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onelittlespiral · 12 days

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FML: Urged

I think this was the photo that got me in. Of course I get the appeal now. But at the time I thought I was just messaging some other random torso on the apps. I was supposed to just be in and out, no strings attached. After all, he wasn’t my usual type. Looked like a roided out gym rat: bit of a gut; dark, wiry hair; and thick muscles. But muscles weren’t the thickest thing about him, and who was I to pass up a good time?

So I went over to his place. I wasn’t surprised when it was a loft above a small gym. Seemed like the ideal spot for the kind of guy. What I was not expecting was the apartment itself to be so…nice? Normal? I was prepared to get fucked on a twin-sized mattress on the floor, no frame, with sweaty clothes rotting around me. But the apartment had some character. He even offered me something to drink before we got started, in an actual glass. Maybe I needed to raise my standards. We chatted, flirted a bit as I finished my water and let things get hot from there. We kissed in the kitchen, made out in the living room, and worked our way back to his bedroom as sweatshirts, belts, shirts, pants, and straps trailed behind us.

As I positioned a pillow under myself, he took off his wife beater, the last barrier between us. The shirtless torso that seduced me was on full display as I rubbed his chest. As he leaned in to kiss me, I felt engulfed by this bear of a man, skin electric where I felt his hair ticking my bare chest. My senses felt heightened as I tasted cheap beer on his breath and smelled a deep musk of sweat, cum, and Old Spice, more in line with what I had expected from him. He ran his calloused hands over my chest and abs before finally taking up position over my trembling body. I wanted him in a way I hadn’t felt since I was a teen. Normally I would want to talk a bit more, at least give a safe word. But as he surrounded me and I felt his presence, my brain flipped a switch as my body instinctively relaxed for him. There were no thoughts to be had as my mind was consumed by his rich scent, the pleasure of his cock slowly stretching out my ass, and his intense gaze set on my fluttering eyes. At last I felt his bush pressed against my clenching ass. He lingered for just a moment, every throb of his member sending shivers through my body. He leaned in and whispered, “You feeling good, baby?”

I could only moan a bit in response. Feeling his weight bear down on me and his cock in my ass left no room for words. He shoved his pit in my face and I instinctively took a deep huff. Any resistance and tension left in my body released. I felt filled by him, just a vessel for his use. I was about to stick out my tongue when he pulled back and repositioned himself. He held my shoulders as he began moving his hips.

As he slowly began to fuck me, I felt him reach new depths within myself.

“There you go, much better. Let yourself just float”

I couldn’t resist him even if I wanted to. His cock methodically jackhammering my hole had my body riding wave after wave of pleasure. Then, I felt him tense up a bit as his cock swelled just a bit more telling me what was to come. He buried it deep as a pressure built within myself. A few more thrust from him and I shot my load over his furry chest. My mind could no longer handle it. I slipped off into a void of pure bliss, as this stranger collapsed on top of me, feeling his damp fur against my body and filling my senses once again with his musk.

I woke up the next day back in my own bedroom. No one else around. No signs of trouble. No clue how I got back. If the whole experience hadn’t been so vivid, I would have thought I dreamt the whole thing. But as I rolled myself out of bed and into the bathroom, one change became very clear.

Seemingly overnight I had lost my smooth skin and dirty blonde curls. In its place was hair. Thick, dark, course hair. It covered my chest, my arms, my back, even my crotch. I was shocked but, also, something else began to tickle at my brain. I took off my tank to get a better look at the forest. I flexed my muscles and admired the way it coated my chest and seemed to exaggerate its size. I hit a double bicep pose and smelled a familiar scent. The scent of sweat and heat and masculinity. My mind flooded with images of that night as my cock stood at attention. I shoved my face into my own pit as I bagan jacking off in front of the mirror, admiring my new body. It felt strange but satisfying, watching this stranger in the mirror mimic my every move as I lusted for him. I didn’t realize how far I had gone until I saw the stream hitting the mirror. It was hot, but something still didn’t feel right. As I cleaned up the restroom, I picked up my razor and considered cleaning myself up a bit. But as I lifted it to my face, I noticed my newly hairy pits. Exposing them, the scent of last night invaded my mind again and I couldn’t follow through. I finished getting dressed and I left for the day. With a busy schedule, maybe I could get some answers tomorrow. I think that was the last chance I had to do something, divert from the path laid out for me. But looking back, I don’t know if I would have changed a thing.

No day was as sharp a change as the first, but each morning as I looked myself in the mirror, something was a bit different. Maybe it was the sharpness of my jaw. Or were my pecs always this swoll? One week I swore my feet were growing larger. There is no way that they always slapped the ground like that. But my shoes always fit perfectly. Heck I may even need a new pair soon. My joggers were beat up as hell and reeked when I took them off after my Saturday runs. But soon it was the days that I couldn’t find anything that looked different that began to worry me most. Had I always thought so much about the bodies of the men around me? Did people always talk so fast? But as life slipped back into routine. Soon I began to question myself. Why had I worried so much about any changes? Things never actually seemed out of place, and I worked out hard to get these gains. I had been going to the gym for years and had spent tears perfecting my splits. After about two months. I stopped worrying at all. Until finally, one day I woke up and looked myself in the mirror, I saw the same man who greeted me for years.

I was a sweaty gym rat. Always had been. Always would be. I took a deep huff of my own funk, and rubbed my muscles. But everything fell into place, something felt missing. I shouldn’t have to keep this godly body and musk to myself. For the first time in a while, I hopped onto the apps and started scanning through. God, all these old matches were terrible. Why did I used to have such a thing for those muscled-up college boys? They couldn’t grow a beard if their lives depended on it. Besides, I think I wanted someone a little more…submissive. Scrolling through, my eyes caught on this young 20-something twink. Something about him reminded me of someone…someone I used to know. His lithe body, tight curls, and skimpy clothes told me he was a bottom before I clicked on his profile. A few messages back and forth, and he was on his way.

He walked in the door and it was all I could do to contain myself. Something deep within me wanted my seed deep in his ass. I needed him to worship me. I wanted him to become just like me. I had no patience as my body acted on instinct. I stripped my shirt and calmly approached, placing my hand against the wall behind him. As my masculinity and musk washed over the twink, I watched as his eyes fluttered a bit and knew his mind was submitting.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I asked plainly.

“Ye-yes, sir.”

I grinned as I understood fully now just what had happened to me, and the power I held. But watching this twink practically trembling in front of me, maybe I was even better than my captor had been.

I gave him a quick kiss as I lead him to my bedroom. I couldn’t wait to make another man in my image.

#male transformation #transformation #reality change #musk #bro #hypnosis #fml #muscle tf

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arminsumi · 7 months

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Sleepyhead — 五夏

NOTE: idk if writing this made me sadder or was therapeutic either way let's cry together :')

SUMMARY — During your youth, you, Geto and Gojo made a magic charm that would reconnect the three of you in a different reality one day by a golden silk thread.

WARNINGS — not proofread, "just a dream" trope but really u just shifted realities and forgot your other life, angst, implied death / crossing over, based on the latest chapter bc i'm in pain and when i'm in pain i write 👍 sooo just in case: jjk manga spoilers (major char death, chapter 236)

Gojo caressed your cheek and muttered " You're such a pretty crier, but don't cry for me. Sh, I'm right here, baby, I'm right here. ", keeping his other hand intertwined with yours.

. . .

Your two eyes blinking out of a dream, coming back to reality. Or was it the other way around? Maybe you were awaking into a lucid dream.

At first it's a white space. A void. There's nothing but neutrality and emptiness. Then a golden silk thread is sewn across your chest. It leads down a corridor of white, one that stretches so far it almost feels like you're taking an infinite walk.

There's a door at the end, you open it. And all there is behind it is your old classroom, just as it was. There's Gojo Satoru, smiling that wide toothy smile like nothing in the world is wrong. And there's Geto Suguru, shaking his head and sighing a laugh over his best friend's ridiculousness. And there's Shoko Ieiri, peering over her folded arms as she rests her chin on the desk sleepily.

Walking obliviously into this memory while the real world continues on outside, you completely detach from reality and cross over. Why is it this memory ? It was such an ordinary day.

But it wasn't an ordinary day, you're mistaken; that day you wove a golden silk thread and imbued it with something, magic is a good word but no — it was an otherworldly "magic", something that's not sorcery.

You drift through this classroom memory, Gojo says hello and Geto smiles. Before you realize, you're floating past the exit door and enter another room — another memory.

It's then that you realize you're just drifting along the silk thread, hopping across each memory that you wove into it; their purpose to carry you over into another reality entirely.

More memories. More. And then some more. You're travelling through them, looking at them as if through a dream lens, half-detached, in a state of limbo. Not between life and death, but between realities where you're alive.

Maybe it was cruel.

The three of you leaving the world behind, shifting into different realities at your death, just so you could be happy and peaceful.

Final memories roll by, and you shift over; and in an instant, that whole journey seeps out of your mind.

You wake up just like any other day. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Gojo is crushing you with his weight, forcing you to blink awake and mumble groggily.

That was a long dream.

" Wakey wakey, sleepyhead — full body attack ! Okay, seriously, wake up. I want breakfast and I can't eat it unless you're with me. You know that. Why are you crying ? Did you have a nightmare ? Oh really ? What was it about ? "

Gojo follows you like a puppy throughout your morning routine. Though really, it feels like a mourning routine this time. Your chest feels so heavy, and you keep hugging him as if you haven't seen him in years.

