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hopepetal · 10 months

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Hi!

So @applestruda and I have been working on a little thing for the boatem knights au. I hope you enjoy this next arc of the story as much as we do.

You can find the masterlist of the previous bkau fic here, and I will be posting this on ao3 as well.

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated :)

Impulse was painfully, bitterly, human. Just a normal guy, with normal hair and normal eyes and friends that were anything but. Even Mumbo, who he'd thought to be his one human companion, turned out to be something different. Something special.

When it had finally been revealed to the knights that Mumbo was, in fact, a shapeshifter, no one was really surprised. With the amount of non-humans in the group, and magically gifted ones besides, it was only a matter of time before Mumbo revealed that he was obviously, not human.

While they were all joking around and laughing over Mumbo's newly revealed ability, Scar had turned to Impulse with that friendly smile of his and asked, “So, when are you gonna reveal your super secret backstory to us, Impulse?”

Impulse had laughed off the pang of bitterness and guilt combined (and how stupid was that, feeling guilty over the fact that he didn't have a special ability or secret backstory to reveal?) and shook his head. “Nah,” he had responded with a shrug, “I'm just a guy. Just Impulse.”

Just a guy. Just Impulse.

Simple words that had become a mantra over the past few days, lingering in the back of Impulse's mind. A whispered chant, just audible enough to catch his attention but hardly loud enough to deserve a shushing. They were an apt description of what he was– of who he was, of course, and Impulse knew that. He had known that all his life, and, up until this point, had convinced himself that he was fine with that.

(He never had been ‘fine’ with it in the first place. It’s why he trained from dawn till dusk for years, honing his strength and skills. He couldn’t fly, couldn’t breathe underwater, couldn’t withstand a fiery blaze, and most certainly couldn’t teleport. But he was smart, and he was strong, and that was enough. Wasn’t it?)

Mumbo was good with redstone, too. He was a genius, even. What with his constant inventions and how he thought outside of the traditional redstone conventions, and the way he brushed off any compliments with a wave and a soft, “It’s quite simple, really.”

Impulse’s mother had told him that everyone was special. That they were all made up of stardust and the love of the universe. It was an old wive’s tale, but it had been comforting.

Now, surrounded by shapeshifters and avians and magical beings, Impulse was wondering if the universe forgot to give him a little stardust.

The sun had just begun to rise, bathing the world in its golden light, as Impulse got dressed and headed out to the makeshift training area to work on his swordplay. It wasn’t long before he was hacking away at one of the many training dummies the knights had made together in an effort to “work on their arts and crafts skills”, going through the familiar motions of a swordfight.

Just a guy. Just Impulse.

He’d always wondered what it was like to fly. To dive deep into the ocean, without fear of drowning. To never feel the terrible pain of burns, or to get to where you wanted to be instantly.

Just a guy. Just Impulse.

It wasn’t like being a human was bad. Not at all! Being human was great! He didn’t have to worry about getting hurt by the rain, or his wings being targeted in battle, or, void forbid, being hunted for sport. He could do so much as a human!

But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

Just a guy.

Sweat dripped down the back of his neck as he continued fighting, his breaths coming in short pants. In his mind’s eye, the training dummy was an enemy, and it was his job to defeat it. Slicing and stabbing and slashing, Impulse went back and forth in a dance all his own, in a battle that held no weight on the future.

Just–

“Impulse?”

Pulled from his reverie, Impulse stumbled to a rather clumsy halt, his sword arm falling to his side as he looked over for who called his name. Standing at the edge of the arena was Pearl, leaning against the little wooden fence that surrounded it. She wore a bright smile as always, but something akin to concern shone in her eyes, barely hidden.

“Huh?” Impulse got out, before blinking and shaking his head. “Sorry, Pearl, I uh– I didn’t see you there. Were you calling me?” His muscles were aching, and he was absolutely drenched in sweat. Just how long had he been training for?

Pearl nodded. “Yeah, mate. You were fighting that dummy with the intention to kill, huh?” she joked, gesturing to the very much falling apart training dummy. She continued, “You were training for a while. Lost in your own world, were ya?”

Impulse glanced up at the sky, internally wincing at how high the sun had climbed without him noticing. “Yeahhh…” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “Kinda got caught up in my own thoughts, y’know.” He looked over at the training dummy. “Uh… sorry, mister dummy,” he apologized awkwardly, which Pearl found hilarious judging by her soft laughter.

“You should come get some breakfast and wash up,” Pearl advised, “I’m heading to the village in a bit to pick up some stuff– do you wanna come with?”

Impulse shrugged, before walking over to where Pearl was and hopping the fence. “Sounds like fun, and I don’t have anything else planned.”

Pearl grinned, and gave Impulse a fistbump. “Great! I’ll go get the horses ready, if you wanna go eat and change real quick?”

“Will do!” Impulse gave her an over the top salute. “Thanks, Pearl!”

He began to head back to his tent at a slow jog, and decided that maybe it was best if he ignored that soft voice in his head. His friends were incredibly perceptive, and the last thing that he wanted was for them to get all worried about him and start asking questions.

Would they judge you? Call you jealous?

Maybe. And maybe Impulse was jealous, at least a little. Did that make him a bad person? For wishing he could be more than what he was? For hoping that he had some chance at standing on the same level as his friends?

Impulse tried to shake those thoughts out of his head as he quickly scarfed down some breakfast and changed out of his sweat-soaked training clothes. Pearl had just finished with getting the horses ready by the time Impulse returned, and greeted him with a smile. “Ready to go?”

Impulse returned her grin as he mounted his horse. “You know it. Road trip time!”

The trip to the village was a short but pleasant ride through the forest, on a well-worn path the knights had traveled many times. Impulse and Pearl made idle conversation as they rode, Pearl mentioning that she wanted to stop by a couple of shops and the library. They arrived at the village after about thirty minutes and dismounted, tying their horses reins to the hitching post before grabbing their bags and walking into the village.

Impulse had been here before, of course, but visits had been rare recently with… well, everything that had happened. It was nice to get back out and just walk through the village, without any life-threatening or world-ending danger looming over their heads. And as a bonus, he got to hang out with Pearl, which he always enjoyed.

They went through the shops one by one, Pearl picking up supplies and things they had run out of. Eventually, they were finished, and Pearl pulled Impulse rather excitedly toward the library. He didn’t blame her– he was the exact same way around candy shops. Everyone needed a place that they were excited to go to, in his opinion.

The librarian– a woman with messy black hair– looked up from behind the counter and greeted them with a nod, before going back to reading her book. Impulse caught a glimpse of the name tag that was pinned to her shirt, the name ‘Evelyn’ written in neat cursive.

Pearl led Impulse into a room full of bookshelves and, of course, books. “I’m going to go look for some books,” she whispered to him, “you can go off and see if there’s anything that catches your eye.”

Impulse nodded. “Alright. See you in a bit,” he whispered back, and watched Pearl disappear into the maze of bookshelves.

Looking around, Impulse began to wander. The library was well stocked with literature on nearly every subject he could think of, with golden labels on the end of every bookshelf to indicate what the books in that particular section were about. He found himself walking past the shelves that normally would’ve had his attention– books about redstone and industry ignored as he gazed at the shelves.

Finally, a particular bookshelf caught his eye. The label told him that the books here were about all things supernatural, and with a shrug, he began to walk through the aisle. Most books seemed to be rather thick, scholarly texts, which made sense given the topic. A couple books drew his attention– an old book with a faded purple cover and block letters that spelled out Evolution in all capitals, a book on curses, and a book that probably had been misplaced, given its title– The Legend of Theseus. The mythology shelf was right next to the supernatural one, so Impulse took the book and brought it back to where it was hopefully supposed to be.

Once the book was back in the mythology section– next to a very old book with a cracked spine and strange symbols on the cover– Impulse headed back to the supernatural section, glancing over the titles with relative disinterest until a particular book caught his eye. He bent down and carefully took it from the shelf, instinctively brushing off the cover and flipping it open to the cover page. Skimming the summary of the book, Impulse found himself nodding along to the words.

He closed the book and glanced around. Pearl was nowhere to be seen, so he likely still had some time. Tucking the book under his arm, Impulse walked back to the main room of the library, placing the book on the counter. He cleared his throat awkwardly, and Evelyn looked up from her book. “I’d like to check this out, please.”

Evelyn took the book, looking at the spine and writing down something on the sheet in front of her. “An’ what’s your name, sir?” she asked, not looking up from the sheet.

Impulse blinked. “Ah– uh, Impulse.”

