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#do not eat the forest soup
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i thought maybe the swtor fever had abandoned me forever but i'm standing at the cash register going crazy over kotfe-era sav again
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There are a couple forest preserves near my job, which is amazing because right after my shift I can head to one of them and get my steps for the day while appreciating nature.
Today I decided to go to a new, unfamiliar one, with many trails and parking lots. At first it was lovely. Gorgeous scenery... The signs and trail markings were a little inaccurate, but whatever. I had plenty of time to find my way out.
Two hours later I was ready to head out, but the preserve had other ideas. I couldn't find the lot I had parked in. I wandered, read signs, to no avail. Google Maps misunderstood me, and took me miles in the exact opposite direction of where I needed to go before I realized. Would you like to know how I realized?
The lot I'd parked in was on a busy road, and finally I heard a busy road! I stepped out of the woods to find a road I was familiar with... At least three miles from where I had parked. Now it was getting dark, so I could either try my luck in the preserve again or I could follow the familiar but dangerous route along the highway.
I chose the highway.
It was terrifying ngl. Many many cars got a bit too close to me. And I still had miles to go.
I'd like to note that this was about 7pm. I've been awake since 6:15am. In that time I had eaten two cheese sticks, about five fries, a large Coke and a few sips of an iced coffee. No water. And I was coming up on 18,000 steps.
Then I heard a car beeping at me. I thought it would be either a cop or a serial killer. Thankfully it was neither! It was two of my coworkers who had noticed me on the side of the road. They gave me a ride back to my car and saved me from a likely death under the wheels of a semi.
It was such a lovely forest preserve, but I feel like maybe it wanted to trap me and kill me. So I obviously have to go back when I have water and maybe some trail mix, and way more time to find my way out.
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cartchytuns · 10 months
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i just keep rotating my ocs in my head
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iiping · 10 months
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kaveh snapping at alhaitham for buying another ugly wood carving… except he forgot it was his birthday 👀
read my short fic on twitter here or see more below! 🫶
“This looks absolutely nothing like me!” Kaveh snaps at the rough-out Aranara carving that suddenly shows up one morning, looking so blonde and angry.
Alhaitham comes out of his room at this moment and walks over to their common shelf where the architect stands.
Kaveh has a meeting with a particularly frustrating client today and he’s feeling so anxious that he cannot help but snaps at Alhaitham too, “How many times do I have to tell you not to bring ugly wood carvings into our home!?”
Alhaitham looks at Kaveh, his lips tightens. Something unfathomable flashes across his eyes and disappears just as suddenly.
“Do whatever you want with it then,” Alhaitham says finally after an awkward silence. Then he grabs his key from the shelf and turns his back to walk towards the front door without saying another word.
Kaveh looks at him leaving the house in puzzlement. It is not a rare occasion to see the Scribe not bothering to argue with him but Alhaitham never walks away after saying only one sentence before. He looks as if he’s angry or even…pouting? Kaveh is not sure if that word can describe Alhaitham.
Maybe Kaveh did something wrong? He gasps at the thought.
Is it because the smell of the cream soup he made yesterday was too strong? Or maybe it was the fact that the house is now so messy because he’s in the middle of tidying up things? Or maybe he moved or touched some books he wasn’t supposed to?
Kaveh ends up thinking for the whole day. He even spaces out during the client’s meeting and almost drops the model when he tries to present his plan.
He thinks and thinks but nothing comes to his mind. They have been on unusually pretty good terms lately, so he cannot think of something recent that might have made Alhaitham upset.
Kaveh is so deep in thought he almost bumps into Collei on the way home.
“Ah! Sorry!” Kaveh exclaims then realizes who it is, “Collei! I didn’t know you were in town today!”
Somehow, the trainee Forest Ranger looks shocked to see him. She quickly picks up something that fell to the ground when they bumped into each other earlier. Kaveh catches a glimpse of a small green box with yellow ribbon before Collei swiftly hides it behind her back.
“It’s so good to see you! Wanna grab something to eat?” Kaveh asks, ignoring her suspicious behavior. He’s not ready to go home just yet, not when he still hasn’t figured out what he did wrong.
“Uh, sorry I have somewhere to be today,” Collei replies nervously, avoiding to meeting his eyes, “If you will excuse me, I really need to get going.”
Then she takes off before he can say another word.
Kaveh ruffles his hair in confusion. What is going on today?
After wandering around aimlessly for a while, he decides that he has no other place to go except the good old Lambad’s Tavern.
He sits down at a table and orders a drink even though it’s merely 5PM.
“Hey, Kaveh!” Lambad shouts his name from behind the counter, “That one’s on the house! Happy Birthday!”
Oh. Shit.
A realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning.
“How could I forget!” he cries, standing up abruptly, “It is my birthday!”
He tells Lambad that he’ll take a raincheck on that glass of wine before leaving the tavern. Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can and finds Alhaitham standing in front of the shelf with the Aranara carving on one hand and a bag on another.
Alhaitham raises his eyebrows when he sees Kaveh practically flying from the front door.
“No, wait—-“ Kaveh tries to catch his breath, “D-don’t throw that away!”
“Oh?” Alhaitham puts down the Aranara and turns to face the architect. “Seems like you finally remember something.”
“Sorry for what I said this morning,” Kaveh blurts out, “I know it sounds like an excuse but that client’s project kept me frustrated all night and I shouldn’t have taken it on you.”
Alhaitham looks at him silently.
“Alright, alright,” Kaveh puts two hands in the air, “I apologize for calling it ugly.”
The Scribe lets out a chuckle right this second. It is clear that he does not intend put up any fights with Kaveh on his birthday.
Alhaitham hands him the Aranara in question and asks, “Will you also stop calling my other wood carvings ugly?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Kaveh replies with a beaming smile. His eyes light up as he takes the wooden figure in his hands.
Alhaitham gives him birthday presents every year but they are usually books or drafting tools. This is the first time Kaveh has received something custom-made. Well, from anyone, really.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning,” he mumbles, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. “Sure, it looks a bit cruder than that one in your bedroom which I kind of like, but the more you look at it, the mor—- Hey!”
“I changed my mind,” Alhaitham announces with a straight face, the Aranara is now back to his hand. “I’m taking it back.”
Kaveh blinks.
“What did you just say!?” he raises his voice.
“I don’t see any reasons why it should be in the possession of someone who doesn’t appreciate it,” he replies simply while putting the wooden figure in the bag, then starts to walk to the entrance hall.
“How do you know I don’t appreciate it!?” Kaveh follows him, trying so hard not to yell at his back, “This is ridiculous! You just gave it to me literally a second ago!”
That does not make Alhaitham slow down one bit. In the heat of the moment, Kaveh charges at him without thinking.
Next thing he knows, they are both on the floor with Alhaitham being beneath him. He quickly snatches the bag from the Scribe’s hand and sits up.
“Ha!” Kaveh exclaims, raising it in the air in victory. “You cannot walk away from me this time! Don’t you know that it’s rude to take back what you have given!?”
When there isn’t any response, Kaveh glances down, only to see that Alhaitham is covering his face laughing.
Kaveh looks at this scene in disbelief.
“Were you just teasing me!?” he asks with a high-pitched voice, “Oh my god, who are you? What have you done to my Alhaitham?”
“I couldn’t help,” he is still laughing, “You should’ve seen your face.”
It’s extremely rare for Kaveh to see a silly side of Alhaitham, let alone seeing him laughing like this. Kaveh stares dazedly at him, completely forgetting why he was mad in the first place.
“You can have the Aranara,” Alhaitham says with a smile, “Will you get off me now? Although I don’t really mind—-”
Kaveh interrupts this sentence with a cough, just realizing what a dangerous position they are in. He shifts to move out of the way, but at this moment, a small piece of paper falls of the bag and lands on Alhaitham’s chest.
The Scribe’s eyes widen as he moves to reach for it, but Kaveh is quicker.
Seeing what’s on there, he is speechless.
Alhaitham covers his face again, but his ears are turning visibly red. The worse thing is, Kaveh can also feel his face burning too.
“You carved this,” he asks softly, “for me?”
After a while, Alhaitham admits with a sigh, “Yes.”
Kaveh is dumbfounded. He assumed that it was merely a commission. Never has he ever thought Alhaitham would go that far to do something like this for him.
“That’s why you’ve been coming home late for the past week!” Kaveh just remembers how unusual it was when he said that he needed to work overtime.
“You knowing this wasn’t part of the plan, I was too careless.” he says flatly and decides to pull himself up, unintentionally getting closer to Kaveh. “Now it’s good time for you to forget you have seen that workshop receipt.”
“Nuh-uh,” Kaveh pokes his chest, “This Aranara is now worth a million mora to me.”
“You have just burdened yourself with a new enormous debt then” Alhaitham teases.
“Hey!”
“I think wood craving has grown on me.” Alhaitham smiles, “So I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with these ugly figurines for now.”
“Come on, they are not that ugly,” Kaveh chuckles, “But we do need to set up a proper corner for them so they don’t disrupt the current aesthetic.”
The Scribe can’t help but roll his eyes at this comment.
“Seriously though, thank you” Kaveh softly touches his shoulder and looks directly into his eyes, “It’s the first time someone did something so special for me. I will always treasure it.”
The Scribe stares back at him and without a warning, Alhaitham pulls him into his arms and whispers to his hair, “Happy Birthday, Kaveh.”
After that, Collei, along with Cyno and Tighnari, burst open their front door right when they are still hugging in the hallway. Kaveh’s face turns as red as a tomato as Alhaitham helps him up on his feet.
The night cannot be more perfect. The house is filled with the smell of good food, laughers and joy. His most favorite dishes are laid out on the table and the gifts are waiting for him to open. Wine never tastes better and even Cyno’s jokes are funnier than usual.
Kaveh watches as everyone starts to eat and cheerfully discuss about what games they are going to play tonight. His heart aches a bit thinking of how much he does not want to ever lose this; his friends, his happiness, his home.
And when his eyes accidentally meet with Alhaitham’s, he cannot help but wonder, would things turn out differently if he hadn’t met the Scribe at the tavern that night where he had taken Kaveh in?
He tries harder now to stay happy, to actually listen to some of Alhaitham’s advice, the sensible ones at least.
“Don’t burden yourself with something unnecessary from the past and from the future”, he would say.
So instead of dwelling on the past regrets and unknown future, Kaveh thinks he is ready now to find comfort in the present happiness.
(END)
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iosagol · 4 months
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The Boy and the Heron, lads
*lying facedown on the sofa*
Spoilers, all the spoilers
So can we talk about the cyclical nature of life and death
The way the past and future are linked to one another and just because the past doesn't get to be the future, it doesn't mean that's bad
"In the future I am dead," Himi says, essentially. "I am not afraid. You have seen me as I want to be remembered, and I have left books for you to open and leave open, and even though I'm not going to be alive anymore, I once was, and I loved you."
The fact that Himi's little sister is no more recovered from the grief than Mahito
she's grieving too over her sister, but her sister's husband is now her husband and did she really want this to happen? and she's having this baby
It's a lot to handle because someone she loves just died and right after this she's bringing a new life into a vicious world in the middle of this war
And she has this boy now that looks like her sister
so she goes into the forest looking for that peace that isn't at home
and just she's lying in that room with those circling…. fans? Fans made of bandages(?) just spinning around her it's a cycle of hurt and patching up wounds and getting hurt again and patching up wounds until her stepson is webbed in it and she's webbed in it and both of them are so in pain and trying to patch up their wounds and it doesn't do them any good
The fact that in order to find his mom, our boy Mahito has to go into the Secondary/Underworld and he has to get a fish and he has to survive and draw water and go looking for this woman and descend into the abyss and come out again and he has to shun power
It gives Spirited Away, almost, except Chihiro had to learn to mature in the sense that she had to consider others and respect and learn manners
she has to respect others
meanwhile Mahito has to learn to forgive himself for not saving someone he loves
he has to respect himself and stop hurting himself and be open to love again
So he's just... Living, for the most part, it seems. He's gutting that fish and eating jam and butter on bread and also soup and he has to bicker with Heron and drink tea and steer a boat and observe the complexities of life and death
He's living and healing
But really, there's no balance to the Secondary/Underworld the greatuncle made because he wanted every creature to thrive within it
And if all you have is life on top of life, then creatures are going to start killing each other
The pelicans are starving because the fish can't be eaten, they turn on the waro-waro, the humans rush to protect the waro-waro, both sides are burned
happiness for one and all is competitive, it's cutthroat
The fact that coming home looking scraped isn't enough, Mahito has to slam a rock into his head
He says it's to prove he fell down, but really that's the biggest mark of human violence
And he does it to himself maybe because he's just so angry with himself for being alive and well, while his mother isn't, and he needs to level that playing field to feel better
Self-flagellation
The overboldness of the dad, how he packs all his human gear and tries to elbbow his way into the Fae and it does him no good
how he tries to solve his kid's problems by again elbowing his way in and that also does nothing
The fact that our boy Mahito realizes something is wrong with the old ladies on sight
something about them is very inhuman
when he first sees them the look on his face he knows something is up because he's meant to go into Faerie and he doesn't have the preconceptions of the adults and he has to see the signs
I ugh
Ugh it's so beautiful, all of it
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m1d-45 · 7 months
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i love your sagau/imposter au fics so much (esp kazuha’s),, do you think nahida would be able to sense if the creator isnt an imposter because of her having access to Irminsul and being able to see if there are records of them? anyways okok so uh hear me out, maybe the creator tries to seek safety in sumeru while they’re being hunted? sorry if this is a lengthy ask ekwjkwm anyways thanks for reading, ur amazing !
sandy refuge
word count: 3.4k
-> warnings: spoilers for the final sumeru archon quest
-> gn reader (you/yours)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr
< masterlist >
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sumeru was a deadly nation.
liyue was guarded by the adepti, and inazuma’s storms tore the sea around the archipelago to shreds, but sumeru…
sumeru, the land of wisdom, headed by academics and led by scholars and sages. the nation split in two, lush forests barely a stones throw from barren deserts, believers of two (three?) separate gods walking side by side through the city. for a nation so divided, it was rare to get everybody to agree on something, every decision inevitably and invariably leaving some group of people unsatisfied.
and yet, there they were, united under one flag. eremites and the matra, the beige robes of the desert dwellers shifting in the wind besides the glittering armor of the akademiya’s soldiers, spears and swords aligned towards the same target.