" Hey, Suguru listen to Y/n's fucked up dream. It's insane, like a manga plot or some shit. Wish I had dreams of that. You should write it. "

" Oh ? Do tell. I'm curious. Aw, why the hug ? Y/n ? You okay ? Come on, let's make some pancakes. "

You watch the two of them in this ordinary habitat; Gojo lazing at the kitchen doorframe, talking about the awful ending to his favorite story.

" Y/n, you're zoning out. "

" Are you crying ?! "

" Sorry. I just missed you guys. I don't know why. "

" But we saw each other yesterday. We spent the whole night together. It was my birthday. "

" Yeah, and that's what's freaky; I feel like I just travelled for years. It feels surreal to look at the two of you. "

" Don't cry, come here. Satoru, take care of the pancake it's gonna burn. Y/n, wanna talk about it ? "

" No, I just want to hug you two. "

" GROUP HUG. "

" Satoru you're suffocating her. "

" Good group hugs are suffocating ! "

You stay with them in a long group hug. Everything feels alright.

" . . . the pancake is burning."

Suguru tends to it.

Satoru looks at you. " Cryin' ? Still ? Come here. You're so sensitive. "

He engulfs you in a hug again. Warm, soft, nice-smelling; this is definitely your ordinary reality. What a bizarre dream, though. Truly a bizarre dream.

" So how'd I die in your dream ? " he asks curiously.

" I don't want to talk about it. I just want to cry. " you choke, crying more into his chest. Suguru scolds him from the stove, while he scrapes burnt pancake batter off the pan.

Satoru looks down at you, cupping your one cheek, and says something that you swear you've heard before.

" Such a pretty crier. But don't cry for me. Sh, I'm right here, baby, I'm right here. "

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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fqntasies · 8 days

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Just a taste, baby - Feyd Rautha x Reader

summary: You and Feyd-Rautha have been connected through dreams since childhood; a complex inner-working of the Bene Gesserit mothers to join your bloodlines. It binds the two of you in a pull you can't escape (nor do you want to). Feyd is absolutely feral for you.

words: 1,258

disclaimer: characters may be out of character, specifically feyd, considering his desperate softness here. just a forewarning.

You were trapped, breaths coming out of shallow pants as you felt the scratch of the cement structure beneath your palms. He had you against the wall in a hidden alcove; along one of the lengthy corridors of the palace in Giedi Prime. Your mouths were just breaths apart. In fact the Harkonnen before you seemed intent on matching your breaths, mingling them. Tasting your tiny pants as his own. It made your eyes heavy, made you want to tilt your head back and close your eyes, give him access to the expanse of your neck.

"sweetness." He rasped, unable to control himself. The Na-Baron wrapped an arm about your waist, a vice arching you against him as he lowered a wanting mouth to your neck, licking and sucking where the two met. You mewled at the wet heat, felt him growl desperately at the taste.

The two of you hadn't even kissed yet - but the wait; the dreams - you both knew each other to the soul.

---- flashback ----------

The sands of Arakis and Geidi Prime alike carried mysteries of prophesies of the lisan-al-gaib. But midst such tales, the Bene-Geserit mothers also had worked to connect bloodlines through dreams. The Na-Baron and the princess of Arrakis had been bound by such since birth. A well-planned move to align feuds and place power into wanting hands in preparation of war. A web of politcal conspiracy only they controlled. Their plans could not be foiled.

But Feyd couldn't care less about such witchcraft; and neither, if one were honest, could you. The two of you had known of this binding since a young age. And when you had met as children too - the connection had been strong.

"Their line is bright" The reverend mother's voice had burned into your mind, even at 10 years old.

You remembered her cloaked form; a black shadow against the haze of the horizon, a tower above you as she turned from your parents. Her voice had been void of emotion, except for a smugness you didn't understand. But when you turned to glance at the older boy before you (such a uniquely beautiful boy; broad shoulders and smooth skin, black attire across a lithe form), his eyes shone with an intensity that surprised her. Dark, watching, intrigued. He intimidated you. He made you curious.

At 15 years of age, the Na-Baron hadn't spoken in their meeting; but he had felt more than he had imagined. The girl...she had made him feel things. It confused and awakened him to something he had never known. His uncle had never spoken of such a pull. A need.

When the ship had arrived to his homeworld, and the strange foreigners parted like a sea, Feyd-Rautha found himself straightening to his full height; head lowered as he studied them beneath an angled gaze. Garbs of strange colors - hair he had never seen before in elegant styles. He would be Harkonnen predator. He would be a warrior. Strike fear in these alien people, show the Baron he was not swayed so easily by something new.

But then-

Swathed in layers of white, a girl stepped forward; dainty and gracious above all else; practically floating across the landing platform. Yet her eyes betrayed her; darting to capture the landscape, thrown off perhaps by the infrared of Giedi Prime's black sun above them.

She was drinking in the strange newness before her, and then they found him. Feyd felt his chest tighten. Fists clenched. Heat brimmed under the chestplate of his armor.

She looked like some newborn animal, caught in his gaze. But they both felt it. The familiarity. The warm hum between them. It made you want to slip from the safety of your parents and stand beside him, as though his shadow was more protection than the whole parade your own family brought with them. You wondered if he'd felt the same.

Three nights later, you had dreamed of him. A bit older, hand in his as he raised it to his lips. His eyes had never left yours. As a young girl it made you blush. Now...

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

You made a breathy sound as his tongue lathed the mark he had made, moving with a lazy carelessness across your pulse, hungry above all else, uncaring for decorum. He wanted to devour you entirely. He wanted you to see you helpless and delirious against him, just as you were now. As you were in all his dreams.

He knew you'd had them all too. His eyes on you at their wedding. His tongue against yours, moans and tastes and hunger. You watching from the arena as he slaughtered man after man, coated and heaving. He felt like a beast.

"Feyd-" His name barely formed, like a prayer from your lips.

His eyes nearly lolled in his head at the way you sounded, and he dragged his wanting mouth up to meet yours. Wet and wanting. Feyd's free hand shifted to engulf your slender neck, moving your head against his mouth to deepen the kiss, taste all of you. Consume.

The Na-Baron was all muscle and prowess, a looming figure that practically dwarfed you. The spanse of his shoulders alone were sinful, and deep down you loved how it felt to be completely in his grasp. Guiding you in your movements.

Feyd's tongue sought yours as much as he could, controlling and demanding - but you were a needy little thing too, weren't you? In the haze of passion you were pressing into him - leaning just as much towards his heat as he was pushing you both together. You sucked his plush bottom lip into your mouth - unable to help yourself. After all, why was he made so beautiful, if not to kiss? He was quick to follow, biting your own with a growl that made your knees practically give, and following with his greedy tongue.

"You're going to be my wife." the words are a promise, his eyes glittering under the low light; shadows flashign with the coming storm. You part your mouth as though to taste him again, a helpless 'please' slipping past as you arch in his grasp.

Feyd practically took you then and there. Enter the nearest room... make all his dreams a reality. His patience was nearly worn thin. Years of waiting, of hunger. And now it was here. You were in his reach, that tempting little waist; those hips. It made him absolutely insane.

He wets his lips, gaze feverish.

"tomorrow. tomorrow sweetness, hmm? Can wait that long?" He intends to tease you, but he knows he speaks to himself, his jaw locking as he adjusts his arms to press you against him.

You're so fucking soft. It makes him groan. Of all the things he's known in his life, softness was not one of them, save for the flashes of you in his dreams. He craved you like a creature starved. Thoughts of you made him fight better. Made him kill easier.

There's a rumble suddenly of a drone; Harkonnen orders breaking the silence in distorted code. The words don't make sense to your ears. Not yet anyway. You hope to make progress in the language, but it was a challenge; more than others. The variety of tones were a feat for any foreigner to take on; but this was to be your home. A lady of harkonnen would learn her husband's native tongue.

You know he has to leave.

#feyd x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha x reader #dune 2 #dune part 2 #dune fanfiction #dune fanfic #austin butler #feyd #reader insert #reader #fanfiction #fanfic #the bald man has me in a chokehold #i love when powerful men are desperate for their soft ladies

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evilminji · 8 months

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Ya'll know our BELOVED? Little Baby Man?

The noodliest ghosty boy?

What if he WAS Baby? It wouldn't be the first time Danny's enemies plotting gave him offspring. Only this time it's not a clone! It's a proper GHOST baby. Like Lunch Box.

Who's the other parent I hear you ask?

Pretty human-centric view point there buddy, to assume Ghosts NEED two participants to make an offspring. OR are limited to two! Just cause Lunch Lady And Boxie are a couple doesn't mean that's the standard!

We lack data here! ASSUME NOTHING. *sciences harder in your direction*

*awkward cough*

*shuffles notes*

ANYWAY! The child! All it would really take is one(1) VERY poorly timed ambush attack. Imagine if you will, a cell. How does it multiply? While not even close, the simplistic images ARE pretty good as an explanation!

But isn't that just an ecto-clone? You say?

Close!

But THOSE? Are hollow bags of GOO!

No CORE! *slaps the chalkboard behind me*

However! If you wanted, say, a precious bundle off joy? Well, nothing can come from perfect void! You must contribute the building blocks of LIFE! And what are those, my students, in ghost biology??!

Two vital pieces! The Ectoplasm aaaaaaand? That's RIGHT!

The CORE!

A critical and ever vital part of ghost biological function.

Which, like every OTHER part of the body, is malleable. One could, say, make it smaller. Create part of a proto core. OR, should one be ALONE in this process, a FULL protocol.

Upon which, ectoplasm latches, builds, develops and grows. Becomes its own soul.