Evelyn wrote his name down, before setting her red feather pen down and handing him the book. “Alright, sir. If you’d please return this by the end of next month, and no writin’ or rippin’ any pages out unless you wanna pay for it.”

Impulse took the book and placed it in his bag with a thank you, just as Pearl returned with her collection of books. She gave him a smile, which Impulse returned– albeit a little nervously.

As they were walking out of the library, Pearl asked Impulse if he had seen anything he liked. Impulse answered with a shrug and a shake of his head. “Nah. I’m not much of a reader.”

Something must’ve spooked the horses while they were gone, as Impulse’s horse was clearly nervous when they returned. He calmed the horse down with a bit of petting and a treat Pearl had bought for their horses before mounting up and beginning the journey back home.

It was a little past noon when they returned, and they were greeted by Scar and a barely awake Grian. Mumbo was busy working on something, but he soon ran over to say hi and help with the supplies and horses.

The rest of the day went by as normally as it could– it was a calm day for the most part, the only “mishap” being Grian stealing Mumbo’s rocket launcher as revenge for drawing a mustache on him while he slept. They all ate dinner together as they usually did, and after, Impulse left to go to his tent.

Finally alone and in the quiet, Impulse took the book out from his bag, brushing his fingers over the title.

The Art of Summoning - Demons.

He opened the book.

Obviously, a book given out at a library wasn’t about to teach him how to summon a demon– void knows he didn’t want to do that, anyway– but Impulse had always been fascinated by demons. He had been told a lot of stories as a child, which probably was the reason for his interest, but there was also… something else. He had been drawn– pulled to this book, almost. As if by magic, or something.

…some demons can grant their summoner a wish– whether it be super strength, speed, or even flight, there have been records of people making a contract with a demon for their own benefit. When asked why, many of their answers were similar. They wanted to be unique, or special, and had become desperate.

That… sounded familiar. Impulse pressed his lips together in a thin line as he continued to read. He obviously wasn’t desperate enough to summon a demon– he doubted he would even be able to if he wanted to! Which he didn’t. Because that would be crazy.

As he went to turn the page, a sharp pain shot through the tip of his finger. Impulse sucked in air through his teeth as he yanked his hand away, examining the fresh papercut. “Oh, come on…” He shook out his hand, annoyed, before going to flip the page.

As soon as he touched the book, Impulse found that his fingers were almost glued to the page. He couldn’t pull away, couldn’t pull the book off his hand, though he tried frantically to do so. It was then that he noticed a small bead of blood had welled up from the cut, and smeared on the page when he had gone to flip it again.

That… was probably bad.

Just as he was considering calling for help, a soft voice spoke up in his mind. Not soft enough to be inaudible, but not loud enough to be quieted.

Hello.

Impulse tensed up, looking around the tent. “...I didn’t mean to summon you,” he began, “assuming you’re…?”

A demon? The voice was… quite pleasant, actually. Not like anything Impulse had thought a demon would sound like. Yes, I am one. And you haven’t summoned me. Just drawn my attention. I’ve been trapped in this book for quite some time, you see. It’s been a long while since anyone has opened it.

“Why were you trapped inside the book?” Impulse asked, still on edge. “What did you do?”

Well, that’s rude. The demon sounded as if it were pouting, as if Impulse had offended it. I didn’t do anything. I just… It sighed, and its voice took on a tone of loneliness. I was young when I came to this world. I… wanted to be different, I guess, from the rest of the demons. Everyone had this cool thing going for them… one could curse multiple people at once, one could take human form, and everyone else… had something that made them special. I didn’t. I’m just your regular ol’ demon, residing in your thoughts.

Impulse frowned, settling the book carefully on his lap. “So… why did you get put in the book?”

I’m getting to that. I… got excited. I wanted to show everyone that I was special, too, by cursing someone. I didn’t really think things through. The demon paused. I don’t even want to curse someone, anymore. I just want to go home.

“I’m… sorry…” Impulse began, “that sounds really rough.” He sighed, leaning back slightly. “I get it, though, as crazy as that sounds.” He briefly debated on whether or not he should tell someone– a demon, no less– about what he’d been going through. “I’m… the only human in my friend group,” he started, hesitant, “and it’s just… I’ve always been just a guy. Just Impulse. And no matter what I do, I’ll never be able to change that.”

There was a moment of silence, and Impulse could almost feel the demon thinking. Well… maybe you could. Maybe, we could both help each other out.

Impulse’s brow furrowed. “What are you thinking of?”

I know, you were against summoning demons earlier, but… hear me out, okay? I could tell you how to summon me, and not only would that free me from this book, but I could also maybe grant your wish!

The demon sounded… genuinely so excited at the prospect of being freed. Being trapped, all alone, for however long it had been, must’ve been really difficult. Impulse didn’t blame the demon for wanting to be free. He would want the same thing, were he in the demon’s position.

…and maybe, just maybe, a small, selfish part of him spoke up and influenced his reasoning. But Impulse closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed. “Alright. I’ll help you. Tell me how to summon you.”

Excellent choice! Alright, first things first, you’re going to…

Impulse was painfully, bitterly human.

He refused to be just Impulse forever.

#my writing #boatem knights au #impulsesv #pearlescentmoon #grian #goodtimeswithscar #mumbo jumbo #hermitcraft fanfic

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asa-do-your-thing · 4 months

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Burn me down

Michael Gavey x Reader

18+ Minors DNI WC: 4.6k Warnings: Cigarettes, Alcohol, Smut, Wax Play, dom-ish Michael, Nerd in the streets, freak in the sheets A/N: I've asked you to choose a little something for my Birthday and you chose this! Yay! Here's to my 22nd birthday and a rather sweet and kinky Michael.

You stood in front of the Pub, taking quick drags of your cigarette. You damned the horrendous british weather, you damned the fact that the student's exchange office apparently 'lost' your exams in the mail, making you re-sit everything in the winter break, but most of all you damned that Michael.

He was supposed to be your buddy - your mentor, showing you around campus and helping you connect with the other students, though all he did was invite you to the pub where he'd drink his pint in relative silence before leaving again.

It wasn't like you disliked STEM students, no; most of them were the chillest friends one could wish for. But he? He was a right royal pain in the ass, trying to convince you of his intelligence everytime you'd meet up.

You shivered as the cold wind whipped around you, making your eyes water and your teeth chatter. The rain pelted down hard, turning the pavement into a slick, shiny mess that squelched beneath your feet with each step. You finished your cigarette quickly, flicking it away into a nearby puddle with a silent curse as rain dripped onto your fingers. The smoke from it mingled with the damp air, creating an acrid smell that mixed with the scent of wet earth and cobblestones underfoot.

You tucked the next one into your mouth, feeling the familiar burn as you lit it from a soggy match that barely stayed alight in the weather. Pulling out your phone from your jacket pocket, you frowned when you saw no new messages from Michael; he'd stood you up again.

Blowing out a plume of smoke, you sucked your teeth and were just about to turn back and head home when you just-about-avoided giving Michael a burn as he appeared out of nowhere, stepping way too close to you.

"Sorry," he mumbled and looked down at your shivering form. "You said to meet up at eight, why would you text me if I'm here at quarter to?"

You took a step back and offered him a cigarette, which he quickly declined. "It's rude to be on time, it's best to be early. Doesn't matter, you're here now," you said and gave him a one over. That man really did not have a single fashionable piece of clothing to his name, it was incredible. He looked like he'd raided your father's wardrobe. "What's the plan for this evening?"

Michael shrugged, his eyes clung to the glowing end of your cigarette as though the answer was hidden in the embers. "The usual, I suppose," he stammered. "Grab a pint, talk about... things?"

You chuckled, "Ah, the endlessly fascinating 'things'," you teased, flicking some ash off your cigarette onto the pavement. It mingled with the small droplets of rain on the ground like stardust on a cosmic canvas. "How absolutely riveting."

He frowned slightly and looked at you; his eyebrows knitted tightly with confusion. "I didn't mean to be vague," he explained. "It's just..."

"It's just...?" you repeated with curiosity.

"Everything," he muttered. "Everything has been so much more... complicated since meeting you."

You looked at him in surprise as your next words hung precariously in the cold night air. You weren't sure where this conversation was going, but it certainly wasn't in the direction you'd expected.

"Complicated?" you echoed his words, blowing a cloud of smoke into the wind. The bitter cold bit at your face and you withdrew back into your collar. His expression was unreadable underneath the dim wintry light, giving him an aura of mystery that was oddly arresting.