it would be beautiful, if only you weren’t the one they rallied against.
you didn’t know how long you had been running when you managed to work your way past the wall, nor how long you had managed to stumble across sand dunes before finding your current oasis.
literally. trees swayed around a large pool of clear water, thick grass cushioning your knees as you barely hesitated before cupping some in your hands and drinking. it was blessedly cool, and you were tempted to swim in it and let it soothe the continuous heat from the desert sun. sadly, you didn’t have a spare set of clothes, and you weren’t keen on stripping when the matra could storm the place at any moment.
or the eremites. or the corp of thirty. or literally anybody else, since you’ve apparently been declared public enemy number one.
you splashed some water on your face and over your head, goosebumps rising where a drop raced beneath the collar of your shirt. how water was so cold when the sand was so hot, you didn’t know, but you weren’t going to complain.
after drinking a few more handfuls of the water, you finally looked around. there was a large spire of stone next to the oasis, flanked by large trees, with a thankfully abandoned hilichurl hut beside it.
you try not to think about how an archer would have had an easy shot as you were drinking.
at the base of a few of the trees is something green, and you remember the nuts that grew in the desert. you were too wary of the henna berries and the cacti they grew on to try and eat those, but you distinctly remember these being used in a few recipes.
all you could do was hope they were edible raw.
you stood—your vision blurred, the ground tilting, but you ignored it—and walked around the oasis, inspecting the green and hoping it wasn’t a fungus.
good news, it wasn’t. bad news, it was the husk of one of the nuts, hollow without any of the fruit inside. fresh, by the looks of it, the green leaves squishing instead of crumbling when you kicked at them.
great.
you sat on the curved trunk of one of the trees, holding up a hand to shade your eyes as you looked up. you could see another nut, hanging off the top of a tree, but.. the bark of the trees were smooth, and any of your athletic abilities were worn away by exhaustion and malnutrition.
you let your head drop and tried not to focus on your hunger, instead inspecting the mix of sand and grass beneath your feet. sand and grass. all of sumeru, represented right at your feet. hot, slippery sand, and cool, spiky grass. the desert and the forest, two wildly different ecosystems, and yet… both drove you out.
you tried not to cry, to push away the helplessness of the situation, but you couldn’t. what had you done, you wondered, for your very face to cause such an uproar? for two separate groups of people, divided in location, name, and faith to ally in their shared hatred of you? if somebody asked you what the millelith, matra, and eremites had in common about six months ago, you couldn’t have answered. you’d have thought about it, maybe, but drawn a blank outside of ‘defenders.’
but what were they defending? and how were you a threat?
when the first tear fell, so did something else.
you jumped at the dense thud, digging your nails—overgrown, bitten at, broken—into the bark as you searched for the source of the noise.
a large fruit had fallen, the one you were eyeing earlier by the looks of it. it sat atop the empty husk of another, magically fallen from the tree by seemingly nothing.
you weren’t going to complain.
you slid off the tree, reaching for the nut, grabbing the stem and pulling, but dropped it just as fast. a fungus was standing just behind it, large orange eyes looking up at you.
you were frozen. would it attack you? was it trying to eat? did they even need to? could you get sick from fungus spores? even if you couldn’t, getting hurt wasn’t worth the meal…
the fungus tilted to one side, then the other, bumping the large fruit towards you.
it… was giving it back?
you stared, but the fungus didn’t move. when you carefully tugged at the nut, slowly drawing it closer so you could properly pick it up, it didn’t move. it just watched you, the rim of its cap slightly falling into its eyes.
you sat back on the tree, pulling it into your lap. the outer leaves were coarse, softening as you pulled away the many layers. there was a high chance some of the inner leaves were edible, but you didn’t want to take chances. the fruit itself was a pale green, easily tearing under your fingers. it was soft, with the barest edge of sweetness that had you prying up more. it wouldn’t make for a full meal, but it was certainly far better than nothing.
you checked on the fungus every once in a while, but it just stood there. by your guess, it was the floating anemo kind, but where was its group? fungi rarely appeared alone, and part of you felt bad.
(felt bad. for a fungus. you’re in dirty, torn clothes and on the run for your life, and you still find the empathy for a fungus. at least you knew your morals were still intact.)
you offered a piece of the nut to the fungus, but it didn’t react. instead it turned, floating into the air and drifting away.
…alright.
you try to eat the fruit slowly, as to not make yourself sick, taking breaks to sip more water from the lake to dim the sweetness. you didn’t know how long the fruit would stay good now that you’d opened it, but you were trying to enjoy it. its not as if you were overflowing with excess, and you likely couldn’t linger here long. you don’t even know why you resorted to the desert anyway.. between cyno, the ruins, scorpions, the primal constructs.. to say it was dangerous was an understatement. even if you made it to the far west, the pari were there, and you didn’t think they would take too kindly to you. fontaine wouldn’t be much better, provided you somehow crossed the sea around it…
nowhere was safe. you supposed that was the point, that nobody would give you refuge, but it still hurt. you didn’t think you’d ever land in this situation when you first downloaded the game..
whatever. you’re not going to go down that path for the nth time. you hold the remains of the nut in one arm as you stand, picking off chunks as you walk toward the hilichurl hut. with any luck there would be something useful inside, or at least be a safe place to rest temporarily.
the camp looks like it’s been clear recently, which is both good and bad. good, because neither hilichurls nor patrols should come by here for a bit, but bad because it lowers your chances of finding anything useful. there’s no arrowheads or vegetables, not even embers in the fire pit, all the supply boxes long since broken.
at least it’s shelter. at least you had food today, and (hopefully) clean water. small wins, small wins…
you gather your strength and begin to drag all the rubble into the hut, using what was left of their training dummies to make a hollow pile. hopefully it would just look like trash to anyone walking by, and could maybe keep you warm. the scraps of furs littered over the camp were matted with something you didn’t want to think about, so this was your best bet.
man, you missed your bed.
you returned to the oasis for more water, scrubbing off some of the dirt from your arms and face. you wouldn’t be clean for long, what with the dirt floor you’d picked as your shelter, but it felt nice. a topical fix for a bone deep wound.
you didn’t try to clean your clothes, eyeing the sun dipping in the sky. having wet clothes wouldn’t help at night, even if it might feel good. perhaps tomorrow? yes, tomorrow. tomorrow you could scrub at your shirt—*blood doesn’t clean easily without soap*—and try to undo some of the knots in your hair, maybe even use leaves and some of the scraps of twine around the camp to bring some water with you.
tomorrow. you got this. surely.
(just ignore the fact that you don’t know where in the desert you are. or how easy it would be to get lost, or dehydrate. nope. this is a perfectly fine and normal situation that you have an okay amount of control over. you got this. you have to.)
you return to the hut, retrieving the other half of your fruit and taking it with you into your pitiful shelter. at least you didn’t have to worry about rain…
it was only slightly cramped beneath the pile of junk, but you had enough room for you and your food. you laid there for a long time, occasionally peeling off pieces to eat. you didn’t know how much was left, and you didn’t think about it, distracting yourself by thinking about tomorrow. if you were clever with some sticks you could fashion some wider soles for your shoes to get more grip on the sand, or maybe a hat to keep from burning… but there was water and food to worry about, but the area along the wall was certainly dangerous, but it might be worth it if it meant you lived a little longer…
you fell asleep at some point, the faint sweetness of your dinner lingering on your tongue.
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normally, waking up to someone barely a foot from your person would be unsettling. in your situation, it was terrifying.
you immediately pushed yourself back, crawling backwards away from nahida. she was kneeling, seeming surprised at your actions. you almost wondered how she was out here, and in your survey of the area, it clicked.
you weren’t in the hut anymore. you’d missed it in your fear, but you were lying on grass, in a small meadow. you didn’t pay too much attention to it though, putting a hand to your chest to try and calm your heart.
“just a dream,” you breathed, and nahida’s expression fell. not into anger, more.. sadness?
“i’m sorry if i startled you.” her voice was soft, but flat, motions stiff as she stood up and dusted off her dress.
what a weird dream. first you’re lucid, then she’s here… maybe it was wishful thinking. maybe your brain had finally had enough.
“it’s fine,” you said, taking another look around the field. tall trees arched high above you, the bushes and ferns between them reminding you of the rainforest. in the center were three chairs, with various plates laid out on the table between them. you stood, automatically wiping for any grass caught on you, only to find that you were actually wearing clean clothes again—one of your favorite outfits, actually.
you mostly ignored nahida as you walked to the table, looking over the various dishes. you recognized a few as sumeru recipes, but not all of them, deciding to pick at a bowl of fruit instead. you’re not sure how dreams work here—you haven’t had many since coming to teyvat—but it feels safer to stick with a food you’ve actually tried before.
(you ignore the nut from the oasis. calculated risk.)
“i hope they’re to your liking?” nahida’s voice is hesitant as she comes to your side, sitting in one of the chairs. you don’t do the same.
“i’m surprised i remember so many of these,” you say instead, looking over the sheer variety of food laid out. your subconscious has done well.. almost a bit too well.
“eat. you need the energy.”
“i’ll just miss them in the morning, and it’s not like they’ll give me any actual nutrition.”
“…please, my god.”
your head whips to her in an instant, the fruit falling from your hand as if it was poison. it could be, considering everything.
even after all these months, you’d let your guard down. in front of the one god who had control over dreams, you ate of her food and showed that you were weak.
nahida raises her hands, and you have half a mind to grab a knife off the table. it wouldn’t do anything, but it would make you feel better. “it’s just me. there’s nobody else in this dream.”
you should have known better. “leave me alone.”
“i mean you no harm, i only-“
you put your hands over your ears and close your eyes, trying to make yourself wake up. you pictured the walls of the hut, of your makeshift shelter and the leaves of last night’s dinner. you pretend you can’t hear her voice, that the only sound is the whisper of the wind.
if only you’d remembered her powers quicker, or perhaps discovered yours sooner.
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you don’t know how long it took you to break free from the dream, or if you managed to break it at all. you just knew that you woke up to the sounds of talking from outside your hut, the words were faint but still discernible from the wind. two voices, one soft and one rough, picking their way around the oasis.
you didn’t dare try to run, instead shifting some of the wood in your pile to cover the entrance. where could you even go if they found you? west was dangerous, east was deadly, north led you into either a sandstorm or a dead-end sea, and south was entirely uncharted, and that was assuming you even made it that far.
they came closer, and you reached for one of the smaller planks in your small shelter. it was still about the length of your forearm, and though the rest of the stack shifted, you felt a bit safer. maybe you could hide in a cave for a while until they left? no, that would mean you’d have to get enough of a lead to lose them, and you doubted you could run that fast.
“-abandoned.” there was a sound like a rock kicked against the side of the hut, covering the sound of your breath as you recognized the voice. “you sure this is the right place?”
wanderer.
“i’m certain, i saw it myself.”
and nahida. she probably tapped into your mind to see where you were trying to wake up to… it would be clever if your life wasn’t on the line.
footsteps drew ever closer, and it was getting hard to judge the distance. the hut was empty save for your little scrap pile, but how close was too close? could you even have a chance with wanderer’s skill? not to mention the dendro archon…
maybe you were doomed from the start. there was no good ending for you, just a constant delay of the fate that you dodged when you first set foot on this planet.
how long has it been? how much time have you borrowed? teyvat had ghosts, would you become one? would you return to earth? did your earth even exist anymore? this was not the time for this debate…
a shadow moved, and nahida’s voice was far closer than it was before. “divine one?”
you bit your cheek as to not laugh. ‘divine one.’ she already had a god, the one that had ordered this mess to begin with. the first person you ran into, ironically, who had on sight declared you a criminal. you didn’t want to be associated with that person at all, thank you. did she think that you thought you were the god? you wouldn’t be hiding if you did.
“buer. you’re talking to a pile of sticks.”
“i’m aware.” her voice grew quieter, like she’d turned around. “but we need to be patient.”
“there’s an easier way to do this, you know.”
“after all that’s happened? there’s no easy solution to this.”
“that’s not what i…” he sighed. “can i show you something?”
“what is it?”
the air hissed, your pile broken by a blade of wind down the middle. the anemo curved around you, acting as a shield as the wood splintered and flew. you quickly pushed yourself up, sitting against the wall and looking between the two of them. nahida looked terrified, and the shock on wanderer’s face is comical. looks like he didn’t expect you to actually be in there.
he removed his hat from his head, quickly dropping to one knee, nahida doing the same barely a moment after. “my god.. i apologize for my haste.”
pardon?
nahida lifted her head, meeting your eyes with a hand to her chest. “and i’m sorry for invading your dream earlier. i just wanted to find you, and when i noticed you were in sumeru..”
wanderer is too prideful to apologize to anybody he doesn’t absolutely need to, even for a plan.. jut what’s going on here?
you fix your attention on nahida and hope she’s not a good liar. “don’t you already have a god you follow?”
nahida flinched, looking away. “that… was a mistake. i should have trusted my instincts, and for that i’m sorry. i had no idea that my silence would lead to this…”
either she’s a really convincing actor, or she means it. given the severity of the situation, you don’t want to assume.
“if it helps…” wanderer’s hands tighten on his hat, and he bows his head further. “my anemo protected you. even if i did mean to cause harm, that is more than enough proof of your identity.”
“…so i’m supposed to believe you? just like that?”
nahida shook her head. “i understand your apprehension. it’s hard to trust someone after everyone else has betrayed you, and i don’t expect you to come with me to the sanctuary right away. aaru village is close by, though, and i was hoping you would be willing to go there..?”
some part of you still thinks it’s a trick, that there would be a swarm of matra waiting for you. but honestly… running is tiring, and nahida is kind. you want to believe her, even if it does end up going poorly. what else do you have to lose, really?
you drop your poor excuse for a weapon, briefly checking your hands for splinters before standing up. you kick aside the remains of your dinner and dust yourself off, walking forward. “alright. i’ll go with you.”
nahida beams.