Now! Do Not mistake me! There is a WILDLY vast difference between the formation of a core and a shattered core. Between willing life and untimely second death. It is not, and never WILL be, easy to create the soul of a child. Tampering with your core is PAINFUL, dangerous, and leaves you WILDLY vulnerable.

There is a REASON Neverborn are so precious.

Buuuuut..... *pulls out a book labeled "Curses Though The Ages"* we must ALSO consider the famed Fenton Luck(tm).

Consider! Where would be the "safest" place to practice making clones of yourself? A place that's wide open. No one wearing white likely to take pot shots at you while your attention is divided in multiple places at once. No parents blowing up the basement at a delicate moment and leaving you trying to hide that extra arm for a week...

Maybe you forget... oh yeah... OTHER GHOSTS.

So there Danny floats. In the Zone. DISTRACTED. His core HUGE from all that recently Royal business as it tries to digest it. Feeling bloated. Trying to work off some energy, as it were. Then who should come along? Why, the universes BEST HUNTER of course! To say *gun powering up noise* :) HI :)

Like buddies DO.

Danny doesn't see him.

Danny is mid-split.

At his limit, honestly. Already made as many copies as he usually can. Is trying for ooooone moooooore..... when...

PAIN. Something cracks.

He loses concentration. Tries to curl in on himself.

Both 1.5 of him tries. He loses hold of the "clone's" Ecto. Somethings free floating leaving his chest along with it. Behind him, Skulker is freaking out. That was MEANT to be on opening volley. A gentle little "hey, come fight me". That crack sounded SERIOUS.

Danny can't breathe. It's like the portal all over again. He curls tighter and tighter. Feels the crown, which was not THERE until this moment, press down tight and gripping onto his head. Thrumming. And then... something feels like a muscle releasing.

His core is... smaller? He'd been watching its progress, it couldn't have digest so fast... how did it lose so much... mass...

Danny feels all the blood drain from his face.

He nearly died.

Again.

His... his soul... WHERE IS HIS SOUL?? That's a piece of him! A part of his SOU-!

He spins around... only to meet the eyes off a blearly blinking, noodlish, cartoon like gremlin with his color scheme. Who's floating along like they're in zero-g. Just... drifting in a slow circle.

They yawn at him with a mouth full of teeny tiny baby fangs. Then chirp.

That's his Son. He doesn't know how, he doesn't know WHY, but he somehow instinctively... just... KNOWS?

They blep.

Danny looks a Skulker. His eyes hold MURDER.

"You're paying child support."

"......yes sir."

@hdgnj @stealingyourbones

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

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shidouryusm · 7 months

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Im not coming home

Gojo Satoru x reader

Content- angsty angst, just a lot of pain, reference to recent manga,

A.N -> i wrote this in a bus all teary faced with a concerned old uncle looking at me. I need my blue eyed boyfriend so bad. This is me mourning I haven’t been able to do it properly all day. Im sorry pls dont kill me. Not proofread this is a heat of the moment writing literally 😭

“See you guys tomorrow”, you say softly before sprinting out of the building. As if your body clock instantly knows when to chime in and draw you back to your nest.

You briskly get out of the room, offering a small wave to Shoko who just entered. Her concerned eyes following your trail.

The sun was floating in the horizon, the ground painted asphalt from the dying colours of the twilight and the air filled with intangible thickness of cold. In the midst of it, you walked. You walk with a rising tornado of emotions bubbling inside you, contrast to the drying winter.

You walked through the bustle of Roppongi. The town was back from the shambles it was two months prior. Always finding a way to bounce back into its original upheaval.

Amongst the skyscrapers decorating Roppongi, you eyes wander to the little sweet shop- selling the ever famous kikufuku — sweet cream filled mochi with Zunda paste. Satoru’s ever favourite.

“baby, this isn’t just a sweet.” Satoru gasps indignantly upon hearing your allegations of getting a cavity from it — “It’s a delicacy. Zunda and sweet cream— a work of culinary that you need to appreciate by savouring it as much as you can”, you roll your eyes as you watch your boyfriend plops another mochi in one bite. “Well that doesn’t mean you can double it up as lunch , Toru. you need to eat some actual meal”

“In that case, I can eat yo— I’m sorry” gojo quickly moves away as you swivel the huge cushion towards him, sweet chuckles erupting from his chest as you look at him poutedly.

The little playback of the memory cracked a little smile on your face — the shop ever so reminiscent of your little late night trips with Satoru whenever you both feel insomniac.

You walk over to the shop, feet reflexively carrying you towards the whirlwind of memories you have with him.

The sun had already settled beneath the darkness when you arrived home. The huge compound of area void of any presence. You enter the room, turning the lights on as you settle on the table. The small bag of kikufuku carefully placed on it.

“I’m home” you say without any conscious thought behind.

How can you? When these words never failed to emerge a 6’3 white-haired nuisance, his large hands encircling your waist, his nose breathing in your scent as you get slightly levitated into the air from the insane height difference. The small whispers of “I love you”s and “I miss you”s exchanged in the small gap between your faces — as if it were eternities since you both met each other. Those cerulean eyes of his mirroring your pools with affection and love that ran miles after miles.

Followed by little kisses pressed to your cheeks, then to your eyes and lastly placed on your lips. Those soft rhythm of his lips like promises of eternity.

Your chest twists in pain like you hugged a teddy bear fashioned with sharp daggers, slicing through your soul.

A sharp throb of your heart against your ribs as if it’s begging to be freed and chase the one it’s destined to beat for always. Your body turns numb, the tears like rivulets against your cheek— while you let them flow freely after a day long facade. Your shaky hands wander aimlessly into the air, pleading to find the silhouette, the comfort, the warmth of his body.

A part of your soul seemed to die everyday since then and today another sliver of it withered into nothingness.

Your voice broken like the shards of mirror reverberates across the large room that no one but you occupy, “im home, ‘toru. Where are you?”

The bag of kikufuku lays on the table as it is but Satoru hasn’t arrived home.

A.N 2 -> Yall pls dont be mad this is my way to cope. Even though I wrote this Im clutching on to the littol hope that he will return. If not then understand gege snuffed the life out of me as well

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yuri-alexseygaybitch · 1 year

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Baby Yoda is the closest thing to a physical manifestation of nihilism we have. Baby Yoda is emptiness. Baby Yoda is the void you feel inside you. When you see a Raytheon float at Pride or are stalked by targeted ads after looking at one product on Amazon, the spirit of Baby Yoda brushes against your soul. He's the fleet of single-occupant cars whose fumes you choke on in your hour long commute to work. He's the dirt-filled stroad lit by the ugly neon of fast food signs where you have your "dinner." He's $5 gas prices. He's the smog and the filth and the rot. He's why you can't cum without using your hand anymore. At the heart of it all, the green devil is there, smirking and staring back at you with his empty black eyes.

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rivetgoth · 6 months

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Black Alternative Music Recs

Not being Black myself, I hesitate to make myself a spokesperson specifically for Black alt artists as I don’t want to be tokenizing or reductive and I’d rather, like, uplift the voices of Black alt people than just make my own lists, BUT, I keep seeing people in the comments of recent posts about Death Grips asking for recs for more Black alternative artists, and I do know a good amount, so as a really basic list I wanted to throw out a few artists I really like—

Light Asylum: Darkwave. Really incredible vocalist, and openly queer. “Dark Allies” is a huge goth club hit but all of her work is great. I’ve seen her live twice and her live concerts are incredible too. One of the bigger Black goth artists.

Ho99o9: Punk/Industrial Hip Hop. Another big one, they’re pretty well known at this point but if you DON’T know them you should. Huuuge variety in sound here, all of it is so fun and solid, absolutely amazing energy.

clipping.: Industrial/Experimental Hip Hop. Really fun and catchy, great lyrics, great mixing, great experimental electronic sound.

Void Palace: Industrial/EBM. Local LA-based act with an amazing industrial dance club sound and vibe. Seen them live and they bring such cool but crazy energy. Really really solid.

O. Children: Darkwave/Post Punk. Really classic gothic sound, amazing vocals, really underrated, theatrical, fun, and moody gothic rock.

Izzy Spears: Industrial/Experimental Hip Hop. Openly gay alternative hip hop artist with a heavy and super danceable beat. I saw him live and he sounded great and had awesome punky energy.

LUSTSICKPUPPY: Punk/Electro-Industrial. Has almost a hyperpop sound sometimes, super high BPM high energy danceable electronic music with a really crazy theatrical style to their performances (kicking myself for missing them last year!). ETA: LSP uses they/them pronouns, corrected now but apologies for missing that irt any older iterations of this post floating around.

Baby Storme: Darkwave/Ethereal Pop. I think she got a bit of popularity on TikTok recently? I don’t use TikTok so idk, but she’s great. Really well mixed, fun, super solid dreamy darkwave with a dancey pop sound intermixed.

Grizz: Darkwave Hip Hop. I JUST discovered this artist, he’s another LA local who just put out a new single that’s getting some attention and he’s really good. Super cool goth fusion sound with really great classic darkwave electronic backing. Check him out!

Cold Gawd: Shoegaze/Post-Hardcore. Iconically sells merch that says “ABOLISH WHITE SHOEGAZE.” Absolute powerhouse of sound; I saw them live and their music sounded torrential, like this intense, powerful storm.

Debby Friday: Dark Electronic/Experimental Hip Hop. Really really haunting and dreamy gothic sound. Collaborates with artists like Boy Harsher. Superbly mixed. Lots of variety in sound but very consistently strong.

