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sinfullyrosey · 9 months

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Pushing Your Buttons

Lilia Vanrouge X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fingering, Orgasm Denial, Oral, Semi-Public, Misuse of Magic

Got like three people in my inbox asking for more General Lilia, but I don’t do requests and this fic has been sitting unfinished for months now. So, no general fae, but current papa bat using phantom magic to mess with his favorite little, magicless human.~

I just realized I have written a male reader, gn reader, and now fem reader for this old fart. The triangle of smut is complete.

Also, I apologize in advance for my terrible text speech skills. I personally don’t type like that normally and struggle to do so for fic purposes.

You were slowly going insane. Absolutely bonkers. Throw you in a padded cell and lock away the key levels of mad. Couldn’t even concentrate on the simple tasks given to you by that aggravating crow without your mind immediately buzzing from the searing hot sensation between your nether regions.

Simply ignoring it had become impossible by this point. It has been nearly an hour now since it all started and nearly an hour have you suffered at the hands of that old bat. Running all over campus, delivering papers and whatnot, all the while your pussy is being played with like some handheld controller!

Another whine slipped past your clenched teeth once more as a particular spike of pleasure shot through you and made your stomach twist even tighter. You faltered, almost tripping on nothing along the pathway, and decided to stop and steady yourself as those fingers worked at your wet folds.

You heaved a shaky sigh and began to rummage through your school bag for your phone. Pulling it out, your knees buckling when you felt yourself growing wetter, the feeling of something dripping causing you to panic. So far you had been good to keep yourself together and, surprisingly, the fingers had been rather merciful, only occasionally grazing along your slit or palming at your mounds for only a few seconds.

But now they had just gotten bolder and more persistent, lingering longer against your folds, spreading your lips and pressing around your entrance. Sharpened nails playfully raking along your thighs or pinching your skin. At one point they even groped at the spot where your thighs and butt cheeks meet and suddenly squeezed them, making you yelp and startle the hallway full of confused students.

Thankfully, you were in a more secluded place on campus right now, free from the leering eyes of male students as they watched you slowly fall apart.

With trembling hands, you tapped on your messaging app to type up a response to the culprit behind your cruel torment.

‘Lilia plz knock it off’

You waited patiently for a reply. With some relief, you felt the hands temporarily release themselves from you, presumably to type a response back. A break that was short lived, however, as the moment your phone dinged from the incoming reply, you once again felt the hands begin to rub at you. This time, much rougher, and with purpose.

‘Now, why ever would I do that little one? The fun part has just begun.~’

As soon as you finished reading his text, you suddenly let out a pitched moan when you felt his thumb gently press down on your previously neglected clit. Your walls tightened as he rolled the sensitive nub in circles, fingers spreading your pussy open to play with the folds as your whole body shook.

You could definitely feel yourself dripping now, clear slick running down your thighs and soaking the top part of your thigh highs socks. You clutched the helm of your skirt, trying to pull it down and cover more of your front in embarrassment. You were really hating that he had removed your panties earlier on when he first started to tease you. Being so exposed an unable to keep from soaking yourself in your own mess was making everything so much worse.

You typed frantically the best you could while trying to ignore the sensation of his skilled fingers

‘U and ur stupid magic fantom hand thingys are drivin me crazy!!1’

You could only muffle your squeals and moans the best you could, looking around to make sure you were still alone as you stumbled over to somewhere with a bit more privacy. With the insistent prodding and palming of your pussy, you could only find a bench to sit down on to prevent yourself from falling and hurting yourself.

‘Oh, I just love to push your buttons dear! And this little one of yours is my absolute favorite to push and play with! So small. So cute. Just like you!~’

You let out a needy whine as he playfully pinched the puffy bud between his fingers, gently tweaking it and making your body tense up from the delicious sensation.

‘And it elicits such adorable sounds from you too.~’

Your legs trembled and shook as you spread them out more, giving him better access to your needy hole that was just dripping in anticipation for him. Two of his fingers easily slipped past your entrance, pumping themselves inside you at a leisurely pace. Waves of euphoria were crashing down onto you as your vision grew hazy from the pleasure.

The wooden bench was stained from your juices as you continued to leak from where you sat. you clutched onto the bench ends the more that coil twisted and tightened under his ministries. You were panting and moaning as his fingers found that special, spongey spot in you and began to abuse it with each pump.

All your previous responsibilities were long forgotten as Lilia fingered you with his magickly-produced phantom hands. His thumb still pressing and circling your overly sensitive clit as he worked you towards an orgasm.

Your toes were curling in your shoes, head thrown back as you felt yourself slowly approach your much anticipated release. Your body was impatiently bouncing slightly in the seat, moving to meet his own thrusts and pounding harder into your G spot. Your eyes closed tightly, vision blurring, and breath quickening when you felt yourself on the edge of pure euphoria.

And all at once, it suddenly stopped.

The phantom hands ceased their movements, slipping out of your warm hole, leaving your walls to clench along nothing. The coil was left to relax and simmer down, but still tight from the brink of release that was stolen from it. You blinked blurrily, vision still spotty as your head came to the conclusion of what just happened. Your pussy fluttering and still leaking, but empty and unsatisfied.

“Wah-?!” You slurred.

You quickly looked down, lifting up your skirt to see that the hands had completely disappeared. Your stomach dropped, panic rising as you stumbled to reach for your phone that you had tossed aside when you first sat down. Your eyes scanned to see if he had left anymore texts or if he was in the process of typing, only to see it completely silent. Your fingers quickly tapped away in desperation as anger flared within you at this cheeky old bastard.