"Yes," he nodded slowly before rubbing his hands together for warmth. "Because you're so different from what I'm used to."

You raised an eyebrow at that comment but said nothing, intrigued by his sudden openness, a stark contrast to his reticent persona up until now.

"But it's not a bad thing," he quickly added, pulling up his shoulders.

God, he was so awkward. Watching two drunk, scantily dressed girls leave the pub, you could see into the establishment and shook your head, grumbling.

"That damned thing's full to the brim. Would you be cool with coming to my apartment and have a drink or two there? I should still have beer and schnapps." Tossing your cigarette butt away you gave him a small, cheeky grin. "Or are you afraid of being alone with a woman?"

Michael's eyes widened at your bold comment, but after a moment his face relaxed into a sheepish smile. "No, I'm not afraid," he admitted. His voice was quiet but firm. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes so you decided not to push any further.

"Good," you replied, slightly impressed by the unexpected admission. "It'd be a shame to go and drink my beer by myself." You proceeded to lead the way to your apartment, just a few streets away. The cold rain was unrelenting and by the time you reached your building, both of you were drenched to the bone.

As soon as you stepped inside however, warm, dry air greeted you like a comforting blanket. You hurried up the worn wooden staircase leading to your apartment, Michael following closely behind. He looked around with curiosity and slight apprehension as he entered your abode for the first time.

Your apartment was small but cozy. A worn-out sofa sat before a small TV set, a coffee table littered with textbooks and research papers spread out before it. The walls were filled with photographs of family and friends; some from home, some from university. The kitchen was compact but well organized, a fridge full of post-it reminders of upcoming exams and assignments.

"Make yourself comfortable," you told him as you headed into the bath to grab some towels for drying off. He hesitated for a moment before finally settling down on the edge of your sofa.

When you returned with two towels, his eyes were darting around your living room - taking in all the photos and personal items that adorned it - like pieces of a puzzle about yourself that he was eager to solve.

"Different..." he mumbled again, almost to himself while his gaze lingered on a picture of you posing with your old high school friends.

"What?" you asked, throwing him one of the towels and ruffling your hair with the other.

He fumbled to catch it and cleared his throat. "You're just... different from what I expected," he repeated, sounding unsure of whether he was complimenting or criticizing you.

"And how's that?" you quirked an eyebrow at him as you headed towards the kitchen, deciding to ignore any potential insult for now. "Want a beer or schnapps?"

"Uh... a beer, please," he said, trying to wipe the rain off his glasses with the towel you gave him.

You opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles. "And how exactly am I different?" you asked again, popping off the caps and joining him on the couch.

He took the offered drink quietly, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "You’re more… real," he finally said, looking into your eyes earnestly. "I thought you're just another hippie lit student, but you do seem to be... uh, more scientific."

You burst out laughing at that comment, causing him to blush awkwardly. "Are you saying I am deep?" You took a gulp from your bottle before continuing, "Well, despite your stand-offishness and your slight academic snobbery, Michael," you said pointing at him with the bottle. "You are not so bad yourself."

He looked taken aback and looked away, taking a gulp of beer. Deciding that there wouldn't be much conversation from now on, which was usual for the both of you, you set your beer aside and walked to your wardrobe, pulling out an oversized T-Shirt and some short shorts, deciding to get out of your wet clothes. Not bothering to go into another room - you were still wearing your underwear, so there wasn't much to see anyways, you argued with yourself - you changed quickly.

When you turned back to Michael, he was staring at you with a startled expression, his cheeks flaming red. He quickly averted his gaze, muttering a soft, "Sorry."

"No worries," you replied nonchalantly, taking your seat back on the couch. You enjoyed his discomfort and couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

Silence hung in the room as both of you focused on your beer bottles, the familiar scent of hops and barley filling the room. The distant sounds of the city could be heard through the thin walls of your apartment as well as the constant tapping of rain hitting the windowsill.

After a while, you broke the silence, "So... about these 'things' we're supposed to talk about?" You smirked at him, noticing how he squirmed under your gaze.

He sighed heavily before looking at you directly; eyes full of seriousness. "I think... I think I like how things are complicated with you."

You were taken aback at his straightforward confession and blinked at him. He looked just as surprised by his own boldness, face paling slightly.

"Look," he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, "what I mean to say is... I find it intriguing, being around you. You don't strive to fit in any mold and that's... refreshing. And after our... our... evenings, you don't go about shouting it from the rooftops."

You stared at him for a good few seconds before bursting into laughter once again. His obvious discomfort combined with his honesty was endearing in its own strange way. Of course he was mighty uncomfortable about your deeper, emotional talks once you were drunk enough, but who were you to hold it against him.

"You are one weird bloke," you said amidst your laughing fits.

His face reddened once more but this time he nervously stood up and sat down flush next to you, eliciting another round of small giggles from you. "What are you doing? Are you trying to cuddle me?"

"No, I'm not trying to cuddle you," he protested, looking both embarrassed and indignant. Yet, despite his words, he didn't move away. Instead, he found himself moving closer to you on the sofa, closing the distance between you two.

"Then what do you call this?" you asked, laughter subsiding as you turned to face him. His close proximity made your heart beat a little faster, to your own surprise.

"I call this... um... adjusting for... comfort," he said, sounding nervous and uncertain. But his eyes never left yours and there was determination in them that was hard to ignore.

"Yeah? And who's comfort are we talking about here?" you asked, looking at him with amusement. You wondered how much of his boldness was down to the beer or simply his genuine personality.

He hesitated before answering, "Yours. And mine."

Grinning, you set your bottle down and turned towards him, laying an arm over his shoulder (which wasn't very easy, that damned man was so much taller than you were) and licked your lips. "Oh really? Yours as well? I'd never have guessed." With that, you closed the gap between the two of you and kissed him softly, giving him the option to retreat from it if he'd wish to.

Much to your surprise, your kiss elicited a small groan from him and made him wrap his arms around you, tighter than you'd have thought. So your suspicions were true then - he was as interested in you as you were in him.

Michael's touch was warm, his scent of rain and musk mingling with your own, his unsure hands very rough on you, though you had to confess that you didn't mind it as much as you'd have thoought you would. He tasted like beer and something else, something uniquely him. As you kissed him deeper, you could feel his heart pounding against your chest. There was a spark that ignited between the two of you - a mutual curiosity and eagerness that had been brewing beneath the surface for quite some time.

When you broke the kiss, you both gasped for air, eyes locked on each other's. "I think we should take this to bed," you whispered huskily, leaning in for another kiss before standing up and offering him a hand to help him up too. He took it gratefully, his palm soft against yours as he rose from the couch with you guiding him through the darkened room towards your bedroom door. Once inside, you turned lit one of your copious scented candles, casting a soft yellow glow across the space.

You both undressed slowly, shedding layers until all that remained were your underwear and his slightly damp shirt clinginging to his broad shoulders. His tall, lanky frame towered over you as he sat down heavily on the mattress, pulling you into his lap with an easy strength that made your heart race faster than before. The wet shirt clung to your skin as it rubbed against yours during every movement.

As you lay in his lap, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, his fingers tracing your spine and shoulders, you couldn't help but notice how warm and safe you felt in his embrace. He kissed your neck softly, the stubble on his chin brushing against your skin, sending shivers down your back. You moaned lightly as he nibbled on your earlobe, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His other hand slowly found its way to your breast, cupping it gently as he explored its softness beneath the padded fabric, causing you to gasp. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin. You held your breath as he kneaded it gently, his touch sending sparks of desire straight to your core.

You couldn't believe how comfortable you were with him already; with someone you barely knew but somehow understood on a deeper level than anyone else ever had. The alcohol maybe? Or maybe it was just him—his innocent yet bold nature? You'd never know. All that mattered was this moment—his hand on your breast, the heat radiating from his body, the wet shirt clinging to both of you as if they were magnetized—made every nerve ending tingle with anticipation.

You pushed yourself closer into his touch, arching your back slightly when he pinched the nipple between his fingers teasingly before licking and sucking it softly. A groan escaped your lips at the sensation. You thought he'd be a virgin, but much to your surprise by the way he expertly unclasped your bra behind your back with a single hand and guided you gently onto your back it seemed like he did have a fair amount of practice.

His cock was throbbing against his pants, begging to be freed, but it seemed like he knew that wasn't the only thing that mattered right now. He wanted to get to know you in every way possible - and not just physically. He loved the taste of your lips on his, tangy from the beer but still sweet and soft. Both of you were shivering with anticipation. His hands traced up and down your sides slowly, feeling every curve and edge of your body as if they were made for each other. His fingers brushed against your underwear-covered mound and he gasped slightly at the wetness there before moving upwards to cup one of your breasts, holding it gently.