Dre Robinson: Industrial/Experimental Electronic. Longtime cEvin Key/Skinny Puppy collaborator. He was on stage with Skuppy during the recent live tour, doing sound and playing the maggot maracas (iykyk). He’s also been involved in a ton of cEvin’s solo work and accompanies him on stage for his live solo shows.

Charles Levi: Industrial/Industrial Rock. Wax Trax!/90s industrial icon, did work for My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult and Pigface. He’s recently had a bunch of serious health problems and has a GoFundMe up of you’d like to donate. He contributed to so much classic industrial rock, it’s crazy.

There’s a billion more. These are just some artists I genuinely really like personally who are Black, and I think all of them deserve a ton of support and recognition as contributors to the alternative scene. There’s so many amazing Black-fronted alternative bands and projects, and I’m just scratching the surface with artists I know and enjoy, Also considered listing some larger names like Yves Tumor and Tricky, but I feel they’re slightly more well known in the mainstream with ~1mil+ listeners on Spotify and I wanted to highlight some slightly more underground voices (to varying degrees—obviously some artists here are more well known than others).

Check them out!! Support Black alternative music!

#goth #industrial #alternative music

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octoberscigarettes · 1 month

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soemtimes I wish someone who isnt a romantic partner would have cared for Ian enough. like ofc mickey cares immensely and I don't wanna discredit the good he does for Ian. But there are so many things in Ian's life where he needed care and love and reassurance from someone he is not romantically involved with.

being groomed from a young age, and nobody cared enough to see what's going on with kash, and when lip did, he did nothing. when Fiona and Jimmy Steve found out Ian was sleeping with Ned, nobody cared enough about Ian to help him. Instead it was all about Jimmy Steve and his man baby feelings about his dad being queer.

when Ian was crying about the aftermath of s3ep6 and s3ep9, Frank was heading a gay rights movement purely for his own gain, while Ian's siblings feasted on a gift basket sent to their house. Nobody wondered where Ian was, so he was sobbing in his bed, alone.

when Ian ran away to the army, his entire family just accepted it, the fucking Milkoviches were more worried about Ian than his own family.

when in s6 Ian doesnt know what to do with himself, nobody cares enough to show him that his life isnt over bc of his diagnosis. nobody cares enough to tell Ian that he still has options, that he can survive.

when Ian is heartbroken, nobody cares enough about it to tell him anything but "good riddance".

when Ian has a crisis of faith and loses himself in religion and mania, nobody cares about him enough to talk to him until its to late. nobody sees him enough to know if he is taking his meds.

In the Gallagher household Ian doesn't exist. Fiona and Lip are bonding and supporting each other (no matter how angry and misguided sometimes) in their role as the eldest. Debbie and Carl are looking out for each other, and Fiona and Lip always have an eye on them bc they're younger. Liam gets raised by everyone. But Ian just kind of floats around in the void, and while they all may love him, they don't notice him.

Lip and Ian are close, but they aren't caring for each other properly.

As long as Ian contributes to the squirrel fund and doesnt make a fuss, they dont see him.

And once his mental state gets bad they all sit around wondering why they didnt catch it sooner. But they never look.

I just wish that someone would see Ian Gallagher.

#shameless #ian gallagher #gallavich #mickey milkovich #shameless us #shameless meta #i just feel so sad for him #why is nobody SEEING HIM #JUST LOOK INTO HIS EYES

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akkivee · 10 months

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it’s not a big section of the fandom but i’ve seen a few pieces of fanart where sanrio hitoya, cat dad of five, takes in ichiro as another cat kid and yes absolutely

#vee queued to fill the void #i unfortunately cannot go back and find them with the new twitter reading limit since i think i found them mindlessly in the dead of night #but like a few days ago 😔#but that’s so cute lol 😭😭😭😭😭😭#there’s a tag floating around where artists are drawing bb and bat as friends and this one comic had hitoya looking out for ichiro #and it made ichiro a bit shy esp since the last time he felt that well looked after by an adult was with samatoki #and both hitoya’s heart and my heart went 😫😫😫🤜💥🫀 lmao #yeah let’s get more adult figures wanting to baby ichiro he’s worked very hard lmao 😭😭😭

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mythvoiced · 9 months

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-. oh not to appear on your dash like the ghost i feel i am, but here's another post of me gushing about the German language, one term of endearment there is in the German language is 'Liebling' which you can use both for romantic partners as well as your children, it's a free for all basically (can use it in a gay slay way too, yknow) because the word itself doesn't imply romance on its own; all that aside i need you to know what it means when translated directly, it means 'Favourite',

Lieblingslied = favourite song; Lieblingsessen = favourite food; Lieblingsfilm = favourite film

so, you're literally calling someone 'my favourite' when you refer to them as 'mein Liebling' or even just 'Liebling', so when Alex calls Henry at 1:37-ish minute mark of r.w.rb-

#;ooc #that last part aside where the substituted 'baby' with 'liebling' in the german version #this is in fact a gorgeous little term of endearment #the more you know about the German language have i yet moved you into learning it #anyways i'll go back to floating in the void just needed to infodump #hmu for more infodumping on languages and whatnot #GOSH my dash icon is bothering me why i might have to change it before i vanish again

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politemenacephd · 15 days

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The Surrogate: Part III

Miguel O'Hara X Peter B. Parker X GN!Reader (+18) Part one Part Two Series Content: Planned pregnancy, Breeding kink, PinV sex, Oral sex, Threesome, Web knotting, Aftercare, Possible Angst/fluff.

Miguel and Peter want a third child, and apparently they've run out of options. That is, except for you, their friend and colleague. They offer to cover everything, and the pay is life-changing. There's just one catch: they went to concieve naturally.

You woke up barely able to feel your own body. It was like you were just a head floating in a cotton void, soft, numb, and still. You breathed in and out through your mouth, lightly drooling on the pillow as your body regained feeling inch by inch, minute by minute.

In that sweet space between waking and dreams you felt nothing. You were just drifting away, away—

“COME ON PAPA, HURRY UP!”

Your eyes shot open as a young girl’s voice echoed in from under your bedroom door.

God, you were so sore.

You were still Miguel and Peter’s spare room, or as they’d declared it, your room.

You barely remembered falling asleep. You remembered vaguely that at around 2am you’d hit your limit, having taken both men approximately 3 to 4 times each, and Peter had tenderly made sure you were comfortable and safe before they both left.

You moved your leg across the bed and flushed as you felt it hit a wet patch to your left. Huh. Peter must have shifted you out of it so you could sleep. You didn’t even want to think about how messy that side was.

You yawned and rubbed your face as you tried to gather your thoughts.

Well, it was done. Or at least, it was started. You’d officially had sex with them both, multiple times, unprotected, while ovulating. It hit you quite hard how serious this was, how serious it’d gotten. You’d had fun last night but now dawn was breaking, and you’d have to start planning your day, thinking about how every step you took their seed was in your womb right now, possibly creating some strange amalgamation baby.

It also hit you that… you wanted to do it again. You wanted them both, you wanted those two men on you, inside you, breaking the bed with their firm, aggressive thrusts, filling you until there was no more room.

Your face flushed violently. You’d hoped you’d at least enjoy the baby-making part, since it’d suck to just have to put up with it for the money, but… you hadn’t expected to enjoy yourself THIS much, right?

Right…?

Was it, wrong, to enjoy yourself this much? You were supposed to just be here as their surrogate, their support, but you could feel your gut tightening at the thought of both men. You felt a small pang of anxiety. You knew you were supposed to be professional, so why could you not stop your mind from wandering?

Your concentration was broken when you heard voices from behind your closed door.

‘Shh! Shh, look- you deal with the girls, I’ll go make sure they’re okay.’

That was Peter speaking, you thought. You could quite easily pick up his voice now. Wait, so both men were awake? Did they think you were still asleep? Then you heard something more.

‘PAPA!’

That was the girls. They must have been dropped home this morning at some point while you were blacked out. You instinctively ducked beneath the sheets.

‘Yes, mi amor! Just a minute, go put your shoes on!’ said another low male voice. Your heart fluttered a little; that was Miguel. He appeared to be calling to who you presumed must be Gabi, before he returned to whispering with Peter. ‘Ay Dios mio- I meant to talk to them though.’

‘I’ll relay the message, big guy. Okay?’

‘Mm... Okay. Fine. Just… Come here, just, quickly—’

You heard a soft, romantic moan as the two presumably kissed against the door. You couldn’t see them, but it sounded like just a quick peck.

‘Muy guapo’ you heard Miguel whisper, his voice just barely audible as it drifted under the door. ‘You know, I kind of hope the baby is yours, biologically.’

‘Oh, really?’

You heard them chuckling and awkwardly shuffled yourself deeper into the sheets. ‘Mhm,’ Miguel confirmed. ‘You make such cute babies. I want to see another one. Pedro’s bebito, eh?’

You felt like you shouldn’t be hearing this, but… It was kind of nice, even if it was a little voyeuristic, and perhaps a little melancholic. You’d been single so long yourself that to hear their soft, romantic platitudes in private was soothing on your own heart. Nobody got to see what they were like alone.

You heard them chuckling again, and this time the door creaked a little. They must be cuddling up against it. ‘But I want another one of you’ Peter whined softly. ‘The red eyes would be so cute. Little red-eyed baby? And the wittle tiny fangs—’

‘Oye, a tiny me will be a tiny nightmare’ Miguel chuckled in a whisper. ‘I’m just glad we’ve got their genes to balance it out, if that happens.’

You blinked. They? Were they talking about you now?

‘Oh, true. Very true. Ah- I hope they’re okay. I was SHOCKED they took as much as they did’ Peter whispered. You felt your face burn up a little as you shuffled down into the sheets, suddenly aware that they thought you were still asleep. You didn’t want to come into their home and look like an eavesdropper.

