putting the rest of the world in danger in the process. I’m scared of the person I’ll become if you life or happiness is on the line…” He revealed, a soft yet sad smile stretching his lips. He wasn’t looking at you anymore but far off in the distance, probably zoning out.

Taking a big breath, you wiped the tears off of your face and repositioned yourself in his hold and on the seat.

“If… If it’s so dangerous for me to be around you… Why do you keep coming back here ? Why do you show up at my window at least once a night ? Why don’t you just… stay away, Peter ?” You questioned, voice as steady as you could make it.

When he laughed, you felt slightly stupid about your question but then you remembered who this was. This was Peter, his reactions were surprising but he would never make fun in a serious conversation. Not this one at least.

“You say that like it’s the easiest thing ever… Staying away from you…” He chuckles, looking into your eyes deeply. His hand had slid under your shirt to caress the skin of your waist. “I couldn’t do it when we were together… And I definitely can’t do it now… You’re… You’re pulling me towards you without even knowing it... Every time I try, I end up right back where it started. I end here, hanging on your window like a fucking idiot, hoping I could erase this stupid conversation and idea out of your mind. What fuck ass idea was this anyways ? Breaking up to protect you ? Please, I’m not protecting anyone without you around… Not even myself.” He joked, pulling you even closer to him and laying his forehead on your shoulder.

You stayed silent, letting him find comfort and peace against you. Truthfully, you had needed him just as much as he said he needed you. Everything you did, you would think about him and it would end up in a stupid fight between you and yourself. A part of you wanted to move on, out of spite, and the other wanted to wait, to give the both of you time to hope and calm down. At the end, both had won in a way, you weren’t necessarily welcoming him in your life that easily but you were also not rejecting him or his love.

“Pete… If you weren’t injured I would kick your fucking ass for thinking this kinds of shit.” You exhaled, throwing him a pointed look. He turned his head to see your eyes and chuckled against your skin, gripping you tighter in his arms. “Like, you were scared and just decided to push me away ? Instead of talking to me about it ? Because breaking up was such a genius idea huh ? And what did you think you would become if I was in danger ? Jeffrey fucking Dahmer ? Please Peter, the worst thing you did to a literal lizard trying to turn the whole town into lizards was cure him.” You spat sarcastically, still glaring at him, his face buried in your neck.

“Talking wouldn’t be doing much about the situation, beautiful. It would probably make me even more in love but let’s not get into that right now…” He responded, breathing in your scent and rubbing his nose against your neck. “I think we can both agree that I’m simply not the best at making decisions… I’m not the most rational guy there is… And I do tend to let fear drive me sometimes…”

“Yeah, we noticed.”

A comfortable silence settled in the room. This was the first time in a while that you both felt at peace in silence. Usually, you felt like the emptiness and lack of noise in the room was suffocating you, a glaring reminder that something was missing. To fill it you would play music, but music could only do so much in comparison to the soft voice of the man you wanted. You had missed him tremendously and only now were you fully confronting that fact. Your heart, which had been in this violent state of constant destruction and pain, was finally settling. You wanted to laugh, he was scared of the power you had on him, he would be surprised to find out about the power he had on you.

You were pulled out lf your thoughts by his large hand wrapping itself around the back of your neck, squeezing it a little bit and pulling you towards his face. Only now did you resist, wanting to give in more than anything, kissing him tenderly like you used to. You wanted to and he knew it, better than anyone.

“No… Peter…” You breathed out softly, a smile on your face.

“Yes… Please… Yes…” Responded the boy, still longing desperately for you and the softness of your lips. He was pecking your lips more and more feverishly, feeling that you were loosing this battle against yourself when you grabbed his other hand.

“No…”

“Yes…”

“No…”

“Yes…”

This little back and forth did not last long, his tongue already licking your lips and tacking the opportunity you gave him by parting your lips to moan his name, desperately. When you felt it slide in your mouth, you fully closed your eyes, letting the pleasure take over. His lips, warm and tasting as sweet as honey were wrapping themselves around your, swallowing eagerly, each and every and everyone of the sounds you would make. He had needed these, praying to everything out there to let him dream of you so that he could remember better, more vividly. He had needed you, the feeling of your skin against his, your scent on him, drowning his senses and filling his brain with thoughts of you only.

You nose, rubbing against his face, you pulled away slowly, smiling even more when he whined for more, constantly following you as you tried to detach your lips from his. Inhaling his scent, you felt at home with him so close to you. He was always coming back to you, and you would always come back to him.

“You can’t do that Peter… You can’t keep coming here knowing that you and I aren’t together anymore… We can’t keep doing this… It’s not how broken up people are supposed to act and you know it…” You said, trying your best to sound stern and severe when truly you didn’t mean any of the words you said.

“I can’t beautiful… I can’t stay away… I can’t move on, I won’t. I don’t want to…You have my whole heart in your hands and I can’t just take it back you know ? It’s rude to take a gift back. And I was raised to be polite.” He responded with a teasing tone that you knew like the back of your hand

He wasn’t just saying that he couldn’t take back his heart, he was begging you not to force him to do so. He wouldn’t survive taking it back, even if it was in perfect state, filled with good memories and love, he couldn’t take it back. Because he would crush it himself to make sure he would never love again after you. And Peter had a certain talent when it came to defying Destiny.

“Hey, look at me.” He raised himself, seating up fully and grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you up on his lap. You knew better than fight back, he wouldn’t mind injuring himself further to have you close to him. This man was an absolute danger to his own safety, an absolute terror.

“I love you princess, and I’d rather fall off a building and let myself crash than let you go that easily. I’ll spend as long as it takes, fighting to be yours again. Or at least officially, I’ve never stopped being yours anyways.” He declared, a grin on his handsome face. God you hated him and his stupid grin that made your heart beat so fast you felt like the motor of a fucking race car.

You exhaled shakily when you felt his lips against the base of your neck. Kissing tenderly on your soft skin, he started sucking and biting when you moved your face out of the way to give him more space. How could you resist him when you had craved him so badly ? You couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. So you didn’t.

“Peter…” You muttered, slowly rolling your hips on him.

He gripped you waist tighter, as if you would run away if he didn’t. He couldn’t let you go, not like that. You were his world, the drive he needed to keep waking up every day, the motivation behind his spider activities, everything he did led him back to you. He even found himself thinking about a family and the life you could live together and that, that killed him. Every moment spent thinking about it was a new reason to fight for you and your love. His heart was already yours, beating more and more for the woman he dreamt of calling his wife one day. Yeah, he would fight for you.

“I’m sorry buttercup… I love you… So, so, so much…” He repeated, his lips traveling around the skin of your shoulders and neck. You knew he was waiting for you to stop him, keeping himself focused and controlled to not lose it on you. You scent and the warmth produced by your body were intoxicating, but your little moans as he kissed sensitive points of you body were drugs he refused to let go of. You were his drug and if getting clean meant living without you, then he refused to do so.

You slid your hand over his large back, reaching all the way up to his nape and playing with his hair in an attempt to calm the rapidly disappearing control he had over himself.

“Peter, look at me baby…” His eyes snapped towards yours, entirely focused on you by the second you called his name. He tried to keep in a whine when you called him by this pet name he could never get enough of. “I love you too Pete, but you have to promise that next time you feel scared about us and what could possibly happen, you’ll talk to me. These are the stuff we deal with as a couple, not just you carrying everything on your back. Let me help you, not just because that’s my duty as your girlfriend, but because I fucking love you and that’s the only thing I want to do.” You smiled through teary eyes.

Poor Peter, he couldn’t hold it anymore. He had kept in so much tears in the last days, so much feelings that he refused to share, express with anyone because the only person he wanted to do that with was you. He couldn’t help but cry in silence, burying himself in your arms and muttering your name repeatedly. You chuckled against his forehead, kissing him tenderly and rubbing his back to call him down. You would have a lot of things to discuss, most concerning his tendencies to take on everything on his own. All that you would discuss it, later. For now, you just needed each other and you wouldn’t miss anymore second to be there for the other. Two months had been long enough.

~

The moment both your tears stopped, his lips were already on your, crashing against your and kissing you so passionately, you both felt dizzy from it. You had tried to get him to love less to not worsen his wounds but he wouldn’t have it, not until he was sure to have tasted you well enough. He needed to have the taste of your skin carved on his skin, he couldn’t imagine going on another period of time without it. His lips roaming your body and biting onto as much space possible to leave marks on you, you didn’t keep in any of your sounds. He would make sure you couldn’t anyways but you would do it. You had missed the feeling of him on you, his hands gripping your body parts and striping you naked under him, you had missed it all so much.

Hands tightly wrapped around your waist, he kissed stifled a laugh against your jawline when you cussed him out once more for abandoning you for two months. He internally started making a little list of all the things he would do to make it up to you. He would spoil you rotten, for as long as you’d allow him, not just to fix his mistake, but because he wanted you to have everything you deserved and beyond.

“I’m sorry baby, I’ll never leave you again. I promise…” He promised, lips attached to your ear and sharing every sound he made because of you.

Every groan, moan and curses coming out of his mouth, you heard and each one made you sink further in this endless pit people called love. You were done for, it was official. Peter was officially everything you needed right now and you were comfortable with the life you had decided to live.

You sung his name like a mantra when his fingers parted your folds and lapped at your core, pulling violent orgasms out of you. His own throbbing cock didn’t matter at all when he could be satisfied by pleasing you. The pleasure, so high and violent that you had been crying in pleasure, his name never leaving your lips once. It was all you knew, all you cared for, all you wanted.

Looking up at your beautiful face contorted in pleasure, he was never satisfied, never getting enough of you and the taste of you. Your sweet juices pooling in his mouth and drowning his every senses, he couldn’t stop. Or simply didn’t want to. He would spend his life between your legs if you allowed him.

“Come on princess, I know you’ve got one left for me… Just one more okay ? For me ?” He pleaded, biting your sensitive inner thighs and enjoying the little whimpers coming out of your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from cumming, unable to handle another violent orgasm like the previous ones.

The moment he entered you, girth throbbing and desperate to be held tightly in your warm heat, he felt like passing out. He had stopped bleeding a while ago and felt his wounds heal rapidly. This had simply cemented the fact that you made his world spin so fast, he lived in a constant state of dizziness.

You felt so familiar and real, he couldn’t believe that he had ever lied to himself this blatantly when saying that dreaming of you would be enough. Nothing was enough compared to you, not even dreams of you. The feeling of your skin, warm and sweat covered against his was unmatchable. And nothing would ever be able to make him feel like he felt with your velvety walls wrapped around him so tightly he could suffocate. He had missed you so much, he could cum from this alone.

“F-Fuck, princess… I-I can’t… Fuck… I missed you so fucking much…” He groaned, voice strained from trying to sound as stable as possible.

You on the other hand didn’t feel much different. You had missed every part of him but feeling his pulsating cock in you spread this burning feeling all through your body. This lava like sensation was a violent reminder of how much this man could do to you. He could tear your world down and rebuild it as much as he wanted, you would let him do anything he wanted to you.

Holding your thighs apart and biting on the swell of your breast desperately, his hips drove into your pussy, spreading you open further and further around him. His entire body was covering yours, god he was so fucking tall, you could only see him. Your hands were spread over his back, nails gripping tight in his skin and leaving deep red marks on the way. Your moans echoed in the room and his head, you sounded like an angel, a goddess even, one that he would worship for the rest of eternity and never get tired of it. He had missed you so much, everything about him was screaming in joy to have you again.

Fuck, anyone should be checked in a mental institution for loving someone else that much, loving them enough to completely disregarding their own safety. He should probably tell you about the rookie mistakes he made in fights because he would see things that reminded him of you. Today had been one, he had seen a cat and remembered how you mentioned wanting to adopt a cat with him. You’d name it Spider Kitty, he thought the idea was absolutely genius.

He kept your tits, heavy and supple in his mouth, sucking onto you vigorously and letting the vibrations of his groans and moans get muffled by your skin. You yourself couldn’t hold your sounds anymore and he didn’t want you to, but the vision of your fucked out state, drooling and biting onto the bedsheets that you gripped so tight, you tore it up, was too beautiful to pass up on.

“Look at me gorgeous… I want you to see how much cum I put in you… I want you all filled up with me… Keeping it all deep in you, it’s all yours… All of me is yours…” He moaned, plowing into your wet cunt deeply.

The only sounds heard now were only your cries of pleasure and the sound obscene sounds of your skins slapping against each other. Both of you, desperate for each other, did not stop until the early rays of sunshiny started showing. Both spent but happier than ever before, laid comfortably in the arms of the other. Your head rested on his chest with your body nuzzling to his side, your leg perched on top of his. One of his arm held you tightly while the other drew shapes over your naked body, roaming from you ribs to your belly and descending to your thigh. He was watching you carefully, loving the feeling he was basking in, comfort, peace, love. He had never felt so lost before but your absence had scared him in a way he refused to live again.

He kissed your forehead tenderly, smiling when you scrunched your nose in your sleep. Even in your sleep, you were so gentle with him, laying your fingers softly on his wounded chest. He let out a heavy sigh, not one of exhaustion but of happiness. He was at ease and so were you. He fell asleep a few minutes later, lips still pressed against the crown of your head.

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[ilici]

bfb.

Summary: You grew up with Dream and Drista your whole life, but as you got older you soon realized your feelings towards Dream. (You are 19 in this and the reader is female for the plot)

MINORS DNI

Warnings: oral fixation, dumbification, choking

Word Count: 2234

Sighing, Y/N looked at Drista then towards her tv, “Hey Drista?” Y/N asked, gaining Drista’s attention.”Yeah Y/N?” She asked, looking over at her best friend, “Does it bother you that your best friend is like 6 years older than you?” They asked, and Drista frowned once she heard the words. “No I like it a lot, I grew up with you and saw you as an older sister to me. You are always there for me, and you can even pick me up early from school so that’s a bonus.” Drista laughed as the last part left her mouth, which caused Y/N to softly punch her arm. “Can I ask you something and you not laugh at me?” Y/N asked, and Drista made a noise, shifting around so that they could face one another.

Y/N took in a deep breath, and looked at the younger girl, “I've known you and Dream all my life, but around the age of 17 I started to realize my feelings for Dream were a bit different.” She explained, stumbling over her words a bit scared of how Drista would react. “I know, I can tell by the way you look at him.” Drista explained, which made Y/N relax a bit, “Is it that obvious?” She asked worriedly, and Drista shrugged, “Maybe to me, but boys tend to be oblivious.” Once the words left her mouth, Drista gasped, “This is like that episode of Victorious!” She said excitedly, and Y/N furrowed her eyebrows throwing her a confused look. “You know the song BFB?” 