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seattlesellie · 10 months
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⋆˙ ♡ b l u e b e r r y p i e ♡⋆˙
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pairing: farm!ellie williams x fem!reader
an: drabble based on a small request but i cannot find it ᥫ᭡
warnings: smut (mdni), daddy kink, housewife kink, slight spit play, dom!ellie, sub!reader
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ellie's breath hung in the frigid air, visible puffs of white against the backdrop of the forest. the thick layer of snow muffled her steps as she treaded cautiously, her boots sinking with each weighty stride. she gripped her bow tightly, fingers calloused, the biting wind whipped through the trees. she scanned the landscape with piercing eyes, hoping to spot even the faintest trace of movement. but the forest, remained still, its inhabitants hidden away. ellie's grip tightened on the bow, her resolve strengthening amidst the disappointment. she wouldn't return empty-handed; she wouldn't let her promise slip away like the snowflakes that melted against her heated skin.
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the sound of her boots stomping against the floor enter the house before she does. you hear her steps, as she paces on the entryway— right on the porch. she takes a deep breath, opens the door and it creaks. it fucking sucked out there, it was bone chilling cold, she couldn’t find a deer to kill, not even a goddamn rabbit, and it dawns upon her. you had told her you’d wanted a feast, it was nearing on christmas time, and she failed, again. dough filled pastries and pasta is all you two were going to eat for the next two weeks, until the snow starts clearing up and the animal’s crawl out of their sheds.
she doesn’t need to huff, or to even mutter a word, for you to know the state that she’s in. all it takes is that deep sigh, as soon as the door bangs and shuts close behind her. she doesn’t greet you with her usual “look what i got, babe” wiggling her eyebrows— because she knows how much you dislike seeing her hold those animals whilst they’re hanging dead from her hand, their fur disheveled and spotted with blood. all she does is throw the keys on the table, and takes her mud filled boots off of her feet, placing them right besides the door. she crosses her arms over her chest, and watches you intently.
warm, vegetable soup is boiling inside the pot, and besides it, lay two warm bowls of white rice. it’s below forty degrees outside, and yet— your body is impeccably adorned with a milky white, frilly apron. two tiny cream-colored bows are nestled on the sides, right where your waist meets the string. her lips almost curl up to a smile, because no matter how cold it is outside, no matter how glossy her eyes get from the wind, nose red from the snow laying atop it, your home will always be warm— you, will always be warm, and truthfully? that’s all she truly cares about. you grant the soup one last swirl, before turning the flame down, and you give ellie a moment to herself too, before you turn around and greet her. you know she doesn’t like it when you see her upset. a moment passes, and then two, and there’s that deep sigh.
“hey” she murmurs, and her voice is a tad harsh, it has a raspiness to it from the weather outside. you do not respond, nor do you turn around. you signal her to come closer with your hand, and again— there’s that thing her lips do, when they curl up to a smile that she’s trying to hide. she’s not supposed to be smiling, she came home empty handed, but damn you, always making her body form those involuntary reactions. she paces towards you slowly, small steps as her socks meet the wooden floor, and again— it creaks, this place is so damn old.
you take a wooden spoon, give the soup another swirl, and this time, you scoop it out with some warm, liquid deliciousness for her to savor. you can’t help but smile, when she stands besides you with her hand on the countertop and her legs crossed together. “have a taste” you grin, and your voice is warm and saccharine and it makes her forget— that she came back home empty handed. she shuts her eyes for a moment, before blowing on the spoon. you swallow a giggle, as her red-from-the-cold lips form a small puckering movement, and she responds with a huff and a small giggle herself. she can’t help it, and a drop of the soup leaks out of the spoon from the air her nose blows.
she takes it in her mouth, and hums when it hits her tastebuds. “taste’s amazing”; and you know it does, but still, your cheeks heat up at the compliment. “thank you” you reply, and it’s small but it’s sweet. she wants to tell you that you’re fucking adorable, standing here in your apron and cooking her food, but she feels quite shitty, so she doesn’t. “and… made some rice too” you note, gesturing with a finger, poking at one of the bowls. she smiles softly, but its not a real one. she blinks, and breathes deeply. “i’m not really hungry”. ellie looks down, and tugs at the bottom of your dainty apron. you stand there for a while, and it’s a moment of understanding. she stares at the floor, and the corner of her mouth twitches. it’s gnawing at her, and you know it. she feels guilt ridden, and you know that as well. you don’t begin the conversation yourself, tiptoeing around it as if it doesn’t exist. “ellie…” you sigh, breathy— and she immediately turns her face around to the opposite direction. you’re presented with her left, freckles splattered cheek. you caress it with the pad of your thumb, slowly, delicately, her skin still cold, and she winces. her eyebrows furrow, and a small line forms between them. she grabs your hand, places her calloused one on top of it, and peels it off her face. she doesn’t get abrasive, she’s gentle, but she needs it off. she feels too culpable, to deserve your touch. “i feel fucking useless” she puffs, and she doesn’t look you in the eyes when she says it. her eyes are closed, her bottom lip between her teeth. you bring your hand over again, to brush a short hair strand away from her face, and it’s still wet from the rain, or from the snow— you wouldn’t know, it’s coal black outside, it’s only the wind that sneaks itself inside from the tiny hole on the window’s glass, that turns the weather in. you can't help but smile, a soft chuckle escaping from your lips. useless, would be the last thing you could describe ellie as.
“i’m sorry… ellie, you’re being ridiculous”, and this time, she doesn’t push you away, she lets your hand play with the loose strand of hair, twirling it around your finger. she sighs, and lifts her chin up. it quivers slightly, and she rolls her eyes. you notice a certain twinkling glisten in her them, and god— she’s trying to halt the tear threatening to stream down her cheek, and flow like a bantam river. it doesn’t leak out, just finds home on her waterline. before she replies, she shakes her head. “i’m not being ridiculous, you… you fucking do everything for me— you cook for me, and you fucking clean, and…” she stops, and finally, she looks at you. “and i know your fucking back hurts, because you hang the fucking laundry— every day“ she’s rambling, and you’re watching with a soft expression, tilting your head. “every day, you do all of these fucking things, and i’m supposed to provide for you” she points at your chest, and the tear on her waterline finally gives in and takes a drive— lands directly on her top lip.
you’re speechless, doe eyed. you know she’s wrong, but you let her finish. “you… were…” with your finger on her lip, you wipe the tear away. she sighs deeply, and takes your hand in her’s, intertwining her fingers with yours. “you were supposed to bake that… shepherds pie, for christmas. and you were so fucking excited about it, you told dina, and fucking maria and tommy and now—“ she stops, and looks down on the wooden floor. its killing her. “because of me, you can’t” you open your mouth, attempting to sneak a word in, to protest, but she doesn’t let you. she’s stubborn. “because i’m fucking useless” and it stings, but it also… tugs, at your heartstrings, in the warmest, possible way. a tear threatens to erupt from your form as well. throat feeling clogged, you want to coo at her, explain, again— how ridiculous she’s being. how much you love how she cares, this… this is better than a shepherd’s pie, her love is better than everything you’ve ever tasted, you don’t need anything, anything other than her. instead of telling her that, instead of bursting into tears in a declaration of love, you mutter something else. you know that she knows how much you love her— now, you need to be practical, find a solution to the problem she had created.
“blueberry pie”
her eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“blueberry pie?”
you bob your head up and down twice before continuing, and now— it’s getting harder to hide your smile.
“i’ll bake a blueberry pie.” your voice is even sweeter than you had intended for it to come out, dulcet, dripping with honey… and blueberry jam.
she scoffs and adverts her look to the side, before placing her forehead on yours.
“but you were so fucking… excited, about having maria taste your shepherds pie…”
you cut her off, again, and nudge her shoulder. “are you saying… my blueberry pie isn’t as good?”
she rolls her eyes, playfully, you know that’s not what she meant. “everything you cook is fucking delicious…” she takes a deep breath, and the soft smile plastered on her face washes off. she’s grounded with reality, again. “but… i just… feel fucking powerless, like i can’t do shit for you” it’s foolish, really— she had just fixed the doorknob in the upstairs bathroom, built a goddamn patio, all by herself, and… powerless? you about pout, taken back from what she had said.
“powerless?… oh, ellie…”
she sniffles, and she wants to reply, determined to explain, she is powerless, this is all her fault, no fucking shepherds pie, she practically feels like the grinch who stole christmas, but you won’t let her succumb to her own wrath. you plant a kiss, a small, delicate one, right on her cheek. your bottom lip strokes her skin before you pull away, only to form a nest on her the crook of her neck. when you breathe her in, she smells of mud, of leaves, leathery and smokey. you take her in, brush the tip of your nose on her pulse, and you can feel, and almost see— the fine hairs standing up. she shudders, and places a tremor held hand on the small of your back. with one palm on her left shoulder, and the other on her right one, you pull her in. her mouth airs a small noise, almost a whimper but barely a sigh— a mixture of both. it escapes from her throat, and she brushes her thumb on you waist, up and down.
“you are everything…” now, you whisper in her ear, and she shudders. “but powerless” you breathe in, and kiss that one sweet spot behind her ear, you know it’s her favorite. a low grunt escapes her lips, and she squeezes your waist. as you trail soft, gentle as butterflies kisses on the side of her neck, she closes her eyes, and lets you soak her in. your soft chest is pressed against her’s, and she feels that “powerless” feeling depart from her body, like a violent swarm fleeing her chest. “do you know… how much power, you have over me?” your voice is ever so soft, and ever so… submissive. oh, she thinks she knows, but she's not sure.
her hand, maneuvers itself from the small of your back to lay just above your ass, her palm just resting there, caressing the fabric of the soft skirt you donned. with her chin resting on your shoulder, you continue your submission. “do you?” you mewl, and you want her to say yes, to accept it, but she doesn’t. “no” she replies, and truthfully, she only yearns to hear you say it. you plant another kiss on her neck, but this time, it’s an open mouthed one, with your tongue poking out, the soft muscle licking her flesh, making ellie let loose of a long, suppressed groan, to bite her lip as her eyes roll back.
“i think you do know…” and you truly can’t find the words, not when you’re that close, not when you breathe in her scent— not when her hand is on top of your ass, kneading the flesh now, just above the skirt. you whisper, a soft, breathy string of “you know… ellie” and when she takes the soft globe between her fingers, and squeezes, you finally breathe it out, oh god—
“daddy”
the low, throaty groan escapes almost automatically, a knee-jerk reaction, she feels the obscene nickname send a lighting strike between her legs, in her heart, in her brain— this is exactly what she needed to hear. your daddy, the only fucking one who can make you go like this, go this dumb and this needy and this eager to please. a harsh, ringing slap on your ass, still covered by the soft material, follows that very same groan. her other hand moves lower to knead it between her fingers again, clawing at the flesh, marking it as her’s. you mewl it again, “daddy”, and its breathless now, unable to stop, longer and needier— and the ring of the word “fuck”, that she mutters as a response, is bordering on primal.
“yeah?” she voices, raspy and deep, and you know you have clouded her mind now. powerless… who? you hum, when she grabs your tit between her hand, tugs at it and squeezes, twitches the nipple right over your bra, she knows exactly where it is, and exactly how hard to pinch it for her to hear her favorite sound in the whole entire world, that high pitched moan of her name. “let me show you, y—eah?” you stutter, and although it is not even a question, it sounds like you’re begging. “say it again” ellie orders, and although it is phrased as an order, it sounds like she’s begging. “daddy…” you whisper in her ear, kissing and licking her lobe, making her whimper a long, breathy sound of your name.
it is again, primal— how quickly and fervently she peels off the straps of your top, letting the skirt cascade off of your body— and when it comes to the frilly, little apron; “keep it on”, only taking the top part of it off, so your tits can spill out, on full display for ellie. before she takes the soft, silky smooth mounds between her lips— she spits, letting the string of her own saliva stream on the flesh, before it reaches your nipples, teasing her and flowing oh so slowly, before making the tender, now-hard buds glisten with slick. with her forehead on yours, her gaze is fixated upon them. you can feel her heartbeat, growing faster and faster. “fucking christ” she huffs, before smearing her spit on your nipples with the pad of her thumb. you wince and squeal when she flicks them left and right. “so sensitive, s’fucking cute” she coos, before latching her needy mouth onto them, sucking them in, leaving dark, purple marks the harder she sucks. she takes the nipple between her teeth, bites— here’s that fucking squeal of yours again, so she moans, never neglecting the other tit, her fingers toying with the nipple, moving it in small circles so you fucking cunt can feel it. with a loud “ahh” sound, she takes the sensitive bud out of her mouth.
when she looks at you, staring into your eyes, with a look that’s so impatient, and hungry, with a look that says “you’re fucking mine”, and "i fucking own you", you bite your lip so hard it almost draws blood. doe eyed, she takes your chin between her index and her pointer. she doesn’t need to mutter a word, before you’re down on your knees, hitting the floor with a thud. that’s ought to leave a mark. nevertheless, she’d love it, all of it. when she towers over you, with that dark gaze and those burning green eyes, it’s hard not to feel small, and powerless. except, you have all the power in the world. letting her have this, have you, that’s more powerful than it all.
she pats the top of your head, rubs it, and waits for your next move. you place your head on her thigh, and caress it, letting the harsh material of her jeans burn through your cheek. “there she is…” she coos, teasingly so, and places her thumb on your lower lip. she grazes it from side to side, toying with the plush, damp flesh.
“suck”
oh, you do. you suck it so hard you’re almost biting it, your cheeks hollowing, keeping your eyes on her while the obscene noises of her thumb inside of your mouth fill the room, wet and nasty and loud. she stares down, nodding to you, her nods saying “that’s my good girl” but her mouth shut and formed in a tight line, groaning as if you’re sucking on her goddamn cock, making that tickling pain right between her legs, covered by too many layers of fabric, grow more and more distracting. you can feel it too— that sensation, deep in your core. its hard, it's almost impossible, not to begin humping the floor. her pupils grow even larger in size when you start moaning around her thumb, worshipping it, worshipping her. she watches you, her mouth agape, chasing your eyes, and when you close them ever so slightly, she takes a sharp breath. "look at you..." she coos, and you know she means look at how pathetic you are, look at the drool running down your chin, making a mess, all for her. she gives a hum of satisfaction, and takes her thumb out of your mouth.
when you look at her again, you're transfixed, mind foggy with your eyes lazily half shut. she nods her head up and down, because she knows what you yearn to do next. you don't have to say a word, before she yanks the belt off of her pants, in one swift motion, and then— undoes the button, and the zipper as well. ellie throws the belt on the floor, violently so, and it makes your whole body jump with a squeal.