‘Lilia wat the fuck?!1!’

You seethed as you saw the bubble with three little dots appear, indicating he was typing and very much still around, hands available, yet not putting them to good use. Like giving you that much deserved orgasm!

‘Oh my, just a few minutes ago you were telling me to “knock it off” and leave you be?’

‘Lilia Im literally going to explode’

You could just hear him chuckling at your response from wherever he was right now. You let out a huff, rubbing your thighs together to get some sort of relief, but to no avail, so you gave up. You were just about ready to call him to give him a piece of your mind when another text popped into chat.

‘Best be on your way and finish your errands. Don’t want to keep you waiting any longer now, dear.’

To end off his text and further punctuate his point, he used the phantom hand again to promptly flick your reddened clit, sharp nail scraping against it and sending a sudden shock wave of pleasure bolting to your core and causing you to double over. Your cunt clenched around nothing and you let out a desperate keen.

You glared angrily at his text, a few tears building up from frustration as you aggressively tapped away on your phone. You may be too pissed to call this irritating fae to yell his ear off, but you weren’t angry enough not to send him a few choice words.

‘plz plz plz PLEASE just let me cum already Vanrouge!!1 im horny im stressed and im about ready to make my way to diasomnia and whoop ur old creaky ass you fae fuck!1!!’

You continued to glare at your phone screen, waiting for your annoyingly charming fae lover to respond to your rather childish, but justified outburst via text.

‘Alright, if you insist.~’

Success.

You grin in victory, spreading your legs in anticipation of his hands lavishing you once more and finally rewarding you with the well-deserved orgasm. You felt the phantom hands on your thighs once more, spreading you further.

And then you felt the sensation of something warm and wet slowly lapping over your slit, spreading your folds and grazing over your sensitive clit. You let out a loud gasp, body tensing at the realization of what he was doing.

Your eyes widened as his phantom tongue began its torturous pattern of slowly lapping along your folds, before reaching your clit and sucking on it briefly, then starting all over again. You could feel your juices leaking out of you once more with each suck and lick, your phone dinging with incoming texts.

‘You taste absolutely divine, my dear. Still just as sweet and juicy as last time.~’

He made a point to dip his tip into your clenching cunt, lapping up your slick, then sucking up your release messily. You let out soft moans as your body convulsed under his touch.

‘In fact, I think I’ll enjoy this meal for a little while.~’

It was the sharp sensation of a pair of fangs gently nibbling on your poor clit that finally had you losing your mind as your moans grew louder and body helplessly approaching your orgasm once more. But every time you reached that edge, he would slow down or stop briefly until you settled down once more.

‘After all, you never clarified when to make you cum.~’

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Smut #TWST Smut #Lilia Vanrouge Smut #Lilia Vanrouge X Reader #Fem!Reader #'Are ya winning Lilia?!'#Answer: /YES/

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marybeatriceofmodena · 1 year

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What did Andrew Lloyd Webber do to make Patti Lupone upset? Sorry, saw your tags and i was curious

Oh.

Oh honey.

You sweet child.

Anyway, get ready for one of the most infamous showdowns in all musical theatre history, with the guy who writes the straightest musicals on Broadway (derogatory) and the one and only, the matriarch, the queen, two three-time Tony award winner Patti LuPone.

So, Andrew Lloyd Webber was basically kind of a boy genius in his prime - he met his future collaborator Tim Rice when they were 17 and 20 respectively, he wrote his first big hit, Jesus Christ Superstar, at 22, with Tim Rice writing the lyrics. And it was kind of a big deal at the time because the topic was controversial (you know, the Passion with rock music), but also because Broadway wasn't that far off from its golden age and let's just say the music and style were very different from, say, My Fair Lady. Or The Sound of Music. Or Funny Girl. It was basically the Rent/Hamilton of its time. (Yeah, Stephen Sondheim was around at that time, he worked on West Side Story which was revolutionary in of itself, but he's kind of an oddball in this case. You'll understand why later.)

Their real follow up (I'm not counting Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for a variety of reasons) was a little musical called Evita, which you might know mainly because of a song called Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Or at least, your mom has probably heard it once at the very least. It's that song that's oversung from a musical while being out of context along with I Dreamed a Dream for Les Misérables. Or Memory from Cats.

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Evita tells the story of Eva Peron, the wife of an Argentinian dictator, who basically screws her way to the top and ends up becoming the mistress of Juan Peron and the most beloved woman in her country through guile and deceit. Yes, I know the historical accuracy is very much debated but I know jackshit about Argentina's history except the bare basics so don't come at me. It was first produced in the West End in London, with Elaine Paige in the role, but because of Equity issues, she couldn't reprise her role for the Broadway production. So a Julliard graduate who was mostly starring in David Mamet plays got the part instead, and that was Patti LuPone.

Patti... did not have a good time during Evita, because the part is basically the kind of score where you can tell the composer is used to writing male parts, but most female singers have a two-octave range (yes, you got Julie Andrews who used to have a three-octave range, and many others, but they're exceptions), so she struggled a lot. That being said, if you listen to live recordings of her, you wouldn't be able to tell, and it got a lot easier later on. But she had this to say:

"Evita was the worst experience of my life. I was screaming my way through a part that could only have been written by a man who hates women. And I had no support from the producers, who wanted a star performance onstage but treated me as an unknown backstage. It was like Beirut, and I fought like a banshee."