Y/N slowly nodded her head, and Drista groaned, “You’re about as dumb as a pig.” She complained, “BFB means best friends brother.” She said, making exaggerated hand movements. “Oh yeah.” Y/N laughed, and softly pushed Drista, “I swear you are a nerd.” She said, causing the younger to giggle. Shaking her head, she got up, “You have school tomorrow, so you need to sleep. It’s two hours past your bedtime. Your mom would kill me for letting you stay awake this late.” Y/N said, and Drista pouted, “Fine.” She said giving up, “I’m going to go take a shower, and I’ll be back. I will try not to wake you if you are asleep by the time I get back.” 

Nodding her head, Drista switched the movie over to Princess and the Frog, turning her lamp off on her bedside table. Y/N walked over and grabbed a pair of clothes from her closet as she practically lived there. Walking out, she mumbled a ‘goodnight’ to Drista as she turned around she slowly made her way to the bathroom. Putting her clothes in the bathroom, she walked downstairs into the kitchen to get a glass of water. “Thirsty?” A voice spoke up making Y/N yelp and jump. “Holy shit Dream. You scared me you dick head.” She mumbled shoving him, as he was leaning against the counter. “Why were you even standing in the dark you weirdo.” Y/N said, getting a glass cup, getting some water. 

Dream watched her movements, and he shrugged to himself, “I have this kitchen memorized like the back of my hand. There’s no need to turn on the light.” He explained, and Y/N was now facing the sink, finishing up her glass of water. “I suppose that’s true.” She said nodding her head, pouring the rest of the remaining water out and put the glass in the sink. As she was about to turn around, she felt his body against her backside. Gulping she kept her eyes glued to the window where she could somewhat see their reflection. “Don’t you want somebody to love?” He whispered, moving Y/N hair over her shoulder as he wrapped his fingers around her throat.

Freezing, Y/N felt herself melt at the gesture, her eyes locked with Dream’s reflection on the window, the only light source being the light above the sink. “What makes you think that?” She asked, trying to keep her voice at a confident tone. Dream chuckled, leaving one hand around her throat, while his free hand reached up grabbing a handful of her hair pulling it back roughly so her head was leaning back. Wincing slightly, she bit her bottom lip not allowing herself to make a sound. “So you’re telling me..” He whispered, leaning down so his lips were right next to her ear.

“You don't want me to just fuck you senseless right here, right now?” He asked, and Y/N felt her entire face flush. “What are you saying right now?” She asked embarrassed, and Dream chuckled darkly, tightening his grip around her neck before he let go, and released the grip on her hair. “You’ll see with time princess.” He whispered ghosting his lips over her exposed neck, which caused a shiver to go down her spine. She finally let a whimper escape, “Dream..” She whispered and turned around to see he had left already. Soon it hit her like a brick, she blushed madly and her heart raced.

“What the fuck just happened..” She mumbled, steadying herself on the counter. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she moved her hand up to touch her neck, where his hand once was. Groaning, she shook her head, “Fuck you for messing with me.” She said, frustrated by confusion and touch deprivation. Walking up and into the bathroom, she started the shower and slowly stripped of her clothes. Getting inside the shower, her body relaxed as the heat consumed her. Letting out a content sigh, her eyes shot open when she heard someone enter the bathroom.

“Dri?” She asked, not daring to look out in case she would lock eyes with the green eyed boy she once saw in the kitchen. “Yeah?” The voice of Drista spoke up, letting out a sigh of relief she relaxed instantly, “What are you doing?” She asked and Drista cleared her throat, “I overheard Dream talking to who I assume was George and Sapnap. But he said that you and him had an interaction in the kitchen.” Drista said, and Y/N instantly tensed up at the reasoning. “What did you hear?” She asked, and Drista shrugged even though Y/N could not see her, “Something about you and him bumping into one another.” She said, and Y/N was thankful Dream didn’t go into detail with his friends.

“Well I am going to bed now.” Drista said, walking out, “Oh hey Dream.” Y/N heard as the door was being shut, Y/N couldn’t help but feel on edge. Her body was craving for Dream to touch her like that again, but she refused to believe it. Hearing the bathroom door open again, this time the culprit tried to make it as quiet as possible. “Having a nice shower princess?” His voice ricocheted off the walls of the shower, and into her ears. Shivering even though her body was under scalding hot water, she looked over his outline visible through the shower curtain. “What are you doing in here?” She asked, her voice wavering a bit from both excitement and fear. 

“I also needed a shower, and I figured why not save water?” He said, alarmingly calm. As soon as the words registered through her brain, the shower curtain opened. This wasn’t the first time Dream and Y/N were close to having sex it almost happened when he was 20 and Y/N was 18. They had gotten into an argument which led to a heated makeout session, which they both agreed to forget. “Dream!” Y/N shrieked when she saw his body come into view. Her entire body froze, as her eyes just took in his bare body. “Like the view? It’s not the first time you’ve seen it. Or the second, or third.” He said, grabbing her hips pulling her towards him. 

Yeah they’ve made out and saw each other naked multiple times, some accidental. But never did she think this would be happening, “I will not touch you, or anything without your permission princess.” He whispered into her ear, and Y/N felt her insides melt at his words. She wanted this, she has for quite a while. Dream has too. But he had patience, but he was no longer patient once he overheard their conversation about him earlier when he was on his way to the kitchen. “Please Dream.” Y/N spoke up, knocking Dream out of his trance, and a smirk found its way onto his features. “As you wish.”

Turning her around he shoved her onto the shower wall, and she leaned against it for support. “Your safe word is Dove.” He said slowly, as his hands trailed over her wet body. He moved over a bit, so the water could hit him as well. “I will then ask for your color. Green means keep going after a short break, and red means stop completely, okay?” He explained, and Y/N nodded her head. He slowly and teasingly trailed a hand up, and wrapped his hand back around her throat, “Will you be a good girl and keep quiet?” He said in her ear, and Y/N nodded her head, “Yes sir.” She said, and Dream growled at the name. “Good girl.” He said, and slowly he used his free hand to finger her so she could be prepared. 

Moving the hand up, he tapped her lips as he inserted two fingers into her mouth, “Suck.” He ordered, and Y/N happily obliged since she loved to have things in her mouth she could chew or suck on. Sucking on his fingers, he slowly removed them from her mouth. Moving his hand back down, the other hand still wrapped around her throat. Slowly he inserted one finger, and she let out a quiet moan as she bit her lip. Slowly he started moving his finger in and out, loving the way her body reacted to it. She wasn’t a virgin, she had lost it when she was 17 with some random guy at a party. Picking up the pace, he slowly inserted another finger, and she bit her bottom lip to hold back the moan.

Picking up the pace of his fingers, he started to curl his fingers searching for the certain spot. Y/N accidentally let out a loud moan when he hit a spot that sent pleasure everywhere throughout her body. Dream smirked once he knew he had found it, “Quieter princess.” He warned, and she nodded her head leaning it against the wall. Thrusting his fingers quickly, making sure he repeatedly hit that spot, she found herself growing close to her climax. Dream noticed this by the way her legs started to shake, and he slowly pulled his fingers out. He licked them clean, and she whined at the loss of pleasure. Smirking, he grabbed his dick aligning it to her entrance. 

Slowly he inserted the tip, and kept going until he bottomed out. Y/N winced from how big he was, “Fuck..” She whispered, in both pain and pleasure, “Please move.” She begged, and Dream knew she wouldn't be able to keep quiet by how she reacted when he entered her. Moving his free hand up, he forced his fingers into her mouth, instantly letting them go to the back of her throat. She gagged around his fingers, as he started pounding into her. Letting out choked moans on his fingers, she felt tears rolling down her face. It was mixed with the water from the shower head, on her left side and her tears. Dream picked up the pace, pulling her body back against him so he could see her fucked out face. Groaning once he saw the tears, and her crossed eyes, he moved his hand from her throat down to play with her clit.

Getting overwhelmed with the sensation she felt herself grow close again, Dream on the other hand didn’t care if she made noises now. He wanted to hear her, he quickly pulled his fingers out of her mouth and held her steady by her hip with his other hand. Y/N felt herself cum on his dick, and Dream felt her clench around him making him hiss at the feeling. He kept pounding into her, making her grow overstimulated. Screaming out, she grabbed his wrist that led to the hand that was toying with her clit. Digging her nails into his wrist, her eyes rolled back and she started babbling out incoherent words, “Is my princess fucked dumb? Is my dick so good that she can’t talk?” He cooed, feeling himself growing closer. Y/N nodded her head, moans and blabbering was the only thing she could let out. Pulling out quickly, he felt himself cum on her ass and some on her lower back. Groaning he leaned his head back and bit his bottom lip. The water was now getting cold, so he quickly cleaned her up and washed her hair, and body before he got out drying her off as she was clearly out of it.

Dressing her, he himself quickly got dressed carrying her to his room. Laying her down, he laid beside of her and wrapped an arm around her waist, kissing her neck softly. “Goodnight princess.” He whispered, and Y/N tiredly mumbled it back.

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt smut #mcyt fanfiction #dreamwastaken #dream x reader #dreamsmp #dreamwastaken smut

[flowerwrites06]

thinning thread — jjk

Plot: In the heat of a tumultuous rough path in their marriage, Jungkook is handed their last resort. 

Pairing(s): Jungkook x Writer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 2k+

Genre: Marriage!AU 

Tags & Warnings: angst, rough marriage, divorce, explicit smut 

Authors Note: sorry the reposting has been a little slow, everyone! the end of feb was a little rough but I’ll try to get the fics out as soon as I can. 

ALSO requests are currently open and they’ll close on Sunday! So be sure to fill the request form HERE

Days turned to, weeks turned to months the blanket of home they knitted together now stripped to nothing but a pathetic string. Both of them dangling and swinging on it pretending that the world around them didn’t just crumble beneath their feet. It started with regular fights over the lack of time they spent together; the usual reason most couple would go through a lovers’ spat. Then fights were followed with silent treatments lasting days on end to point where one of them would be out of the house completely.

Paranoia kicked in soon afterwards as Jungkook saw Belle chatting with one of her clients leading to yet another exhausting argument about her supposedly cheating. Jungkook left home that night for three days until he came back without saying a word. Belle spent more nights in her office using a glass of wine to loosen herself up and get some sleep while writing herself to near madness.

Her publishing company even asked her if she was okay after her latest manuscript submission stating it had a lot more disturbing themes than her usual works. Belle simply stated that things changed. Happiness wasn’t a fucking commonality anymore and the themes she wrote now seemed more realistic.

Jungkook spent hours in the gym, punching bags until the skin on his knuckles ripped apart breaking himself down enough to get some damn shut eye. He was getting a lot more complaints from his producers these days saying he had too much of a short fuse nowadays. Which, to prove their point, he ended up snapping and earned himself a break away from sending in anymore songs until he got himself sorted.

Swinging and swinging on this thinning thread, it all dwindled down into one night.

Instead of going back to her office for the night, Belle paid a visit to her lawyer about a set of paperwork that she needed organized. Thankfully the name she made for herself allowed the time to finish all these documents were significantly lessened. The next day after making her request she was able to have the papers in her hand.

-

As she walked into the apartment the woman realized how long it had been since she walked into their home at this hour. The twilight sky looked like a painting through the large panned windows, creating a beautiful silhouette of the city buildings. For a moment Belle could have smiled until she heard chain clanging and something thudding.

Jungkook began his attack on what could have been his fifteenth punching bag this fortnight, not caring about the world around him.

She sighed, placing her bag on the kitchen counter before stomping over to the man with her brown envelope in hand. “I need to talk to you.” Belle announced trying to sound louder than the punching bag thudding and clanging.

The man gave the bag one harsh punch before letting out a deep sigh, a droplet of sweat . “I’m not in the mood.” He mumbled immediately causing a rush of fury in her belly.

Belle tightened her jaw her whole body urging to just throw the papers on the floor until he sees it. But she took a long, drawling breath as she walked closer to the male who proceeded to assault his punching bag. “This is important.” She spoke firmly. “Just listen to me for one second.” She pursed her lips when Jungkook finally held onto the punching bag to pause for a moment.

Though the male still glared at her a little making her heart drop.

She remembered when he used to look at her with eyes soft and sparkling. Now all she felt was hate radiating from him. Belle handed the envelope over which he accepted, ripping off the top carelessly before pulling out the papers.

Jungkooks’ brows furrowed when he skimmed through the contents of the document. “What the hell is this?” He fumed.

“Divorce papers.” Belle replied simply.

He tightened his jaw still staring at the words on the pages instead of looking up at her. “I need a pen.” Jungkook muttered quietly before walking past her towards the living room.

Chest clenched tightly but she let out a quick breath before following him along watching him walk towards the sitting area.

Belle’s brows furrowed when she noticed they were walking away from the staircase to the study to get a pen. Instead she saw Jungkook pad towards the couches, to the fireplace sitting in front of them still running to keep the place warm and cozy. Even though the atmosphere was anything but that.

It didn’t take long until finally she saw Jungkook tossing the papers and empty envelope right into the fire. Stammering she watched the flames rise higher before dissipating the documents, their names burned away achingly slow. “Jungkook.” She tried to move past him to grab the remnants of the papers but both her arms were grabbed to keep her in place.

“Are you trying to hurt me now? Huh?” Jungkooks’ eyes burned into hers, hair matted to his glistening forehead.

Belle yanked out of his grasp which made his move his arms but he still stood dangerously close. “Don’t try to make me look like the bad guy here.” She seethed. “We’ve tried to fix this but it’s not working. You didn’t even want to talk to me when I walked into the room.”

“Because I thought you were going to start up another fight which clearly you were.” He gestured harshly towards the fireplace.

“Do you have a better idea?” Her vision grew blurry. “Because I don’t want to wake up another morning feeling like you hate me.” Belle hadn’t spoken about her feelings to the man in a long time. So long that expressing it now made her feel utterly exposed.

“You really think I hate you?” Jungkook spoke through gritted teeth. “You really think I’d still be in this apartment because I fucking hated you?”

“When was the last time you told me you loved me then? Hm?” Tears streamed down her face, mascara smudging at the corners of her eyes a little. “When was the last time we actually spoke to each other without yelling or crying?” Belle sobbed out.

“That doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.” He protested, his eyes glistening even in the dimmed warm light. “How did you even think I would sign those papers, huh?”