"awh... did i scare you?" she coos, and caresses her hand slowly, from the top of your forehead, running it all along the pillowy skin of your cheeks, to the bottom of your chin. with her index and her pointer, she grabs your chin, and lower's your head over so your eyes fixate on her jean-covered cunt. poor you, you wait for her to take them off. except, she doesn't. with her hand on the back of your head, she pushes you forward, making the tip of your nose graze her heat, and you swear to god himself— you can smell her already, you know that she's soaking, getting off on you sucking her thumb like that, getting off on your absolute submission to her. she has to restrain herself from using you fully, from bumping your head forward and forcing you to get her to cum through her pants, she knows she can— but instead, when she looks right into your eyes, those poor, glassy eyes, she gets down on her knees to face you. her expression softens, and she rubs her thumb on your cheek. you almost purr, tilting your head so you fit perfectly in it.
"you're so good to me..." she whispers, and chuckles softly when she sees the curl of your lip. "so good..." she repeats, and you hum, accepting her praise. she plants a soft, loving kiss on your forehead. "pretty little housewife... always takin' care of me, huh?" you nod, accepting again, although now, it feels as if she's purely speaking to herself. "always" you whisper back, nodding your head softly. "you wanna make me feel good?... hm?" she murmurs, trailing small circles on your cheek, moving her finger downwards lightly, so that it grazes over your sensitive nipple, and again— she toys with the bud, awestruck at how sensitive you get, chuckling when the sweet little squeal escapes your lips again.
"yes..." you reply softly, and it's breathy, the eagerness oh so apparent in your voice.
"f'course you do..."
she gets up from her knees, bit by bit, and leans her back on the fridge. you look up at her, and place your thumbs inside of her jeans. she nod's softly, signaling you that it's time now. take them off.
when you do, you whine.
her grey boxers, perfectly tight on her thighs, have a delicious, wet patch right where the fabric meets her hole. "mhh'ellie..." you whine, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, inhaling deeply. "you're so wet..." you murmur against her skin, taking in what you did. you're copying her, imitating, she knows that. "all for me...?" you whisper, and then she tsk's. "dont play with me" she breathlessly huffs— but why? it's so much fun, after all.
"are you shy, daddy?" you question, and she feels her cheeks burning a crimson red. "shut up" she murmurs, and it's a half chuckle— half threat.
"you're so cute" you tease, a soft, adorable smile when you speak. "hey... hey—" she takes hold of your chin again.
"quit being a fucking brat, ju— oh... my.... god" in the midst of her sentence, your tongue met her clothed clit. eagerly, you teased it up and down with the tip of your pink muscle, and you felt ellie shaking.
her whole body tenses, as soon as you begin flickering it, taking her button between your teeth, not once daring to break your eye contact. your eyes scream submission, but your movements— scream mine. you flatten your tongue against her slit and her knees almost give in. with a fist on your scalp, her body— involuntarily, slips down slightly off of the fridge, her ass meets the metal with a thud, she's almost squatting.
her mind is clouded with chants of "fucking needed this"
you kiss it, nice and wet. "you like it, daddy?" bold, full on cocky and bratty is what you are. you know you made her desperate so you have the power to dare— and tease her on and on. she doesn't reply, a choked out whine coming from her throat. she mumbles incoherently, something that sounds like "you wait for your fucking turn and then you'll see" before she pulls down her boxers, grabs you by the back of your neck and pushes you in.
"fuuuuu" she chokes out, barely able to continue her words, when your lips wrap around her swollen clit, messily sucking it in. "just like... fuck— just like that..." now, she's purely controlling your motions, grinding on you. you flatten out your tongue with a whimper and incoherently breathe out; "da— ddy". with your voice choked up, mouth swollen and used, she looks down at you, her eyes threatening to close, and yet, she smiles. darkly so, and teasingly. "such a—" she grunts, a "psh" noise escaping her lips, "good— fucking girl..."
you can't help but let your hand wander down your skirt, squeezing and pinching and caressing your thighs like she'd do, teasing yourself all over your panties, rubbing your leaking hole as she fucks herself on top of you. when she notices your little hand circling your clit, she wants to coo, wants to warn you— but she doesn't. she chuckles, "can't fucking help... fuck—" you barely let her finish her sentence again, before you take her clit between your teeth and gnaw at it gently. "s'fucking much— can't even fucking help yourself— can you?" every word that leaves her mouth feels as if it's being held hostage, trying to escape, sounding muffled and choked up.
of course you need to cum when your mouth is on her cunt, of course you need to cum when she's using you like this, it's so obvious, it's so... you, she attempts to be feigned by it, but instead, she laughs. "go on... make yourself cum— g-go on" she stutters, and when she does, you suck harder on the bud than you've ever sucked in your life, with a sweet, high pitched moan. you almost have to physically push your fingers out of your cunt, whining as soon as the feeling of being empty washes over you, and then— you push them deep inside ellie’s tight, warm hole.
she barely has time to response, jolting at the intrusion, muttering a string of curse words under her breath, pulling her head back. "dirty— fuckin'..."
your juices mix with her's, and the sounds that your mouth leaves are obscene, wet and sticky, moaning like you've never tasted anything better in your life— which you probably hadn't. "you gonna cum, daddy?" you probe, breathlessly so, and it's humorous, that brave attitude that washes over you when she's a mess splattered against the fridge, bucking her hips and— cumming. all over your mouth.
you lick it up, suck all of the juices in, from her tight hole and then all over her slit, swallowing every last bit.
before you manage to get up, she lifts you up.
you both stand there for a while, forehead to forehead, not talking, barely breathing on each other.
you blink twice, and then once more.
"powerless?" you quip, silently.
she's breathless, and before she replies, she attacks your neck with sweet, soft kisses.
"you fucking.... you fucking—", she picks you up and you squeal. she pushes you against the counter and she... giggles?
"how did i fucking..." she pecks your lips, and pecks it again, and again, and again— you can't stop laughing, she's tickling you all over and the tears start forming in the corners of your eyes.
"how did get so fucking lucky?" she pecks again, on your cheek now. "huh?" she repeats, and fuck— that smile.
"how did i get so fucking... lucky"
how did she, truly?
"go upstairs and grab it" she orders, but waits for your response. "what?" you speak, in between sweet as honey giggles.
"up... stairs"
"what's upstairs?"
she tilts her head, and smirks.
"what's upst—... oh"
oh.
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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months
Text
Cabin in the woods (yandere!shasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yandere!slasher!Horangi) chapter 6
You start to break down, finally accepting Konig's soft advances.
WARNINGS: Blood, dub-con bordering on non-con, general slasher-y, mild knife stabbing
Masterlist with all chapters This on AO3
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This basement is filled with dead people. Or, so you thought at first glance. 
At the second glance, you notice a broken bicycle, a bunch of furniture pieces, and something that you could only describe as a particularly horrible-looking attempt at wood carving. Or, maybe, a hanging post. You were in the killer’s layer, after all. 
You were there for 10, maybe 15 minutes, and you already know that you are not making it out sane. Your whole body is trembling, your head is throbbing, you are dizzy after an orgasm, and Max is still lying here, his body is warm and soft. Blood stopped dripping from his stomach, but it didn’t make him any less dead. Coughing and almost throwing up from disgust, you spit out every last bit of cum that you managed to get out of your sore throat. You needed something – water, normal food, a good few hours of sleep because you’ve been running on sheer adrenaline for the past 12 hours and it started to take a toll on your…everything. 
Just a few hours ago, you were a bored college girl on her forest trip with a bunch of weirdo friends. Your biggest problem was the utter boredom of this fucking woods, not the murderous maniacs on your tail. Now…
— Open wide, Maus. Let me feed you, ja? 
Now you were spoonfed reheated chicken soup by König. Colonel in the PMC. The guy who dropped his mask to make you even more scared because you see all the burn marks and scars on his face, and just know that you won’t ever be able to resist someone as strong as him. 
Guy who calls you “good girl” and pets your head and tries to engage you in this weird as fuck power dynamic that makes your cheeks warm and your mouth open, even though the saltiness of the soup makes you remember his cum and…fuck. Oh, god fucking damnit. 
He is smiling like a maniac, making sure that with each spoon of your soup, you also eat something…you don’t even want to acknowledge it, your stomach is too empty, and your mouth was already tarnished by him, so what’s the problem with a few more drops of his semen, carefully added to the mixture so you won’t be able to miss it? You cringe in disgust as he smiles and pushes even more in your throat, almost making you gag from the spoon deep past your teeth. At least you know that the chicken bits here are actual chicken. 
— Let…let me go. Please.
You finish the bowl of soup after a few torturous minutes. The salty taste in your mouth leaves you cringing, and König smiles, wiping your face with a napkin. You feel helpless – with your arms newly bound, there is nothing much you can do when he presses a bottle of coke to your mouth, making you wash away the incredible saltiness with even more incredible sweetness. You want to gag, but he closes your mouth swiftly after. 
He smiles. 
— We’ll walk you later. Now is not the time for girls to be out. 
— I’m not a…
He scoops you in his hands, your body swinging in the air like a doll. It’s horrible, just how strong he is – makes you tremble in his hold, like a useless little victim you are. God, this even sounds embarrassing – yet you can hear the smile in his voice as he drags you along with him. Forcing you to look at Max’s dead body, the smell isn’t filling the room just yet. You try your best to consider yourself lucky. 
— You’re cranky, Maus. Need to get you out of here before he starts to smell, right? Brainy ones usually rot extremely fast. 
He laughs at his own joke as he pushes you in his arms further. Your head pounds with every one of his rough, deep phrases, his hands are going to roughly manhandle you in place. You whine, too weak to resist but not too weak to stop crying. God, this is pathetic. And scary, And not like those movies about hot killers and half-naked girls. 
You’re not a final girl material because instead of fighting him and slamming your knee in his dick again, you get even further on his hands, hoping he would be able to hold you in place like you wanted it. 
— Not sure if I should call you a Kitten or a good girl. What do you prefer? 
He pushes his large, calloused hand to your face, smearing blood all over your cheeks once again. You cringe, your nose gets the fragrance of blood and decay from his skin – the weirdest fucking perfume that you hope to never smell again. Sobbing softly, you allow him to press his hands on your body, to roam around freely, like you were his fucking treat and not a real person with wants and desires. 
— Fuck you. 
— It’s Horangi’s job, girl. Not yours, ja? 
He laughs plentifully, getting you in his hands. You shiver under his touch, not wanting his fingers anywhere near your abused body – they got you off one time exactly, and you wish never to come from your captor’s toucher. You don’t even want to look at Max, too scared to ever see his lifeless, cold face – terrified of the deep path you feel towards him. Like nothing has happened, like he wasn’t one of your friends. You don’t feel anything besides being tired, and you can’t begin to unwrap all the complex feelings behind your assholish friend group deaths. 
Jenny and Chad are still out here, still could get help – but they were ignoring every one of your pleads, not wanting to ruin their nice vacation with your dumb panic. Deep down, you almost feel like screwing these fucking assholes and hoping that they would get impaled by a large freaking stick, preferably in the middle of very lame and satisfying sex. Preferably…
— König, I thought we agreed of not letting her out. 
— You’re going hunting, and I need company. 
— She could run, you know. You’re too soft on her. 
— I can break her ankle! She won’t run then.
König’s voice is so cheerful you actually feel nauseous. He is smiling and laughing, and they both hug before the shorter guy gets out – you can’t even begin to remember the outline of their house because, honestly, serial killers shouldn’t have houses this nice. Ruch wood, probably painted with blood, some hunting trophies, probably incrusted with human bones and remains of their victims, a lot of silly little knickknacks that are probably trophies from the previous groups of dumb college kids…
Shit, no matter how much you wanted to say that this place looks horrible and straight out of a horror movie, it still looks nice. You wonder if it could be scored for a low price, with all the disappearing in the woods around it. You wonder if they started to kill people to make the house cheaper and buy it for half a Euro and a firm handshake. 
König grabs you like a plush toy, squeezing you in his magnificent, strong chest, almost making you choke on his boobs as you just desperately try to breathe. He smells like masculinity, too much male perfume and blood – you tuck your face closer to his neck, trying to see if you could, perhaps, bite through his blood stream and vampire your way out of this place, but he only laughs, feeling your teeth on his skin as a form of foreplay. You didn’t want foreplay, you wanted to fucking kill him, maul him to death, do everything in your power to drop him on his back and perform acts that would be not only concerning to feminism but humanity as a whole. 
He drops you on the couch before you can sink your teeth into his shoulder, leaving perfect teeth marks on the pale skin of his body. You heard somewhere that human bites are actually incredibly dangerous and call make you ill – you also hoped that you could somehow get rabies from that one poor rodent lying dead on the ground, and so you would be able to transfer the disease to these two fuckers. 
You hoped that Karen would give them all the STDs that are possibly could be transmitted. 
You hoped that Max would annoy the shit out of them before he died. 
You hoped…but it’s useless now, isn’t it? You are sitting on the couch, your captor keeping a firm hand on your thigh, his erection still hard in his pants – you refuse to look at it, you’re better than this, but, oh god, you had no idea a dick could be this dick and don’t prod through pants. You feel like a house dog that was allowed to sit on the soft furniture for the first time in her life, and you hate it. With a groan and, perhaps, a bit of an angry yelp, you fall to the ground. 
König smiles immediately – and pushes your face between his legs, perhaps thinking that you just died to suck him off. You wince, both from disgust and fear. Your jaw is still sore, and you aren’t sure how you can still close it. 
— Such an eager girl, ja? I will give you what you want then. 
Come to think of it, while he is relaxed and his partner is out of the house, you could try to bite his dick off. It should give you a headstart to run and find a weapon to eliminate one of the problems. Then, again, it would require you to put his dick in your mouth again. 
Your jaw pleaded to just allow him to fuck your pussy instead. 
Your pussy pleaded to just give him your ass, to not risk being pregnant. 
Your ass…yeah, you’re not trying anal for the first time with a guy who can swing his dick like a baseball bat and kill some unhappy campers with it. 
With the swiftness of the wind, you get up, sitting on the couch in the most modest pose you can imagine. You threw away a couple of pillows in the process – nice pillows, soft pillows, pillows you couldn’t imagine in the house of not just two killers but two military dudes who don’t seem like the type to like everything soft and cute. Besides you, you guess – or they always get one of their victims as leverage or a fucked up pet until they are fully committed to just killing you and eating what is left of your remains. 