This is from Patti's autobiography, which she wrote in 2007 - 8 years after shit with ALW went down. With all that said, she won a Tony Award for Evita, and she pretty much became a musical theatre household name from then on. She played Fantine in Les Misérables, Nancy in Oliver!, Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. Meanwhile, ALW's next big hits were Cats (I'm not even kidding, Cats was a hit), and, you guessed it, The Phantom of the Opera, which he wrote in part to showcase his then wife Sarah Brightman's triple threat talents.

So, you need to understand before I continue that ALW, from my perspective, has always had a bit of an inferiority complex. He's basically associated to writing these commercially successful musicals that show a big spectacle but aren't ultimately substantial. I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I do think that if he didn't have Hal Prince, Maria Bjornson, Charles Hart and Gillian Lynne backing him up for Phantom, it would have probably been a Rocky Horror Picture Show knockoff people would have forgotten about pretty quickly. This is what I mean:

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Yep, that was Phantom before any of the people I mentioned above (and Michael Crawford) were really involved.

Remember how I said Stephen Sondheim was an oddball? The thing with him is that his musicals weren't always commercially successful, but in general, in part thanks to being Leonard Bernstein's protégé, he was generally pretty well-respected and it was considered that his work was bringing musicals to a whole other level. Without Sondheim, you wouldn't have Jonathan Larson, and you wouldn't have Lin-Manuel Miranda. I am convinced ALW is resentful of that, and when you stop and think about it for more than 10 seconds, it's so obvious he REALLY wants to be Sondheim or at least command the same level of respect, but that's a story for another day.

So, after Phantom, ALW had other musicals that followed that either got a meh reception or outright flopped. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which is based on the movie of the same name with Gloria Swanson. Despite all of her griefs for Evita, Patti LuPone agreed to partake in the musical as Norma Desmond, for its production in London, with the promise that she would transfer to Broadway once that production would open. And overall, after a string of flops, Sunset was actually doing pretty well.

HOWEVER. One day, while reading the gossip column of a newspaper, Patti found out that contrary to what she was promised, Glenn Close, who was meanwhile starring as Norma in the Los Angeles production, was to play Norma on Broadway. That was a complete surprise for her since no one on the production team had bothered to tell her it was happening - and keep in mind that for the news to come up the way it did in a gossip column, it probably would have necessitated a delay of a few weeks between the producers and the newspaper, which would have given them plenty of time to break the news to Patti. And Patti kind of needed the leg up because she was pretty bitter that a) Madonna was cast in the Evita adaptation instead of her; b) they actually lowered the key to fit Madonna's voice range, and she still had to expand her own to be able to sing the (lowered) score. And trust me, Patti is mad about it to this day.

So of course, she trashed her dressing room, the cast and crew weren't even mad about it because they were as shocked and angered as she was by the news. Patti sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for breach of contract, namely for 1 MILLION DOLLARS (yup, those are the real numbers), won, used the money she got from the lawsuit to get a swimming pool, which she called (and I SHIT YOU NOT) the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool. Since then, Webber is dead to her, to the point rumor has it she had part of a building blocked during an event so she could get out of it without coming across Webber, because she hates him so flipping much she doesn't even want to be in the same building as the guy.

(There's also drama that happened with Faye Dunaway who was supposed to replace Glenn Close after she went from Los Angeles to Broadway, except they abruptly closed the show down after Close left, but that's a story for another day)

So with all the bad press, and with ALW forced to pay 1 million dollars for Patti's lawsuit, that led Sunset's productions to close earlier than expected. ALW has stayed around since, with... mitigated output, so to say. The lowest point for a lot of people is Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom, which some people love, and that's fine, but it didn't do well with either critics nor fans of the original show, which ALW is EXTREMELY BUTTHURT ABOUT. And like, there are so many stories I could tell about LND alone, but I will share my own crack theory about it, since it does relate to the ask.

Anyway, buckle up.

So. There have been jokes going around for years that the Phantom in LND is basically ALW's self-insert, where he displays to the world that he's totally not over Sarah Brightman leaving him (in part because making Phantom kinda ruined their marriage lmao), despite, you know, having married since. (Aaaaaakward.) So LND basically becomes this really uncomfortable therapy session where a man writes a self-insert musical about how his ex-wife made a big mistake of leaving a sensitive artistic soul such as himself. The characters from Phantom who appear in LND are all more or less unrecognizable as a result, and one who gets it worse (in my humble opinion) is Meg Giry, who was basically Christine's sweet and loyal ballerina friend who basically went into the Phantom's lair on her own to save her friend despite the danger. In LND, she's basically a bitter hag (because ALW hates women, guess Patti was right about that), who really likes the swim and even has a stripping vaudeville number about it, written in universe by the Phantom, no less.

For comparison, here's Don Juan Triumphant (the Phantom's opera in the original):

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And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):

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Yeah, so... do you see why people hate LND already?

And that's not the only thing with Meg! She's also pining for the Phantom to pay attention to her and threatens to drown the Phantom and Christine's secret love child when he makes it clear that he's gonna love Christine for EVA AND EVA.

So, with everything we learned today about ALW, would someone like him view someone like Patti LuPone as some sort of crazy, bitter diva who's obsessed with him for whatever reason? Absolutely. Would he be petty enough to insert Patti LuPone into his self-insert musical, which gave us the version of Meg Giry we got in LND? Of course. Why does Meg love to swim so much and why does she drag Gustave out ostensibly for a swim? Is it a dig at Patti's Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool? Maybe.