Belle shrugged weakly, smiling a little sadly. “Maybe you’d be happier without me.”

His eyes twitched as he pursed his lips together tightly. “Would you be happier without me?”

Her heart felt tired at this point tightening around itself as if trying to push out all the hurt or keep it all in. Happiness wasn’t a commonality for sure. But would it be any better if she couldn’t see him altogether? Spending years thinking of what could have happened if they just—kept holding onto that thread?

Without uttering a single word, Belle merely shook her head. In a second she was reminded at how well Jungkook still was at knowing what she needed right at that moment.

A small tear escaping down his cheek, Jungkook grabbed her by her cheeks and pressed a warm kiss against her lips. He could taste a saltiness on her dampened lips before his hands trailed down, wrapping them around her waist to cancel out any distance between them. He was fucking done being so far away from his baby, unable to touch her because they were too stubborn to say sorry. With a swift motion he picked her up and impatiently pressed her down against the fluffy rug.

Belle pulled at her scarf which was quickly pushed away and her cardigan lay as a blanket underneath. Fingers hooked on the hem of his cold T-shirt before pulling it over his head and discarding no one cared where. She felt his nails firmly graze up her thigh, hooking onto her panties and pulling it down only one of her thighs roughly. The thin piece of clothing dangling on her left ankle as Jungkook devoured her lips not wanting to unlock their tongues dancing.

His bulging shorts rubbed against her bare core making her moan against his lips. Jungkooks’ still wrapped hand pulled at her hair to press her further down on the floor. He watched her mouth part, small gasp passing through as his hips rubbed against her pooling core. “Look at me.” He spoke in a raspy voice, lust blown and glossy eyes piercing into her. “I want you to look at me.” He whispered, forehead pressing together as he carelessly pushed down his shorts to let his desperate cock free.

Belle felt his thick, wet tip rub up and down her sleek heat, walls already clenching to a get an aching taste of him inside her again. “Please—” A choked scream broke out of her when the man slammed into her. Her pussy swallowed up every inch of his cock, aching a little after being long-deprived from the stretch. She kept her gaze did not waiver however watching him contort his face in pleasure.

Jungkook could barely hear himself think after feeling his whole member hugged by that familiar heat. So deliciously tight and warm, he could stay like this forever if he could. “Fuck I missed you.” He whispered, hot breath hitting her face before he kissed her again, sighing in relief as he began thrusting into her. Every snap of his hips hit hard and deep wanting to make his movements embedded in their minds so they forget just how fucking good they felt together.

She grabbed onto his shoulders for dear life, legs spread out welcomingly for him to destroy her desperate heat. All her long hibernated nerves now jolted awake by the beautiful friction between them, electrifying her body.

He pulled apart the front of her dress, a few buttons flying off but Belle couldn’t care less. Neither of them could. This was the closest they had been in months. Nothing was going to stop them from spewing out all their bottled frustrations.

Belle felt his hot mouth press wet kisses on the curve of her breast, teeth grazing against the tender skin making her smile in bliss. Fingers gripped at the roots of his slightly damp hair reaching down to kiss his head. A gasp caught in her throat when he thrusted into her faster pushing to the limits of her release but she pushed him away.

“What’s wrong?” He breathed out staring at her confused but he quickly saw what she wanted.

Belle pushed on his chest to make him lie on his back before straddling him, the panties on her ankle slid away. She raised herself over his erect cock and slowly let her core devour him again causing a small groan under Jungkooks’ throat. His hands instinctively moved under the skirt of her dress, squeezing her bottom. Still her eyes fixated on him as her hips swayed, feeling his tip rub against her sweet spot making her legs melt.

She moved her hands to where his were and Jungkook immediately intertwined their fingers together. Belle carefully unwrapped the black cloth around his knuckles as the male sat up now, wanting to feel her closer.

Pressing a small kisses on his healing wounds, she quickened her pace.

Jungkook grabbed the back of her neck and intoxicated her with another kiss while his other hand guided her hips.

Belle held onto his shoulders now and bounced on his cock, the sheer pressure against her sweet spot could throw her over the edge in minutes. Arms wrapped around him as her teeth sunk into his skin, muffling her moans. Fingers ran through the hair on the back of his head, lips pressing messy kisses on his neck and cheek. “I love you.” She whispered in his ear.

The male grabbed the side of her neck again forcing her to meet his gaze. Thumb brushed the corner of her teary eyes, mascara smudging across her temple on his finger pad. Lips were barely hovering one another as Belle slowed her thrusts. “I love you too.” He sighed out the words, grabbing bits of her hair before pressing on her warm lips. “I love you so much.” His latter words were mumbled but Belle still heard them.

A small sob shook through her seeing that warmth again. One she hadn’t seen it in so long that it almost felt like dream but Jungkooks’ hands on her skin reminded her it wasn’t. This was all real.

Jungkook turned her around to lay on her stomach, legs straightened out and spread so he could sneak in between. His cock slid in on its own at this point with how fucked out her heat was and he didn’t waste a single second longer to continue the pace. He leaned into her, kisses lain on her shoulder and sweet words whispered in her ear.

He intertwined his fingers with a hand and Belle hugged it closer, his sweaty torso pressed firmly against her back as the onslaught of thrusts began. It was slow but it dug deep into her core and steadily patterned. Her belly pressed against the floor made it all the more easier to rub against her sweet spot and create some friction against her clit.

“Don’t stop.” She whispered giving Jungkook even more determination to torture her core with incessant pounding. Warmth gathered around her leaking heat and pleasure tickled under the skin of her thighs causing her moans to shake.

Jungkook drilled into her, his own moans melting with her as his climax now flooded his entire form, his hand gripping onto hers like it was a part of him.

Belle cried out, trying to muffle the pitch by pressing her lips against the back of his hand. The heated release making her legs shake under him uncontrollably. Cheek pressed against the rug now, she bit down her bottom lip, tears still flowing out of her from the force of her orgasm mixed with everything else.

He filled her up with his release uttering the most delicious whimpers and moan before kissing her cheek softly. “You okay, baby?” Jungkook whispered, caressing her tear stain cheek.

Belle smiled quickly, nodding even though fresh tears still fell turning to face him properly. “I’m glad you didn’t sign it.” She giggled through her light sobs.

Jungkook chuckled leaning in and lay a soft kiss on her salty lips. “I’d never leave you, baby.”

“Promise?” She asked in a whisper.

“Promise.”

Another thread now knitted with the one they had been dangling on, making them that tiny bit stronger than they were yesterday.

#jungkook #thebtswritersclub #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #husband jungkook #marriage au #bts marriage au

[flusteredloser]

subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader

it fandom week: huddling for warmth

content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k

at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny.  now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.

“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”

eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour. 

thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics.  mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep.  you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together.  but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further.   speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later. 

now, though, you still had one child left.

hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.

“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.

“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.

“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”

clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.

“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”

“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.

you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.” 

“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.”  you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory. 

“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.

“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket. 

“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”

you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall. 

the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.

walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door. 

you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.

“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.” 

“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."

“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”

you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”

she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.” 

“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.

she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”

taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”

she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”

“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”

pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature. 

clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev. 

bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you...  absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?

“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.

never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her. 

by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”

she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys. 

"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.

quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself. 

a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers. 

without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”

“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.

you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”

“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”

you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”

“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”

“aww-”

“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”

bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”

“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.

now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering? 

immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile. 

“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.

“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.

“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”

“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.

she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”

“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected. 

even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”

suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.

“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.

“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach. 

you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?

after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.

“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings. 

“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.

“no, no, no, do not do that again.”

bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”

“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.

bev moves about an inch closer. 

you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.

“are- are you... you want me to-”

you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”

“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.  

“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?” 

having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often. 

bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.

“stop that before i regret this, bev.”

“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”

you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.

“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.

that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev. 

after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair. 

you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.

just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.

wait. the window? 

your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time. 

snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.

instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side,  placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.

“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”

#itfandomweek #it fandom week #beverly marsh x reader #huddling for warmth #beverly marsh #beverly marsh x fem!reader #beverly marsh imagines #bev marsh x reader #it movie #it 2017 #it 2019 #stephen king IT #the losers club #the losers club imagines #richie tozier #bill denbrough #stanley uris #eddie kaspbrak #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #fanfics

[lune-hime]

Daddy (Chocobros x Reader)

Who knew a single word could have such an effect. 

↞Noctis↠

One forceful kick to Noctis’ calf and a squirming body in his arms was just enough to awaken the prince from his deep sleep. Opening heavy eyelids, he lazily blinked to adjust to the blurry limbo between dreamland and the world of the living. Another swift kick to his thigh, dangerously close to the royal jewels, snatched him out of his purgatory and had him puffing for air. Feeling more tossing he hazily regarded your disheveled form. He groaned in sleep-deprived annoyance and attempted to calm your writhing body by tightening his hold on you. It worked for a few moments, but just as Noctis had started to drift back off to sleep you commenced your movements again. This time, however, they were softer and more distracting. Instead of thrashing about you were now gently grinding against him, brow knitted into a firm line and soft heated gasps emerging from your slightly parted lips.

“Mmm, Noct just like that.” You mumbled huskily, moving your body lightly against his. The enticing lull of sleep he had felt a few moments ago was entirely washed away and now the prince was fully awake in more ways than one. He propped himself on one elbow to get a better view of your facial expressions. He smiled when the slight loss of contact made you whimper.

Your subconscious sinful ministrations had him planning ways he would punish you for disturbing his sleep.

“Daddy...please don't-” You whined, grinding harder and increasing the friction between your two bodies. Noctis’ wandering thoughts immediately ceased and his features contorted in confusion. He gingerly shook your arm.

“Y/N, wake up.” He called gently, tone still coated in sleep. When your eyes fluttered open the only thing you could see were brilliant sapphire orbs against the bleak grayscale of the room.

“Noct?” You yawned and looked up at him, eyes bleary and still adjusting to the light.

“Are you okay? You were talking in your sleep.” Noctis inquired, his stare unwavering.

“O-h really?” You gulped. Oh shit. You knew exactly what you had just been dreaming about.

He hummed in affirmation and with his free hand moved a couple sweaty strands of stray hair from your forehead.

“At first I thought you were having a, you know, dream about me, but then you started talking about your father.” He almost sounded disappointed at the last point.

“I was having a, you know, dream about you Noct...” You drifted off, moving so you were once again flush against his chest and started to trail your hand up and down his waist. Your prince had awoken you before you had the chance to get to the best part of your dream, thus leaving you a bit needy for touch. You looked up at him through your lashes expectantly.

He blinked a couple times as the two of you laid in silence, the air growing thicker by the second.

“So your dad was in your wet dream? That’s nasty, Y/N.” Noctis grimaced, seemingly out of the mood now, and buried his face in your neck before instantly falling asleep again. You laid there in utter shock, mouth agape and now very much wide awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering how you were engaged to this man.

↞Prompto↠

“Sweety, run your hand through your hair-Yes just like that!” Prompto chirped as he excitedly brought his camera to his face. The rapid clicking of the shutter drowned out the peaceful sounds of the towering pine forest. Ignis had thought it was a good idea to take a small break in the midst of your day long drive to Cleigne. Prompto, ever the enthusiastic photographer, pressured their driver to pull over when he began seeing signs on the side of the road for a scenic outlook. So here you were, back to the dramatic landscape and hair being ravaged by the wind.

“Prom--are you--sure--this is a g--ood spot?” You shouted as a strong gust of wind threw a chunk of hair awkwardly in front of your eyes. The shutter to his camera went off as you attempted to spit it out. The hair you removed from your visage revealed a sour look that made Prompto giggle.

“It’s perfect! You can see all the way to the Rock of Ravatogh from here. Plus the wind gives the photo dimension.” He winked playfully. It was difficult to be annoyed with Prompto for more than a few seconds. Anyone who was capable of that surely had ice in their chest instead of a heart. That toothy smile was like a stab of warmth into your body.

After a few more wind ridden, hair flying poses an idea popped into your head. Feeling in a rather playful mood, and wanting to get back at him for taking that awful photo of you, you decided to set your idea into action. And you hopped on any opportunity you could to tease your sunshine.

“Alright! Now lean back against the railing.” He instructed, motioning for you to back up with his hand. It made your heart flutter seeing how in his element he was. You almost didn’t feel like ruining the moment. Almost. Taking a few steps back, you felt the slight burn of the sun warmed metal on your arms as you rested them upon the railing.

“Okay, say cheese!” He chimed, climbing on a nearby rock. He crouched down to get a different angle and placed his camera to his face once again.

Here we go.

“Cheese, Daddy!” You sang, smiling brightly. The wind had graciously decided not to obstruct your vision so you didn’t miss Prompto experiencing the shock of his life. The boy suddenly lost his footing and haphazardly tumbled down the rock. The fall happened within a split second and it took you a moment to process what your suggestive remark had done.

“Oh my god Prom!” You screeched, immediately pushing yourself off the railing and racing towards him. The only part of him that was visible behind the boulder was his right arm sticking straight up, camera in hand, having protected it from being crushed as he fell. The scene was so comical you didn’t believe it was real until you rounded the corner of the rock to see his crumpled form in the dirt.

“Are you alright?” You called, your voice reaching a higher octave in worry. Prompto groaned in affirmation and hissed in pain as he tried to roll to a sitting position. Getting to your knees, you grabbed his camera and placed the worn strap around your neck before supporting his back as he slowly inched himself up.

Once he was sitting you let your eyes and hands alike to roam his body; turning him in various directions in search of any blood or scratches. The only abnormality you found, however, was the blush that was so intense it almost covered his freckles.

“Uh-yeah, I’m fine.” He coughed, brushing the gravel off his jeans. He waited a few moments before speaking up.

“D-did I hear you correctly?” He asked, stumbling over his words as his blush intensified tenfold.

“What do you mean, daddy?” You asked innocently, cocking your head to the side and blinking.

Prompto felt faint, and without your steady hand holding him up he would have surely tumbled down again. The implications of your solely playful word, though, had triggered a feeling of desire within him.

Reaching out to grasp the leather around your neck, Prompto carefully maneuvered the camera strop off your neck and placed it safely to the side. His fingertips sent tingles up the back of your scalp and with his trademark swiftness, he had you pinned down on the ground underneath him. The motion was so fluid it didn’t give you a chance to react.

“Let’s see how many times I can get you to call me that before we have to rejoin the others.” He smirked, a determined glint in his eye. Oh how the tables had turned.