König only laughs, getting a hand over your shoulders and pressing you closer to him. You don’t want to, but you’re basically naked, save for your underwear and torn jeans, and he is warm. You don’t need a blanket when you have his hot flesh next to your skin – you suppress a smile, trying your best not to fall into their clutches. You’re tired, yes, but it’s not an excuse to be a whore! There are many more convenient moments to be a slut and this one is not it. They killed your friends!
Your asshole friends. 
— You have any movie preferences? 
He has to repeat his question a few times, you’re too lost in thought to actually listen. Only when he pinched your thigh, no doubt leaving a bruise, you kinda jumped in place, only barely containing a pathetic whimper. His fingers just started to gently squeeze and play with soft flesh, only making everything more warm and twisted and painful. 
— No slashers. 
He chuckles, pressing his hand deeper into your inner thigh. You try to close your legs, not wanting to invite his fingers in, but he just rests his fingertips on the border of torn jeans, gently brushing it over the sensitiveness of your skin. You gulp, suppressing any reaction. 
— No slashers. Gut. I, too, prefer the real thing. 
Shiver rund down your spine. God, you need to get out of here, not play house with a murderer! A handsome murderer who killed your asshole friends and who was also kinda nice(not killing you, that is) and even saved you from being too hurt and even allowed you on the couch and even…god, you’re a miserable shell of a woman and the greatest speedrunner of the Stockholm syndrome in the world. 
Your body sinks into the couch that smells like a mix between a frat house and a meat fridge. 
He turns on the TV, placing something dumb and loud. You don’t even want to look, but you’re bored, and you don’t want him to think you are letting him off the hook with your observant nature – you look at him, quietly as he intensely watches a…
A familiar melody fills the room. You actually need to wait a few seconds, blink, and then look at the screen again. God, is he fucking serious right n-
You are sitting in the house in the middle of a murder forest, with the dead body of your friend rotting in the basement of said house, you were forced to have sex with the killers of the said friends, and now you’re kidnapped in the said house…and the killer just turned on fucking Encanto for you. 
— It’s popular among girls your age, right? 
You want to say that, among normal college female population, porn would be far more suitable to watch. The guy looks older than you, for sure, mature, with a rugged face and scars and that perfect stubble and touches of silver in his ginger hair, and…shit, you’re dreaming of his rough handsomeness again. Quick, think about your dead friend. 
— I’m not 5. 
— You act like you’re 5. 
— Wh…what do you mean? 
— You left your friends to die, you don’t care that we can hurt you…
— I care that you can hurt me!
— You’re silly, Liebling. A normal person would try to run away three times already. 
— You said you’d break my ankles. 
— I will. Still, you look like you prefer this place more, ja? You can watch dumb shows and eat whatever you want and never worry about…whatever you were doing before. 
— I don’t! I…this is stupid. 
— You’re a bit dumb, Schatzen. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you. 
He smiles as he ruffles your hair again, his hand goes to gently cup your face and cover it with hungry, sloppy kisses. You can’t even focus on the cartoon on the screen because he is basically devouring your lips right now, forcing you to open your mouth and invite him in – you don’t want him to bite you, you are hurt enough without that kind of contribution. You feel dizzy, dehydrated, you are still exhausted, and you’d want nothing more but to close your eyes and allow him to do whatever he wants with your lifeless body. 
You want to roll to the side, hug the pillow, and watch Encanto on pair with some trash TV about housewives killing each other over a garden salad. You don’t want to think about your dead friends because they are dead, you are alive, and your lips are getting crushed as he forces the kiss to be more deep, as he brings his hand to gently squeeze your waist and brush over your back. 
You are flushed by the end of the kiss, König grins sluggishly as you are panting, shocked, excited and a bit overwhelmed. In the heat of the moment, you didn’t even think about biting his tongue off – which sounded a bit stupid right now, yes, he would probably just kill you for trying, but you could at least…you could at least close your lips and don’t allow him to kiss you like an excited puppy who just loves loves loves covering your face with his saliva. 
Like a dig with a boner, König presses wet lips all over your face and head – in your hair, on your temple, gently brushing over your forehead and cheeks, making sure that he traces his lips over every last bit of blood that he left on your skin. He grunts in the kiss, something more like a guttural moan, and you never knew that just the motion of simple, sloppy kisses can make a man so excited – you are scared and just a little bit curious. Just how much he wants to touch his victim. 
König gently places you down on the couch, forcing you to sit straight. He picks up one of the fallen decor pillows and throws it into your hands, allowing you to have something to fidget with. He almost looks guilty, anxious, that barbaric, rugged face is red with embarrassment and sadness as he can’t really do anything nice with you right now, can’t play with you like he wants to. God, König would give up a lot to just fuck you raw on this couch, to forget about your stupid friends and make you their nice little couple addition – but he promised, he knows he is, and you’re too sensitive and overwhelmed to take him like this now. 
König can bet that you’d be so tight he wouldn’t even get a finger in. Breaking you in should feel fucking amazing. 
— Can’t fuck you right now, Schatzi. Promised my tiger we would share you. 
He smiles guilty, boyish, that dumb smile brings heat to your cheeks again. You turn away from him, feeling his hands keeping you in place firmly – but otherwise, he allows you to just watch the movie, getting lost in the plot you saw a couple dozen times. 
You are watching the movie, and König is watching you. 
— You aren’t sad? 
— About what? You can sense a certain level of nervousness in his tone. You lick your lips, hugging the pillow closer to your face so he won’t be able to read your expressions. 
— That we can’t fuck right now. 
— I don’t want to have sex at all. 
— You came stronger than I did. 
— It’s a…ph…physical reaction. I didn’t want it. 
— You don’t sound convinced. 
He is drilling the dangerous thoughts in your head. The desire to just empty your brain and allow them to take the lead, the desire of your mind to simply shut down from all of the horrors you already saw. This is an apathetic stance – you don’t see a point in fighting after you see what they are capable of, and you certainly don’t see the point in ever trying again. Still, you somehow want them to stop, just so you can stop worrying about falling for their trap and stop being a good person who cares for her friends. 
You feel like almost falling asleep, dozing off on the couch – not because you feel safe or warm, but because your body is simply refusing to reach anymore, too exhausted to produce even the most basic self-reservation instincts. König forces your head on his lap, gently stroking your tear-stained face. 
When Horangi returns home with a bloody axe and Jenny, kicking and screaming in his hold, you are fully asleep on König’s lap. 
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maximwtf · 1 year
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Hello person- I must say I love reading your lil fanfics always keeps me busy when It's in the middle of the night and I can't sleep lmao.
If I may, if you are still accepting requests- A Legolas x reader, where the reader isn't aware of a custom that elves have about braiding their hair and basically just accidentally confesses to him when they get bored one day and just start braiding his hair and only finds out when the Fellowship congratulates them for confessing or something along those lines hehehe
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Legolas x reader
words: 1930
google docs pages: 3
warnings: none? fluff :D 
opening: One day while you’re bored, you begin to braid Legolas’ hair, unaware of its meaning to the elves. It’s only later, when you find out the message behind it. 
AN// Thank you so much for this request, love the idea! (this also gives me a reason to not write the other ideas I've been putting off xd) idk if this is a little ooc, but I hope it’s okay^^ It’s also lovely to hear that you enjoy my work!^^ Reader can be any gender !
         “A time for congratulations?”
It hadn’t been long since you had joined the fellowship from Rivendell, like most of the others had too. The only one you knew better than the others was Legolas. Him you had met more than a few times in the past, mostly as an accident, but you did genuinely enjoy his company. You’d never admit it to anyone in the group, but you were happy that he had been the one from Mirkwood to join. You heard it had been his father who had suggested befriending Aragorn to him, and it was when Legolas had begun to look for Aragorn that he had met you. Aragorn you had only met a few times, and back then only knew him as “strider” like most. The others you had only met when the Fellowship had been formed, but all of them had seemed okay. 
Now, trailing behind Legolas, you examined your surroundings silently. Old trees with roots going all across the forest blocked the view on your right and on the left only a few trees were growing, enjoying the sun they were able to get. The trees on the left casted dark shadows on the almost non existent road you were walking on. Gandalf had seemed to be very certain that there was a trail going here, but you weren’t so sure. But since no one else had doubted him, you had decided to just follow along. At least you weren’t going to get lost alone.
As your gaze moved from left to right, amazed by the sturdy old trees, being able to stand for such a long time, you noticed Legolas turning to look at you for a moment. It was only for a split second, but it made you humm to yourself. Perhaps he was happy to see you too. It was rarely that you could spend more time with him, mostly just short bump ins every now and then. He was a prince, and probably had a lot to do.
The group seemed to have noticed the darkened shadows of the trees, and decided to set camp for the night. The sun seemed to be setting, making the casted shadows even darker before the sky would begin to follow along. Spreading the darkness of the upcoming night all over.
You had agreed to take the first watch shift of the night before anyone could steal it from you. You’d rather stay up late and go to sleep than wake up in the middle of the night to take your turn. Boromir and Gimi seemed to have collected some bigger pieces of wood and some sticks that Aragorn had been able to set on fire to create a campfire. Legolas, you and the hobbits helped to bring some rocks and logs around the fire so everyone could sit. Sam had requested if he could make something to eat, and surprisingly enough no one had disagreed. The start of the night seemed to be going smoothly. 
As Sam had begun to cook some kind of a soup or a stew, everyone else had spread around the fire. Some were fixing up their weapons and others just talking. You swore you had seen Merry and Pippin bothering Boromir too. You on the other hand had found a spot close to the fire. Most of the ‘seats’ had been taken, but that just allowed you to sit closer to the warming flames of the campfire. Legolas had seated himself near you. You could hear him lowering his bow and the quiver against the log he was sitting on. Other than that and the quiet talking, the only noise you could hear was the mixing of the soup Sam was making. Sometimes the ladle would hit the edges of the saucepan, causing a small noise to break the silent gaps.The moon was only a half, but since there weren't a lot of clouds in the sky, it was able to shine its light all over the forest. At times it felt like time had stopped after the sun had started to go down, and was still shining some light over the fellowship. It was only the cold night air that let you know it indeed was almost time to go and rest. 
You shivered under your clothes, pulling the cloak closer to you, making sure it was properly over your shoulders. Something rustled behind you, and soon another cape was placed over you. A small ‘huh?’ left your mouth as you turned to look who it was. Legolas clipped the front clip shut so the cloack wouldn’t fall off of you. “You seemed cold.” He said, smiling slightly as he sat back down. “I- Thank you.” You said, still confused by the gesture. “Aren’t you going to be cold?” You then asked, feeling bad if he’d have to freeze because of you. The elf laughed lightly at your question and shook his head. “Elves can tolerate the cold better than humans, therefore you should keep it.” He explained to you. 
You had never really thought of how different you were to him. Sure, you were friends with him, but you had no idea that the elves could tolerate the cold better than humans. Maybe you’d find out something else about him as the fellowship continued. This had to only one from many things that made elves so different from you. 
You noticed that the faint light of the moon made his almost white hair look magical. The usually well braided strands of hair had opened up from the fighting the group had gone through with a few orcs earlier that day. You had noticed that the prince usually kept his hair well done, but maybe he hadn’t noticed yet. 
Not being sure if you’d embarrass him if you pointed it out, you got up and sat next to him. You weren’t an elf but you had gotten your hair done before and over the years learned how to braid hair in different styles. So without another word, you took a hold of one of the half opened braids and began to undo it completely. Legolas seemed to have tensed up for a moment and you felt his eyes on you, but to your surprise he soon turned his gaze away and let you continue. 
You braided the first strand of hair, pulling it behind his ear the way you’d seen him usually have them. After starting to fix the other one, you felt another pair of eyes on the two of you. With a quick look you found out who it was. Aragorn was sitting on the other side of the campfire with an amused look on his face. Not understanding what he had found amusing, you kept on working on Legolas’ hair. The prince’s hair was smooth and easy to work with. Humming to yourself, “you have lovely hair.” You said quietly, seeing the man shiver, but saying nothing about it. You were enjoying the moment, getting to feel closer to your friend for once. The warmth of Legolas’ cloak and the fire kept you warm and protected from the gusts of wind. The smell of the soup Sam had made was good, and it felt great to know you were going to be eating something that not only would taste good but also would be warm. You felt like you had only been eating bread and apples for such a long time. 
You finished the other braid and mixed it in with the unbraided parts of his hair. “Both are fixed again.” You hummed mostly to yourself but out loud so Legolas could hear it too. You felt his eyes on you for a moment before they moved to Sam, when he handed the both of you a bowl with some steaming soup in it. You thanked the hobbit with a nod, and began to eat. From the corner of your eye, you caught Aragorn telling Gimli something and them both silently laughing. Trying not to pay no mind to the conversation, you couldn't help but to wonder if it was about what Aragorn had found so amusing earlier?
After that night, many more passed. Some worse and some just as good, but what kept everyone going was the mission and the people in the fellowship. Legolas never mentioned anything about you braiding his hair, and he even let you do it once or twice after. But after every time, it felt like more eyes were on the two of you. It was first only Aragorn, then Gimli joined and soon even Gandalf was in on it. At times it felt like even Legolas knew what was going on. 
After some time of you being oblivious of what had been going on, you decided to bring it up. You had so many theories of what they could have been up to, that you just had to find out. Making your way from the back of the group to where Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli were, you prepared yourself. “What are you hiding from me?” This got the attention of the three, all of them slowing down their walking speed a little. “Whatever do you mean?” Legolas asked, giving Aragorn a quick look, almost as if he was trying to tell the man something. “You all clearly have been sharing a rumor or something along the lines of that.” You replied, but didn’t get an answer from anyone for a moment. “You should tell them.” Gandalf’s voice rang from the front of the group, clearly also aware of what you were talking about. “It isn’t a rumor per say.” Gimli started, looking at Aragorn for a moment, hoping he’d take it from there. You saw Legolas look away, not taking part in the conversation. “We wished to congratulate you on confessing to Legolas.” Your eyes widened for a moment, and without even wanting to, a “what?” Left your mouth. “They weren’t aware, Aragorn.” Legolas finally joined in, looking at his friend. “What is this all about?” You tilted your head. “When you braid his hair. See, to elves it has a significant meaning behind it.” Aragorn tried to explain. Your hand traveled over your mouth, clearly shocked. “And you didn't think to tell me?” You blushed slightly, smacking Legolas’ arm lightly. He stopped, taking a light hold of your hand to pause you as well. “I wanted to explain it to you but I found that..” He tried to look for words for a moment, and you let him. “I found that I cared for you that way, and I wasn’t certain if you had found the meaning yourself...” His eyes met yours again, after traveling for a moment. You stayed silent, not even noticing that the rest of the fellowship had also stopped near the two of you. “But I am aware that I should have told-” Legolas broke the silence but you stopped him before he could finish. “It’s all okay. I feel similar.” You admitted, looking away for a second. “Is this a better time for congratulations?” Gimli’s voice asked from behind you as Aragorn walked closer as well. “Yes, yes it is.” You smiled and turned back to Legolas. His eyes looked at you with admiration in them. “Gi Melin.” (I love you)
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bookworm-with-coffee · 10 months
Text
Insecurities. . .