I kind of hope we find out one day if that theory is true. And maybe start a kickstarter so Patti can add this painting from the 2004 movie in her collection.

Fun fact: during the process of casting for the 2004 movie adaptation of POTO, ALW allegedly suggested Patti LuPone to play Carlotta... only for Joel Schumacher to have to awkwardly remind him that they were not on speaking terms. The idea was therefore promptly dropped.

#YOU'RE WELCOME ANON #anon asks #Andrew Lloyd Webber #Patti LuPone #evita #sunset boulevard #phantom of the opera #love never dies

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velvetures · 11 days

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Got Me Snoring pt.2

A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long... I've been doubting doing a part two simply because the first blew up like... crazy... and I'm afraid this one isn't going to measure up to the first. But THANK YOU to everyone for the love on part one... it's wild how much you all liked it. I appreciate all of you thirsty fuckers. Summary: Ghost is set on giving you the same change of perception on reviving head after figuring out just how bad you are at taking care of yourself. T/W: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, cunnilingus, size kink if you squint, spit?, lots of fem! fluids, a little male fluids..., cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and I'm still terrified this is gonna suck.

You woke up with a sore throat.

No doubt or haze in your mind about how it happened or why. And the only thing you could think was the word big…. big… big…

God, Ghost was so fucking huge. You nearly mistook the images in your mind for a dream. One so goddamn filthy you’d not be able to look him in the eyes. Only one of those big hands was sprawled over your belly. Fingers digging possessively into the little bit of pudge under them. Denting your skin and steadily reminding you of the rest of his body melted against the back of yours. You’d not moved an inch all night. Highly unusual on a normal day, but not with your Lieutenant sharing the bed.

Sharing a seat on the plane home wasn’t familiar either.

He felt inhumanly warm with his arm rubbing yours as the jet stream rocked the cabin of the plane. And the looks shared between the others as they watched the pair of you didn’t make your skin feel any cooler. Gaz staring at the spot where Ghost’s thigh rested against yours nearly made your pants singe. You couldn’t believe Ghost was just sitting there with his head leaning back against the wall. Maybe sleeping… he wasn’t really moving much. But you couldn’t tell. Nor possess enough confidence to look up or nudge him and find out.

Your sore throat ached a bit too. Raw, and making your voice scratchy, it’d been hard to give a solid ‘good morning’ without everyone asking if you’d come down with something. Your only thought was how Ghost came down something… and you had swallowed. A thought that felt good to hear in your own head… at least when Captain Price wasn’t looking at you with sharp, observant eyes.

Surprisingly, Ghost wasn’t the one who made you feel anxious. He’d been… different in leading up to the flight home. Having your bag packed before you’d noticed, getting you up before the others…. ‘Answer their questions later, little one.’ he’d whispered, masked mouth heating up your ear as he murmured so closely to it. Thoughtful… you’d decided. Realizing only after he’d solved the problem that waking up in bed with him would’ve caused a stir amongst the boys. He even made you tea… the way you like it; With some thick honey at the bottom. No doubt for your rasping voice.

No. Ghost was different.

No one had the gall to mention the Lieutenant strangely shadowing you though. Like you’d suddenly gained a massive black phantom tagging alone at your heels. On missions he would linger close by without anyone noticing, but that just felt… professional. Watching his wide shoulders slump towards yours while sitting on a shitty, makeshift, bench in a cargo plane? That was a whole different look. Even Price spent a good half hour chewing on an unlit cigar, trying to work out what you two had talked about the night before for Ghost to act like this. It was clear though. None of them suspected anything close to what actually happened.

Sitting next to him felt surreal. Especially when he’d been the one who silently insisted that you sit next to him. Having snatched you by your belt and tugged you onto the bench beside him instead of letting you find somewhere mushed between Gaz and Soap like normal. A low grunt of a sound and a firm nod pointed in your direction once he got a look at you sitting next to him much more shyly than normal.

You could smell his cologne, and memorize the tattoos peeking out close to his wrist. Feel his leg twitch to steady himself in his seat when the plane shook a bit. Even listen to the sound of his steady breathing. A whole new experience you’d not really thought about trying before. You nearly felt like you were learning Ghost all over again. Taking every small movement and reexamining it. Because… you couldn’t deny that he had readjusted his view of you.

A blowjob shouldn’t have felt that… intimate, you thought. Remembering the undeniably filthy things Ghost had said. It should’ve left you fulfilled… but not like you actually were. Some warm, expanding feeling, filling up your chest and making you want to hide your face and giggle. A grade school crush level of nervous energy you’d never felt towards a man before. Yet here you were, sitting there half-dumbstruck, watching your Lieutenant stretch his long legs and sigh softly as the landing gear rolled to a stop on the tarmac.

“Comin’?” He muttered, voice level. Maybe a bit impatient as those dark eyes settled on you.

Normal… you reminded yourself. He wasn’t talking you differently; No need to over analyze everything. Letting him lead was the smartest thing. The only way, really.

“Yeah,” Your voice makes you hesitate to say anything more. “Just got stuck staring…”

Ghost doesn’t show any real reaction. Just nods, and grabs his rucksack off the floor next to him. Wordlessly taking yours along in the same hand, walking off with -essentially- everything you had. Suddenly motivating you to not only move your ass off the plane, but follow his long strides to wherever it was he was possessed to go. And whether or not the others even noticed, you didn’t have the luxury of worrying about.