↞Ignis↠

It wasn't uncommon that you found yourself not being able to take your eyes off of Ignis. The man was an earthly embodiment of an astral. Every movement he made, from his calculated evasions on the battlefield to the way he flicked the spatula as he prepared scrambled eggs in the morning. Everything he did was laced with an ethereal grace. Tonight, however, your gaze was particularly glued to his suit. More specifically the way the tailored fabric hugged every curve of his body. It accentuated his muscular arms and clung to his toned thighs as he glided about the ballroom, greeting and engaging with the foreign and domestic elite. In his usual attire, one would look at his above average height and assume his slenderness but this suit was throwing those assumptions directly out the window.

Since the royal gala had commenced, in between the idle chatting and socializing your eyes were always locked on his form from afar. The view of his endowed backside you got when he suddenly turned to face away from you to talk with a new group of politicians had you drooling into your cocktail.

“He looks like such a daddy in that suit.” You sighed dreamily. It was impossible for your mind not to wander straight into the gutter when that outfit left nothing to the imagination.

“Wow, Y/N I didn’t know you were that kinky.” A deep voice barked into your ear, subsequently snapping you out of your daze. You jumped, the contents of your drink sloshing dangerously close to the rim of your glass. Of all the guests in the ballroom who could have heard you it had to have been him. And he was never going to let you live this down.  

“Shit, Gladio don’t scare me like that. You know I startle easily.” You scolded your friend. Your voice was a bit breathy and the embarrassment of your comment was starting to physically take form as a deep rouge on your cheeks. The man next to you looked like he was having too much of a good time seeing you squirm and regarded you with a playful smirk. He motioned his index finger for you to lean in closer. Gladiolus met your scowl with a light chuckle as you cautiously stepped closer to him.

“You gonna let him fasten you to the bed with his tie later and call him that?” Gladio prodded in a low voice, just above a whisper. His tone was teasing as he wiggled his eyebrows at your mortified form. You were sure your skin had turned a bright shade of fuchsia, constrasing with the deep Lucian obsidian of your ballgown.

“Shh! Someone is going to hear you.” You hissed, taking advantage of Gladiolus’ bent form and jabbing him in the gut with your elbow. He huffed and faltered slightly, but recovered quickly with a loud burst of laughter.

Unbeknownst to you, a certain someone had in fact overheard the whole discord.  Your words were loud enough to reach Ignis’ ears and potent enough to turn the tips of them a flushed scarlet. You were never one to use such forward language and hearing such a shameless word applied to him put an uncomfortable strain on his already tight trousers. The riveting points by the government officials next to him about altering Insomnia’s current trade agreement to one of a bilateral nature was now falling on deaf ears as Ignis’ began ringing with desire. Less than appropriate images of you screaming that word while he pounded into you on the kitchen counter, brunch simmering on the stovetop and the early afternoon sunlight casting a radiant hue on your frame were not suitable for the occasion and he began having to mask his increasing distraction with feigned interest. He cleared his throat once there was a pause in the conversation and politely excused himself, weaving seamlessly past the fews guests that stood between your two parties.

The moment Gladiolus saw Ignis making his way through the sea of bodies, he whispered a quick don’t do anything I wouldn’t do...which is nothing as long as it’s consensual and patted you on the back lightly before whisking himself away to save Noctis. The poor boy was being chatted up by an older woman who was dropping subtle flirtatious hints. You sputtered a mixture of curses and words of embarrassment as you fanned yourself in attempt to calm your already riled body.

Ignis had done a far better job at collecting himself than you, strolling up to your flustered form with seemingly nothing amiss.

“Hello, darling.” He approached you with a warm smile and placed a loving hand on your shoulder. The contact felt like a hot iron to your skin. Your skin prickled with sensation under his palm and you weren’t able to mask the pleasant shiver that racked through your body.

“Hi, Iggy. Any exciting conversations?” Your asked, grinning cheerfully to mask your growing desire. Little did you know the man next to was struggling with the same problem.

“As exciting as tariffs and taxes go.” He sighed as his hand nimbly traveled from your shoulder down your arm, leaving a ghost of touches that set your nerves off like fireworks. It made its way down until it reached its destination at the small of your back. Ignis casually stepped closer and closed the lingering space between the two of you. His grin radiated a sweet innocence but his touch was anything but.

“Sounds interesting.” You gulped. Unable to make eye contact for fear of being burned alive by his heated gaze, you suddenly found the half empty contents of your cocktail to be the most intriguing thing in the world.

“Quite riveting I can assure you.” Ignis let out an airy chuckle. He then leaned in even closer so the only thing keeping the two of you from being flush against one another was your drink.

“But my dear, I’m much more interested in how you think of my outfit. Or more so, me in this outfit.” His sultry tone sounded like liquid velvet against the edge of your ear. The hand on the small of your back started drawing lazy circles along the fabric of your dress.  

You were mortified. There was no way he could have heard you, right? When you didn’t respond he tilted your chin up so you were forced to look at him. His emerald eyes were practically shining.

“You underestimate my hearing.” Ignis purred. You didn’t have the proper chance to react before he began putting pressure on the small of your back, silently asking you for permission to lead you away.  

“I didn’t know you were into that sort of thing, love. Let’s excuse ourselves for a bathroom break, shall we?” Ignis’ request was laced with silk as his hand trailed even lower to snake around your lower hip and pull you to his side. You nodded excitedly, promptly placing your drink on a passing waiter's tray as you trotted as fast as your heels could carry you to the nearest unoccupied room.

The following day, Gladiolus rounded the corner to Ignis’ office. He knocked on the grand double doors twice with his knuckles before letting himself in. The man seated behind the desk looked how he usually did; white dress shirt neatly tucked into freshly ironed black pants and suspenders straightened on his shoulders. He was hunched over a pile of documents, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose as he intently studied the papers. Gladiolus smiled devilishly and cleared his throat.

“Hey, daddy wanna go grab some lunch before we spar?” He asked, finishing off his request with a wink. Ignis jolted with so much force that the documents went flying and he fell sideways off his desk chair. Not a moment later, Gladiolus quickly ducked out the door just as a dagger went flying towards his head, his thick laughter booming off the walls of the Citadel’s high ceilings.

↞Gladiolus↠

You had been scrubbing your plate for a solid three minutes, the residue from your meal having been washed away long ago. The chocobo dish towel in your hand methodically moved in circular motions against the plastic dish while your mind wandered in a similar pattern. A nap in the regalia earlier had led to a certain unholy dream, the contents of which had been preoccupying your thoughts all afternoon. The antics of the dream had you awoken to a light sweat and a flushed face. Gladiolus was quick to pick up on your condition since you had been sleeping curled up to his chest. When he questioned you about it you had brushed it off as a bad dream, to which he didn’t push you further. But the more you tried to get the stupid thing out of your mind the more intrusive it became.

Gladiolus’ firm hands were on your hips, digging into the plush flesh as he thrusted deeper into you. Your hands were threaded through his hair, tugging lightly and scratching at his scalp. The electrifying sensation his bite marks left on your neck combined with his rhythmic thrusts caused your toes to curl and soon you felt the coil inside your stomach beginning to relea-

“Gross, Gladdy!” Iris grimaced, her high pitched screech snapping you out of your fantasies. You whipped your head in the direction of the fire. Gladiolus had dropped his fully loaded hot dog, chilly cheese and all, onto his sweatpants in a frenzy of winning a particularly grueling round of Kings Knight against Noctis. In the excitement a few stray pieces had made their was towards an unhappy Iris.

“You don’t know the meaning of gross since you didn’t have to deal with yourself as a baby.” Gladiolus retorted, earning a snort from his sister.

“Babe, could you grab us some napkins on your way back.” He called towards you, a cheesy smile on his face when you made eye contact. You returned the gesture and heaved yourself up from your crouched position at the water bucket. Shaking your plate a couple times to scatter the remaining water droplets, you placed it on the drying rack near the grill and plucked a few napkins from their plastic casing before walking towards the group. You handed Iris her’s on your way to Gladiolus’ chair.

“Here, daddy.” You held out the napkin, immediately seizing up when you came to the realization of what you said. His eyes widened for a split second before his pupils dilated, the amber now masked by deep cobalt. The electricity from his gaze sent shockwaves up your spine, leaving a heated trail of blush along your exposed skin. Fully snapped out of your previous daze, you realized you both were still holding onto the napkin. Letting go suddenly, you coughed and readjusted the hem of your sweatshirt.

“What, Gladdy?” You inquired innocently, squirming slightly in place as his gaze intensified. The way Gladiolus was regarding you from under his long eyelashes gave you goosebumps. The sinful thoughts were practically radiating off of him.

“Nuh-uh. That's not what you said.” His smirk expanded and he licked his lips, the spilled condiments on his thigh completely forgotten.

“You obviously heard wrong.” You countered playfully, biting your lip and finally holding his gaze.

“Why so shy, baby girl?” He cooed lowly enough so the others wouldn’t hear.

“You should start calling me that more often.” His tone had gotten so deep that it sounded like it was rumbling from his chest. His excitement over the word had given you a newfound confidence. Leaning closer, you placed a hand on his clean thigh and squeezed. “Better finish cleaning off your hot dog then, daddy , so I can start tonight.” You whispered seductively. Pushing off his thigh you skipped away to sit next to Iris on the ground, leaving a stunned Gladiolus to vigorously wipe the remnants of his meal away.

#ffxv #ffxv noctis #ffxv gladiolus #ffxv prompto #ffxv ignis #chocobros #chocobros x reader #Noctis Lucis Caelum #noctis x reader #prompto argentum #prompto x reader #gladiolus amicitia #gladiolus x reader #ignis x reader #ignis scientia #ffxv x reader #ffxv imagines

[marvelmaniac715]

This is an original gothic horror inspired Christmas story that I wrote last year. I thought it would be interesting to post it so that people could see what else I write other than fanfiction :).

————————————————————-

At first I wasn’t frightened. Of course, the notion was so absurd that it was easy enough to laugh off as a figment of my addled, sleep-deprived imagination. The construct of a strained psyche, nothing more. The idea that my daughter’s haphazardly built snowman was a living, breathing being was outlandish.

The thought of this concept came about when my five year old daughter Mathilde came running inside to me, insisting that her new friend was moving. Her mother and I indulged this fantasy when it became clear that the child simply wouldn’t see sense, and a small saucer’s worth of table scraps was left outside for ‘Mr Frost’ as he was now known, as Mathilde insisted that he was hungry.

Mathilde was heartbroken when we had to deconstruct the snowman in order to shovel our front path and retrieve my hat and scarf, she wept for hours on end. We couldn’t convince her to move from the window all of that day. At bedtime, we had to pry her away with our full strength in order to shift her.

My wife and I had hoped that she would be in better spirits by the morning, but alas, she was as solemn as the day before. Some friends of hers from school came over asking to play, but she refused. It was unsettling to see such grief from such a young child, who had no concept of death. Both sets of grandparents were still alive, and the family pet was a foul tempered cat named Spice who was still very much in the prime of life.

Two more days passed in a similar fashion, but after three days, my wife and I woke up to Mathilde bouncing up and down excitedly on our bed, imploring us to come outside. We noticed that she was already in her winter coat (half in, to be precise, she always struggled with the sleeves) and her face was flushed rose pink with the cold.

We were so thrilled to see her return to her former self that we immediately agreed to come downstairs to see what miraculous thing has restored her spirit. But when I went to grab my hat and scarf from the hook, they weren’t there. A feeling of deep wrongness took root in the pit of my stomach, and I shared an anxious glance with my wife. Could Mathilde have possibly rebuilt her snowman whilst we slept?

Sure enough, right outside, where he had stood less than a week before, was Mr Frost, glaring cooly from his coal eyes, gleaming in a solitary ray of early morning sunlight. Mathilde was beaming as she went to throw her arms around her cold companion, but her joy was quelled when my wife Gretchen gently admonished her.

“Now Mathilde, what have we told you about your friend here? He prevents us from leaving the house, and your Papa needs his hat and scarf. And it was naughty of you to sneak out at night, anything could have happened to you!”

Slightly downhearted but still glowing with the faintest hint of excitement, Mathilde grinned conspiratorially and whispered.

“But Mama, I was asleep all night, I came downstairs to fetch a glass of water and saw him outside. Don’t you see? He’s come back to me!”

This… this was clearly the fantasy of a foolish child, there was no conceivable way that a snowman (a manmade creation) could build itself overnight. Mathilde must have been trying to lie her way out of punishment, but the lie was so obvious that it was easy to see through it.

We had to deconstruct the snowman again, of course, but this time, Mathilde didn’t cry. Instead, she stood still, smiling eerily as she gazed at the front door, just beyond which lay the remains of her companion. My wife and I were unsettled, and this image stuck with me as I went to bed that night, I couldn’t sleep.

Against my better judgement, I crept downstairs and took my coat from its hook. Trying desperately to make no sound, I painstakingly opened the door, and each second my hand was exposed to the air the wind nipped at my skin. I couldn’t find my gloves. Or my hat. But Mathilde was sound asleep, I’d made sure to lock her door and window. She couldn’t have done this.

The moment I stepped outside, I was met with a bone chilling sight. The wind itself whipped the snow skywards, moulding it into a disturbingly familiar shape. My hat and gloves rose into the air, the gloves settling on two sticks that had jerked upwards like a macabre marionette, and the hat just hovering in empty space. But not for long.

The snow had settled into its final resting place, the shape of a snowman. I suddenly felt the greatest urge to rush up to my daughter’s room and apologise profusely. She was telling the truth all along, and I had dismissed her as a foolish child.

The snowman’s coal mouth grinned at me in satisfaction. The sticks jolted forwards, reaching out towards me. Then the wind blew fiercely, pelting me with angry hail and bullet-like snowflakes. This wind wrapped around the snowman and lifted it (whole) into the air. With one powerful blast, it exploded, showering the ground with snow and coal.

Shaken by what I had seen, I returned to bed, but the cold clung to me like a blanket, or more fittingly, a funeral shroud. I couldn’t shake it, even when I went entirely under my duvet. It was like the snowman was right there behind me, breathing down my neck, smiling and smiling.

It wouldn’t stop. Why wouldn’t it stop? Everywhere I went, every time I went outside or just sat in my kitchen, it was there. Mathilde was delighted to find her friend waiting outside for her, Gretchen just assumed that I had caved in and decided to let her have her snowman. She didn’t understand. When I tried to explain the horrors I had witnessed, she had merely laughed and told me that I was a wonderful father for indulging my child’s fantasies.