‘They did a good job, we picked right’ Miguel replied. He sounded happy, despite his professional sounding tone. ‘I agree, that uh- that’s the one issue with it being a friend. I do feel bad about pushing too hard.’

‘Oo, but they liked you though’ Peter said, practically purring as their whispers continued. ‘I could feel it. My big stud did such a good job, you better be careful. You’re gonna ruin them for anyone else.’

Miguel let out a slightly huskier chuckle. ‘What, you want us to keep ‘em?’

You felt your chest grow tight. Something about this whole thing was making you anxious. They were joking about, yes, but… Joking about keeping you? In what way? As the giggling died down, you finally heard Peter’s voice drifting beneath the door once more.

‘They’re pretty aren’t they?’ Peter whispered as low as he could.

‘Ay, Pedrito—’

‘NO, don’t make that face! You know I’m right!’

‘Mm… Yeah, yeah, I know, just- Don’t make me jealous’ Miguel grunted. You heard Peter scoff and felt your face get redder.

Wait, jealous?

‘Don’t make you jealous? You big dummy- You don’t get to look at them with those dark, brooding eyes and then get mad at me for it. You’re my man, and I am yours, heart, body, and soul, but we both know, very well, that our friend is hot, and it’s making the whole thing easier. Mm? Okay? Okay, Mr big soft baby?’

You heard Miguel chuckling again, his soft, dramatic tone now gone. It seems Peter was good at calming him. ‘Mm. Whatever. Maybe you have a point’ he whispered.

‘I always have a point, thank you. Hey, actually, speaking of, uh- I got some time before work if you’re taking the kids. If it’s an option, would you- like me to try and go with them again, or—’

‘No’ Miguel said firmly, quickly shutting Peter down. You tensed a little as you sank into the sheets. ‘No’ he repeated, ‘I want to… watch, if you do. It… mm.’

Your face went bright red as you heard Miguel let out a dark, deeply sensual chuckle, the door creaking as he pushed Peter into it again. ‘You both look, real pretty, when you’re moaning like that. Making me my precious little mjito. Eh? Lemme watch you make it. Don’t tease me.’

You felt your insides flutter and pulse as you listened to Miguel’s filthy little comments about your breeding process, and from the sounds Peter was making he felt the same way.

‘We can try again tonight if they’re willing. But remember, don’t push them. They need to rest’ Miguel said, and you heard him kiss Peter on the forehead. He must have noticed the time as he was suddenly talking much faster, eager to leave.

‘Excuse me, sir, you went four times last night, I only went three. I tapped out first. I’m not the one pushing them’ Peter quietly insisted. You heard Miguel chuckle again.

‘Mm. Okay, you got me there. I did a get a little… overzealous’ he admits, only for his words to be drowned out by the screams and shouts of their daughters. You could hear May and Gabi racing through the house. You felt a slight tug in your heart; you hadn’t considered how you were supposed to interact with them yet either. You just sank deeper into the sheets.

‘Okay, I gotta go. Hasta luego, mi amor’ you heard Miguel murmur, and after what sounded like one final kiss he was gone, calling to the girls to behave and follow. You listened to their voices growing distant until at last the apartment was silent, and only then did you let your guard down.

You collapsed into the sheets and grunted.

For a few minutes, you pondered the conversation you’d overheard in a bit of a daze. The way they talked about you was certainly flattering, which was nice, but, it made you feel weird inside too. It gave you a strange, almost bittersweet form of anxiety.

You buried your face into the pillows, unable to escape the way Miguel’s deep, sensual voice hung in your ears, or the way you remembered Peter’s breath on your back as he worked you, one hand on your neck and one on your hip, curving you like a bowstring.

‘Oh, fuck’ you mumbled to yourself. ‘I’m down so bad…’

‘Hi!’

You almost fell off the edge of the bed you flinched so hard. You spun and glared at the door, only to see Peter giving you that dorky half-smile with the bright, burning light of the sun at his back. You slowly forced yourself to relax.

‘My god… Ah- hey, Peter.’

Peter beamed down at you, his smile sincere. His hair was a mess and he was wearing pyjamas under a loose pink fluffy robe, both of which looked well worn at this point. The man liked the lounge.

‘Good morning, good morning’ he said, practically purring as he crept in and sank down onto the bed beside you. You gazed up at him with curious eyes, trying hard to seem like you just woke up and didn’t hear the two men’s intimate conversation.

‘Ah… ah, good morning Peter—’ you said, stopping to give a fake yawn to sell it further. His soft, sympathetic coos informed you that it worked.

‘Oh! Look at you, so sleepy. I’m sorry to wake you but I wanted to be sure you were okay and just, you know, go over some ground rules for today.’

You blinked and instinctively went to repeat what he said. ‘The what? Ground rules for toda—’

‘OH! But first!’

Before you could even finish your question, Peter had sprung up and hurried back out into the main house, his robe flapping around him as he went. You just chuckled to yourself. What a sweet man.

A few minutes later he threw himself back through the door, now preoccupied with a plate and a glass in his hand he was trying very hard not to spill. He crept over and carefully laid them down on the bedside table. He’d brought you a very simple, plain bagel and coffee.

‘Here, ah- this is what I’d call, pre-breakfast’ he whispered. You blanched a little.

‘Pre, breakfast? What—’

‘Obviously I will feed you more!’ he insisted, both hands raised as he sank down to his knees beside the bed. ‘Or, you can uh- feed yourself more later. The fridge is open to you. I stocked up over the weekend, I had to keep wrestling May out of there because she wanted to eat it all.’

You nodded along slowly as you began taking small bites of the bagel he’d brought. It tasted good, really good, perhaps homemade?

‘Mm- You’re tryna feed me up, huh?’ you replied mid-bite. Peter beamed.

‘Mhm! Gotta make sure you’re well taken care of’ he said, his voice strangely affectionate. Seemingly unable to help himself his eyes roamed down to your belly beneath the sheets, his gaze darting a little, as if he could somehow see the process occurring inside you. It made you strangely shy.

You’d been fine with the arrangement, of course, but it was weird to feel yourself being looked at like a broodmare. You felt how differently Peter talked to you compared to Miguel.

But then his head shot up, and he grinned at you again. ‘Can I see?’

‘Can you see wha- AH!’

You squeaked as he pushed the sheets aside and physically threw himself onto your lower torso, burying himself into your stomach. He squished you hard, his hands grabbed fistfuls of fat and muscle to squeeze, as he held you taut to his face and lovingly smothered your bare skin.

‘MM! Mm! You did so good’ he hissed affectionately, the words flying from his lips as he raised his head. He found you utterly confused, frozen in surprise, with his hands still gripping you tight. ‘You did good’ he repeated in a whisper, his soft smile widening. ‘You did really well. I mean really. The first time I tried to sleep with Miggy I think I nearly passed out. He was ah- a little less restrained back then, to be fair, but—’

He paused mid-ramble as he realized you were still frozen in shock, and his smile turned lopsided.

‘Ah… Sorry. Am I being too much?’ he whispered. You instinctively shook your head, your eyes still unblinkingly fixed on his face. ‘N-No. No! No. it’s fine’ you stammered back. ‘Just- ah, thank you, I guess. I was a little nervous but it, went better than I expected?’

‘Much better! Much better’ Peter reiterated as he sank down beside you. ‘You did an excellent job.’

‘Mm..’ You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at his gleeful expression as you took another bite. ‘Well, again, thanks. So uh, what did you wanna ask, Peter?’

‘OH!’ Peter cried as he clapped his hands, ‘I just wanted to make sure you were okay! And also ah- oh, yes, make sure you know general rules for living here.’

‘I know the rules Peter, I read the contract Miguel sent’ you scoffed a little.

‘You- you did? But- my god, it was almost 30 pages long’ Peter suddenly hissed, seemingly genuinely confused by the idea that you actually read the contract you’d been given. You rolled your eyes again.

‘Yes. I read it. I take my job seriously.’

‘Oh, I know you do’ Peter said, his voice still low but now taking on a slightly subdued flirty tone. ‘You took me very seriously last night.’

‘Peter!’

You gently slapped his thigh as he tried not to chuckle. ‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Let’s start again. So… How are you doing?’ Peter asked, holding his arms out as a gesture of goodwill. You huffed and gave him a tilted smile.

‘Hm. I’m fine, don’t worry. A little sore but not that bad, I’ll be better by this evening, I think. No bruises, no uh- lasting damage, you know.’

You noticed the way Peter’s eyes roamed a little as you mentioned the state of your body. They widened just a little when you mentioned being better this evening. ‘Mhm. Mhm. Okay! Well, that’s great then. So, I need to head off to work in a few minutes, but I wanted you to know the house is all yours. I can go wherever you want, you can use the kitchen to your heart's content, you can use the TV, the games console, we have a few books but uh- neither of us read as much as we should. Obviously, just, exercise the usual safety precautions you would with everything. We know you will, just- yanno.’

‘Peter come on, it’s still me’ you scoffed. ‘You don’t need to talk to me like I’m a total stranger.’

Peter pouted a little. ‘I KNOW, I know, but I rehearsed! Also if I don’t talk professionally I will get VERY inappropriate very fast, so—’

‘Okay! Okay. Gimme your prepared speech then, before you wind up balls deep in me again’ you teased, lightly punching his shoulder. The way his mischievous brown eyes narrowed in response made you just a little warm inside.