The Lieutenant had your weapons… and your only clean pair of pants.

You didn’t have to follow him far though. Only walking a few meters past your own quarters and down a hallway. Staring at the wide gap between his shoulder blades and the heavy sway that rocked the belt clipped around his hips.

He had your bag tossed next to his on a desktop inside his room without a single trace of the fact it wasn’t a habit. Sitting down heavily and reaching over stiffly to tug at the laces of his boots. Toeing them off with small squeaks of new leather and sitting them under the desk. Either purposefully staying silent to listen to your brain working, or totally unaware that you were stupidly standing there, watching your Lieutenant do a decidedly human thing with wide eyes.

“Come’ere…”

Ghost took off your boots just as simply as his own. Quiet, leaned over your foot propped up on his thigh and not even mentioning your hand resting on his shoulder to steady yourself. Feeling him tug the blouse out of your pant legs, and gently squeeze at your ankle to hold your foot steady.

You didn’t know how to feel about it.

Mortified… maybe. For the simple fact that you had worn the same socks for two days and his head was too close for comfort. Touching you. At least, touching you in a way that wasn’t meant for sex. It didn’t feel like you were doing enough. Weren’t providing him anything.

Guilty… yes? This wasn’t something normal in any situation. You hated a return. It’s what made you feel like you were causing a problem. Made laying low and staying quiet a habitual behavior. And Ghost being the one bent over and struggling to undo the tight knots in your laces? Nearly unacceptable. He didn’t need to… shouldn’t lower himself like that.

Ghost noticed it and you tried to beat him to the punch.

“You don’t have to-”

“Look like you’re gonna faint.”

That hand squeezing softly on your ankle tightens a little before releasing, gliding up your calf and patting you softly before guiding it off his leg. Those dark eyes look up and down your clothes, over your decidedly nervous expression, and back down to your boots before sitting them right next to his.

“Don’t tell me…” he mutters, leaning back in his chair, hands resting on his hips. “You’re not a fan of receiving… are you?”

The next two days, you leaned quickly that what was his, suddenly had made room to account for you as well. Almost instantaneously you’d been accounted for in just about every single way you could think of. You washed laundry… you found it put away in one of his drawers. You ordered food to base… it was in his room, not yours. Tried to get into your old quarters… the key wouldn’t open it anymore.

How he’d managed it, you didn’t even want to know. But, Ghost effortlessly took into account every single thing necessary to move you into his life without even a single question. And managed to do it perfectly. You couldn’t question it either, since he’d accomplished the endless tasks to such a degree of attention that you weren’t sure a man could even reach.

“Um, have you seen my black jeans?” The question felt a bit odd, and so did standing in the doorframe of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around you.

“Top drawer. In the closet, next to my pants.”

You couldn’t quite adjust this easily. Not that it wasn’t what you wanted per se. You’d enjoyed Ghost’s company more than anyone else the past couple days. And while he’d been accommodating, it wasn’t like he was bowing to your feet. He came and go as he wanted and didn’t crowd you like he was clingy either. However he did make you feel uneasy with how little he made a fuss about doing something for you.

You never asked for him to do anything. Yet he managed to do everything you ‘hadn’t gotten around to’. And worst of all, when it was time to sleep, he wouldn’t lay down until you eventually caved in and crawled under the blankets first. Almost like he was letting you get settled exactly how you wanted before even thinking about moving closer. No sex. No outward attempt at it. Not even a subliminal hint that he wanted more of your mouth, or anything else for that matter.

It nearly broke you. Or, better spoken, broke your perception of how you expected him to act. Which, made sense considering Ghost wasn’t anything close to the men you’d been with previously. They were always pushy… and he didn’t even push you to your side of the bed when you unconsciously wormed your way to his side at night. Your exes treated sex like a favor needing to be owed. And Ghost wouldn’t begin to act like he’d ever thought about the possibility despite having fucked your throat like he owned it.

Your jeans were indeed in the drawer next to his. And he did ask you to grab a pair of his as you retrieved yours, adding on that you’d be leaving in fifteen minutes… unless you needed more time to get ready.

You finished up in less than ten.

A bar on a Saturday night was Soap’s idea. Drinks, a few cigars, and the whole task force was his way of ‘team bonding’ and no one had a good enough excuse to deny him. Especially when there was a new mission lingering in the next couple weeks, and Price already had the files on hand. You thought it was a bit cliché. Sitting in a musty bar, listening to Price talk over the music about terrain, entry points, possible back-up, and the preemptive teams he was putting together.

It seemed his mind had been working just as hard as yours over the past days. Only you were preoccupied with Ghost’s hand firmly kneading at your thigh under the table. His thumb working at a sore spot just up and to the right of your knee. Forefinger squeezing to alternate the pressure and resist from making the movements feel too harsh. Looking far too relaxed while scanning a document and flipping through the pages with his free hand.

You’d resisted for hours at this point. Forcing yourself to stay quiet and not say something about it. Reminding yourself he was just doing it because he wanted to. Not because he thought he’d get something out of it. He wasn’t holding out. Every time his skilled fingers found another sore spot that made you twitch, you needed to physically clamp your mouth shut or take a drink so you didn’t tell him to stop.

“Another round?” Gaz held up a few bills in his hand, looking around the table.

When everyone agreed, you lost the willpower to sit still. Straightening up and trying to scoot towards the edge of your seat.