(Kili x Reader)
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(A/N); Hello and welcome, readers!! As always, thank you for stopping by!! I thought it was high time to write a fic for Kili! After all, who can resist that cheeky smile of his?? Do enjoy! ❤
Plot; Comfort drabble
Pairings; Kili x Reader (Romantic)
Warnings; fluffity-fluff and some angy-angst
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The evening was cheerful, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield having stopped for the night after a long day's travels. Peaceful ambience of the forest began to increase in the nightfall, the breeze light and cool as it swayed through the rustling trees.
Firelight filled the camp with a warm flickering glow, the smell of woodsmoke and Bombur's cooking potent in the air. Conversation was easy to find and delightful, as always. Bofur, Dwalin, Nori and a few of the others were sat together, conversing in what sounded like their native tongue. The intricacies and mysteries of Khuzdul still left you amazed, despite how it was only merriful banter.
You had stood by Bombur, offering to take Bofur's place tonight as the food-server. Each bowl of soup was steaming hot, your steps having to be quick to avoid burning yourself too badly from the scalding liquid as it dripped from the bowl. Each Dwarf had eagerly taken the food that was offered, exhaustion fueling their hunger. Even Bilbo and Gandalf seemed relieved to finally be eating this evening. The days were long and draining, trudging through the wilderness in the everchanging landscape. You too found relief in finally dropping down beside the youngest of the two Princes once your rounds were finished.
Fili, who usually kept him company of a nighttime, was occupied in the audacious conversations nearby. The booming laughter that rang out almost startled you whilst you settled in alongside Kili, him offering the occasional soft chuckle at the words being thrown between bites of his food.
Darting to you, the Prince's hazel eyes glistened with the embers of the campfire. A soft smile of amusement crossed his face, the action always seeming to offer you comfort. "What are they on about now?", you quirked a brow, his expression becoming contagious.
"By this point in the conversation, I don't think you want to know".
"Enlighten me", you encouraged, laughter slipping from the Princeling's lips. It was hard for Kili to restrain his smile when he finally obliged.
"They're taking bets on whether or not Bofur uses his hat in the bedroom".
"Pigs", you huffed, a moment's silence passing before you added, "He clearly does". The Prince snorted, his soup suddenly travelling through his nostrils. Something akin to a guffaw escaped his lips, whilst he desperately tried to grapple his composure in your now shared laughter.
"Agreed", he managed to wheeze out, wiping at his face and mouth.
In moments like this, you appreciated the bond that had formed between you both. Despite the seriousness of the quest at hand, you always found yourself at ease within Kili's easygoing nature and cheeky humour. He always had a way of soothing your anxieties with his jokes and lighthearted conversations, always looking on the brighter side of things. And although he was oblivious to such things, you'd come to find him to be quite beautiful.
It was hard not to when the light of the fire danced over his features, illuminating the strands of hair that fell effortlessly over his face. You'd come to admire those wavy tresses with their now auburn glow, sitting over his strong and broad shoulders. You wondered how he cared for them, keeping them so clean despite the lack of hygiene this quest entailed.
With his head turned and gaze fixed on the forest ahead, you found that his messed half-up had lost a few strands that dangled, masking the Prince's handsome face from your current view. His metal clasp was now sitting loosely on the back of his head. And although it offered him a fitting style, you wished to fix it for him.
Dinner became suddenly forgotten in your new endeavours when you decided to test the waters with Kili. Reaching for the strand that had fallen loose over his face, your fingertips worked the silken strands behind his ear with a delicate precision. The Prince almost seemed to stiffen at your touch, his breaths halting whilst goosebumps ignited across his skin. His lips had parted, lashes fluttering. No woman had ever touched him like that before. And although there was nothing sensual about your touch, it made every part of him light up like fire, craving more of that soothing gentleness.
Sensing his quiet, you became hesitant to continue. "May I fix your hair for you?". Your question had his hazel orbs clouding in confusion, scanning your face for any sign that you may have been jesting. He nodded shyly, his voice seeming to waver slightly,
"Please". That being all the confirmation you needed, you pulled the large clasp from his hair, the thick layers falling loose. Excitement bubbled in your chest whilst you shuffled closer to the handsome Dwarf.
Steadying his breaths, he resisted the shudder that passed through him when your fingers began working through his hair like a gentle comb. You began to remove the small tangles, relishing in the soft touch of his hair. The moisture in the strands was not greasy or dirty in nature and his waves bounced back, unaffected by your touches. The Prince's eyes had fallen closed, his dinner being long abandoned in his blissful state. The sensation of your nails brushing over his scalp had him drawing his bottom lip between his teeth to fight the pleasurable sighs that dared to leave his throat.
The boisterous conversations that once ensnared his attention had faded from his ears. He was barely able to register your voice when you spoke so gently to him. "Your hair is so beautiful", you marveled, spindling his soft hair between your fingers playfully. "How do you keep it so soft and lovely?". The young Prince felt his throat tightening from shock, pondering what your interest was in his hair. In his opinion, there was nothing special about his tresses.
Kili gathered no attention from women, unlike his fellow kin. His complete lack of facial and body hair meant that to any respectable Dwarf, he was considered ugly or unattractive. At your compliments, it was only normal for him to be in a state of disbelief. You were the first and only woman to take interest.
"It's nothing special", he finally murmured. "I just use a light oil after I wash my hair".
"You need to lend it to me sometime", you insisted with a grin, your eyes seeming to sparkle with mirth. "It works wonders on your hair. It's so beautiful". Kili felt his heartbeat increase, his tone falling quieter amidst his further disbelief.
"Do you think so?". In a sudden surge of confidence, you replied,
"I know so. You have the most gorgeous looking hair out of all the Dwarves in this Company". His eyes had blown wide, his lips parting in surprise. "It looks lovely pinned back", you added, finally binding his hair securely with his clasp. "Or left out". You shrugged. He grew confused when you shuffled in front of him. "But, I think I like your fringe the most. It frames your kind face without hiding it".
You were so close now, your (e/c) eyes trained on the delicate strands that made up his bangs. Your touch was featherlight and uncalloused, your face screwed in concentration. In your current focus, you didn't see the admiration and awe for you that shimmered in his gaze. Never had he gotten attention like this, even from a friend. Friend. He despised that word when his thoughts drifted to you. But, how could you possibly ever find him attractive?? His lack of facial hair and muscle was unmanly, even by human standards.
You were strangely beautiful to Kili. You weren't as tall or lithe as the Elves, nor as creamy-skinned or graceful. You had perfect little imperfections in your skin and freckles. Your hair had character, being curly. And you almost always wore your hair out of your face, the odd stray hair coming to frame it perfectly. And from the moment he sensed his feelings for you some weeks ago, Kili had felt his confidence decrease. He felt as if he had no chance with 12 other eligible Dwarves in the Company that could easily win you over with their toned bodies and lavish, braided hair.
The Princeling wasn't oblivious to how you often spent your time with Ori, looking through his books and learning how to knit the varying patterns he practiced. And despite how Ori was much younger than Kili, he had an attractive amount of body hair. He was nowhere near as confident as the Prince, nor as rehearsed in the prowess of battle. However, it didn't stop the envy that crept its way into his heart and mind. Looks had always mattered to everyone else before, so why would it be any different now?
When your cooler hands brushed over his face whilst you worked, it left burning tingles in his skin. You noted the perfect shaping of his eyebrows, running your thumbs over them to smooth any stray hairs. His features were strong, to be expected of a man in Dwarven culture. You swept loose pieces of his fringe from his cheeks, his stubble seductively rough beneath your skin.
Some part of you preferred Kili without a beard. All the hair that hung from the others was so extravagant, but you liked seeing more of his face. His cheeky smile was your favourite thing to see, even on a bad day. Perhaps a beard would hide that?
Raking his fringe up for slight volume, you found yourself taken by how ethereal he seemed. You questioned yourself on whether or not it was your lack of food and rest from the day, but you couldn't ignore the fondness that crept into your soul at being so close with him. A smile marked your face, setting the last strands of his dark locks aside.
"Beautiful", you'd murmured, a sense of accomplishment filling your heart. The warmth of his skin increased beneath your lingering fingertips, his hazel gaze playing over your softer features. To his greater surprise, there was only genuity in your expression. Not wanting you to retreat from him, Kili placed his heated callouses over your own, fighting the way his eyes slightly glazed over with tears.
"Thank you". He offered you one of those boyish smiles, taking comfort in the suppleness of your skin beneath his own. You caressed the stubble beneath your skin, grazing your thumb over the smoothness of his sharp cheekbone. Kili chuckled in amusement, "I look a bit more dignified now".
"Nonsense. Your hair looked fitting either way", you laughed softly, squeezing the warmer hands that held your own. "It's truly beautiful. Stubble and all". His dark brows had risen, wonder filling his kind gaze. You really didn't mind his lack of body hair??
"I always thought my stubble was– I thought it may have been unsightly", he confessed with the hints of a nervous smile, your brows creasing in light concern. "Beards are of high importance in my culture".
"Not in mine", you shrugged, slowly trailing your thumb over his dimples and slightly chapped lips. "Besides, how else would I be able to see that gorgeous smile?". The shy grin that slowly splayed onto his face at your words was the happiest one you'd ever seen on the Prince. Your words had dissolved any unsurities in his heart. "That's the one", you giggled, Kili trying and failing to restrain his smile.
"I think I like yours better", he murmured, sweeping one of your stray curls from your face. "It's the one I fell for, after all".
The small gap between you both closed, Kili's burning lips meeting yours in a gentle touch. It started off unsure and light, becoming almost fervent when your head tilted and lips parted to allow his tongue to slip past them. Using his hand resting along your jaw, he guided your head closer to his own, relishing in the need to be as close to you as possible. His stubble scratched the skin of your face pleasurably, a soft sigh exhaling through your nose.
The both of you separated, your lips swollen and tingling from the caresses and nibbles of his own. Kili's eyes finally fluttered open after a few moments, skimming your face with a soft tenderness. "Abnâmul", he whispered, running a heated digit over your tingling lips. "You'll have to let me do that more often".
"I'll have to think about it", you mused, squeezing the hand that cradled your face affectionately.
"Hopefully not too hard", Kili sighed in pretend dejection, tracing his thumb along your cheek. "I do really love you".
"I'm glad the feeling is mutual", you chuckled softly, pressing your lips to his with a playfulness. No longer burdened with his insecurities, Kili's laughter chased your own,
"Me too".
The End. . .
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Hey, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed this fic! As always, any and all feedback is welcome!! If you wish to be a part of my taglist, check out my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in! ❤❤❤
* * *
Translations;
Abnâmul = "beautiful", (Khuzdul)
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TAGLIST; @fizzyxcustard @lathalea @emrfangirl
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mixiury · 5 months
Text
Always remembering you - Genshin x GN reader
Characters: Wanderer, Itto, Kaveh, Neuvillette
Summary: You have to leave for a long period of time. What do they do after it? (Basically them missing you)
A/N: I am alive!! Sorry for not posting in a while. Honestly I haven't been very motivated to write but I randomly got this idea so I hope yall like it! (I edited some parts and typos I noticed so hopefully now it is better :)
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Wanderer has no need for things as transitory and insignificant as the attention of others— specially if it comes from an human being— so what makes you believe that you would be an exception?
It's been decades since he last sought companionship after all. The only reason why he asked you to accompany him is to complete the tasks Nahida assigned him. It is just easier for you to do all the hard work instead of him. Don't try to read between the lines.
Yes. Of course it was necessary to stop in the middle of Sumeru's forest to contemplate the surroundings for the past hour. It is part of his job to ensure that there are no potential dangers near the city.
Actually, the fact that the path you were taking was blocked by a tree that mysteriously collapsed in front of you due to a strong blown of wind has nothing to do with him. Why would you think he did that in the first place? You're imagining things.
The only reason he's holding your hand right now is so you don't get lost or delay him by this absurdly long new path he's chosen. Yes, it's clearly the only option you two have, so don't complain and keep walking.
But if you need a moment to rest he won't refuse. And if at any point you decide to lean your head on his shoulder, he won't push you away either. Just don't get used to this, he only allows it because he knows how fragile human bodies are and he prefers to avoid Nahida's scolding for leaving you in the middle of nowhere.
And if you still have doubts, that's right, the fact that all these things happen after not being able to talk to you all week is totally a coincidence.
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Itto, on the other hand, doesn't seem to know the word discretion.
What do you mean you have another important commission to do? But didn't you just finished one yesterday? How about you join him in a beetle tournament instead? Or maybe you can spend time with the gang? Come on, he knows you can't refuse this unique opportunity!
Hmm? That you always spend time with them..? But this time is different! This time they will do something so different and so incredible that you just can't loose! Trust him. Arataki Itto always keep his word!
And it is just that it seems like the entire universe is sending you signals to spend time with him. From Itto posters that mysteriously appear on paper airplanes to his name in the alphabet soup you eat.
But if all that is not enough to convince you that it is the destiny the one putting you together, somehow you both end up meeting multiple times a day. No matter where you look, he will be there.
Do you have to collect different flowers from Inazuma for your commission? It turns out that floristry is one of his hidden talents! Do you have to give them to someone? How curious! He was just talking to that same person! Are you saying he is brothering them? Of course not! He would never do that... On purpose.
There's no point in questioning him, somehow he always has an excuse- (although it doesn't mean they make sense). It's only until you look up at the sky and see fireworks with Itto's face, his signature, and the words "I miss you" that he finally tells you the truth behind all the coincidences that has happened during the day.
However, the moment does not last long, because shortly afterwards different guards come running to capture Itto for alleged harassment and "illegal use" of fireworks without authorization. Complete defamation if you ask him.