Your lips trembled as you whispered, "How long have you been wanting this?" Your breath caught in your throat as he clumsily lay next to you, his throbbing arousal pressed against your chilled skin. The way his fingers expertly teased and twisted your nipple made it clear that this was not a spontaneous decision, but rather a burning desire that had been building up inside him for a while. And making out with someone like Michael Gavey would never be just a spontaneous act - he would've started planning this weeks before.

"I... uh...", he muttered, clearly trying to conjure up a lie that he'd never thought about it, so you gave him a small smile. "Didn't mean to offend you," you mumbled as you moved a bit closer to him. His lips met yours again, hungrily, his tongue digging deep into your mouth as you felt his arousal press against your leg. You reached down and grasped it through his pants, feeling the warmth and length of him beneath the cotton. He groaned into the kiss, pressing himself against you harder. You could feel his heart racing as much as yours was, and it only fueled your desire even more. You could taste the beer on his lips and feel the barely-there stubble against your chin as he traced nervous kisses down your jawline, across your collarbone, and lower to your breasts.

When he took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking gently at first and then harder as you gasped, you arched your back off the mattress. He moaned into your skin, humming quietly as he continued to tease you with his lips and teeth. His free hand slid down between your legs, pushing aside the damp fabric of your underwear to touch you directly. Your hips bucked up towards his hand instinctively as he found your already slick folds and began to rub gently. The softness of his touch only added to the intensity of the sensation that coursed through you both.

Your breathing grew heavier as you ground yourself against his hand, needing more contact but also not wanting to beg for him. As Michael's tongue danced around yours, your kisses became more intense, your bodies pressing closer together. His heart was racing, his breathing heavy with anticipation. His hand slid up your side, tracing the curve of your waist before landing softly on the lace of your black panties. You caught your breath as he ran his fingers lightly over the fabric, feeling the softness against his skin. He leaned away from the kiss gradually, smirking at your flushed face and parted lips as he pulled the delicate garment down to reveal what lay beneath.

"Oh," he breathed out, taking in the sight of you - already wet and ready for him. He gave a mocking chuckle, "So ready for me, like a little slut." You blushed even deeper and looked away, unable to meet his gaze. His free hand found its way to your chin and tilted it up gently until you met his eyes again. There was a twinkle in his green irises that made your stomach flip-flop uncontrollably.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips once more in a slow kiss that lingered for far too long before pulling away. A teasing smirk lifted the corners of his mouth as he took in another deep breath and sat up, straddling you, effectively trapping you under him. "Now tell me, how long have you been wanting this? How long have you been moaning my name before you went to sleep?"

Opening and closing your mouth, you blushed heavily and licked your lips as he gingerly picked up the candle and let a tiny droplet of wax fall onto your belly. "Michael!" you gasped and blushed even further, especially as you could see him biting his lips. Shit, you thought, he likes to see you writhing under him. "Michael, I... I... didn't want to bother you, I..."

To that, he only lifted an eyebrow and grinned, letting more hot wax drip onto your chest, which was echoed by a yelping moan. "You still haven't answered my question."

The heat from the candle wax dripping onto your skin sent shivers down your spine, but you didn't flinch away from him. Instead, you inhaled sharply and arched into his touch, feeling every inch of his presence against yours. His hands gently caressed your skin as he waited for your answer, his thumb brushing across the sensitive flesh where he had dotted it with hot wax. You licked your lips nervously, trying to gather enough courage to speak the truth. You couldn't lie to him anymore - you felt like you might explode at any second and were this close to begging him to fuck you senseless.

Oh yes, you knew he'd do that. These shy, standoffish nerds - you knew for a fact that they had the biggest cocks and were willing to use them.

"I've wanted this for weeks," you finally admitted in a barely audible whisper. "Every time I saw you at Uni or when we sat together in the library, I could feel myself getting wet just thinking about what it would be like to be underneath you." Your blush deepened at the admission, but at least now it was out in the open. He was looking at you with such intense curiosity that you could feel yourself melting under his gaze.

As if in response to your confession, he set the candle down again and kissed a trail from your collarbone to your other nipple, nipping softly before catching it between his teeth and sucking gently. Your back arched off the mattress as pleasure coursed through you; he knew exactly what he was doing to make you lose control. His other hand moved lower still, fingertips dancing over your clit. "Hm," he mumbled, "I think I still haven't heard enough."

Whimpring, you tossed your head from one side to the other, trying your hardest to form a coherent sentence, or even just a word, the way he was circling your nub with an ever quickening pace. Losing all your dignity, you looked up at him and whined needily. "Please, Michael, fuck, fuck me... I need you, I..."

You felt his hot breath on your skin as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your earlobe before whispering, "You need me?" He nibbled softly, sending shivers down your spine. "I think that can be arranged..." His voice was trembling with anticipation, giving away his own nervousness and excitement. He trailed his tongue along the edge of your earlobe, grazing it gently as he slid off of you and stood up.

You couldn't help but watch him as he pulled down his underpants. His cock sprang free, hard and ready for action, glistening with his precum as it lazily slapped up ointo his his stomach. He was certainly well endowed - not the thickest, but by god that must've been at least twenty centimetres. You licked your lips unconsciously, wanting nothing more than to taste him, to feel him inside you. He smiled shyly as he quickly rummagged through the pile of discarded clothes and pulled out a condom from his wallet.

"On your hands and knees," he commanded in that same low voice that made your insides melt as he opened the package and rolled the rubber quickly over his cock.

Obediently you complied, presenting yourself to him in a way that only heightened the anticipation building between the two of you. The room was dark now as he extinguished the candle, casting eerie shadows on the walls as he moved behind you. His warm breath fanned over the nape of your neck making you shiver again as he ran a hand through your hair teasingly.

A sharp intake of breath escaped from you when he lightly skimmed a kiss over your spine before tracing it back up, holding tightly onto your hair as you could feel him positioning himself in front of your pulsating pussy.

Without another word, Michael's cockhead pressed against your entrance, teasing and stretching it before he finally found the sweet spot. A low moan escaped from his lips as he sank in to the hilt, filling you up completely. He pushed further inside until he was fully sheathed within your tight heat. You felt him to the core, his length stretching and filling you up completely.

The feeling of his length inside you was both exhilarating and overwhelming, making you moan out in pleasure as he gently began to move within you. His hands cupped your breasts, massaging them gently as he slowly withdrew and thrust back in again. Every inch of him flexed inside you, rubbing against your walls as if trying to find that perfect spot that would make you scream his name.

He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into you hard, forcing a gasp from your lips. His hips pounded into you with unyielding force as it seemed like every muscle in his body tensed up with desire. The sound of skin smacking against skin echoed around the room, creating a rhythm that seemed to match the pounding of your hearts in your ears.

He looked down at your exposed ass cheeks while he kept pounding into you, admiring how they shook and clenched with every thrust. One hand moved around to caress them in tandem with his hips, making sure those cheeks received some love too as he slapped them harshly.

Your legs trembled beneath him as he startet grunting more loudly, his fingers clenching around your hips, pushing and pulling in a way that made you feel like he was using you like a toy. Fuck, who would've thought that Michael Gavey was such a freak. Though as soon as that thought had run through your mind, he wrapped his arm around you, quickly rubbing your engorged clit while he pistoned into you at an impossible pace. That was enough for you to scream into your pillow and to half-collapse, him following you almost instantly as your cunt squeezed his cock dry.

He collapsed onto your back, panting heavily against your neck. His heart hammered against your spine, matching the erratic rhythm of your own. He remained in you for a few more moments, his pulsating cock still buried deep inside you; you could feel him twitching with every throb of his orgasm.

Finally, he rolled off of you and onto his side, pulling out of you carefully as he did so. You whimpered at the sudden lack of contact, your body feeling oddly empty without him filling you up. He looked at you then; his eyes soft and full of wonderment as he took in the sight of you lying there—sated, flushed, and thoroughly fucked.

You turned to face him on the bed, reaching out to touch his chest as if to make sure he was really there beside you. His skin was damp with sweat, and he shivered as your fingers traced the contours of his chest and abdomen before finally coming to rest on his softening cock. You gave it a gentle squeeze, making him groan and buck into your touch.

“I’m... I’m sorry,” he stammered shyly after a moment’s silence. “I… um… didn’t mean to be so…” He trailed off uncertainly, looking rather sheepish as he glanced down at you.