‘Mhm. Very funny. Like I said, you’re free to leave, obviously, I left you a spare set of keys on the kitchen counter by the fruit bowl. Everything in the fridge is available except the leftover empanadas and the big stack of unflavoured protein shakes, that’s Miguel’s, he won’t get mad if you touch ‘em but he WILL give you that sad little disappointed pout and talk very curtly for the rest of the day so PLEASE avoid them!’

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Peter’s warning. ‘Oh, yeah, sounds about right. Don’t worry, I wasn’t exactly craving unflavoured protein shake.’

‘Good, because they’re disgusting’ Peter insisted, causing you to laugh again. He then gave you one final smile before noticing the time on the bedside alarm clock, and with a sigh, he pushed himself up. ‘Okay! Well, I gotta head out. You take care, okay? I’ll see you later!’

You raised your hand to say goodbye only for Peter to hurry off, leaving you alone in bed once more. You shifted a little awkwardly in the rich, silk sheets. ‘Ah, sure thing, Peter. See you later’ you said, your voice lingering in the empty air, and in the distance, you heard the front door slam shut.

…

You spent the rest of the day getting accustomed to their house. You had a few days off work to adjust, luckily Miguel had ensured that, but already you were finding it a little boring without your friends.

Their apartment was certainly plush. You could admire it properly now; it had huge window walls overlooking the city, giving a perfect view of the moon rocket, the distant skyrise buildings, and of course the Spider Society HQ standing tall in its center. The windows initially surprised you since Miguel’s eyes were slightly sensitive to sunlight, but as you explored you quickly realized they were tinted with an almost invisible holographic sheen to stop the light from getting through in the same way.

They had a big open-plan kitchen and living room in the same beautiful modern shades of white and black. Everything looks very organized spare for the children’s drawings and toys strewn about the walls and floor. It seemed despite his need for perfection Miguel couldn’t bring himself to impose the same thing on his and Peter’s daughters.

You kept having to jump over balls of webbing and plush spider toys to get to where you wanted to go. It was… almost endearing.

You were left to muse your position and slowly adjust. You made breakfast with the copious amounts of food in the fridge, and you made lunch in the same way. You dozed on the huge, plush couch with your legs up and a thick blanket covering you and caught up on your favorite shows.

As the day wound into the afternoon, a storm came over, blanketing the city in heavy rain and darkness.

You did what you’d usually do on a weekend day off, but… all with a slight niggling thought at the back of your mind. It was the thought reminding you of what you’d done, of what could be happening inside you right now. Miguel’s baby, or Peter’s baby, just- sitting inside you.

You had to wonder how your relationship would change when it happened. You’d been naively certain nothing would change between the three of you after doing this, or after getting pregnant, but you were realizing that just couldn’t be true. They were still your friends of course, without a doubt, but… You had a craving now. A craving for something new, something sweet. Something you’d eventually… have to give up.

Because you were their friend, here to do a job. Nothing more.

You didn’t even notice your body drifting to sleep on the couch. As your mind went wild with a million scenarios you drifted off on the plush cushions, lulled by the rain, white noise, and warmth surrounding you on all fronts.

You only woke to the sound of childish giggling, something that was very unusual in your day-to-day life.

‘Shh! Shh, don’t say anything!’

A strange, muffled voice filled your ears, forcing you to flutter your eyelids open.

You immediately yelped.

Mayday and Gabi were kneeling by the couch barely an inch from your face. The girls were grinning as they looked you up and down, and they giggled more when you tried to scramble backward.

‘HI!’ May squealed, waving her hand. You awkwardly raised your own. Oh god, what did you do? What did you say? You’d forgotten that you’d have to engage with these two.

‘I… H-Hi, there’ you stammered. The girls began pulling on the couch as if trying to get closer.

‘You’re daddy’s friend, right?! You’re here to give us a sibling, right?’ May said, bold and unbothered in a way only a child can be. You felt heat rising to your face.

‘I… Y-Yeah, I am. Your, dads told you about that, huh?’ you said awkwardly. You were forced to make room then as the two girls sat beside you, eyeing you up with curious gazes.

‘Yeah! Dad said they gotta get your help to make it. I hope it’s a girl again!’ May crowed. ‘You’re here carrying the baby for them, right?’ Gabi added, the slightly older of the two being more tactful with her response.

You slowly nodded again. ‘Y-Yeah… Yeah, I’m just- carrying the baby, since they can’t.’

‘So, are you gonna be our parent too?’ May asked loudly, already moving to braid and play with your hair. You grunted at the intrusion but felt too bad to make her stop.

‘Aha, ah- n-not quite, sweetheart’ you said with a nervous laugh. ‘I’m just—’

‘If you’re gonna be another parent then you have to take my side!’ May blurted, putting her chubby hands on her little hips. ‘Papa tells me, I can’t have sugar before bed, a-and daddy says I can’t either! So if I have YOUR vote, then maybe I can win next time!’

You made mental notes in your head as you dumbly nodded; Okay, papa must be Miguel, and daddy was Peter.

‘Papa won’t let you just out-vote them, Maymay, it's not how math works! There’s two of them and ONE of them, it doesn’t work!’ Gabi drawled, smugly folding her arms. May scowled and stuck out her tongue, something Gabi immediately returned. You awkwardly tried to butt in again.

‘Well, I—’

‘Will you watch Bluey with me?’ May garbled a little, gently slapping your arm as she sat down on your stomach without warning. You let out a soft oof, but couldn’t help laughing, especially as Gabi settled at your head in a calmer, cross-legged position.

‘Ah- well, I—’

‘If you watch Bluey with me, you can be my third parent’ May said, gently slapping your arm. Bit by bit, to your surprise, you smiled. Her energy and boundless joy were infectious. What a sweet kid.

‘Sure’ you said gently. ‘Sure, okay, I’ll watch Bluey with you.’

May beamed at you, giving a gap-toothed grin with her big blue eyes and wild ginger hair covering her forehead. You smiled back.

‘Girls! Girls, girls, come here you!’

As you stammered with surprise Peter suddenly appeared, swooping in to your rescue as he lifted the girls into his arms. He held both as they squealed and waved their arms. For a moment, you felt bad that you’d been interrupted.

‘Mi amors! My little demons, mm—’ Peter chuckled as he kissed both girls on the cheek one after the other, going over and over until they squealed and begged him to stop.

‘What did I tell you about pestering our guest? Now, did you at least say HELLO to daddy’s friend?’ Peter said firmly, raising them both to look at you. May groaned while Gabi giggled.

‘Hi, daddy’s friend!’ they both said in unison.

‘Hi, papa’s friend.’

That dark, husky voice filled the apartment, and while the girls squealed you felt your body melt at the sound. You watched Miguel slip in and throw his work down on the kitchen counter so he could scoop up his girls as they ran toward him. His stoic face softened and melted as he pulled the girls towards him.

‘Mi amors, mis pollitos, cómo fue tu día?’ he whispered to them both, letting them tug on his hair and touch his cheeks with infinite patience.

You watched from the side as he talked to his daughters, feeling your heart melt even further at the sight. He looked so effortlessly calm here. While they vied for his attention though, he did shoot you one look. It was a glance only, but you swore you saw his lips tilt into another smile.

‘Pst, hey!’

You jumped and turned to see Peter leaning over you, a huge smile on his face.

‘Come by our bedroom later, once the girls are asleep’ Peter whispered into your ear, instinctively making you freeze. Your face flushed.

‘You- oh, uh… Okay, sure’ you said, but before you could ask why he’d run off to blow raspberries on May’s cheek, tenderly lifting her up and swinging her around the living room. You watched them with a mixture of endearment and confusion.

Come by later? Did… did they want to go again?

It felt like a full age passed as you made your way through the motions of the evening. You ate with the family slightly awkwardly, making small talk where you could. Miguel made an effort to include you, as did Peter, but you still felt like an outsider sitting here while this family chatted and laughed and talked about their day.

You spent the rest of the evening in your bedroom, waiting until it went quiet. Once the girls were asleep, and at least a half hour after that, you decided to sneak out and see what was going on exactly.

When you approached their bedroom door you heard soft laughter inside, which made you pause. It felt strangely intrusive entering their home like this, even though they’d asked for you. It felt… voyeuristic.

You paused for a second before forcing yourself to push it open.

‘Ah, there you are!’

The moment the door creaked open Peter looked over and beckoned for you to approach, his face spread into an eager grin. You took a moment to admire their room as you entered. It was gorgeous, a wide spread of blacks and reds and whites, with high ceilings and paneled walls and a walk-in closet with holographic attachments.

Their bed was huge too, one that was built for dual purpose. It was a bed built for a very large man who liked to move and get rough, who wanted space to throw his partners around, but also a bed with enough space for a whole family to cuddle in on a lazy morning.

Miguel and Peter were currently on the cough though.

You approached with a flushed face, surprised at how bold they were being. They’d clearly been messing around before you arrived, as Peter’s shirt was slightly torn at the hem and unbuttoned down to his pecs, and he had slightly bloody bite marks on his neck.

What you noticed the most though was Miguel’s very obvious erection beneath his pants, one that was throbbing a little beneath the fabric. You felt your body tense as his beautiful red eyes looked you up and down.

‘Sorry, ah- we weren’t sure you wanted to come in’ Peter said as you approached, gesturing to his neck with a dorky half-smile. ‘We didn’t mean to get started early.’

‘Oh. Ah- no, it’s fine’ you murmured. Miguel just grunted.

‘How did you hold up last night, and this morning? Are you in any pain at all?’ Miguel asked in that husky voice, putting Peter and his own arousal aside to lean forward and look you over. You flushed as his eyes undressed you in your pajamas, roaming up your legs, hips, and belly.