It occurred to me that Mathilde would probably know something about this. Sure enough, when I asked if she knew how he kept coming back, she beamed at me and invited me to sit down next to her. Once I was settled, and Mathilde had been assured that her mother was not around, she whispered in my ear.

“The day I built him, I accidentally spilled some water I had taken from Moon Rock Lake onto the snow he was made from. The second he had a mouth, he whispered to me that we would be best friends forever, and that he would never ever leave me. I’m so glad you’ve seen him come back too, Papa, now I have someone else to play with!”

Moon Rock Lake was said to be cursed by a vengeful witch centuries ago, spurned by a lover who went on to wed another. But that was a simple story that the village elders told to children to stop them from playing in our main water source, or so I was led to believe. There was no other explanation for what I had seen though, so I didn’t know what to think.

That night, I didn’t care if I was heard. I raced downstairs and threw open the front door. I paused to grab a shovel, but forgot my coat in my rush to get outside. Outside, I rushed at the snowman and whacked it repeatedly with my shovel until it was no more. I did what I could to separate the snow into several piles, far apart from each other, and I burned the coal, and the sticks. Regretfully, I had to burn my hat and gloves as well. Now this snow demon would be vanquished.

I slept peacefully that night, but when I awoke, my wife Gretchen was not beside me. The house was deathly silent. I crept downstairs in fright, constantly looking over my shoulder as if I was being followed. Sitting near the front door with a knife in hand was my daughter, Mathilde. She tapped the knife against the door and stared at me unblinkingly. Then she spoke.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Papa. You shouldn’t have done that at all.”

#original story #story #gothic horror #christmas #horror #snowman #creative writing #writing #writers on tumblr

[jessikahathaway]

Ambrosia - Prologue

Park Jimin (Aphrodite) X Reader

Genre: GreekGod!AU, Genderbent Aphrodite!AU, Romance, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn and Smut (Future)

Warnings: Mentions of terminal illness, Jimin in a SUIT, Namjoon being a lil nosy, profanity (if I forgot anything please let me know!)

Words: 3.1k (YA GIRL PROCRASTINATED TOO LONG AND DIDN'T GET THE FULL CHAPTER DONE SO WE'RE DOING A PROLOGUE. K? K.)

Summary: Cast out of Olympus with the task to find his one true love, Aphrodite is certain his match will come to him. But as the years drag on, what happens when the God of Love, gives up?

Days in a flower shop in the middle of a decent sized town can pass by fast or slow. There can be days with what feels like hundreds of orders coming through the tiny store, and then there are the days where the employees just wind up looking at their phones the whole time and not one soul passes through the door.

But on special days, all it takes is one person to walk through those doors and everything changes.

This is a story of one of those days.

--

Tuesdays could seriously go fuck off for all you cared. This particular Tuesday was proving to be a test on every ounce of your patience and every single time you heard that door bell ring as the gates of hell opened, your shoulders sagged a little more. Something about their flowers wasn’t right. The blue wasn’t like the sky but like the sea and that’s an issue. The flowers look wilted. Always something.

But, like you did every day you turned to the customer and gave them a huge smile, ready to help them with whatever they needed. Even if it meant losing your sanity little by little.

The day passed this way, going on and the clock didn’t seem to be moving at your desired pace. So, you sat on the chair behind the desk at the front and gazed out the window.

It was a warmer spring day.

The trees were budding and life was returning after a long winter. You loved this time of the year. Everything becoming new again, alive and welcoming. But, it also means more work for you. It’s never been a problem, but this past year has been particularly hard.

Your younger sister passed away.

She’d been fighting a long illness, one with a poor prognosis. At a young age you and Sana were placed in the foster system, living with a decent enough upbringing. The foster parents were never mean or cruel, but they weren’t your parents. Whom you barely remembered now. So when you turned eighteen you asked if you could become her legal guardian. Your foster parents had agreed, wishing you and her the best of luck...

But luck had never been on you or your sister’s side.

Her illness started to rapidly progress, causing more and more doctor’s visits and more money being pulled from your measly savings. It wasn’t enough. You were having to take out loans and everything just to keep the lights on in your apartment.

Sana, however, kept her spirits high no matter the situation. She was the positive one. The bright one that everyone gravitated towards in school. She was your light. And now your life is duller. Your sister loved to go through the streets in her wheelchair, looking at the budding leaves and flowers that were growing on the trees.

“Look Y/N!” she’d squeak. “They’re so beautiful. I want to open a flower shop, and I’m going to sell the most beautiful flowers to people.”

As her birthday present you decided to open the flower shop.

It was her last one.

Looking out at the spring blooming in front of you it was hard to be happy, knowing how much your sweet Sana would’ve loved it. Life often wasn’t fair, but you hadn’t expected it to be so. You weren’t a bad person, but bad things had happened. But you were alive, and had a life to keep living.

As much as the flower shop was Sana’s dream, you couldn’t sell it when she died. It had become your safe haven. A little place to call your own. Even if it was Sana’s dream, you had made it real. Real enough for the both of you, and now you gotta keep it going. Even if the loan to open it made your wallet want to cry, it was enough. Plenty.

Because it was yours.

A single tear fell down your cheek as you thought of your beloved sister, and her cute cheeks and beautiful eyes that never held an ounce of fear or regret. A few petals fell from the blossoming tree outside in the wind and fell to the ground in a swirl of pastel hues that made you smile.

More tears moved down your cheeks and you wiped them away in frustration. She wouldn’t want you to be upset, she’d want you to be happy and to continue with your life. Keep going and make something of yourself.

Sana used to say that you were always Y/N the big sister and never just... Y/N. And you knew it was true. You were supposed to take care of her, but now that she’s gone... T-There was no one to care for but yourself.

You’d have to be enough.

Suddenly, the bell above your door ran proudly, making your teary eyes refocus on the person entering the store. Those tears were quickly replaced with a look of wonder.

A man walked through the door, head held high and his eyes scanned the area like he was inspecting it. Wiping your already sweaty palms on your apron you approached him with a gentle smile.

“Welcome to Sana’s flowers, how can I assist you?” you asked, coming towards him. The man took in your appearance and a calm expression steeled over his face.

“Hi, are you Sana?” he asked, referring to the name.

“No, Sana was my sister,” you said, swallowing hard. The man seemed to understand.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to impose,” he said, bowing lightly.

“You’re fine, no worries. How can I help you?” you asked, looking at his apparel.

He was dressed in a fine suit, tailored to his every inch, must’ve been expensive as hell. You could probably open a whole new section of your shop with the money he was dripping in.

You weren’t known for having an upper class clientele, not that the occasional businessman came in and asked for a bouquet of your finest flowers. Sometimes two... Shaking your head you focused on the man in front of you as best as you could. But, his features were so striking it was hard to keep your eyes from wander...

“Park Jimin,” he introduced, holding his hand out politely.

“Y/N,” you said, extending your own hand and taking his in yours. Shaking gently he gave a smile that could rival the very stars in the sky. This man was more breathtaking the longer you looked, making your palms start to sweat even more.

“A pleasure, Y/N,” he said. “I’m having an event to celebrate my family's company. It’s the 125 year of it’s business and we are looking to source from the local populace instead of corporations to provide a more intimate setting for the investors and other members of the company,” Jimin said, rambling off a lot of information for your sleep deprived brain.

“I see, so you’re looking for floral arrangements?” You asked, heading towards your book of options. Jimin followed you over, leaning towards you so close you could smell his cologne. A spicy scent that wasn’t overpowering but more... alluring? Inviting?

Shaking your head you pulled up your options of centerpieces and the like, showing him what styles you had available and Jimin paid close attention to each set. Asking questions about what flowers would look good in what vases and if they did better in foam or water.

“For events I prefer the foam personally. Less likelihood of someone knocking a vase over and water getting everywhere. But the flowers are more mobile in the water, so it’s about what you’re looking for in regards to the feel,” you said.

Jimin seemed to weigh his options for a moment. “I like the traditional styles you showed me. The simple little flowers decorating around the larger arrangements, it looks classy and provides the color I’m looking for,” he said, nodding.

Making a note you grabbed a notepad to start writing all the information down.

“So when is your event? A month, two?” You said, throwing out a few different times.

“Two weeks,” he said. You froze, swallowing hard.

“Ah, I see,” you said, biting your lip.

“Is that a problem?” He asked, looking up at your pained expression.

“It’s just, the flowers might take a minute to get here. And I arrange everything by hand, so it takes me a little longer. How many tables were you going to have and the garlands for the stairways as well?” You asked.

“Well as for tables I have 150 dinner tables, 50 cocktail tables and 8 large banquet tables. There are two main stairwells that wrap around to the main area so there will be about 400ft worth of garland necessary,” he calculated slowly.

“Okay,” you said, rubbing your temples slowly.

“How many people do you have on your payroll?” He asked, looking around and noticing the empty space.

“Just me. My friend Namjoon likes to come and help sometimes but he’s a full time nurse so,” you shrugged.

“Would you be able to do this in two weeks with just by yourself?” He asked, raising a brow.

“I can always try,” you said, giving a gentle smile.

“How much would it cost?” He asked.

“Depends on the flowers you want, you already picked the style so one second,” you said, grabbing your calculator and running the numbers really quick. “I can do expedited shipping on the flowers to get them here faster but then you run the risk of stems getting broken and not having enough. But I can order more to compensate but then that’s more money,” you said.

Finally you had a total and you frowned.

“It would be around $2,156 if we did the expedited shipping and ordered more flowers to compensate for the potential broken ones,” you said, biting your lip. That was a lot of money to spend on flowers for a simple dinner event. You knew it, but with everything he wanted and the time frame it was the best you could do... You didn’t even charge him for the probability of Namjoon helping. Because then it would jump up to the 3,000 dollar mark and you weren’t going to push your luck.

After a few moments, Jimin pulled out his checkbook and started writing the check out. Your eyes bulged when he pushed the piece of paper towards you, his pen clicking with a sense of finality.

“What kind of flowers should we get?” He said, a smile on his face. You looked down and almost flung the check right back at him.

$5,500

This man had just dropped over five thousand dollars without blinking.

“Th-This is too much,” you said, trying to push it back towards him.

“You charged me for base flowers, and it’s super short notice. Take the extra as a tip,” he smiled.

“I-I can’t accept over two thousand dollars as a tip. If I get audited I’ll be screwed,” you said.

“No you won’t, it’ll be fine. Please, take it,” he encouraged, placing the check back in front of you.

You swallowed thickly, trying to keep yourself from panicking. You did have a large loan payment coming up, and this would lessen that blow significantly...

But wasn’t it wrong?

“Alright...” you trailed off, taking the check and stamping it before putting it in your deposit bag.

“What type of flowers do you recommend using?” He asked, looking at you with a gentle gleam in his bright eyes.

“Peonies and hydrangeas are a great combo with complementary color palettes. I always love doing grass pieces as a nice natural moment but, baby's breath is a classic and more traditional if that’s what you’re looking for,” you said.

“Can we do the soft blue hydrangeas and white peonies?” He asked, looking at the sample photos you had.

“Yes, the white peonies would bring a nice fullness and the hydrangeas can add the color,” you explained.

“Perfect, let’s do that then,” he said, nodding.

“Okay! I’ll get the order to go in and get the expedited shipping and we should get them by the end of the week. They’ll go into the fridge and that should help keep them fresh,” you said.

“Here.”

You turned around to see a small card placed on the table in front of you.

“What’s this?” You asked, lifting the small thing to your eyes.

“My number,” he said, grinning. “Message me when the flowers come in.”

“O-Okay, absolutely!”

Jimin smiled then, a bright dazzle expression that had your mouth drying in longing.

“I look forward to hearing from you, Y/N,” he said.

“I look forward to it as well, Mr. Park,” you said politely. Jimin tutted and shook his head.

“No, Jimin will do just fine. Have a great day Y/N,” he waved, turning on his heel and heading out the door.

You looked at the numbers and sighed.

God you were so fucked.

—

“So, let me get this straight,” Namjoon said over the phone. “Hot guy in a suit comes in and orders a fuck ton of flowers you know you can’t do yourself and you agree because he dropped an extra few grand in the check? Y/N! You can’t do that, I’ll only be able to help you arrange the bouquets the day of. So you’ll have to put them all together yourself! When will you sleep? Eat? Poop!?!” He yelped.

“Firstly, my bowel movements are none of your concern,” you stated. “And second of all, I can’t refuse that kind of money! The next loan payment is going to fuck me over if I don’t have this padding. Please Joonie, tell me you can help me at least the night before,” you pleaded.

“I really can't Y/N, I’m working night rotation. So, I could maybe stop by in the morning but then the flowers have to sit longer,” he reasoned.

“Yeah I know... Can you switch?” You said, a soft voice replacing your whining.

“I wish I could, but there’s hardly any staff that night as it is. And we’re all pulling hours we don’t like. I can’t ask them to do more. Poor Taehyung has already covered me this month and I would rather throw myself in front of a car than ask again,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re busy and I’m desperate, but... I’ll figure it out,” you said, rubbing your face in exhaustion.

“What kind of asshat doesn’t come in until last minute to order a huge ass amount of floral arrangements?” Namjoon asked.

“An asshat named Park Jimin apparently,” you said, twisting the stem of a flower in front of you.

“You-You mean the Park Jimin?” Namjoon stuttered.

“I don’t know how many of them there are, Namjoon. I just know what this one looked like,” you said.

“Doesn’t he have like, neon pink hair or something?” He asked.

“Um, no? It was blonde-ish when he was in here,” you said.

“Plump lips?”

“Yeah?”

“Eyes that command the panties of women to drop?” He asked.

“Sir, my panties stayed firmly in place so I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about,” you huffed.

“For now, Y/N, for now. Anyways,” he said dismissively. “If this is the Park Jimin we’re talking about you need to be very careful.”

“What? What are you talking about,” you whispered.

“He’s like a sex God or something. He’s got game better than Jordan, okay? But he never commits to anyone,” he said, seriously.

You rolled your eyes, even though the man couldn’t see you.

“My heart isn’t in danger here, Namjoon. We’ll be fine. I can handle an attractive businessman,” you said.

“Yeah, but can your cum thirsty twat handle it?”

“Sir, I’m gonna hang up,” you warned.

“As a nurse I demand to know the last time you got laid,” he said. “It’s for you health of course.”

“That should be a HIPPA violation,” you complained.

“Yeah, not a friendship violation though. Tell me when was the last time you were left boneless between the sheets my guy,” he said.