But instead of chastising him or laughing at his awkwardness—as any other woman might have done—you simply smiled up at him before leaning in for a kiss. It was sweet and tender—a stark contrast from the roughness that had transpired between you two moments ago.

"Michael," you murmured against his lips once the kiss broke, "do you think I didn't enjoy it?"

He looked a bit taken aback, his brows furrowing in confusion as he met your gaze. "I-I mean... I just..." he stammered, clearly still embarrassed by the sudden shift between his lustful and awkward side. It was endearing to see him this flustered, considering moments ago he had been a commanding force.

"Hush," you cooed, pressing a finger to his lips to silence his ramblings. "I enjoyed every single breathless second of it," you reassured him. His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red at your words, but his eyes sparkled with relief and satisfaction.

You saw him gulp down his lingering nervousness before he finally managed to utter something coherent again. "I'm glad," he whispered, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. "Really glad."

#asas fics #michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey fanfic #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #happy birthday to me #michael gavey smut

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dykeofth3ndless · 1 year

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Dream finally has the chance to shower Hob with all his affection and maybe goes a..bit overboard? hob has so many pearls his neck hangs heavy with them, fat emerald rings for every finger, necklaces made of actual strings of stars that glitter in his chest hair. hob privately thinks it’s cute how much Dream has in common with his ravens, showering his favorite human with shiny things.

& hob loves it. he’s always been a caretaker, always had to look out for himself. he was a medieval peasant, for gods sake! no one’s ever brought him flowers before, except maybe for his many fake funerals (and that’s a depressing thought). he still gets bashful every time Dream brings him gifts made of stardust, made by dreams own hands. Hob is generally such a confident, charming person, quick to laugh at himself, and this rare shy side of him makes dream absolutely feral. hob will sprawl out in his lap, eating grapes and dressed in robes of starlight that drip off his shoulders without a hint of embarrassment, but the first time Dream leans in so his lips brush the shell of hobs ear and calls him princess, he blushes red as a cherry. Dream is insufferably smug after that one for weeks, so much that poor Matthew almost quits

#dreamling #sandman #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #sandman comics

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nightlight-stardust-and-rain · 3 months

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SW fanfic idea:

During the war, the Coruscant Guard kind of adopts a street kid, because clearly they don't have any guardian worthy of the name and end up in their custody way too often.

It just so happens that the kid's name is Alexsandr Kallus.

Snippets :

(sadly this doesn't change anything when order 66 rolls in)

Kallus' facial hair in this au is actually a nod to the clones' tendency to have distinct facial hair.

The Guards used to call him Sasha or Sash'ika. (he was pretty small back then)

He began to drink caff because it reminded him of Commander Fox. Even now the smell is a comfort. The first time he drank it he had a flashback to one of the numerous times he helped one of the medics, Cerise, with hiding Fox's caff because the man needed sleep post-haste.

Due to spending quite a bit of time with the aforementioned medic, Kallus actually has some competence in the domain.

When he becomes ISB and gets armor he paints the inside of it with Corrie-red designs. Several of the designs come directly from the clones he was closest to.

When he was a kid, Kallus wanted to join the Coruscant Guard and used to excitedly tell the clones about the way he would paint his armor when he would get it. Said clones were pretty touched and usually refrained from telling him they had no idea if a non-clone was even allowed to join the Guard.

When dressed as a civilian, Kallus leans (both unconsciously and on purpose) towards clothes a distinct shade of red.

When he joins the rebellion, he's actually pretty uneasy around Rex. He reminds Kallus of what happened to his family and the way they lost their free will after order 66. So he avoids Rex for a while until the Ghost crew confronts him about it.

After the truth comes out, Rex slowly begins to think about Kallus as a nephew.

At some points Rex finds a blank set of clone armor and gives it to Kallus, who paints it Corrie-red and wears it diligently. Zeb is just happy his trouble-prone friend finally has some protection.

Clones are an especially sensitive point for Kallus and he often tries to find and de-chip surviving clones while working for Intel. Before he joined the rebels he used to try to put clones in safe posts on peaceful planets, possibly even planets where a surgeon might perform brain surgery if paid enough. After he joins he actively tries to bring clones back to base and de-chip them. Rex is very happy to help. It's their own mission within the missions.

One of the clones Rex and Kallus manage to save end up being one of the captains of the Guard. She and Kallus were pretty close, and there's an emotional reunion involved once she wakes up from surgery.

(there is also a shovel talk involved once she realizes how Zeb looks at their Sasha)

(Captain Amaranth decides to stay with the Rebellion if only make sure Kallus is safe. She is unfit for active duty due to rather severe PTSD and decides to become one of the base's cooks. She is much more successful at getting Kallus to eat regularly than anyone else)

(she also loves to tell stories about Kallus as a kid. One of her favorites is how he painted flowers on her pauldron when she asked him to help her with the new paint. Kallus later gives her a pauldron with much better drawn flowers)

(everyone has called her mom at some point, but none more so than Kallus. Some recruits actually believe she's Kallus' actual mom)

Rex and Kallus bonding by quietly re-painting their armor together.

Kallus getting to tell stories about his family to the Ghost crew and other friends! He hasn't been able to talk about the clones who mostly raised him since..... Well since he lost them, essentially. So this is good!

He got his work ethic from Fox. Amaranth says that's not a good thing.

(she's right)

At some point he discovers that Vader snapped Fox's neck and let me tell you the sith is lucky he's already dead. (Kallus is also secretly a bit relieved because that's a pretty fast and painless death. At least he didn't suffer too much....)

To counteract the angst of this last one, please imagine some Corrie dumping a sleepy Sasha on top of Fox so that the commander can't move, which ends up with Fox sleeping too (mission accomplished!). Little Alexsandr and Fox napping curled up together on a couch.......

#star wars #star wars rebels #alexsandr kallus #agent kallus #captain rex #Dripping stardust #Also I haven't watched TBB so I don't. Know what the chips do to the clones exactly.......#Here I'm assuming it strips them of their free will completely and fully

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vulpixisananimal · 7 days

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Loop Number 3

(You look awful.)

(No, really, you look absolutely terrible. You're in the bathroom looking at yourself in the mirror. Baggy eye, hair's a mess, You somehow look even paler than normal.)

(You were forced back to front suddenly. You were around that morning chatting with Isa and the others, things got blurry after that. You do remember some things, but not really remember, more just know. You know that you and Odile went to the library again, found some things on wishes, Bonnie ran to them... And then... Then... Then you woke up again!)

(You looped again.)

(Would this make it loop three then? Tee-hee~)

(... Eugh...)

(Either way, looping back a second time had drained you a lot. You had to run to the bathroom to throw up, probably woke everyone up in the process.)

(Oh Stardust where aaaare youuuuu~)

"You alright, Sif?"

(It was Isabeau, that wonderful Defender. Maybe you could have hid your condition if you hadn't been so loud, but no chance about it now. They've all been much more perceptive of you.)

"Never better, Isa!" (You said, your words dripping with sarcasm. You hoped for a chuckle. He didn't.)

"Well, if you need a hand or, or if I need to get you anything, just let me know okay?"

(You breathe in, and out.)

(Eugh...)

(After gathering yourself, you leave the bathroom. Isa was waiting by the door, instantly springing into Isabeau-like action.)

"Sif! Are you sure you're alright?" (He leaned down to your level. You could hear a sizzling from distant cooking. The others were deffinatly up already.) "I was about to get out of bed and I heard you, uh-"

"I'm fine Isabeau" (You said with a smile.) "I'm just a little... I just had a nightmare is all!"

(Stars, you were trying to think of a pun! And you couldn't! Oh you were loosing your touch alright, and now Isabeau was looking at you even MORE concerned.)

"... If you want to talk about it we can."

"Nope!" (You say, almost on instinct.) "Just some loopy stuff, not that bad, I'll meet you for breakfast!"

(Smooth, Loop. You really made him feel reassured. You waved and walked away back to your room to get properly dressed. It took a minute, but you got your old outfit together, hat included. Isabeau was able to make you a replacement after Siffrin lost yours. Not that Siffrin wore it much these days, but you still liked it. It was more yours than his now.)

(You met up with your party for breakfast. Quesadillas, same as last loop. They were pretty good. Good morning, How are you feeling Siffrin, oh I'm feeling great, what's for breakfast? Etc. you could feel yourself zoning out already.)

"You sure you're alright?" (Nille asked, handing you a plate and taking a seat. Alright, maybe things were a bit different this loop) "Can't go investigating when your sick."