“I’ll go up since you’re paying.” The rush in your voice was lost on everyone. Everyone but the man who suddenly locked down with a vice grip on your leg.

Ghost didn’t even flinch. Still looking at the file in his hand, but that cold grip on you didn’t hesitate. Gluing you to your seat and enhancing the sudden sensation of his fingertips dipping under the ripped material stretching over your thigh. You couldn’t understand it. Dumbly trying a second time to stand up, only for it to earn you a side-eyed glance and a slight pinch to your exposed skin.

“No.” he muttered, chin jutting out in the direction of the man, already heading towards the table after seeing Gaz pull out cash .“The waiter’s comin’.”

And right on cue, a younger guy walked up and began taking orders. Going around the table, and stopping at Ghost was a very familiar kind of apprehension on his face after seeing that black mask stretched over his face. If only he could see under the table at the way your thigh was shaking from the soft touches.

“Nothin’ for us,” Such a cool dismissal of the guy that you hardly even notice what he said. “Price, leavin’ out.” He added, moving his hand to palm the back of your neck easily. Giving the slightest tug to get you up out of your seat as well.

“Little one’s comin’ with me.”

Not a soul at the table questions it.

Against the wall yet again.

Not unlike the first time… Ghost has a pattern. You’re breathless, but much more unaware of how this situation is going to play out. He hadn’t said a word in the drive, and kept the tightest sightline out the windshield you couldn’t even see his irises from your profile view in the passenger seat. The second he could spot the door to his room? His big body bullied yours right where he wanted it. Keeping you pacified by a hand over your mouth and dark, plotting eyes glaring down.

“Why’d you do that?” His question further raised the questions in your head. It’s all you can do to shrug, as if you had much autonomy over the rest of your body at this point anyways.

“At the bar,” The clarification deepens his irritated tone. “Why’d you take orders like that, huh? Like some fuckin’ maid.”

“You all wanted drinks.”

Unfortunately it’s not the answer he wanted, and you’re hauled that much further up the wall. Only now, you’re suspended fully off the ground. Balanced on his forearm jammed between your thighs; feeling his palm flat against the wall. God, it felt fucking ridiculous. He shouldn’t been able to do it, but he wasn’t even shaking. Dead calm and just watching you unintentionally grind down more on his arm the longer you’re forced to stay like that.

“I got my own.”

You nearly catch an attitude. Wanting to mention that it’s just ‘polite’. And for that matter, you’d not paired for a single drink all night. So, naturally it was only fair you go get them… You settle on saying something a bit more safe. Maybe more manageable even with how little your mouth wants to function.

“I didn’t pay.”

Ghost just snarls, head tilted and looming closer.

“I don’t fuckin’ care,” His hips flinch forwards, jamming against you to send the point home. And you’re not stupid enough to ignore that he’s hard. The long, thick line of his cock disappearing under the edge of his belt; tucked safely to have been able to escape the bar without anyone throwing looks his way.

“Stop doin’ shit just because.” He growls out a bit more directly. “Do it because you want it.”

His point skims over your understanding. “I do what I want!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” The dismissal is soft enough you know he’s not totally pissed.

“When’s the last time you made yourself feel good, huh?” He pauses, giving you a glimpse of his tongue licking his lips under that mask. “I think I remember you sayin’ you’ve faked it plenty of times… How many times is that? How many times you ignored that pussy cryin’ for attention?”

You get it. Oh, you finally understand… And damn it your face doesn’t burn hot with the realization that he’d caught on to just how bad you were about prioritizing yourself. Not even the dull, thudding pressure of your cunt sitting directly in his muscled forearm is enough to distract you from it. The mind game over, and Ghost holding yet another victory in his hand.

“I.. I don’t know,” You look away, unwilling to admit it. “A few times.”

“Bullshit,” He grunts, jerking his lower body against yours yet again. “You might not know that… but you do know how many men… don’t ya, sweetheart?”

Chest caving in defeat, you answer. “Five.”

Ghost’s chuckle is almost patronizing. A deep, rumbling one low in his chest that makes chills run up your back. Purposefully his wrist rotates a bit and your clit rolls over a thick muscle. You’re helpless to hide the pinched yelp it earns him, and it only makes him chuckle for longer. If you’d been in any other position, it would’ve been music to your ears. Now it just felt… punishing. Arousing beyond belief, yes, but still a bit of a sting to your pride.

“Five boys…” He muses aloud. “Not a fuckin’ one with enough sense to breathe without thinkin’.”

He stills for a moment, eyebrows furrowing over dark brown eyes. A debate in his head.

“Then i’ll teach you…” He nods once. Firm and resolved to the decision. His free hand coming up to trace your jawline with a reverent, almost scared touch. “Now that you’re mine… I’ll teach you how to be selfish.”

“S’not like I don’t know how.” It’s a wonder you’re able to sound that confident between the pressure to your cunt and the way he’s talking to you. Unflinching as always, he just smirks under that mask.

“Gonna show you how easy it is… to take pleasure. How to enjoy it.” Each word falls from his lips like thick honey. Whatever he’s planning so fucking rich in his kind that even his mouth slows and his accent thickens at the mere imagination of it. “You’re gonna learn to be good for me… and M’gonna start with that little pussy…”

One dangerous look down at where your thighs are trying to clench together freezes you.