“I don’t see how this has to do with floral arrangements,” you sighed. “But since your bitch ass needs to know it was about a year ago.”

“Well, maybe it is time to get back in the ring,” he reasoned.

“Namjoon, there’s no need to get me a suitor. You’re not my dad trying to get another cow on the farm or something,” you joked.

“Do you think Park Jimin would give me a cow if I gave him you?” He asked, sounding too serious for your liking.

“I’m really gonna hang up now,” you said, pulling your phone away from your face.

“Just, be safe Y/N! Don’t work too hard, I love you!” You heard screamed from the receiver.

“Yeah love you too Joonbug,” you said, hanging up and looking at the clock. The numbers glared back at you like they were judging you for being up this late. But you simply shrugged and went and took a much needed shower.

That man had you sweating like a sinner in church.

As you bathed you tried to think of your next plan of attack, but the water was too warm and soon you found yourself relaxing into the stream happily. Once you were done you cracked open a can of beer and sat down in your living room ready to start the night right, when a message floated across your screen.

Joonbug: IS THIS THE CULPRIT?!? Jpg.1013

You stared at the screen with an unamused face, but picked up your device anyway. Namjoon had sent you the picture and you could tell the fucker picked the first one off of google images like the lame hoe he was, but you looked regardless.

And, surprisingly, it was him.

The cherubic cheeks and wide smile, bright eyes and an alluring body. You sighed and texted him back.

Y/N: Yea, that’s him.

Joonbug: OH REAAALLLLYYYY???

Y/N: I hate you so much.

Joonbug: You can’t resist. THIS.

Y/N: I’ve resisted your rat poison for years, I think I got it.

Joonbug: EXcUSE MEEEE??? I am at least some kind of like, sexy poison???

Y/N: I’m dying either way, why do I care if it’s sexy or not?

Joonbug: :((((((

You left the conversation at that, but your mind began to wander. How were you going to finish this order and not embarrass yourself in front of a multimillionaire?

Maybe you bit off more than you can chew...

#ficswithluv #ksmutclub #Jimin X Reader #Greek Gods #Jimin as Aphrodite #BTS Greek Gods #Jimin X Reader smut #Jimin Smut #Slow burn #Future Smut #Namjoon is a nurse #BTS #Bangtan #BTS Fanfic #BTS Fanfiction #BTS smut

[blzzrdstryr]

Misery

Sadistic!Yandere!Diluc x Fatui Harbinger!GN!reader

Wordcount: 6748

CW: torture, sex, foul language, isolation, sensory deprivation, extremely unhealthy relationships, dubcon, mindbreak, violence

Diluc isn’t a cruel person. Not necessarily. He punishes you only when you are difficult and for the last few weeks you tried to stay on your best behavior. Ragnvindr is nice to you, benevolent even, willing to look past your former affiliations and shower you with love. At times his affections seem suffocating and irking, blood red eyes following your every movement and him absorbing your every word as if it is a holy scripture, but you remind yourself that his love is the best thing that happened to you in your whole life.

Truly, Diluc is so kind to take you in and help you fix the errors of your old ways, even when you were snarling and spitting insults in his face, too stubborn to see how wrong your old life was. You were ignorant and ungrateful back then, seeing nothing but a Harbinger title and service to Tsaritsa. You forced Diluc to lock you up to make you realize that you didn't need your title or your vision or your archon. He is there for you and it's all that matters, you can rely on him for everything and he is happy to provide, persistent in his care for you and even now he is patient with your… deficiencies, waiting when you stop staring into the distance with vacant eyes.

You stand in front of an open but barred window, a typically Mondstadtian landscape revealed to you - bright green grass and patches of dandelions and windwheel asters growing in small groups with tall trees of the same shade finishing the picture. A gentle breeze flows through the opening, playing with your hair and caressing your skin, yet you imagine another type of wind - stronger and colder, relentless and carrying small snowflakes on the way. You close the eyes and see another image - tall, leafless trees covered by multiple layers of snow and the white ground between them. Snow shines and glitters under the pale winter sun, and you feel alive and bitter at the same time.

You know the place, having been there once, but your memory now is too blurry and fuzzy. All of the events prior to Diluc fixing you up are too foggy to make out the finer details and it somehow makes you feel sad, when you should be grateful instead. Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t make them stop, rapidly going from silent crying to full on hysterics.

You hear Diluc asking what’s wrong with a concern in his voice, his hands slightly shaking your crying form. You can’t answer him, wailing even louder and stronger, hiding your face in both hands, ashamed from the sudden outburst and overwhelmed from unreasoned sorrow and heartache. Only when Ragnvindr painfully squeezes both of your shoulders and demands to know what is wrong with you in that tone that makes you shiver and gasp, do you stop, looking at him with wide scared eyes, hands that were used to cover your face, are now up in the air in a semi defensive stance.

He seems uncomfortable by your reaction, a slight frown appearing on his face, scarlet brows knit together and corners of mouth turned downward. “I am sorry”, you say, voice small and pleading, eyes casted aside not meeting his out of embarrassment. Why did you start to act so childish out of the blue?

“There’s nothing to apologize”, Diluc takes off the glove, using an uncovered hand to wipe away the tear tracks from your cheeks. There’s no irritation in his voice, just concern, so you risk a glance at him, as he continues: “You are just making me worry”

“I am sorry” you repeat, feeling a prick to your heart, as you process his words - Ragnvindr is so good to you, providing with everything you could ever ask of, and here you are, making him concerned and anxious over some silly daydreams. “It’s really nothing, I just need to be more attentive, that’s it”

You noticed that it’s harder for you to stay in the moment as you start to frequently space out, mind too occupied by the memories of days long past - playing with peers, entering Fatui, receiving a delusion. It’s a futile thing, but images still consume all of your attention and focus, keeping you from sleeping and eating.

“[First], I...” he starts, but then trails off, huffing to mask his hesitancy. Instead of talking he takes your face in one hand and leans in, his lips meeting yours. It's a slow and gentle kiss at first, but just like all other things with Diluc it quickly escalates into something more: his hands now take you by your waist and tug you closer to him, making you press with your entire chest against him, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue freely exploring the confines of your mouth as you moan into his from pleasure and such close proximity.

When you two part, Diluc leaves you flushed and dizzy, with heart quickly pounding against the ribcage. You feel a fire of arousal igniting inside of you, it travels from your chest to belly and soon spreads to the rest of the body. Your cheeks heat up as you stand up on tiptoes to whisper “Can we do it right now?” in Diluc’s ear, voice full of both shame and anticipation.

“Of course, my dear”, there are hints of a smile in his tone and he effortlessly lifts you up and heads for the bedroom and as he carries you you can’t help but zone out again, the memories of past days flashing in your mind.

***

Your first meeting happens during one winter night, as you receive the order to deal with him day prior, at a Harbinger meeting in the Zapolyarny palace. Eleven of you stay kneeling in the main hall, awaiting for Her Majesty to come in as Scaramouche and Tartaglia start to bicker as usual.

“I bet it’s about that mysterious person who’s destroying one stronghold after the other” Childe starts, voice full of bravado and smugness, fake smile blooming on his face: “Fortunately, Tsaritsa has me to take on whatever this stranger is”.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you, Tartaglia”, Scaramouche remarks, almost spitting out the last word.

“Why shouldn’t I? I am the youngest here, yet I am also the strongest. Why are you so upset? Feeling envious of my power?” Childe retorts, voice still sounding too cheery to be natural.

“If there was anything to envy. You may be the best at fighting among us, but it’s the only thing you are good at”.

“Huh, it seems I was wrong. Maybe little Scaramouche wants to be as tall as me and that’s why he spits out his funny silly slander”.

It must have struck the nerve, as Scaramouche snaps back with an angry tirade, from which their exchange escalates into a heated battle of barely hidden insults. You, just as the rest of other Harbingers listen to their conversation, half amused and half irritated, lifting the brows at the creative mockings.

“Silence”, domineering and overpowering voice says and you still yourself, eyes casted downwards, as Childe and Scaramouche stop their exchange at the same moment. Footsteps echo throughout the hall, as a feminine figure takes its place on a high throne in the middle of the hall. Tsaritsa has arrived.

“As I can see my children already know about the perpetrator attacking my servants” archon starts, divine power and absolute authority evident in each syllable. You feel how the deity’s eyes look at all of you, despite still keeping head bowed and stance obedient.

“Innamorati”, you hear your title and lift up your gaze, ready to take whatever order the Goddess has for you.

“I entrust you with this task, don’t disappoint me”.

***

Diluc is not a coward and he never was one, but now he can’t help but feel a pang of fear, looking at your approaching form.

“Let’s test our delusions, shall we?”, you almost purr, voice soft, silken smooth and full of unspoken threat. It sends shivers down his spine, yet he still equips this cursed thing and braces himself for the upcoming battle.

There’s a stillness in your moves, a confidence that whatever Diluc has in his arsenal, you can endure and answer with something deadly in return. This dangerous calm both disturbs and excites young Ragnvindr.

He lashes out on you with a stream of accursed chains, filling the air with the sickly sweet scent of mist grass. You easily side step his attack, letting out a cheerless laugh and then come back with a cold gust, frost air currents easily cutting through his skin.

He barely dodges the attack, slowly registering the pain from injury. It’s a shallow cut and a testament to your strength, Diluc thinks, as he touches the scrape, marvelling at your speed. In the end, Diluc can’t stand against you - you’re stronger, have more experience and infinitely faster than him, bringing down one overwhelming attack after the other, a catalyst shining and glowing as you do so.

He jumps and ducks and runs, avoiding one hit after the other, yet there's only so much his body can do. Soon his limbs grow heavier and his breathing labored, Diluc slows down and that's when your attack finally strikes him. It pierces his body, pools of blood quickly forming under him.

Diluc falls down, his battered body no longer able to stand. Memories and regrets alike flood his mind, reminding him of deeds he wishes he did and deeds he wishes he didn’t. He remembers his childhood - all daydreams and high hopes, the world around him bright and friendly. He remembers his father's dying face and Kaeya’s guilt-ridden expression. He remembers overwhelming helplessness and grief transforming into righteous anger and hate.

It all seems so pointless now - leaving the Mondstadt, breaking all bonds with Kaeya or spending years in a mindless massacre, satiating his thirst for revenge by destroying one Fatui stronghold after the other, with no regard for his body or spirit. What was the point of it all, if he's still there, lying and bleeding to death, as you look down on him?

He throws, what he thinks, the last glance at the world, a strange thought appearing in his mind as he looks at you: I want them. As Diluc's consciousness fades he misses a sound of an observer's footsteps.

Later, as he gets saved by the said third party’s observer, who commented and praised Diluc’s methods, he replays the encounter in his mind, getting confused at this particular thought. Why would he want you? Maybe he wants you to die or maybe he wants to see you defeated, but in no way he sees you as desirable. In the end he blames everything on his oxygen deprived brain at the time, explaining the strange attraction he felt for you at that moment.

Having a near death experience and a taste of his own dying regrets, he decides to return to Mondstadt and as he does, thoughts about you continue to pester him. They fly around and buzz, reminding Diluc of your face, eyes and voice, of your body and skills and that terrifying speed you attacked him at. He swats them away like a noisy, annoying flies, suppressing and burying feelings deep, deep down, and naming his interest in you “a desire for revenge and retribution”.

***

Your second meeting happens once the news of a sudden Stormterror attack reaches Tsaritsa’s ears - a perfect opportunity for acquiring anemo archon’s gnosis and a new step in her rebellion against Celestia. She thinks about sending La Signora at first, as your fellow Harbinger is fast and ruthless, able to complete a job no matter the cost, but soon archon changes her mind and picks you instead. For secrecy and subterfuge, she adds, don’t disappoint me.

I won't, you promise more to yourself than her, as Tsaritsa never asks but orders. With your head bowed in deep respect and the heavy gaze of the goddess on your form, you decide that you will do your best to bring cryo archon's vision into reality. You are dispatched to Mondstadt the same week, first by ship, then by carriage. Pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya quickly morph into bright Mondstadtian green, and you finally arrive.

Despite or maybe because of Mondstadt having almost nothing similar with Snezhnaya, it steals a breath from you for a moment - city stands on a lone isle in the middle of deep blue lake, tall windmills and bright red roofs seen from a distance, along with a giant statue of Barbatos blessing the city.

Acting Grandmaster Jean greets you, her stern blue eyes intently observing you, as she says standard Favonius salute and you return your own cliche lines - about Tsaritsa’s concern and a peacekeeping mission, empty phrases that don’t elaborate on what actually Fatui will do. She fails to suppress a frown upon hearing it, sensing your real intentions, but you pay it no mind - Jean has no way or reason strong enough to ban you from Mondstadt without causing a diplomatic conflict.

You turn on the heels after brief negotiations, heading for the Goth Grand Hotel, mind already full of plans and schemes of obtaining the Gnosis. Before you departed, Tsaritsa shared a very interesting fact to you - throughout the centuries Barbatos used only one mortal form, disguising himself as a young cheerful bard named Venti. You dispatch a couple of agents and cicin mage to look for a person fitting the description, and then turn your attention to the rest of the fatuis.

You scold Anastasia for unprofessional rudeness towards Jean. “We need to maintain a benevolent image”, you say to her, right before demoting her and temporarily sending her off to Dragonspine as a punishment. Under your rule fatuis cease sneering and belittling Mondstadt in public, lessening no doubt growing ire of locals.

All goes well, until several events happen. Stormterror attacks the city and some blonde foreigner fights off the dragon, wielding mind blowingly strong anemo powers and riding the wind, like a flying bird. Then your agents finally find a bard, reporting that “Venti" prefers to spend a considerable amount of both time and mora in two local taverns - Angel’s Share and Cat’s tail.

You don civilian clothing, heading for the former tavern and send off a couple of other disguised agents to the latter one. Now, stripped of your mask and harbinger attire, citizens stop gawking and staring at you, their eyes passing your form, as you make your way as an ordinary passerby.

No one pays you attention, as you enter the tavern, save for the strange six fingered bard at the entrance. He tries to sell you his performance, but you wave him off, heading for the bar. And here you see him again - you recognize the unknown attacker, his bright red hair and eyes betraying him the same second. Your faces mirror in recognition as a tense silence settles between you.

“So what is Fatui doing in this tavern?”he asks loudly and half of the customers stop drinking and stare at you. You sigh “enjoying” the atmosphere he created, and utter a premade excuse: “Mondstadt is known for its wine industry and the best wines are sold by Dawn Winery. It would be a shame if I left the city without tasting its finest drinks first”.