"Oh it's nothing." (You say with a smile. Please be convincing.)

"That's not very convincing, Siffrin." (Odile was glaring you from behind her book.)

(You wince, you were out of practice.) "is it convincing enough to eat breakfast first?"

(Nille chuckled at that, Odile huffed. Isabeau chuckled too, but his heart wasn't in it.)

(Ouch...)

(You take a bite out of your quesadilla. Nice and cheesy, as tasty as last time)

(Why ARE we keeping it a secret anyway?)

(Oh good morning to you too stardust~)

(Hey Loop. What happened to us? I only have bits and pieces.)

(Oh quite a bit, but our dear third friend isn't sharing some of the details, tee hee~)

(In the time it took for you to take a bite of your breakfast to putting it back on the plate, you had already told Siffrin as much as you knew happened at the library. One of the advantages of sharing a head, information doesn't need to travel far.)

(So, should we keep this a secret?)

(That's your choice, stardust~)

(... You breath in, and out.)

"Ok! I can talk about it now." (You say with a smile.)

"After one bite?"

"It was a very good bite, tee hee~"

(Another look from Odile. You don't go tee hee, remember? A few moments later, Bonnie came through and sat down as well, having finished whatever was being done in the kitchen, Mirabelle joined soon after. They were all looking at you.)

(How do we do this...)

(We could be a bit cheeky about it.)

(Cheeky?)

(Cheeky. You lean back, trying to look as relaxed as possible.) "We shouldn't bother with the library, it wasn't very useful~"

(Their looks changed from concern to confusion, and very quickly to realization.)

"You looped again!?!?" (Mirabelle exclaimed.)

"Maybe."

"What happened?! Are you hurt? Did you get attacked?!? Or maybe-"

(You reach over and put a finger over Isabeau panicking mouth.) "I'll get to that, Beau~"

"Slip on a fruit peel again?" (Bonny said, smugly. You shouldn't have told them that part. You roll your eyes.)

"I'll look for one of those next time." (You paused for the chorus of "No!!!" From your party before continuing.) "Well, if you must know this is the second time we've done today. Me and Odile went to the library, and you four to the defenders."

(You tried to keep your smile going.) "We didn't find much, and something happened at the defenders, because Bonnie came running to us."

"... And..?" (Odile prompted you to continue.)

(We're, doing better at this and I expected.)

(Oh Stardust please, I'm sick to my stomach right now.)

"... Mirabelle was being framed for trying to kidnap Bonnie. Stars knows why."

"!?!?!?"

"I- I wouldn't do that!!! Why would they-"

"THAT'S CRABBING STUPID!!!"

"Language!"

"There must have been some kind of mistake!"

(You nod) "that's why we're all going there together today."

"Are you sure that's smart?" (Nille looked doubtful.) "If it goes bad then we'll all be in one place to get caught. Or.."

"Then I'll just loop back again, simple!"

(That didn't seem to relax Nille as much as you thought.)

(. . . She'll be fine.)

"As long as you know you can loop back." (Odile commented.) "That might also be why you've been so sick these past two days."

"Oh! That's right!! The Head Housemaiden did say using a lot of crafts can make you sick." (Mirabelle was thinking.) "And if time craft is supposed to be impossible it could be really draining you!"

"Not like I should be able to use it still anyways." (You say, slightly dejected. You were supposed to be DONE with the Universes silly little game.)

"But you can like, control now, right?" (Bonnie chimed in, curious.) "I mean not like forever school, now its like, like being able to take a big test again, but you don't need to keep doing it!"

(You all chuckle at that.) "Yeah, I guess it's like that."

(Even though you shouldn't have any more tests left.)

#OHG THIS TOOK TOO LONG IM SORRY #adhd meds ran out #anyway #isat au #isat #isat art #isat fanart #in stars and time #siffrin system au #art #sifstem #isat siffrin #au #isat loop #isat mirabelle #isat isabeau #isat nille #isat bonnie #isat odile

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safe-from-sharp-teeth · 5 months

Note

Got anything for other elementals such as shadow, light, lightning, wood/nature, metal or perhaps a fusion of all of them? :O

YOU ARE ENLIGHTENED. Let's see what I can come up with!

~ Part 1 here ~

Elemental Tums Pt. 2

Shadow Elemental: The shadow elemental provides the most familiar of comforts - the same feeling you get when you turn off the lights to sleep. You can hardly recognize where you are when inside one, as you are effectively blind while in the creature's darkest depths. You can feel an unidentifiable liquid around your lower half. It's heavy. You didn't think a liquid could be heavy. Here, you feel truly removed from this world, existing in some sort of pocket out of time and space. There's room to breathe and think and just be without anyone watching here. And so time and time again, you blanket yourself in the shadows and dreamlessly sleep.

Light Elemental: Light. Here, wherever you are, it pours into you from every surface. You can't open your eyes; it's too blinding. You try to shield your face with your arm. You feel like you're in an endless expanse. In fact, besides the blinding light, you can't seem to feel much at all. Is this what being inside of a lightbulb feels like? You thought it'd be hotter, but only a gentle warmth caresses your skin. You curl into yourself. What can you feel? Brightness. Heat. White. It's not necessarily uncomfortable...but certainly introspective.

Lightning Elemental: The chaotic nature of lightning extends into this elemental's insides, yielding a bit of a "festive" flair. You sit in a dark pouch, similar to any other stomach. But when the sound of thunder strikes, your environment rumbles along. Touching the inside of the walls causes a glow to radiate outwards, similar to touching a plasma ball. Wherever your hand moves, the glow follows. Like the inside of the air elemental, you sit in a misty fog of foreboding storm clouds instead of a pool of stomach liquids. Well, they WOULD be foreboding if they weren't so cute and small. Every so often you'd get a light shock from them, making this elemental one of the hardest to fall asleep in.

Wood Elemental: Being inside a wood elemental feels similar to curling up in an old tree hollow. You lie on soft, curved wood, and you carefully run your hands over the textured walls. Closing your eyes, you listen to the whoosh of wind through the hollowed creature outside and the rustling of its leaves. The most uncomfortable aspect is that you're sitting in a pool of clear and sticky sap (that's going to be a pain to get out later), but sneaking a taste...it's quite sweet! Sometimes birds somehow sneak their way inside for a snack.

Metal Elemental: Entering this beast feels like falling down a crack in a ravine - down, down, into the creature's golden, glittering core. You find yourself in the sprawling cave of what must be its innards. A draft blows overhead, and you retreat into the soothing heat of the golden ores surrounding you. It's not rough or sharp, and you find it even a bit malleable if you prod enough. Warm drops of water drip, drip onto your hair from a stalactite far above. If you are lulled to sleep, you may find the tunnels have shifted when you wake.

Cosmic Elemental: I imagine combining every element makes something akin to matter itself, some sort of cosmic...horror...situation. To be consumed by such a creature is to be cradled by the universe. Perhaps we have all felt the brush of the cosmic elemental when it formed us from stardust, and we shall feel it again when we are returned to it. For the short, infinite time in a place where time doesn't exist, you hear the beating heart of the cosmos - and weep.

#zan writing #SORRY THIS TOOK A BIT TO GET OUT #i was sick all week #thanks for the ask!!#safe vore #soft vore #extreme cuddling #vore talk #vore prompts #this is longer than the first one somehow???#elemental vore #v0re #tw vore

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actual-changeling · 7 months

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she doesn't want to know.

maybe she already does, crowley often knows the things she has no interest in knowing, and yet whenever her brain begins to nudge her towards the answer, she slips away and buries herself back in the sand like a reptile escaping the scorching desert heat.

she doesn't want to know a lot of things, and the number only increases after the world does not end again (again), and she can breathe again. crowley can't, couldn't, not when aziraphale's presence is a black hole, a dripping hand made of hot tar and tears spreading it's fingers and tainting everything it touches.

where are you, she doesn't ask, not this time.

this time she knows, and it's worse.

aziraphale returns, all sharp sunshine and stinging ozone, and it's not right, not like this, but neither of them can change it. so she lives with the blisters on her fingertips and the burns on her tongue until heaven takes away the cutting smell of hyacinths and lightning and gives aziraphale back to her.

she doesn't want to know whether their time apart ripped her open from the inside, too, because she thinks she knows the answer, and crowley cannot decide if it's the right one this time.

breathing is easier again, now that aziraphale is all ocean breeze and hot cocoa, a permanent presence right under her ribs, glowing, beating. there are too many question crowley cannot ask, and too many answers aziraphale does not seem to offer, not to her, so she doesn't.

on a tuesday, crowley does not ask if she can move into the bookshop, she simply watches aziraphale move around, snaps her fingers and allows the plants to settle in new, dustier spaces. she is rewarded with a smile, all teeth and sunshine, and she misses panorama windows and damp air, but it's fine, it's alright, she does not want to know why.

if she doesn't know, she doesn't feel.