At the end, you and Kuki have to visit him in jail and take care of all the paperwork for the damage him and the gang caused. But hey, at least that means his plan worked?
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Kaveh directly doesn't seems able to function properly.
Don't get him wrong, he knows better than anyone how hard it must be for you to be so busy. After all, he has found himself in the same situation as you multiple times in the past.
It's just that he had never noticed the influence you have on his life until that moment, where instead of having breakfast together at the same place as always he finds himself eating preheated noodles from the microwave.
For the first time in a long time he's having trouble concentrating on his work, unable to finish the commission he's been putting off for the last week— not so surprisingly— the same amount of time since you traveled to Fontaine.
Because every time he looks at the paper on the desk he can't stop his hand from drawing sketches of you, his mind clouded with questions about your safety and how you are doing.
Kaveh doesn't really know how to control that feeling so he does the only thing he knows in situations like this; Overwork himself. Going from basically doing nothing all week to creating almost a month's worth of work in a few days.
Of course, it doesn't take much for his friends to notice, trying to reason with him more than once. However, if there is something to recognize from Kaveh it is his stubbornness, reassuring them that everything is completely under control.
It's only until he ends up falling asleep during a conversation with Tighnari that he decides to take action into his own hands, sending you a letter telling you about the situation because your boyfriend can barely stay awake during the day and has been living of coffee.
And despite his reproaches towards Tighnari, he can't help but feel glad the moment you return to Sumeru a few days earlier than anticipated, updating you on every little detail that happened while you were gone and sleeping for almost a full day no long after. He may thank Tighnari later.
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Unlike the others, Neuvillette feels totally fine after you left.
Of course he notice your absence and perhaps your name has appeared in his mind more than three times in the day but that's all. There is no need to worry about it, Take all the time you need.
He continues with his routine as always. He is also a very busy person so he doesn't think a lot of it. He's just walking around in the same place where you met because he's taking a short break. Nothing more than that.
In fact, you might even be able to see him ordering at the same coffee shop where you had your first date, sitting at the same table he sat at back then. But that isn't related to this situation, so please continue what you are doing.
But if you notice how Fontaine has fallen into heavy rain this last month, he will just reassure you that it's completely normal. Probably is just the weather that hasn't been stable lately. Nothing to worry about. Everything is under control as it always has been.
Yet, even if he manages to fool himself, all the melusines notice the way his gaze wanders from the documents on his desk to the empty seat next to him. His eyes shining every moment he hears the door of his office open just to met with the disappointment in them when he realizes it's not you on the other side.
Because despite his attempts to distract himself, it's simply impossible when every place he goes has some memory of you. He knows you won't be away for long so why does he feel like something is missing when you're not around?
Melusines try to talk with him, even requesting help to Furina, but it doesn't seems to be an end of the countless rains that has been occurring since you left.
He will just continue denying his feelings over and over, completely oblivious of them and the attempts of others to cheer him up.
It's hard for Neuvillette to understand the reason for his the emptiness he feels, but when he sees you once again he can't help but notice the great sense of relief that comes with you, immediately asking you how you are doing and making sure you feel welcome.
Maybe with the pass of the time he will be able to come in terms with his feelings but for now all he wants to do is to spend more time with you.
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lvrcpid · 1 year
Text
disciples.
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your eyes fluttered open as the sun peered through the entrance of the mauri. your body ached in all different spots, the feeling almost dreadful.
“you’re awake, how are you feeling?” a voice called from behind you. it was tonowari. wasn’t he the olo’eyktan? why was he here with you?
noticing your confusion, the metkayina man smiled down at you and lifted you up slowly, minding your head in his hold.
“my wife and daughter went out to gather more herbs for your medicine, i offered to watch you until you woke up.” a small smile spread across your face as your looked up at him “thank you..” you spoke softly as he stood up and gave you a curt nod.
“here child, you need to eat” he brought over a bowl of soup for you. you took the bowl and set it down, your appetite not really setting in just yet. tonowari noticed this and sat down in front of you, taking your hands into yours.
“what’s on your mind child? you seem troubled” you hesitated for a while, you didn’t know if to trust him or not. you haven’t had a stable male figure for basically your entire life, you didn’t know how to open up to anyone.
“well i uh..” you stopped yourself, catching your breath before sighing. you had only met tonowari a few times, and those times were genuinely horrifying, he was a big scary man, you didn’t know he could be this kind hearted.
“well it’s my family..” you started, staring down at the bowl , refraining from eye contact. “i was under there for 4 days before they realized i was gone..they probably would’ve gone longer if we’re being honest” you began to choke up. the thought of their betrayal running circles in your mind.
“it’s been like that my whole life..when neteyam was born it was fine for a while, of course he was a baby he needed more attention .. then came lo’ak..then kiri..” you sighed and looked up at him, his eyes softened as he listened to your troubles, the man took pity on you. you were just a child. no child should go through this
“my parents were more worried about them..my brother was to train to be the next olo’eyktan and kiri to be tsakarem..my parents didn’t believe that i was good enough to do any of the important stuff, they wanted me to stay the hunter of the family..so they gave them all of the attention.”
you pulled a small beaded string from your hair and showed it to the man in front of you. “the last time something was added to my songcord was when i was 3, i had to add things myself..like when i completed my right of passage..alone..or when i caught my first fish..alone” you sighed, reminiscing over your childhood, how blank and bleak it seemed.
tonowari listened to it all. all of your troubles, all of your struggles. he was fuming. you were such a beautiful soul, so innocent and curious, how could your own family treat you like this.
you both didn’t notice ronal and tsireya return. the pair both shared a pitiful glance before carefully sitting at your side. ao’nung was standing there the entire time, he hadn’t left for the morning just yet. at first he didn’t like you, you were some forest freak who came intruding on their land, but after hearing your life story, the male felt for you, he felt bad for you.
he sat next to tsireya as they all began comforting you. the feeling was uncomfortable to say the least, but you weirdly felt safe with them, like that lonely void was being filled little by little.
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after the conversation, ao’nung came and sat next to you, offering his hand “i know my mom said you shouldn’t leave just yet..but you need some fresh air, i know it can get stuffy in here sometimes”
you hesitated. didn’t he JUST try to fight you not even last week, now he’s being a sweetheart? you thought for a minute, hesitantly taking his hand as he raised you up, walking with you outside.
“hey uh..im sorry about last week and..your entire family, nobody deserves that..even if you are a forest freak” he smiled at you. you rolled your eyes at his last comment but smiled anyways, appreciating the apology.
“hey nung!- woah (y/n)?! where have you been?!” you turned your head to see neteyams friend rotxo, he had been there the day you all had arrived to awa’atlu.
“you know..died..came back to life you know, the regular” you joked. “come on not funny (y/n)” he said. your face went serious “oh no im not joking see?” you pointed to your chest and he almost fainted. “man you’re such a wimp” ao’nung laughed and pushed his friend back up on his feet.
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soon eclipse fell onto awa’atlu, the sounds of the ocean waves and forest critters filled the air. you were back in tsahìk mauri with ronal checking up on you.
“you know you don’t have to go back home..you’re more than welcome to stay here with us” ronal spoke, breaking the silence.
“no im okay..i don’t wanna intrude into your family” you spoke, your bones still sore. “nonsense child..it is clear your family has..forsaken you..” ronal trailed off, attempting to be careful with her words. “you are only a child..you need a place to stay..now im not asking..i am telling..” she finished, standing up and looking down at you.
“ao’nung and tonowari will retrieve your things tomorrow..from now on you are staying with us..as a family..i need to keep an eye on you child..” she bent back down and cupped her 4 fingered hand on your cheek.
you felt her warm hands turn into an embrace. you weren’t sure if it was because she was the tsahìk or what but her embrace felt motherly, something you hadn’t experienced. she smelled of flowers and the ocean. a welcoming smell. you held back tears as you softly returned the embrace, mumbling out a quick thank you before breaking the hug. you didn’t want to go back home, you didn’t want to be with that family anymore.
they have the other kids, they’ll be fine without me. i’m pretty sure they don’t even care
when tsireya and aonung heard the news , they were over joyed! ao’nung was finally glad to not be the oldest anymore and he seemingly enjoyed your presence after the day. tsireya was over the moon, she finally had someone who she felt comfortable enough around to tell anything. ronal and tonowari were just as happy, your smiling face after seeing your tearful expression with your family made them happy. they silently promised to eachother they were going to give you the best life you could have.
you finally had a family. a place you were accepted and loved. no matter the conditions.
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when news broke to the sullys, they were truly distraught. you felt bad as you stood in their mauri, head hung low as tonowari stood tall behind you.
“you can’t just take our child!” neytiri yelled, walking towards you and attempting to pull you into her embrace. you shook her off and sighed “they aren’t taking me mom..i’m going willingly” the family fell silent.
jake furrowed his eyebrows before moving to a now sobbing neytiri as she attempted to open her arms to you. you moved back harshly as you turned away from her.
“(y/n) you can’t just leave! we’re your family!” lo’ak shouted, stomping up to you and grabbing your hand. you quickly shoved him away and hissed at him. lo’aks face dropped. you never hissed at him before.
“(y/n) come on just think this through..we’re sorry okay? just don’t leave..we need you..” neteyam slid over to your slowly, refraining from touching you seeing as though that was the last thing you needed.
“neteyam stop-“ you felt a body attach itself to your leg. you looked down and began tearing up. it was tuk. she was sobbing. “(y/n) please don’t go! i’ll be good i’m sorry just please don’t go!!” she clung to you like glue.
kiri couldn’t stand to look at you, knowing she would cry at the scene.
lo’ak was now stomping over to his dad and looking back at neteyam “dad do something!!” his voice cracked , almost crying.
jake looked at you with pleading eyes, almost saying “please don’t do this to us”. you stared down at tuk, tears glossing your eyes as you softly moved tuk from your leg and stormed out of the mauri, mumbling a quick “im sorry” under your breath.
ao’nung walked inside and gave his father a look before beginning to grab your things , jake having to hold neytiri back as ao’nung began to grab your things and move them out.
“dude come on..mom! dad! do something!!” lo’ak was now sobbing as he attempted to plead with his parents. but there was nothing anyone could do, you were gone, out of their grasp.
ronal was outside of the mauri and had heard everything, taking your now sobbing figure into her embrace, rubbing your back as you sobbed into her shoulder. she felt bad for you. she knew you wanted to leave, but knew it would pain you to do so.
neteyam had been crying before a wave of anger washed over him. they were your family, how could you just up and leave them like that.
he pushed past ao’nung before storming to where you and ronal were, yelling out “we’re your family!! sullys stick together remember!! this is selfish!!” he yelled purely from anger and hurt.
his words trigged something in you. selfish. you? selfish.
your sobbing began to die down as you turned to neteyam, storming up to him and grabbing his braids, tossing him back into the mauri.
“you wanna talk family? let’s talk family shall we?”