You glance at the red gem on his collar, an obvious heirloom of a famous clan: “Didn’t know that Ragnvindr heir would spend his days working as a bartender. You must be Diluc, then. Am I right?". He doesn't dignify you with an answer, preferring to wipe the glasses and serve other customers, his eyes still observing you from time to time.

You quit the tavern early, as “Venti”, as it turns out, leaves the same second he hears about your presence. You order agents to spy on him, waiting for the right opportunity to strike, that you don't get a chance to act on.

You get attacked by Diluc on your way to the Windrise tree, where according to your intel, Barbatos decided to go. He slowly pulls out his claymore and you notice a difference between old and current him.

He is calm this time, his movements lacking fervent hatred and anger that was present during your first battle. He must have gotten stronger then, if he feels so confident, entering a battle with you. Or grown foolish, your mind supplies.

You start to fight, exchanging one blow for another, as he surprises you - there's no barbed chains rushing into your direction, only an orange light fire surrounding the claymore. A pyro vision dangles on his waist, glowing and shining as he activates it's powers. You masterfully dodge his hits, shooting combined anemo and cryo attacks from the catalyst.

Suddenly you step on a burning grass, and hiss and close your eyes from the sudden pain. Diluc uses this time to disarm you, his heavy claymore crushing a delicate catalyst into small pieces. It happens so fast, that you are left speechless at the sudden turn of the battle tides.

With no weapon left, all you can do is dodge and run - you almost reach the city again. it’s walls become visible as you do your best to push your body beyond limits, fatigue weighing down on every muscle. Diluc sends a phoenix - a damn phoenix! - on your way. Fire licks your skin and scorches ends of your hair, but you manage to dodge it too - if only by a small chance - and fall to the ground, mind drifting off to the unconscious world.

***

You come up to your senses slowly and gradually; first there are sensations - a rough rope around your wrists, wet, yet rugged stone walls, then the smells, tastes and sounds - stale, musty air, a coppery blood on your tongue and a shift of a fabric, and then the images at last - dark basement and a bright red blotch, that after a time becomes a head.

There’s a man sitting beside you, Diluc Ragnvindr, your memory supplies. You feel calm and confused for a moment until you remember the fight you both had. Seems, he finally overpowered you.

“You are awake” he says, voice grim and quiet.

“It seems I am. Let me guess, you dragged me here because you want to know what this big bad harbinger plans to do?”. Control your breathing, don’t let him hear the tremble of your voice, don’t let him see the fear in your eyes.

He looks at you with an unreadable gaze and you hold his stare, looking absolutely untroubled in return, a knowing and somewhat self-confident smirk playing in your lips. No matter his status in Mondstadt, Diluc kidnapped you, one of the fatui Harbingers and a close associate of Tsaritsa. His action, no doubt, will force Fatui to severe action, an action that neither his nation nor his people will be able to withstand.

“Think bigger”, he finally says: “I don’t care what you planned to do. I already have you here, weak and helpless. No, what I want is intel on what your goddess and organization are after”.

“Oh, mister Diluc, you want to play a big game? It’s dangerous in case you didn’t know. Maybe after I tell you all of our wicked plans, you will wish you had never asked” you purr, sensing how it grates his nerves, despite him keeping his face and stance impassive.

“How so?”

“Tsaritsa is the greatest of all seven, her vision is absolute. Even if you learn of her plans I doubt you will be able to stop any of them”.

“I asked what the plans were, not what you think of cryo archon”. Diluc’s voice becomes a tone louder, the already present frown on his face subtly deepening.

“Then I am afraid you won’t get any from me”.

He suddenly gets closer to you, his hand yanking you by your head. You hiss, trying to free the bound hands, as he drags you to a nearby barrel with water by hair and then he dips you in it. You instinctively jerk in his hold, a cold water seeping in your nose and mouth as he holds you underwater. Ten second passes, twenty, thirty, you jerk again, your head throbbing and aching from the lack of air, he pulls you upwards.

You nearly black out from the abrupt change, gulping down in the air and coughing out water. He repeats his question and you deny him again. He dips you more, each time becoming a bit longer than the last, only to repeat his query. You lose how many times he lowered you into liquid, absolutely wet and shivering now, when he finally stops and ties you up to the same place you woke up to.

“We will continue tomorrow, I have business to attend to. I suggest you use this time to rethink whether you want to tell me Tsaritsa’s plans or not, as I can get much worse” He heads for the exit from the basement, as you greedily inhale the air.

“Wait”, you say, still breathing heavily: “Aren’t you afraid of the punishment? You kidnapped me, a harbinger, and then proceeded to torture me. Tsaritsa will have your head for this slight against her.”

“Tsaritsa won’t find out. Your Harbingers won’t find out. No one will find out if there’s no evidence”. He steps closer to you, his voice becoming firmer with each word.

“And how do you think you will manage to hide the evidence? You left the knights years ago, you are nothing but a businessman at this point. I doubt they will cover up for you”.

“How did..”

“Oh, Diluc, people talk and I am very, very nosy. That girl, Donna, she told so much to my subordinates about you ”, you mock her, imitating her high breathy manner: “Oh Diluc, he was the youngest captain, but then he left. I wonder why he left? Maybe the knights wronged him!”

“Honestly, with the amount of ire you subject poor knights to, only a deaf and a blind won’t know about how much you despise Favonius Order'', you continue, anger and hatred seeping into your voice.

“I still have connections”, he says absolutely nonchalantly.

“Oh, do you bribe them, then? You criticize the knights for being corrupt, yet you are willing to ask them to hide my abduction? It’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it?”

Diluc doesn’t answer this time, finally stepping out of the room and locking the door. You sit alone in a dimly lit room, water still all over you and heart quickly beating in your chest, trying to calm down. Later, when your heartbeat stops booming in your own ears, you pray to Tsaritsa, asking Goddess to grant you strength and endurance.

***

You manage to doze off once your clothes are almost dry. The dreams you see are vague and murky, dripping with a sense of unease and anxiety, you see dark silhouettes that morph into looming shadows that later transform into phantasmagorical monsters. It must be why you wake up the same second door opens with Diluc entering the room.

He looks grimmer now, more determined. You brace yourself for his hands tugging at your hair again and lungs burning from lack of oxygen, but none of it comes. He uses a dagger to slice your clothes off, careful not to damage skin underneath. Out of pure nerves you quip some stupid joke about dining first, but he pays you no mind, his hands soon touching your bare legs and looks at them with a filthy stare, his red eyes consuming revealed flesh.

You still under his stare, heart pounding as you try to distract yourself from the thoughts of what he might do to you right now. Almost a minute passes, when he finally stops staring at your legs and begins to move his arms, caressing your inner side of the thigh instead.

You shift from the discomfort, alarmed when his palms start to heat up. He wants to burn me, you think and barely stop yourself from screaming by biting your lip. A disgusting smell of burnt flesh fills up your nose as tears start to travel down your face. He removes the hand, revealing two angry red imprints with a collection of small blisters already forming. Diluc, again, asks the same question, and just like the last time you refuse to answer.

He does upkeep his threat of becoming much worse, with his hands burning your naked body - he targets sensitive spots or joints,so everytime you shift or move they throb and burn, disturbed at the smallest of motions.

“You're not the one to think about the consequences, are you?”, you ask when he finishes, voice quiet and raspy from screaming.

"No one will find you".

"I am one of the Tsaritsa's most trusted servants, of course they will find me", you pretend you don't hear desperation in your own voice.

"Time will show", Diluc says philosophically, looking as gentlemanly as possible despite him torturing you seconds ago.

"Yes, it will", you agree with him, picturing the bastard's face once he gets thrown in prison.

He leaves the room and you allow yourself to slump, careful not to move burned areas too much, and then he returns again, this time with food and medicine. He works fast at bandaging and disinfecting the burns, seems he is as intent at patching you up, as he is at tearing you apart. As he swathes another burn, you look at the brought food.

It’s unlikely he would drug it to make you tell the truth, given that he already tortures you and he doesn’t seem to be a type to play mind games. It still could be laced with poison though, not lethal one, that would be counterproductive, but the one that can cause pain and tremors all over your body. You’ve seen such substance at work once, when Il Dottore decided to show you the fruits of his experiments - victims were thrashing and shaking on the floor once a five minute mark had been passed, by the twentieth they already admitted to all crimes, regardless of how innocent they were.

It might be even a new torture method, devised by Diluc, just to strip you from the short respite when you are not in pain. He finally looks up to you, finishing the bandage, noticing the stare you look at the food with. "It's not poisoned" he guesses your thoughts, taking a small bite and a sip to prove his words. A minute passes, then the second and the third ones, nothing happens with him, no blushing or paling skin, no wide blown or pinprick pupils, nothing. It still could be a slow acting poison, but you doubt it - they're usually harder to cure, Diluc wouldn't willingly consume it given the long list of aftereffects that remain even after antidote was administered.

Thankfully, he doesn’t stay to feed you, leaving you with food alone. It’s a potato hash browns, absolutely unseasoned and cold. You almost swallow them whole from hunger, realizing how starved you are once the smell of food reaches you. After a day(?) of fasting, satiation hits you full force, drowsiness pulling at every muscle. The tableware he brought is metallic and easily bends, so you can't smash it and use sharp pieces, nor are there any utensils to weaponize. You lay down on the side, as something falls on you. It's a stone.

Your hands take it, feeling its shape - mostly smooth with one angular protrusion. It's not sharp or pointed enough for you to cut through the bindings, but with enough time and effort it can break the rope with friction alone. You begin to work, grating the rope again and again, fighting off the sleepiness.

***

Diluc nods to Adelinde, as he returns from Mondstadt after signing the contract with winesellers from Inazuma. She understands this wordless gesture, starting to talk: “The.. guest you brought has eaten, last time I checked they still were awake. I did my best to be quiet, master Diluc”.

He dismisses her, thanking for her observations and decides to go down himself. A strange sort of fascination fills him, as he turns the key in the lock, that also prompts a burning shame that he grew accustomed to in the last few days.

It’s an awful thing, to find pleasure in another’s suffering - a trait of a heartless monster, as his father once said, but despite the chagrin he still can’t help but feel a quickening of the pulse as a pained whimper escapes your lips. It’s addicting honestly, to have you of all people, naked and trembling and helpless at his total control, when you were so close to ending his life just a couple of months ago. He supposes it's a type of karmic punishment to you, a fatui harbinger, no doubt a killer and horrible person - you deserve it, he tells to himself - you deserve it for being a fatui.

Moreover, you are not only a terrible, terrible person that deserves much more gruesome torture that he allows, you are also a source of priceless information - how many lives will be saved and avenged if you just tell him what fatuis plan to do. You are a harbinger, you are bound to know something, unlike most of the fatui.

Diluc carefully glances at you as he enters - you are still sitting in the same spot he left you in, head slumped low and shoulders relaxed. It seems you are asleep. He still makes his way to you, steps slow and quiet. Your hands are bound with rope and Diluc knows how much the rough fiber pulls and chafes at skin, grating it to the blood and ropeburns - he needs to use this short respite to quickly disinfect and bandage you again.

Diluc crouches down, as you twitch and then something aims for his head, he flinches a second too slow to dodge. You nearly manage to hit him right in the temple. His head almost splits in half from the burst of pain, vision blurry and disoriented.

You quickly stand, enduring the pain from the burns and make your way to the room. Diluc runs after you, panic and anger distorting his face in equal manner - he can’t let anyone see you like that! - but you manage to lock him in using his own keys. He kicks and thrashes the door, angry at himself for not carrying claymore with him, as something loudly collides with the wall at the other side. He hears a short surprised yelp and whimper - your whimper and the too familiar footsteps descending down the stairs- Adelinde.

“Master Diluc? Is everything okay?”, the headmaid unlocks the room, concern in her voice:”I saw.. the guest running out of the basement, so I pushed them back before other maids could see”

“Everything is fine, check on the Harbinger, I still need intel”.

Turns out, you blacked out upon the impact, a small trail of blood making its way down the head. Diluc is still angry at you, head throbbing and hurting, his hands itching to hit and burn you, but he can’t allow himself to lose control: you are hurt and he doesn’t want to kill you.

In the end, it’s all predictable, Diluc muses, you are an animal first and human second, your allegiance testament to that. He was too soft, too forgiving on you and you decided to twist his kindness like a blade in the back. His head still hurts, but he finally calms, reasoning your attack as an outlash of a mindless beast.

He carries your limp body in hands, finally taking out of the basement and takes you to one of the guest rooms at the second floor of the winery - it’s a risky move, but you injured your head and in Diluc’s experiences such traumas almost always carry a great risk - maybe you will even forget who you are and there’ll be no one for Diluc to interrogate to.

Placing your body on the bed he clasps a cuff around each of your limbs and gags and blindfolds you. After a second, he asks Adelinde for cotton and stuffs your ears full of it.

Human mind stripped of all stimuli is such a dangerous thing, tearing itself apart.

***

You wake up to darkness and silence, head slightly pulsing from pain. You lie on some sort of very soft bed, silk smooth sheets consuming and hugging most of your body as you wiggle your limbs, tugging at the cuffs.

A small wave of panic washes over you, as you remain absolutely blind and deaf to the world, but you try to remain calm, unsure if Diluc is standing near or not. The bindings on your hands are made of iron now, so you soon stop, knowing it's a futile thing. The only thing you can do is wait.

You don't know how much time passes between you regaining consciousness and the air shifting around you. Having been stripped of both sight and hearing, your other senses became a bit sharper, mind focusing on them to compensate. It's a subtle change of pressure but you still feel it, it's enough for you to guess where this person stands. Suddenly hands grope at you, touching and probing the place near burns. You would scream if it wasn’t for the gag, from pain and violation alone. It's a smaller palms, judging by sensations, they change the bandages. After whoever that was finishes patching you they leave you alone, their departure evoking both relief and sadness - they were a source of stimulations, stimulations that your mind desperately needs.

You start to tug at the bindings again - this time to procure pain, just to feel something again. You are bored, you are in pain and you are scared - not the best combination. Soon, you decide to distract yourself from ever increasing boredom with memories. Images of your past life flash and change before you - here’s you playing catch and hide and seek, here’s you receiving a vision, here’s you entering fatui and climbing through the ranks, here's you receiving delusion from Tsaritsa’s own hands and here's you battling Diluc for the first time.