(she does know. she does feel, all of it, so terribly strong no touch, gentle as as wind disturbing the perfect petals of a rose, can lift the tingle of electricity from her skin)

on a monday, crowley does not ask if she missed her. she brings aziraphale a cup of cocoa, soaks up her thank you, dear and tells herself it is answer enough.

on a thursday, crowley does not ask if they can get rid of the summoning circle staining the floor, simply stares at the smudged lines her earlier stumble on the carpet has revealed and does not ask herself why it bothers her.

tuesday, again. more silent questions.

wednesday. again. questions spilling from her fingertips like stardust, but she knows what they can do, always has since the day they burned her wings to ash and she fell and fell and fell.

aziraphale asks, over and over, for things, about things, asks for the sake of asking, and crowley wants to shake her until her pale blonde curls unravel and show her the answers.

why, why can you ask like it does not mean anything?

why can you ask as if you don't fear the consequences of the answers you will get?

why did you ask me to come with you? (why did i say no?)

why did i ask you, over and over and over, why did i ask? why did i ask even though i knew it was going to hurt?

crowley wants to know, she burns with it, always has, and she wants to sink her claws into aziraphale's answers and pull until they spill out, wet and red and alive, and she can know without having to ask.

friday. any friday.

aziraphale tells her, she tells her often, these days. crowley burns, hot and desperate, and she is all sulfur and brimstone, sand rubbing your skin raw, glass shards sinking into your flesh, and she asks.

why?

her mouth opens, blue eyes wide, dying hyacinths, and crowley waits for the answers to spill from her lips like they so easily do for anyone else, for any other question.

i saw you, before i fell, after i fell, and would have taken the flame to my own wings if it had meant meeting you, she doesn't say.

you are all the warmth i'm lacking, all the goodness and kindness and softness you see in me is you, staring back, she doesn't say.

crowley asks, and she thinks she knows the answer this time, and she wants to know, so she asks.

friday. the same friday.

nothing spills.

crowley smiles, tastes the drop of truth on her tongue, and tells herself it's enough.

she doesn't ask again.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #i need some lesbians in my life and luckily they can be those lesbians #more post season 3 angst? more post season 3 angst!

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mxplesyrvp · 10 months

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SAY YOU WON'T LET GO — feat. cyno

synopsis. When you're so in love with him that it's all you could ever think about without considering that he loves you back a thousandfold.

includes. cyno being the sweetest companion to a lovebird such as yourself <3 || first person pov.

cw. none ! || wc. 600+ || note. writing after what feels like a hundred years all because cyno is living inside my brain and I need to share my thoughts. Very self-indulgent. Enjoy!

The wind whistled tales of lamentation across the desolate landscapes of Sumeru, dancing with the grains of sand in the air. The heat had established its reign, stealing every living being's breath, leaving them parched enough to see stars in their wake. Amid that deep dejection, appeared a wisp of woven dreams and glittering stardust— an oasis. It was almost as if the winds had sung the wishes of the living to the Gods; and they had granted it.

You had your back pressed to the bark of a young palm tree which formed a part of the vegetation that thrived due to the kindness of the oasis, watching the once general mahamatra having the time of his life while he kept himself afloat on the surface of the crystal clear water.

"Aren't you going to take a dip, cub?" Cyno raised his eyebrows at you, swimming to the edge of the pool.

"Hmm?" You snapped out of your reverie, processing what he asked, "Um, I don't feel like it. Why don't you go on ahead and enjoy?"

He placed both his arms on the sandy surface of the raised edge which kept in the water of the oasis and rested his chin over them. With his cape gone, his mane of silver hair celebrated its freedom framing his face, dripping crystals of water due to its wetness. He tilted his head a little and gave you a small smile, his eyes catching a sort of glimmer that made your breath hitch. Gaze as sharp as thorns yet complete with the gentleness of rose petals, blooming in that exquisite colour of blood; it hit you how weak he made you. You never wished him to realize how much you wanted to make him the air you breathed, the tears you blinked and the home you lived in. You'd never let him know how much you were prepared to lose for him. Not even when you stroked his hair while he slept or in your dreams, you'd never tell him.

A stray tear trickled down the slope of your cheek as you folded in on yourself, realizing how far you'd fallen into this chasm of love. You quickly swiped your thumb over your face, wishing Cyno hadn't seen the drop of tear glistening on your cheek.

"Why do you appear so nervous all of a sudden?" he posed, "Don't tell me you're afraid of the water."

Glad that he hadn't got a whiff of what actually had you so shaken up, you snapped your fingers to cover your embarrassment with a little bit of coolness as you said, "Bingo. I honestly can't swim."

You watched him throw his head back as he chuckled, shoulders dancing to the rhythm of reverberations of his carefree laughter. You didn't mind him laughing at your silly revelation, you loved it when his lips parted like that in mirth, how the corners of his eyes crinkled with his eyes squeezed such as if there was not a care in the world. You loved it when he let his guard down around you like that, as if he wanted you to know in secret how much he trusted you. It made you want to crumble to dust and be part of the sand below you. It was too much, you felt like your heart would burst with this sweetness.

"That's it?" he sighed from all that laughter, "You really think you'd drown when I'm here?"

"I believed it best to not make a fool of myself," I said casually, "But since you insist..."

You rose from your sitting position with closed eyes and threw yourself into the water. The cold hit you hard, jamming your lungs, but you wanted Cyno to know that you trusted him like he did you. Soon enough, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and you were pulled out to the surface.

Gasping for breath, you held onto Cyno with everything you had. When you finally blinked the water out of your eyes, you found his ruby eyes fixated on you, searching for any kind of fear he could help disperse. He held onto you like any man would his heart, tender as a feather yet strong as iron.

He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to your forehead, whispering against your skin," I'd never let go of you, cub."

Words would never be able to describe the flutter of butterflies breaking free from your heart's cage as you let yourself fall into him further with a nervous kiss you could no longer contain.

With your lips on his and his on yours, both of you had forged the unspoken seal of love.

#𖤐 : kyo writes !#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #cyno x reader #cyno imagines #cyno x y/n #genshin cyno x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin cyno #cyno genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin imagines #cyno x you

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theflowerofhumanity · 1 year

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Stardust Melody

In the weeks after he reunited with Nyota, Jim Kirk did everything in his power to make up for their breakup. He brought her his signature hand-picked flowers until her apartment, office, and classroom practically overflowed with them. She got to pick the movies they watched, the restaurants where they ate dinner, and the location for their Saturday outings. Best of all, he was reaching an agreement with Starfleet Command that would keep him in a captain’s chair at least part-time—primarily on brief, safe diplomatic missions. These voyages could last up to a month, but almost never longer than that, and he would be on Earth for months at a stretch, splitting his time between Operations, Command, and Spock’s training courses at the Academy.

It wasn’t the adventurous bachelor life he had so often envisioned when he used to think about his future. It wouldn’t be anything like his groundbreaking days on the Enterprise. But it was a life that included his best friends and the woman he loved without cutting out space travel entirely, so it seemed well worth the compromise.

The two of them were enjoying a lazy beach day at “their” private spot, the little cove where they’d shared their first kiss. Jim delighted in driving them there in his antique car, which would soon be put away for safekeeping with the threat of chilly autumn rains looming. It might have been one of their last warm, pleasant Saturday afternoons for the rest of the year. It could have been a forlorn thought if Jim and Nyota didn’t find creative ways to entertain themselves at any time of year. She’d even started taking the occasional hike with him (to make sure he didn’t overdo it, she said).

Jim had been dozing in the sun, but sat up as she emerged from taking a dip. His scar was still an ugly, visceral reminder of how close he’d come to death, and the thin jagged line that separated his stomach from regenerated flesh never tanned. Still, he tried not to be too self-conscious, focusing instead on how grateful he felt simply to be alive and on the way his gorgeous girlfriend looked at him, scars and all.

“Has anyone told you how stunning you are recently?” he asked, grinning, as she came over dripping with seawater. He of course told her that at least twice a day.