“Not gonna let her be ignored anymore…”

Ghost’s tongue curls through your swollen, sensitive, lips; helping guide himself to your pulsing clit. Humming victoriously when your stomach flexes and your body jerks away from the steady pressure. Each lick is the same. Dragging up your slit and purposely spitting against your hole until you both can feel it dripping between your cheeks. Taking his time like this was almost painful. Feeling the twitch of his jaw against your inner thighs and hearing his thick swallows as he drank down your arousal.

It almost made you feel queasy, being the sole focus of this. Your hands unable to find somewhere to rest. Feet unwilling to settle on his back or off to the sides, like you knew you probably should be. Ghost was so intense that you shook. Muscles tremoring around his head and exciting him that much more. You were still stiff though, and it showed. Much to his excitement, it meant that he’d have that much more time between your legs. More opportunities to take you out of your head and throw you into a totally new one.

“It ain’t my mouth makin’ you shake, little one.” He murmurs, almost like he’s talking to your cunt instead. It’s hard to reply when those dark brown eyes lay locked on you from between your slicked thighs.

“I… I don’t know…”

Ghost just chuckles, kissing your inner thigh. Both hands slipping between your legs and using his thumbs to spread you open for him. Heavy eyes looking at your glistening hole covered in his saliva. Spitting on you yet again, and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh when your breath evaporates from the sheer sight of it.

“M’gonna make you feel everythin’ they couldn’t,” your eyes nearly roll back in your skull when he blows a soft, cool, breath over your hot skin. “You’ll memorize what my tongue feels like in your cunt… never gonna come empty again…”

You clench when those words come out more like a threat than a promise. Having heard that tone so many times sitting in on his interrogations. Always relating it to pure torture and the promise of wishing for death over being rested in Ghost’s hands. Only now it was startling just how badly you wanted to hear him speak like that again. Never having heard anyone sound so fucking serious about sex, or find yourself reacting so desperately. Your eyes scrunching shut and your head falling back against the bed, nearly pained with anticipation and a healthy dose of the most fearful arousal you’d mustered.

“Ghost - please, please… just, god take it easy on me.” Your voice is soft, pleading. Actually a bit timid of how far he planned on taking this. Of course he wouldn’t hurt you. You trusted him that much. But pleasure could be just as effective of torture, and Ghost was well-versed.

Another kiss presses to your thigh, “Nothin’ without your permission,” Those dark eyes gain crinkled lines at the corners though as he smiles. “But you’ll like it, little one. Every disgustin’ thing m’gonna do to make this pussy cream…”

His thumb glides over your outer lips, toying with you. Gentle to avoid sensitive spots and draw this out, but mean enough to remind you just how dedicated he was.

“Yeah, baby… you’re gonna look so good when I lick the fuckin’ come out of you.”

His mouth descends over you without another moment of hesitation. Still slow, but now it’s not just his tongue lapping at you. It’s his lips, rough with a couple days neglected of shaving. His teeth -which make you jump at first- pinching and nipping. But it’s all in the perfect pressure. Somehow fully aware of how sensitive you are right now and that the slightest move could be far too much. Reversing your twitches of apprehension into soft rolls of your hips against his face. Allowing you to guide him without a word. Learning how you want it whether or not you ever realized that it was guiding him better than a map.

You loved the slow, consistent pressure around your clit. Not rubbing right over it like he was sure you’d been subjected to before. No… you needed it softer. Sweeter. Just how a pretty girl like you deserved. Circles with a flattened tongue and his fingers working inside you. Even then, you got so fucking tight when he didn’t pull his fingers out all the way. Instead letting you milk them as the pads of his fingers curled against that textured, upper wall needing attention.

God, it was so easy. You had such beautifully clear reactions. What felt good, you’d nearly hold still for. As if you’d never felt it before and couldn’t withhold from the desperate curiosity. And when it didn’t, such polite grinds and roll of your hips would be almost too helpful in moving the bridge of his nose or his tongue to where you wanted it.

Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he ate pussy with such rapt attention. Enjoy it had always been easy. The taste, the sounds, feeling in control… any man in his right mind would relish in it. But you? You made his hard cock brushing up against the mattress fall to a true afterthought. He didn’t even care that there was enough precum drooling from his tip to soak through denim jeans.

Your first orgasm is a beautiful accident. Ghost’s body isn’t even what earns it. It’s his fucking mouth saying the nastiest things imaginable with a busy tongue stroking your clit. Rambling low and sluggishly, a thick lisp when his bottom lip tries to slide across your pussy on the right syllables.

Good job, tha’s it… s’good for me.

Keep fuckin’ drippin’ like that.

Stay right there -just like that- let me lick her clean baby…

You come quick and hard. Not even getting to relish in the feeling of release that wasn’t by your own hand before Ghost is working for another. It’s the most impatient habit he’s got and won’t deviate. Using the clench of your pussy around him to advantage by working you open all over again. Purposefully providing that “first touch” stretch throughout orgasms like a reset. Short term memory erasure of all his hard work just to massage at your shaking legs as gentle reassurance.

“Don’t — Don’t stop.” Your panting. Wanting to warn him as the second approaches a bit slower.

You’re still nervous to perform, but the edge is off. Having been given just enough reassurance that you can, in fact, come from someone else’s touch. But the slight tremor in your voice hints at the hesitation you have to come again.

Enough time elapsed to overthink what you sound like. How you appear from this angle and anything in between that has been a problem before now. Ghost doesn’t move an inch. The only thing he does is take a steady deep breath and move one arm to rest his forearm on the bed. Like he’s settling in.

Getting fucking comfortable.