I should have killed him, you think, I should have spent less time talking and more time fighting, the bastard wouldn't live to see another day and I wouldn't be here.

A strange feeling of panic settles in your bones, as you try to occupy yourself, it's subtle but never ending, slowly growing with each second. You try to daydream but you can’t, not when you are cuffed and your body burns. You try to reminisce again, but you can do only so much, memories becoming dull and repetitive. Soon, the subtle panic becomes not so subtle and you realize you are gasping and thrashing, limbs achings as you rub them against the rough shackles.

You must have blacked out or drifted to sleep, because the next time you wake up you feel a bit different - a little cleaner and more sated - they tend to me, when I am unconscious you realize. Diluc wants to limit all interactions I have.

You don't know how much time you spend there in the end, but it has a profound effect on you - at first the concept of sharing fatui plans with your captor seems nonsensical and traitorous, but after a couple of days-weeks(?) of being chained to one place with limited movement and perception, it stops looking like such a bad idea to you.

Time distorts around you, you can't tell how long you were lying there, seconds turning into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into near eternities. At one point you started to cry again, scared and panicked and then you proceeded to scream.

***

Diluc comes to you again, taking out the cotton and blindfold from your person. Your eyes hurt and your head starts to ache again from the rush of noises, and you blink a couple of times to see the man before you. A strange mix of emotions washes over you - you hate Diluc, you truly despise him with every fibre of your being, yet now Diluc is the only person you have, the only person you see. It’s so confusing and overwhelming that you start to cry, unable to process any of the feelings.

Diluc looks as prim and proper as ever, as he shushes your crying and promises to let you go if only you will tell Tsaritsa’s plans. You almost believe him, Fatui secrets dancing at the tip of his mouth, yet you hold on to the pieces of your loyalty, slowly shaking your head. He asks you again, doubt and concern in his voice. It will be better if you tell me, he says, his hand still stroking you, don’t you want to walk and see again?.

His hand stops stroking you, face turning back to stone when you refuse him for the second time. He fixes blindfold and cotton again and part of you is howling - it’s scary, so scary to be left alone with nothing but your thoughts.

This time you start to break far faster, having tasted freedom for a mere second. You break down and tell Diluc everything you know next time he visits. His hand on you feels like salvation and punishment at the same time. At the end of your confession you are too empty, all of your secrets laid before him, no place for sadness or grief left inside of you. You feel whatever was inside of you was scorched off by Diluc and it left you thoroughly burnt. Dead. Made of ash.

“My name is [First]”, you wail and howl, shoulders slightly shaking as you do. You want so much to have some human contact, to hear someone call your name for once.

It’s cathartic in a way, to tell all the secrets your mind has been bustling with ever since becoming a harbinger. He doesn’t flinch or frown when you tell what exactly you witnessed or did, intently listening to each word.

He keeps his promise and uncuffs you from the bed, but you are still not allowed to leave the room, which doesn’t really disappoint you. There are books and a small barred window that opens a view to the wineyard, a feast for the starving mind. You spend at least an hour standing at the window at first, amazed that you can see people working.

He gifts you clothes and other books, assigns a housemaid to look after you, the same one that pushed you down the stairs when you were running away, she doesn’t speak to you, preferring to avoid your gaze.

Sometimes you do feel sad - you betrayed Tsaritsa, you betrayed your homeland, you lost both vision and delusion - but you quickly shove it down, unable to process feelings properly. You know you are defeated, having seen similar behavior from fatui prisoners, and Diluc knows it too, a malice and triumph and satisfaction burning on his eyes, despite the impassive face.

He sees you as a trophy, a reminder of how he reduced the great fatui harbinger to your current condition. He orders you around and punishes when you disobey, calls it reeducation, calls it teaching you how to be a decent person, calls it a punishment for your sins. A part of you wants to retort and point out his own failings, but you stop yourself at the root, unwilling to be stripped from the world again. You comply, you suppress, you break little by little. It all pleases him.

You learn to love what hurt you the most out of pure fear.

***

“First?”, it’s Diluc, shaking you slightly by the shoulders. You snap back to reality, seeing that he already carried you to bed and undressed you.

“I am here, you can continue” you whisper as he leans down to pepper your chest and collarbone with kisses, and then hiss as he bites you.

“Mhm, that’s good,” he says, warm hands traveling down to your thighs, caressing the inner side: “Could you spread them a bit?”

You obey, equally parts scared and excited.

Truly, Diluc is the best thing that happened in your life.

Note: All fatui harbinger names are taken from commedia dell'arte. Innamorati are a couple of lovers, madly in love with each other and with the idea of being in love. I thought it would be ironic.

#yandere diluc ragnvindr x reader #yandere diluc x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #Yandere genshin #Yandere diluc #yandere x reader #yandere #I am lowkey dissapointed in myself #Both reader and diluc are bad people #My sleep meds stopped working:((( #my writing

[pennylanewrites]

I got seven different asks about the College AU so here are some headcanons I have about them! (imagine aiura is in the picture I couldn’t find a good one with all of them)

I definitely didn’t mean to make this so long but I can’t help it I love them all so much<3

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

Saiki Kusuo

→ marine!!!biology!!!major!!!!!!!!

→ doesn’t need to study but he still does bc he finds marine life so fascinating

→ read all of his textbooks on the first day bc he was so excited eeeek

→ always wears his germanium ring in class so he can stay hashtag focused

→ him and aiura have to bail toritsuka(didn’t go to college) out of jail once a month

→ speaking of aiura, she somehow has convinced him to go on a date on five different occasions

→ i think after high-school he realised he didn’t mind a kind of casual not-relationship with her

→ lets her hug him to greet him and sometimes he hugs back bc college boys stare a lot and he is just worried for her okay?

→ maybe I’m just projecting bc I kin aiura

→ does not go to parties unless he absolutely has to

→ if he does go to a party he’ll drink something quietly in a corner, just watching the crowd

→ a perv laced Teruhashi’s drink and almost lured her up the stairs so of fucking course Kusuo sprinted to help her, holding her on the way home bc men are drawn to her like bees to honey

→ she didn’t let him live it down ever

→ he rented a studio apartment and keeps it super clean, minimum clutter but enough to look lived in

→ cooks amazing food that Nendo smells from upstairs and next thing you know, they’re all bringing chairs to Kusuo’s apartment and have dinner

→ nothing excuses the fact he makes at least eight servings every time–

→ such a dad to everyone honestly

→ usually studies at a library or teleports back home if there’s a big test

→ mrs. saiki was banned from visiting every two days but she still ends up there somehow

→ not that he minds bc he’s the biggest mama’s boy ever

→ probably graduates a year early

→ doesn’t move away even though he got a job at the aquarium at the other side of the city help–

Kaidou Shun

→ fine arts major you can NOT change my mind

→ doesn’t do good in theoretical subjects but mans can draw some good bowls of fruit

→ wears those stained from the paints t-shirts all the time bc ‘no they’re not dirty it’s art!’

→ him and aren have small designated spaces in their apartment so they can focus on their hobbies/studying

→ his corner at the living room has newspapers on the floor to protect it from the splattering paint, some canvases propped up on the wall and a lot of unfinished projects

→ hides all of them when Nendou comes over

→ can not cook or clean to save his life

→ so he calls his mum to help clean up when Aren is at work

→ got over his 8th grader syndrome at some point

→ still wears red bandages bc he’s edgy

→ volunteers at the neighborhood exhibit centre

→ got asked to showcase his own works for a night and hasn’t shut up about it since

→ goes to yumehara for relationship advice and braids her hair as a thank you

→ couples sleepovers with Yumehara and Teruhashi (yes they’re dating shut up)

→ always makes something for Aren at special occasions (birthdays, anniversaries etc)

→ at first he went back home every saturday bc he missed his family :(

→ Aren helps him get over it though!!!!

Nendou Riki

→ got in on a sports scholarship

→ we already know he couldn’t be accepted in a college otherwise

→ in the chiropractic major bc he wants to be one of those athlete doctors

→ has failed way too many exams and classes

→ Hairo helps him so much though!!!

→ the last one in the group to graduate but somehow gets a job first (excluding Saiki)

→ him and hairo get up at 5 am for jogging or to hit the gym

→ and then he goes and gets noodles bc ‘if noodles aren’t for breakfast why do shops open at 6 am?’

→ hasn’t stepped foot in class in months

→ he gets decent grades after failing the first semester and it’s totally not Saiki’s doing

→ he ends up signing up for way too many clubs

→ attends all of the meetings and has so many friends through them

→ I would be his friend too in college honestly

→ a fraternity wanted to get him bc he’s so good at sports

→ he declined bc he does not understand how fraternities even work

→ is the life of EVERY SINGLE PARTY change my mind you can’t

→ whatever you do don’t imagine nendo surprising his boyfriend with flowers after every practice

→ *dies cutely*

Kuboyasu Aren

→ SOCIOLOGY MAJOR

→ idk I just think he would enjoy Marx’s Capital

→ debate club? hell yeah

→ gets in philosophical conversations at the school yard for HOURS

→ kaidou has to drag him away

→ only shops at thrift stores and makes coffee at home bc “capitalism is not accepted in this household”

→ rides his motorcycle to college even though he lives five minutes away

→ grew his hair out in a mullet again and he looks *chef’s kiss*

→ thought he would be moving too fast if he asked Kaidou to rent an apartment together

→ aiura convinced him it was fine

→ cooks kaidou’s favorite foods every day

→ participates in student rallies, human rights protests etc etc

→ comes home with bruises and kaidou thinks he looks so hot but still yells at him

→ Aren’s favorite place to study is his balcony or at a coffee shop

→ always with kaidou! cute boyfriends who do everything together!!

→ gets so drunk when they go out

→ drunk karaoke with kokomi yes yes yes

Hairo Kineshi

→ did someone say Athletic Training?

→ does every single sport and is amazing at it

→ will cheer for his bf if they have a game at the same time though

→ it was his idea to move in together bc ‘hey we’ve been dating for three years now might as well’

→ volunteers at a nearby elementary as a coach for the kids

→ SO GOOD WITH KIDS

→ wants to be a P.E. Teacher and he’s going to be great at it

→ does everything he can at campus

→ helping random clubs, making posters, cleaning up the hallways, helping the cheer squad with their new routine

→ dances ballet as a hobby even though he’s so good at it that he could be a professional

→ makes everything a competition with Nendo so they never get bored

→ once made everyone get up to jog with them and they ended up sleeping on random benches while Hairo and Nendo were halfway across town

→ will punch someone if he sees them catcalling a girl

→ doesn’t drink at all and eats super healthy

→ designated driver for the group’s outings downtown

Aiura Mikoto

→ THEATER MAJOR

→ is so good at stage acting it’s unreal

→ lands the lead role almost every time

→ is also an amazing singer so she gets great roles in musicals as well

→ doesn’t have to get a job bc she gets all her money from doing readings on campus

→ gets coffees and pastries from all the coffee shops around campus and sits Kusuo down so he can taste them

→ they have a little taste-testing date in his apartment until they decide none of them are as good as the ones at Cafe Mami

→ she totally doesn’t make him teleport there every morning and he totally doesn’t listen to her

→ moved in with chiyo bc they wanted a nice place that they couldn’t afford on their own

→ teruhashi told them to move in with her but they already loved their little place

→ aiura’s bedroom is the most comfortable and cozy room ever

→ their apartment is also the hang out spot for the group bc it’s just so homey

→ hangs out with her theatre group a lot, especially after class

→ they can’t compare to her friends though:(

→ everyone goes to her when they’re worried and she loves it bc she’s the mummy of the group

→ she makes everyone coffee and their comfort food before big exams:)

Yumehara Chiyo

→ psychology major one thousand percent

→ you know how they say that people choose psychology bc they don’t know what major they want?

→ that’s exactly what happened except she fell in love with it immediately

→ such a good student!!!

→ always does her assignments on time and still manages to have a social life

→ teruhashi asked her out at the end of their first semester and that’s the first time chiyo missed a deadline

→ practically lives with teruhashi, insisting it’s just to leave aiura alone

→ she’s just IN LOVE OKAY?????

→ would want to be a sorority girl at first

→ changed her mind when she realized how much shit they all talked

→ her and kaidou drink wine and talk about their relationships and studies

→ she’s so sleep deprived it’s unreal

→ she doesn’t need sleep anymore though

→ coffee is her best friend

→ makes asks Aiura for readings twice a week

→ brings all her psychology friends home and they analyze their textbooks

→ once she got the hang of it, she decided to examine Kusuo

→ she told him he needs actual medical evaluation

→ he almost threw her out the window when she offered some Xanax for his nerves

→ chiyo is a neat freak one hundred percent

→ hates when Aiura throws everything on the floor, but she loves cleaning

→ opens her own office after school

Teruhashi Kokomi

→ PRE-MED

→ lesbian doctor :)

→ just wanted to get away from her perv brother at first

→ she always wanted to be a doctor though, preferably a neurosurgeon

→ she’s super duper smart and hates when she gets good grades bc of her good looks:(

→ makes it her goal to show her professors that she’s more than a beautiful girl

→ hasn’t failed a single exam

→ helps everyone with their studies even though she’s drowning in work

→ drops the perfect girl image at college and decides she should try and aim for something normal

→ gets invited to every single party

→ in a knitting club bc it would get disbanded without one more member

→ knits!!!matching!!!sweaters!!!for all of her friends!!!

→ asked Chiyopipi out while drunk

→ never regretted it though

→ her and aren get so drunk when they go out with the group

→ it’s honestly unreal how much they can drink before passing out

→ has to get carried home

→ wakes up after getting drunk and runs to her class before remembering it’s Sunday

→ her penthouse has the perfect view of the sunset and sunrise and is all she could ask for in life

→ does get lonely so she’s practically living with Chiyo and Aiura

→ once she realized she didn’t like boys she made it her goal to get Saiki and Aiura together

→ people wonder how she has so much time to play matchmaker and volunteer while she’s in premed

→ does her internship at a hospital

→ ends up working there as a neurosurgeon after her Doctorate degree

~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~

#saiki kusuo no ψ nan #tdlosk #saiki k no psi nan #saiki kusuo #nendou saiki k #nendou riki #kaidou headcanons #kaidou shun #kaidou x aren #saiki k headcanons #teruhashi #teruhashi kokomi #aiura mikoto #yumehara chiyo #nendou x hairo #hairo kineshi #aren x shun #aren kuboyasu #saiki k #Kusuo #college au #anime headcanons #anime fluff #the disastrous life of saiki k. #tdlosk headcanons