@multirptrash

#not a great title but it was the only thing holding me up and I got sick of trying to think of something better lol #*sm

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fallenclan · 1 month

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No Going Back

Ravenshade closed his eyes.

All at once, the moss covering floor of the glow cave disappeared from under his paws, as he was whisked up into a star filled sky. Glowing lithe shapes danced around him as the spirits of Fallenclan swarmed around him, with an untold power.

Ravenshade watched, briefly letting a kit like wonder fill his heart, as the twinkling lights danced before him. And then his eyes settled on one cat in particular.

She bounded past him, her long dark fur dripping with starlight. Ravenstar caught a swift scent of pine, and followed in a dream like daze, a familiar pang hungry ambition guiding his paws.

As if he was replaying memories in his mind, Ravenshade saw his own paws raise as the cat turned around, her eyes wide in horror on her split colour face. And as he dealt that first blow, his leader ceremony commenced.

The molly dissipated into stardust and feathers and Ravenshade fell forward, disoriented. A wind rushed from behind him, with a sudden frenzy, and he heard the voice of his father mutter into his ear.

“With this life, prepare yourself to persevere. The path you are on, is one of great difficulty”

At that moment, Ravenshade felt the jaws of countless beasts tear through him. Panting, the tom tried to turn around, to face Gyoza, but in his place he saw the somber face of Troutspeckle.

She must be so proud of her kit, Ravenshade thought, seeing only his jubilant reflection in her grief stricken eyes. As she touched her nose to his head, her form dissolved into a breeze that lingered on his pelt.

“With this life, I hope you will one find empathy, for the suffering of others”

Ravenshade breathed in, bracing himself for the pain, and yet all he felt was a twinge of irritation to his shoulder. He gazed upwards, with a new sense of boldness, challenging the sky for more.

The swirling cats of Starclan surrounded him, and Ravenshade saw the almost gleeful face of Sorrelstem from within the storm. Ravenshade shivered, as a sudden freezing sensation pierced straight through his fur. She chuckled, and yet her words were laced with ice.

“With this life, don’t forget the ones who call you a friend. You wouldn’t want to end up lost and cold now wouldn’t you, oh great leader of Fallenclan!”

A great wind swept around him, and Ravenstar blinked as flying flakes of snow obscured his vision. A sharp pain embedded itself in his chest, as he heard the words of a weary elder, Moonstep, echo in his head.

“Your misplaced pride with bring downfall to this clan. With this life, I bear a warning. Learn some humility, or you’ll end up losing the very thing you did all of this for”

The pain intensified, and Ravenshade found himself falling through the open air. That starlit sky tore away from him as he descended, those grand constellations reducing themselves to distant specks. This time, a silky voice called to him.

“With this life, you must accept the consequences of your actions”

Sweetclover stood above him, looking down at him from her perch in those many, far away stars. Her expression was unreadable.

“Are you prepared? For the life you will now lead?”

Ravenshade didn’t have time to think about her words as he hit the ground, feeling every bone in his body shatter, sending a million sparks of pain through him. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself up.

He looked around. He was no longer in Starclan.

A wave of deja vu washed over him as he made his way through that misty pine forest once again. The trees loomed around Ravenshade, casting shadows so dark, it was difficult to put one paw in front of the other.

Suddenly his ears pricked as a he heard another voice cut through the eerie silence.

“What? Scared?”

A silver she-cat padded out from behind the tree trunks.

“You should be,” snarled Blizzardfang, locking Ravenshade in a fierce stare, the stars on her pelt glittering from within the gloom.

“With this life, may you find the courage to face what is yet to come”

A nauseous feeling bubbled in Ravenshade’s chest as this next life seeped into him. He looked up at the stars. Were they… toying with him?

Ravenshade refused to be made a fool, marching through the trees, pushing passed the sickening aches in his joints, anything to get out of this wretched dream. The trees gave way to the edge of a cliff and Ravenshade’s bitter eyes fell upon that oh so familiar tortoiseshell, waiting for him on the ledge.

How he hated her. A stuck up good for nothing deputy who let his family die.

Ravenshade felt his breath rasp against his chest as he let his anger fill his every thought.

She should have been the one to die when the dogs attacked. She deserved to be mercilessly ripped to shreds, all weak and snivelling cowards do. Instead, Ravenshade had to watch as his own father’s flesh was torn into ribbons, when all she did was stand by, uselessly. Ravenshade would make her pay, he would make her feel every tooth and claw and-

He stopped.

Jumping in front of him, halting him in his tracks, was a cat he hadn’t seen since the day of the attack. He was greeted by a haunted look that painted the face of Russetflare, the same look she had given Ravenshade the last time he saw her.

That brief moment before she was swept up in the jaws of of a beast, whilst he was frozen to the ground. Whilst he stood by, uselessly.

“With this life, know, it was the same”

She spoke, but all he could hear was barking. A life flooded into him, but all he could feel was a cold numbness.

It wasn’t the same.

He was not the same!

And then, Russetflare was gone.

Ravenshade walked up to where Poppyfeather waited for him. The forest was silent, once again.

She looked at him, her face set in a calm stare, but Ravenshade still caught that glint of disgust within those amber eyes. He flashed her a grin.

“Did it hurt?” He asked, not bothering to hide his smug triumph.

“Would you like to find out?”

Suddenly Ravenshade felt claws cutting through his skin, as his eighth life tore through him. Blood blinded his sight, as he felt fierce emotions that didn’t belong to him race through his veins.

He felt a trust that wasn’t his crumble, and a rage that wasn’t his swell. And in the end, the feeling that made him sick to his stomach was one of honour. A strict urge that lay as heavy as lead in his blood, barring him from fighting with his full strength against a clanmate. A feeling that definitely wasn’t his.

Ravenshade collapsed onto dampening grass.

“You can’t kill me!” He wheezed, “You’re dead!”

Poppyfeather growled, “No, I won’t kill you. Because I know that living the way you do, will be much more painful”.

“With this life, may you be bound to your duties as a leader, so much so that your failure to keep those around safe, will cut you for your every waking moment. Never forget the price you must pay for your actions, and that your paws are always steeped in blood”

He didn’t know how long he lay there, sitting in a dark puddle, surrounded by that dark forest, body aching from this abuse from the stars. Ravenshade gazed into the sky reflected in his own bloody pool, and he saw a final cat leap down from above, here to curse him with his final life.

For the final time, Ravenshade pulled himself up, a twisted elation filling his heart. Yes, the cats of Starclan tried fight against him, hurt him, even scare him from this moment. But he knew there was nothing they could do, there was no one who could keep him from his destiny! The proof was standing there right in front of him, with a conflicted expression on her face.

Cherrystar stepped forward, and her words echoed into the night.

“Ravenshade. You have never backed down from any challenge or obstacle on your path. You’ve cut down everything and and everyone in your way and Starclan knows you could continue until every tree in this place has fallen. But as you journey down this path of carnage…”

The tabby voice trailed as the rising sun began to light up the woods, tinting Ravenshade’s fur in a bloody red hue. Cherrystar seemed to steel herself, as if bracing herself for what she was about to say.

“With this life, may you remember your loyalty. Loyalty to the clan”

She said this quietly and Ravenshade felt an unexpected calmness rush through his fur. His final life was almost… pleasant.

Cherrystar’s eyes gleamed down at him, as if she had finally come to terms with what was to be done. Above her, the morning bled into the sky, overtaking the stars, and ravens circled above, as if to celebrate the new dawn. Cherrystar continued.

“You will now be known as Ravenstar. Your old life is now behind you. When this forest rots, may you remember the roots it grew from. Because now, there’s no going back”

Cherrystar bounded off of the cliff’s edge, and into the fading starlight. The new Fallenclan leader made his way to where she had sat, overlooking the territory, and as he walked on, he felt a surge of strength in his bones as the ceremony was complete.

He no longer felt any pain, and yet blood still dripped down his face. He yowled his new name into the sky as he feels himself slipping from the dream. He did not stay for a reply. He would not have received one either.

Starclan could keep its silence for all he cared. He had withstood the might of the stars and conquered them. The new leader grinned.

Ravenstar opened his eyes.

(Note: this is the first fanfiction I’ve made in a while so sorry for typos :) anyways enjoy the mental image of Sweetclover dropping Ravenstar off a cliff lol)

(beetle note: HOLY SHIT????? oh my GOD this fic is so fucking incredible im losing it. Ravenshade only being able to see his reflection in his mother’s eyes. “when the forest rots, may you remember the roots it grew from”. oh my god)

#submission #fallenfic #spicyicymeloncat #blood tw

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