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iliketangerines · 1 month
Note
could i interest you in a reader who takes pity on shang tsung after he gets beat up by the crowd trying to sell his scam potion? takes him in and tends to his wounds, lets him rest in her bed, only for him to grow unhealthily obsessed with her because no one has ever cared for him before :) uh oh
keeping watch of you
a/n: god shang tsung and dark content just goes sooo well together
pairing: obssessed!shang tsung x gn!reader
warnings: nsfw (MDNI), kidnapping at end, wet dreams of blowjobs, bondage, somnophilia, dacryphilia
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you’re walking by with a basket of fresh fruits from the forest next to the village, the sun has just started to set and rain clouds gather on the horizon
you squint at the storm brewing in the distance, thankful that you decided to have the sixth sense to leave the forest early today
as you walk back to your cottage, you pass by a new traveling caravan and a man passed out on the ground next to it, bruised, bloody, and beaten
you look around, no one seems to be paying the man any mind, but your heart aches at the sight of bruises blooming along the sites of exposed skin on his torn clothes and blood seeping into his clothing
you can’t do this, you’re already low on supplies and food in forest has been scarce to find these days
but…
you curse at yourself and drag yourself over to the man to help him out
he seems to be old, but the fading make-up along with the way the beard half hangs off his face tells you he was actually quite young underneath all that guise, and you wonder what the hell you’re getting yourself into
you close up his caravan for him and grab onto his shoulders so you can carry him back to your place
he can barely walk, but you’re surprised to find you can carry him quite well
but it makes sense when you strip off his clothes to assess the damage and find you can see his rib cage poking through the skin
you place your fruits on the ground next to the counters and go wet a rag from a pail of water you already have in the cottage
you clean his wounds carefully and gingerly, using your limited medicinal knowledge you learned from your parents to crush herbs and apply them to his body
you press the back of your hand against his forehead and find it unnaturally warm, and so you start up a hot soup with vegetables and lay a cool rag on him
you help him eat the broth, and well, not to pat yourself on the back, but you think you did a pretty good job patching up the man
however, he is taking up your bed, and so you wrap yourself up in an extra sweater and fall asleep in the dining room chair, falling asleep quickly
Shang Tsung wakes up with a start, heart pounding as he wonders where he is
he groans and places a hand to his broken ribs but finds it wrapped and covered in a finely-made medicinal-smelling herb
he spots you sleeping in an old kitchen chair, jacket fallen to the floor, arms crossed, head tilted down and drool slightly seeping out of your mouth as you sleep
he wants to know who you are, but he has to get moving, to go check his wares and go to the next town before the village people beat him senseless again
he sits up, sucking in a pained breath as his head pounds and his ribs ache
you startle in the corner, jumping up and rubbing at your eyes as you mumble saying that you’re up you’re up, no need to get the ice water
but you quickly recover from your dream and spot Shang Tsung in the corner and rush over to him to push him back down on your bed
you berate him, telling him that he must get his rest, that you locked up his little caravan so everything inside is safe, and that he should really be laying back down
Shang Tsung is slightly bewildered at your kindness but lays back down dutifully and watches you walk around the small home in a hurried fashion as you grab a small container and a small pail of water
you wash away the old salve and apply new ones to his wounds, and you pour him a glass of water from a glass jug of drinking water that you have
you tell him to rest, that you have some scrolls right next to the bed for him to read if he gets bored, but you need to gather your fruit and make your wares
you wave at him goodbye and leave but not before shooting him a glare and telling him to get some more rest
the routine repeats itself for a month as he heals from his broken ribs and slashes, and Shang Tsung learns about you at his time in your home
he learns that you make jams and jellies, collecting fruit from the nearby forests and crushing the fruits with your hands and storing them in containers
he learns that you love children and give them free fruits from your basket that you had spent hours picking
he learns that you’re struggling for money right now because no one has the money to buy a luxury like jam or fresh fruits, but you can’t lower the prices either because your home is falling apart and repairs are expensive
and you can’t quit now, your family came from making jams and jellies and selling fresh fruits, and you are too stubborn to give up the family tradition
he helps you around the house when you’re here, washing the fruits and helping you crush them up with his hands
he tells you stories of his travels and you quip with him about his stories, telling him that maybe he shouldn’t be selling sham potions
strangely enough, he doesn’t feel the need to defend his position around you
you feed him food, keep the home warm, make him laugh
he even remembers on one notable occasion that you had bought him a new shirt despite your financial struggles, and when he learned the price, he almost had you return it
with every passing day, he feels himself growing more and more obsessed with you, with your kindness, your laughter, your smile, everything about you
you’re the first person to have shown him kindness in the centuries since he first started learning sorcery, and now that he’s finally felt a glimpse of warmness, he wants to be consumed by the heat
whenever you leave to collect fruits, he raids your dresser, finding your panties and pulling down his pants to reveal his aching cock
he wraps your panties around him and spreads his pre-cum along the shaft as he imagines that it’s your sweet mouth instead
he thinks you would look so pretty on your knees, sucking on his cock and whining and needy for him to please you, to fuck you
you would have tears dripping down your face, and you would rub your thighs together, desperate for any type of friction
he wonders whether or not you would be able to take his entire cock in his throat or if he would have to train your throat to do so
he wonders how soft your skin is underneath your clothes, and he wonders how wet and warm your pussy would be around his cock
he thinks you’d make the prettiest sounds, all fucked-out and whiny as you beg him for more as he teases you with feather light touches
he wants to cover you up in his marks, bite you and claim you as his and keep you away from prying eyes
Shang Tsung groans as he pumps at his cock faster, cumming into your panties with a loud moan, and his chest heaves as he tries to calm himself
he hides the shameful act, washing your panties and drying them quickly before folding it neatly and stuffing it back into your drawer
he watches you as you walk around the house, cutting up vegetables and walking between the table and the stirring pot, unaware that the strings on your clothing are loosening to reveal the dip between your chest
and he can barely contain himself as he imagines sucking at your chest and teasing your nipples sore and swollen
when he finally convinces you to sleep on the bed with him, saying that you can’t be comfortable sleeping on that rickety old chair, he waits for you to fall asleep before turning to look at your features traced by the soft moonlight
he wonders how you would react if he tied you down to the bed and settle in between your legs to awake you
he wonders if you would scream and cry or whimper and whine for him to make you cum
he reads every single scroll you have, and one day he finds your diary tucked in a hidden place underneath your bed
he reads through it, learns every dirty little secret you have, every single thing you like and every single thing you hate
when you finally bring him out into the village, he sees the way the other people in the village stare at you, your chest, your legs, your waist, your hips, and he wants to hide you away just for himself
or he wants to kill them instead, he can’t decide
one night, you’re late arriving home, and Damashi approaches him with an offer he can't refuse
Shang Tsung can become the most powerful sorcerer in all of the realms, and he can have you all to himself
finally, on a rainy day, he waves goodbye to you and starts his studies underneath Damashi
and months later, when Shang Tsung’s powerful and in the high courts, he travels back in the stealth of the night and whisks you away
you wake up with a collar on your neck and body stripped bare of clothing
you see Shang Tsung, but the crazed look in his eye tells you all you need to know
he finally has you all to himself, and when he drags you closer to him by the collar around your neck, Shang Tsung knows he’ll never let go now
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wittysuns · 4 months
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𝓲. 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘆 | Aegon II Targaryen
which in Aegon II Targaryen runaway from King’s Landing with his dragon and founds love on the way.
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��My sweet Leo, you must take it easy on the eating.” Eva says to her 5-year-old son who was practically eating fast.
The little boy wanted to go play outside with his ‘friend’ and wait for his father to return home. Eva didn’t know how to tell her son that his father wasn’t coming back because he had left her for another woman who was a few years older than her. Just like she pretends to her son imagine a friend does exist. His father has been fighting in the war and doesn’t when he is coming back.
“Mama! I want to go outside and play! Want to play with my friend.” Leo replies to his mother with a cute tone of his voice.
Eva sighs softly and walks back to the pot of chicken soup she made. She grabbed a bowl of soup went back to the table of two and sat down.
Living with her 5-year-old son was stressful for her. Eva had to leave her son home alone while she went out selling her home loaves of bread. She couldn’t afford a kind person to take care of her child because she needed to have a lot of money to play with them.
“All done!” Leo rushed out of his seat almost falling. Sometimes it scared her when he did that.
“Leo be careful.” Eva’s motherly voice told her child. “And don’t talk to strangers.” She reportedly told her son.
“Okay, mama!”
Whenever her child left she would close her eyes and pray to god that nothing bad would happen to her son.
Leo opens the door leaving it wide open for his mother could hear or see him. Eva knew he would come back whenever she called his name.
The little boy ran around the pile of huge grass that was almost as tall as him. This was his favorite place to run around and it was also right in front of his home. He was playing around with his ‘friends’ and having a good time with them. Play all those games that kid plays with their friends.
A huge crack came from the forest. He makes Leo a curious child and slowly walks over to the forest. He looks back at his home but he knows his way back home because he has been into the forest before.
One of his mother’s strict rules is not to go to the forest because that is where danger usually happens. He turns back to the forest and walks into the forest that his mother forbids him to enter.
He carefully watched every surrounding he walked on and made sure no dangerous animal could attack him. Until he heard a shriek scaring him and regretting coming to the forest but he needed to know.
Leo follows the path where he hears the shriek coming from. He walks past multiple big trees when he stops his track after finding a large beast that is bigger than his home. It had gleaming gold scales and pale pink wing membranes. His eyes widened when he saw an unconscious person lying on the ground.
The large beast was nudging the person as if he was trying to wake them up. He steps a bit forward when he triggers the beast after stepping on a branch. The golden beast snapped his head and saw a little boy.
He just stared at the golden beast not knowing what to do in this moment. The beast only looked at the boy and huffed at the boy scaring him half to death. It went back on shaking the person that was still there.
Then the little boy’s mind clicked. It was probably the owner of his beast. Maybe he needs help.
“Does your owner need help?” Leo thundered as he could to the beast. It turns its head to him again and then growls out to the little boy getting answers.
“I can help you—well my mama can help, she does a great job!” The boy tells the beast.
This time the beast didn’t make any sound but grabbed the unconscious person off the ground by his large teething mouth and got on his four feet. Leo didn’t know how big the beast was and the beast was big all right.
Leo made sure the beast was ready to follow him. It looked like he was all ready to follow him back home. The little boy started walking back home with the beast and wondering how his mother would react. As he and the beast are walking back, the boy starts talking to the beast all about his mother and how he had the best mother in the world.
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hellcat8908 · 2 months
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Love Lost 3 Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Language, Angst, Self-Hatred
please read the previous parts before continuing if you haven't already.
One Two
You woke to the delicious smell of soup and found a bowl on your nightstand with some warm bread. "You slept through dinner, so I brought you some soup." Eris says as he puts down the book he was reading. "Thank you." You say as you gently pick up the bowl and start eating. "I really appreciate you letting me stay here." You tell him between bites. "Glad to have you back for as long as you choose to stay." He turns his attention back to his book and lets you eat in peace. Once you're done, you get up to take your dishes back to the kitchen. "Leave them, I'll get them later." He says, closing his book and sitting it down.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks. "Which part? Azriel breaking my heart or failing at carrying my baby?" You ask, regretting the tone in your voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out like that." You apologize. "Stop apologizing for everything. You're allowed to feel however you want, and after everything you've been through, I don't expect you to be cheerful." Eris says. "I feel like a failure, Eris. My body couldn't carry the baby. Madja said there was no way of knowing and nothing that could've been done."
You try blinking away your tears. Eris holds your hand as you continue. "I know how badly he wants a baby but then to be cursed with a mate who can't carry it. I've failed him and now he resents me. I'm not even sure I can go through this again even if I wanted to try for another baby." You admit as your head hangs low and the tears fall. Eris wraps his arms around you, "You're not a failure, and you're definitely not a curse. You're one of the strongest women I know to go through this. I know none of this is easy for you, but you're being too hard on yourself." He says.
"Be gentle with yourself, especially while you heal. You've been through enough that you don't need to fight yourself on top of everything else." He says as he comforts you. You start to calm down, and the tears stop. "You need to get some rest. You've had a rough day." He says as he stands and gathers your dishes. "We'll spend some time together tomorrow, maybe a walk through the forest." He says, making you smile. You used to love walks in the forest when you lived here. "Goodnight, Eris." You say before turning off the light. "Goodnight, y/n." He says before shutting the door.
Azriel knelt on the ground as his wings sagged around him. Cassian had never seen him look so broken. "What do you mean you're the reason?" Cass asks again. "I'm not good enough to be a father. The mother realized it and took the baby before I ever had the chance to try. Y/n was meant for being a mother. You've seen her with Nyx. I'm being punished for never being good enough." Azriel says as his eyes water.
"Azriel, Madja said there was no way of knowing this would happen, and there was nothing that could've been done. You need to quit blaming yourself for this. The only thing you should be punished for is abandoning your mate during the darkest part of her life. That's what you should feel guilty about." Cassian says. "What matters most now is what you do now." He says, placing a reassuring hand on Azriel's shoulder. "I need to see her, to try to fix this, if not fix it at least talk to her and tell her eveything."
"We'll go, but if she doesn't want to see you, we're leaving. She's been through enough, and you're going to do this on her terms." Cassian states. "Understood." Azriel says as he gets to his feet. "Rhys will meet us there." Cassian says before they winnow to the house. The house is dark and quiet as they enter. Azriel calls your name as he makes his way towards the bedroom. He calls several more times after finding the bedroom empty. "Azriel, you're going to want to see this." Cassian calls from the kitchen. Azriel quickly makes his way downstairs, finding Rhys and Cassian standing at the table.
He picks up the note, and with each word, his heart breaks more and more. "She's gone. She told me when I left to remember that when I walked out the door that I made the decision. At the time, I was too angry and upset to realize what she meant. I've lost her, and I lost the best part of my life." He says as he heart shatters with realization. Tears fall from his eyes as Cassian and Rhys help him into the chair. "We'll find her." Rhys says, trying to comfort Azriel. "You'll only find her if she wants to be found." Azriel says, "and I've given her every reason to not want to be found by any of us."
"Cassian stay with him, I'm going to inquire if any of the other courts have seen or heard from her, also I'll check with Feyre and Nesta and see if she said anything to them about where she was going or where she might go." Rhys says before heading back to the river house. "You should try to get some rest." Cassian says. "How can I sleep when it hurts this bad?" Azriel says. "What about the bond? Can't you try to reach her that way." Cassian asks. "The bond has been sealed off from us since I shut her out. I doubt she'd open it back up now. And knowing her, she's probably shut Rhys out of her mind as well." Azriel says as he stands and grabs a drink from the cabinet, pouring one for him and one for Cassian.
Next Part: 4
@crazylokonugget
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weird-an · 11 months
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Billy isn't Jim's son and he never will be.
He's a hurt kid that kind of needed a safe place and apparently Jim is caring enough to not let him end up in the streets when he found him sleeping in his annoying Camaro for seven days in a row.
So now Jim is living with a psychic teenager and scared one in a Cabin in the woods. It's a struggle.
Billy doesn't know how to act around him and it's not that Jim can blame him for it. It's not like there's a manual for fucked up people living together. The place is bursting with tension and one day it will go up in flames and possibly take the whole forest with it.
Billy either hides in his room or is out on a date. He's got a lot of dates. So many that Jim thought he might have a girlfriend. It took Jim three weeks to get the courage and just talk to Billy. Communicating isn't his strongest suit.
"If you've got a girlfriend, she can come over, too," he repeats like he had practiced in the mirror for at least five mornings.
Billy freezes. He's chewing on the inside of his cheek and stares at Jim like he's accusing him of commiting felony. Which Jim doesn't, even though he notices the faint smell of weed sometimes when he comes home after a nightshift. To be honest, he'd rather that Billy shared his stash. They both need to calm the fuck down.
"Nah," Billy says, "It's only hot chicks for one night for me."
He doesn't look so sure. In fact Jim thinks he might sees him mouthing the words back at himself when he goes out that night.
The truth comes to light a week later, when Billy is sick. He's coughing, his chest rattling, skin grey and his eyes are red.
"You're not going anywhere," Jim says and positions himself in front of the door. "You're sick. Cancel the date. I'll make you a tea or whatever."
Billy mopes in his room for an hour, after Jim catches him trying to sneak out of the window, when he brought him his tea and a cup of instant soup.
The kid seemed stunned and annoyed at the same time, but at least he eats and drinks what he is given.
The door bell rings. Billy drops his spoon and wants to get up.
"Back to bed," Jim grunts when he's going to get the door.
Steve Harrington stands in front of him. Preppy as usual, even though more hairspray in that mop of hair - or so Jim thinks.
"Is Billy here?"
"Why would you care?" Jim frowns. He didn't know people like Harrington even hung out with people outside of their bubble.
"We were supposed to meet." Steve rubs his neck. "Billy... didn't show up."
Jim needs a whole minute to process that.
"Fucking hell." Jim rubs his face. When did he sign up for this? He doesn't even know what queer means, he didn't sign up for this. It's like when Sara first tried to walk and Jim discovered that the kitchen had a lot more corners than he thought.
He leads Steve to Billy's room. Opens the door. Billy gapes at him.
"Your hot chick for one night is here," Jim grumbles, because he isn't sure what else to say.
He closes the door, when he hears Steve saying "you called me a hot chick?" followed by a "oh man, I'm sorry you caught what I had last week."
Jim pours himself a whiskey on the rocks. It's surreal.
But he's kind of glad Billy has a friend. Or... boyfriend, rather. Jim isn't sure if that's the name for it. He hasn't ever met a gay person.
God, he's so lost. He wants to do it right, he finds. Because Billy isn't Jim's son, but sometimes Jim feels like his father.
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