‘N-No, no I’m fine’ you insisted. He fixed you with a look to ensure you were telling the truth, then grunted his approval. ‘Did you settle in okay?’ he then asked.

‘Y-Yes, it was all fine. The kitchen was, easy to use.’

‘Were you comfortable?’

‘Y-Yes.’

‘I don’t mean for this to sound like an interrogation, hermosa/o, I’m making conversation’ Miguel said, now raising both brows. You went stiff.

You hadn’t realized how, after getting so stuck in your own head, you’d forgotten that you were friends. You knew Miguel and Peter. You used to talk so normally. You swallowed all of that down and let out a small, familiar chuckle.

‘Your house is a mess, my guy, you’re- clearly baby whipped, those girls run this place, but… I can see why. They’re really sweet’ you said. Miguel’s smile widened, flashing a full fang.

‘There, that’s better’ Miguel chuckled in that husky tone. ‘I want you talking like that when we’re done…’

‘So, you… Wait, you do want to try again? With me?’ you asked then, your eyes darting between the two. Miguel didn’t nod, instead raising both brows as he looked you up and down.

‘Try again?’ he murmured back at you. Despite feeling like it was a reasonable question, his presence always made you feel a little dumb. You swallowed hard. ‘Try for, the… baby.’

‘Oh’ he grunted back, his eyes roaming for a second time. You froze up for one agonizing second before noticing that his lips were tilting into a smile. ‘I mean I guess, yes, but… It was more, whether you want to just, have fun, while we can.’

You almost squeaked. Wait, they just wanted to have sex for the hell of it?

‘O-Only if you want to, of course!’ Peter added quickly. Miguel grunted at him. ‘That went without saying’ he murmured, his low, calm voice a total contrast to Peter’s.

‘No, I… I mean, I do’ you said, the words coming out of your mouth just a little too quickly. Miguel smirked, and you felt yourself sweating all over again.

‘Do you want me to make you cum again, hermosa/o?’ Miguel asked smoothly, almost politely, in a way that made your knees tremble. His unwavering eye contact made you feel so damn small.

‘Or… are you eager to get on?’

His slippery tongue whispering those last words sealed the deal. You felt your entrance clench as if tying itself in knots beneath the fiery gaze of his eyes, his faint smirk, the flash of a fang behind his lips. Peter watched with a hand covering his mouth to avoid showing his own smirk.

‘I… I-It’s up to you, Miguel’ you replied in a slightly stilted manner, stammering over your words. His eyes softened just a little.

‘No, hermosa/o. It’s up to you’ he said, his sweet voice dipping into something more soothing. ‘This isn’t just about us.

You swallowed hard and got to thinking. The more you thought about last night, and the more you thought about how it’d felt to be held, crushed, filled, fucked to the brim by that enormous man…

‘I- just, wanna get on’ you said, panting slightly with the confession. Miguel grinned.

‘Then get on, hermosa/o.’

Miguel lay back and let you and Peter jointly unbuckle and shift his pants down, letting his hefty cock spring forth with such force it almost scared you. Peter groaned at the sight, unable to stop himself from gently kissing Miguel’s neck like he was worshipping a God, and you were left to carefully strip your own clothes aside.

His eyes didn’t leave you, not once. He was locked on as you stripped, and Peter wasn’t much better.

‘Gorgeous’ he whispered, ‘you’re doing so good…’

You mounted Miguel’s lap slowly, like someone trying to saddle up a horse that was much too large. It was almost intimidating to shift your legs around his thick, muscular thighs and clamber on.

He must have noticed this, because his huge hand came down to cup your rear for stability, taking a soft little squeeze of your right ass cheek as you tried to settle. Your resulting squeak of surprise made his member twitch with excitement.

‘There, hermosa/o, down you go’ he murmured, gently easing your hips towards his shaft. You felt it pushing up, the tip twitching for a second time as it started to bury itself into your folds. Another squeak escaped your lips, followed by a low, dull moan.

‘Yeah… That’s it…’

Peter watched with his head on his fist, admiring how nervous you looked despite your arousal.

Miguel held you there, his red eyes darkening with arousal and amusement as he gently nudged his member at your clit, his claws digging into the soft fat of your rear as he gripped you in place. He let the smooth, velvety skin of his tip rub at that little swollen nub until you started to mewl.

‘Come on, mi amor, don’t tease’ Peter said, but he was purring the entire time he talked. He pressed a few soft kisses to Miguel’s neck, something that in the swirling chaos of emotions you were already feeling caused a little pang of jealousy.

‘Get me wet, then, and I’ll get to work’ Miguel grunted. You squeaked then as you were lifted up into the air by Miguel, almost like you weighed nothing despite your size, and Peter moved beneath you instead. To your private joy, he kissed your thigh before going down and eagerly swallowing as much of Miguel’s cock as he could.

His soft, breathy moans filled your ears and made you quiver, your cunt clenching with arousal at the sound, and especially at the look on Miguel’s face. That big man let his eyes roll, his tongue snaking out to lick at his lower lip and fangs only to let them quiver as he felt his thick, veiny shaft being sucked down.

‘Mmmfff—yeah’ he grunted hard, almost growling. Peter only took a few pumps before pulling back and coyly wiping his mouth, only to then use that same hand to give your right ass cheek a wet, firm slap.

‘Alright, go on, giddy up gorgeous’ he panted, and without giving you a chance to even offer a snide rebuttal you were dropped down and thrust into hard by Miguel.

You were in too much shock to even scream. You just felt your eyes roll as your soul ascended, as that perfect, meaty, veiny shaft pumped its hot way into your cunt, smooth and wet with saliva and pre-cum. Your lips parted into a silent scream of ecstasy, as Miguel bit his lip until it bled to avoid screaming with you. You squeezed that throbbing organ like a fist.

Despite thinking you’d be the one riding Miguel refused to give up control for long. He started throwing his hips as he leaned back on the sofa, his arms behind his head as he threw you about like you were riding a bull. He made you bounce, made every inch of you jiggle with the force, his thick member punching at your cervix until you begged for release.

But you couldn’t get too loud this time, so Peter was forced to tenderly cover your mouth and muffle your moans while checking to ensure you weren’t uncomfortable.

‘There, good, good, well done’ he purred in your ear, his breath hot and sweet as it stirred your nape. ‘Good.’

You were once again torn between Miguel’s violent, domineering thrusts, his thick pumps and sweaty, hairy thighs bucking up against you, his bared fangs and dark eyes, and Peter’s soft, kindly words in your ear as he nestled and soothed you.

It was when you felt your orgasm rising that you were once again met with something new. Miguel moved in too, kissing Peter’s lips before nestling into your cheek, as if the closeness aided in his arousal.

You could feel it yourself; his member twitching at your cervix, kissing your womb, closely followed by a full throb that rose up through the veins in his shaft and resulted in a little quiver. He was enjoying this too.

‘Mm… that’s it…’

You were in a total daze with both men on either side, nuzzling each other and then nuzzling you as you were jostled on Miguel’s lap. You could feel at that point that Peter was equally as erect, his own length twitching and making a mess of your thigh with his thick pre-cum.

As your glazed-over eyes met him, you saw his mischievous, hungry smile, his hot breath hitting your parted lips. You knew you’d be riding him next.

‘Make that baby for us, hermosa/o’ Miguel whispered.

‘Make us proud’ Peter moaned.

You knew, at that moment, that this was going to get messy. You also knew that, at this point, you didn’t care.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spider man 2099 #smut #miguel o'hara smut #atsv peter b parker #miguel x peter

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

Text

A Fate Inked In Starlight

Part Three

Eris x Fem!Reader x Azriel

Summary - After crashing into the Autumn Court with no idea who you are, where you are, or how you got there, Eris takes it upon himself to hide you and care for you with the help of the Night Court. That is until souls from other walks of life infiltrate Prythian searching for you.

Part One Part Two Part Four Part Five

Warnings - nightmares, alludes to slight depression and struggling, mentions of blood and torture, memory loss, angst, baby Eris trying to do the right thing 🥺

Drip.

That horrid metallic liquid was sprayed across the walls where you swung by your wrists, your head tossed back and blood leaking from your nose, droplets rolling backward down your cheeks and dripping on the floor.

The room was freezing, stone blocks caged you in at every direction, the only light in the room slicing through the iron bars at the roof of the chamber. A thin grey gown hung from your shoulders, nothing opulent, it was plain and dirty, soaked with tears and blood amongst other things, it was ripped up the side, the threads floating against your skin.

A scratching filled the void, the tip of a sword dragging against the stone floor, "Are you going to cooperate today?" A voice drawled and you winced as you tried to open your swollen eyes, your vision blurred and entire face aching.

Your wrists were burning, the ringed wounds tearing themselves open and whimpers straining in your mouth. Chains rattled and you felt yourself lower closer to the ground, the tips of your toes brushed against the stone but you weren't lowered enough to stand, to give your shoulders and wrists some relief.

Fingers curled around your chin, jolting it forward so that you were looking at the owner of the voice. "I asked you a question, pet," from what you could make out, his smile was chilling, eyes narrowed and cold, short black hair, and you wished your vision would clear for just a moment, just so you could really see him.

"I don't know what you want," you rasped, "I don't know what I'm doing here."

His tongue ticked against the roof of his mouth, you felt him circling you, like a predator toying with their prey, "Don't play with me, pet, you know that I don't like your games," you felt the skin of your abdomen slicing apart, pooling with liquid that ran down your thighs.

"You have the wrong person. Please, I don't know what you want," tears ran down your cheeks, searing pain drove through you and you sobbed.

The room began to rumble, with your terror or his anguish you weren't sure, "Do I have to take another thing you love to ensure your loyalty?"

Creaking metal doors blew open, and your stomach dropped at the aroma that washed away the scent of death from the room. Burnt orange peels and pine, warm rain, and a hint of caramel. Eris.

"Flora," he called to you weakly, he sounded so defeated, his voice sounded gargled and wet, and he was dropped to the floor with a thud that made you cringe.

"Give me what I want, pet."

"Flora."

Your bottom lip wobbled furiously, the room felt like it was tipping on an opposing axis, "No. Not him. Not him. Please."

"Submit yourself to me and I will spare him," he moved behind Eris, ripping his head backward and pressing the blade to his throat.

"Flora!"

"FLORA!"

You awoke screaming and thrashing, tears flowing down your face and chest rising and falling at a dangerously rapid pace, "Hey, hey," a voice shushed, hands bundled in your hair with burnt orange dancing around you, "You're alright, okay? You're in Fir Manor, you're okay," he mumbled over and over again until your breathing had slowed to an acceptable rate.

"You, you were -I," you were struggling to form words, to speak, to convey what you had seen.

The place had felt so familiar but not at the same time, like you should remember being there, like it was important to remember that place. The stench of iron and that searing pain made your stomach churn and you bolted from the bed, rushing to the toilet and emptying whatever contents in there that you could.

A cold hand pressed against your back, rubbing circles between your shoulder blades, "Come on," Eris picked you up from the floor like it was nothing, scooping you into his arms and sitting with you on the small two seater sofa before the fire. The blanket he had used to cover himself for his slumber was tossed aside, thrown over the edge of the furniture, and the rug was slightly askew from where he had hit the floor and come running to you.

Eris had made a habit out of sleeping on the cruelly small thing the moment your nightmares had started two weeks ago. Nightly, you'd wake up mumbling, incoherently trying to throw together anything that would make sense whilst panting and sweaty, pale with fright. And nightly, Eris would soothe away your troubles, he would hold you until you fell back asleep before tucking you back in your bed again.

It felt different though, that this time the nightmare had really shaken you to the point of physical shuddering. It was the first time you had alluded to him that he was present in your dream, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"You were- he was going to- I couldn't," you bubbled, shaking in his arms like a leaf in the wind.

"Hey," he cooed to you, covering you in his blanket and rubbing warmth into your arms, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here."

Eris was the calm. Eris was the safe place. Eris was breathing. Eris was alive. It was just a dream.

Just a dream.

Eris stood at the window, looking out into the gardens at you as you weaved between flowerbeds with Duke in tow. A pale yellow sundress wrapped around your figure, and he smiled fondly as your fingers dragged through the blooming flowers, each one of them bending toward your touch.

Nature just seemed to adore you.

It was the morning after Rhys and Azriel's visit that he found you in the gardens, feet dipped into the fountain with swirling spandrils of water flowing up your arms and neck. It was then that you both found out that you could control water, and by extension, anything made up of it.

Eris was encouraging, he had sat with you in the ponds and fountains and coached you, trained you to control your gift like he had trained to control his. And soon enough, you could summon the element from wherever you stood, your personal tendrils extinguishing his fiery rage with gentle licks across his hands.

He had noticed how the nightmares had been altering you. You had become more withdrawn, the personality that had been bubbling beneath the surface for the last two weeks now retreating. He had to do something.

The stress of your situation hadn't helped, you knew how dangerous it was to be in the Autumn Court, Eris had told you that much. He promised to protect you, and you believed him. But he didn't know how to stop the nightmares, he didn't know how to plump out the circles under your eyes. You had tried sleeping tonics but they didn't want to work on you, neither of you knew why.

"I don't want to go," you told him after he'd sat you down and proposed you visit Rhys and Azriel, both of which you had become closer with, through letters and their idle flybys to check up on you, constantly telling you of their progress, "I feel safe here. I feel safe with you."

Eris had told Rhys of the nightmares, told him that they could be memories trying to claw to the surface, told him that you needed a distraction, that you needed help. The heir wasn't sure what the High Lord saw in you, but he always offered clear advice and a bedroom at the River House with your name on it whenever you should need it.

"I know," he watched as you fiddled with your fingers and kept your eyes on the floor, "This will be good for you. You'll love Velaris, Little Flower," he ran a hand down your hair and gave you an encouraging smile.

"The decision has been made?"

"You'll be back with me before you know it, then we can carry on with your training and read our books by the fire. It's just temporary," your eyes were flooded with sadness, it was taking everything in him to not take back what he had decided and wrap you into his embrace instead, "I promise."

That's how you found yourself curled up in the library within the River House.

Rhys' family were lovely, and Azriel had tried to make you feel as at home as possible, but something just didn't feel right. The safety that you had felt wrapped around you like a shield had disappeared, replaced by a shrill chill that made you too alert. Too poised.

Velaris was beautiful. The book was lax in your hands and you found yourself reading the patterns of the stars instead, like you could simply reach up and pluck one from the sky-

"Flora?" A gentle knock sounded at the door, you turned to it, finding Feyre stood in the gap possessing an ethereal glow and trusting eyes. She entered, seemingly floating to where you sat, and took the place beside you.

Snow capped mountains and starry skies welcomed your gaze as you turned back to the window. A tidal wave of gentle light glowed beneath you, flowing like a river through a valley, that humming energy bowing its head and delving into every beautiful corner of the city.

"How are you feeling?"

"How am I supposed to feel?"

Feyre frowned, "However you'd like. There's no pressure to feel a certain way."

They had all welcomed you with open arms, Mor had even hugged you, and to everyone's surprise, Nesta had offered a shoulder to talk to if you ever felt like it.

"I struggled with nightmares too, after what happened Under the Mountain," she confessed and you found yourself looking into her quizzically, "I died to save Prythian, to save Tamlin, from Amarantha. I dealt with the repercussions of resurrection nightly afterward, I dreamt of being back there, and then one day I was here and I began to heal."

"How did you do it?"

"You find ways to ground yourself," she shrugged, curling her legs up beneath her, "Whether that be a smell, or person, or memory, you find ways to ground yourself in the present, to remind you that whatever fills your past is exactly what it is. The past."

"Do you think that these dreams are memories?"

Feyre hummed, "Maybe," the High Lady had made many a painting of the marks you had sketched and sent to Azriel, something about them intrigued her to the point of inspiration, her power thrummed when she saw them, and she took to the canvas to accurately depict how she saw them in her mind.

Amren had told you that your markings were runes, ancient things painted on walls on crystals in order to try to contain and control power. It was other-worldly, and she was able to tell you with confidence that the runes were by no means inflicted upon you maliciously, more like your body forced them to appear in order to protect itself.

Your mind floated to Eris. You wondered how he was, you wondered if he was sat alone drowning in the silence of Fir Manor whilst you were surrounded by light and echoing laughter.

"We will help you, Flora. Rhys won't admit it but, you remind him of his sister a little bit. I think that's why he's so determined to have this all figured out, so he can help you in ways he couldn't help her," Feyre had been in awe of your beauty despite the deep circles under your eyes, you reminded her of herself, like she was staring at a mirror into the past, "Even if we do figure this out and you have the option of returning home, I want you to know that you're welcome here, if you ever wanted to stay. Though, I feel someone would outbid me on that." Feyre had spied the swirl of shadows in the corner of the room when she had entered, they had been watching you and then your exchange unbeknownst to you, she smirked at them, knowing that they'd be whispering to their master that they had been caught.

"I do love it in Autumn," you had assumed she was talking about Eris, who else could she have been speaking of? "I was happy there, I think."

Feyre took your hand in hers and tugged you up, she had loaned you a few of her dresses for the time being, just until she and Mor could take you into town and buy everything your eyes landed on. They knew how it felt to feel out of place and unwelcomed, and they wouldn't wish that upon the fragile creature that had stumbled into their lives.

"You can be happy here too, if you just give us a chance?"

Hope.

For the first time in two weeks, since the nightmares began, you felt hope. Beautiful, all-consuming hope.

You took one last look out of the window as Feyre began to pull you from the room and toward her family, you found the stars that begged for your touch, sparkling brightly as if to say pick me, choose me. Their disappointment clear by their faltering shine as you willingly followed Feyre, followed her down the path of healing, a path toward the life you wanted to build for yourself.

Not for anyone else, but for you.

"I can see you. We're coming."

You bolted upright, your breath caught in your throat. It took you a moment to adjust to your surroundings, to realise that you were in Velaris, in a room across the hall from Azriel, and that Eris wouldn't be coming to bundle you into his embrace and have his steady heartbeat rock you back to sleep.

"We're coming."

Violet pools of shadow hovered before your face, they were wide, like they weren’t expecting that you could see them. The only source of light in the pitch black room where you lay. An arm emitting black curls of smoke reached for you and you flinched backward, hitting your elbow against the headboard and hissing in pain.

"You're not meant to be here."

The voice was clouded but sounded so familiar, the warmth and tinge of worry in their eyes did also, it was odd, how a ripple of whispering shadow felt so intimate.

It disappeared as quickly as it came, floating away like a freshly blown out candle, wisping up through the roof and into space.

Authors Note

Part 3!

I’m sorry if any of you are finding things a bit slow, I just want to do this fic justice.

Part 4 is gonna be wild ✨

Thinking about making this into a 8/9 part series, what do we think?

Taglist

@acourtofbatboydreams @glitterypirateduck2 @isaxbella749 @aactuaaltraash @imma-too-many-fandoms @blackgirlmagicforever

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