And he stays just like that until you’re shoving yourself up the bed and away from his chasing mouth to try and take at least one complete breath. Your feet sliding in the sheets and the hair on the back of your neck getting cold once it’s not matted to the pillow. Previous experience anticipates that it’s the end. That Ghost isn’t going to follow. That he’ll take the credit for making you come twice, and enjoy a fluttering, wet cunt around his cock.

His face is next to yours and his swollen lips are kissing your temple over and over sweetly. One hand keeps his heavy weight off of you while the other gently reaches to your neck. Holding your head to ease the acute angle of it and shyly feel your pulse. You’re too dazed to see the look on his face. How relaxed he is, counting your heart beats and watching sweat slide across your temple and get caught in the baby hairs there. Observant, but utterly obsessed by this moment. Drinking in self-satisfaction and the much more addictive taste of seeing you fall apart under him.

“I got you. I’m here, breathe baby.” Keeping his chest close, he exaggerates his own. Pressing against you, grounding the feeling.

“It’s so much.” Admitting it makes you feel awful. Like you’re not enjoying it more than anything you’ve felt before. But you’re unable to explain just how raw your nerves feel. Terrified that if he touches your clit again it would bring real tears to your eyes.

Ghost moves closer, sharing body heat you didn’t know you even wanted. “I know, little one… you’re so sensitive. S’okay.” He answers, gently reaching down to pull both your thighs together and against him.

Curling you to his body and holding your legs to help ease the radiating pleasure signals thrumming in your pussy. His hand rubbing your outer thigh, squeezing at the stretched muscles in your hip. Dissipating the tightly-wound lower half of your body that is still expecting his fingers to touch you again. Split between wishing he would force another orgasm out of you and nearly passing out from overstimulation.

Ghost knows better though. You’d gone too long without someone else controlling your pleasure that it was going to be hard enough. And a second only compounded your body’s response. In the moment he felt possessed to prove a point. Really, the same one you had for him. But the moment you scurried back, that part of his brain turned off. Keeping you safe in this state was just as important as anything else. He didn’t want you faking anything again. That included when you felt like you couldn’t take more.

“We’re done, baby…” he kisses your cheek, tasting the sting of salt on his lips. “No more; jus’ easy touches… M’not gonna play anymore.”

It works wonders, simply taking the guesswork out of this. Allowing your legs to fully sag against him, trusting those fingers grazing up and down. Even your head letting go of the remaining tension holding you off the pillow. Ghost can’t help but smile. Kissing you yet again. And again. Helping himself to the sounds of your breaths evening out and the softness of your dewy skin on his mouth.

His hot body sticks to yours a bit, but it’s comfortable. Helps you feel secure, laying there balled up and trying to work through the multiple sensations still making it nearly impossible to open you eyes and look at him. Desiring to say a simple ‘thank you’ or at least, give him a smile just to show that you’re appreciative. Another one of those nasty little things you’re convinced is necessary right after the deed. Poised to give positive reinforcement at the first moment so the guy won’t run off.

“Th-thank you,” The way you say it almost sounds guilty to Ghost. Even the hand rubbing you doubles down, more firmly. Like he’s hoping to keep his own emotions in check by reminding himself of how skewed your perceptions are.

“S’not a ‘thank you’,” He replies, lips against your ear, feeling the easy, toothless, smile he’s got. “Told you the other day… I wanted it. Wanted you.”

Your eyes do open then. Hearing him refer back to the mission. Like he’s not the least bit affected by it in an embarrassed kind of way. Adding that much more reinforcement to the nearly unbelievable idea that he’s actually meant it and not just so he could get a bit closer to you. Surely he couldn’t, right?

“You mean that?”

Ghost’s eyes brighten, and he chuckles very deeply. Bumping his forehead against yours.

“You and your sweet pussy aren’t going anywhere.”

requests are thanks to: bvxygriimes bobochacha kmcmpmd simonsslvt verynastyspoon featherbrainedangel flower-olive riri-is-a-girlie bii-aan-ckaa mxshpitmom stormy-knight134 glocuseguardian3rd variety-fangirl and about eight anons that I can't tag unfortunately :(

you're all so lovely and I want to give you each a big smooch

reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

my ask box is always open, but fair warning I'm slow haha

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #velvetures writes #velvetures #anon <3 #velvetures answers #anon answered #anon ask

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urfavlarry · 1 month

Text

MASTERLIST

Hazbin Hotel

Husker —

Overlord!Husk x reader

Overlord!Husk x Waitress!reader

Overlord!Husk x fem!reader imagine

Husk x Overlord!reader

Alastor —

Alastor x insomniac!reader

Alastor x reader (platonic)

Alastor x reader imagine

Carmilla Carmine —

Carmilla Carmine & daughters hcs + reader insert

Male!Carmilla Carmine x reader

Velvette —

Velvette hcs + reader insert

Niffty —

Niffty hcs

Lucifer Morningstar —

Lucifer Morningstar x reader imagine

Zestial —

Zestial x overlord!reader

School Bus Graveyard

Aiden Clark —

Aiden x reader who is trapped in the phantom realm

Aiden x skater!reader

Getting caught making out

Tyler Hernández —

Tyler x reader who is trapped in the phantom realm

Tyler x Barrons gf!reader

Tyler x reader who is trapped in the phantom realm part II

Reader calming Tyler down after he gets mad

Getting caught making out

Tyler x gn!reader who got beat up by Barrons friends

Logan Fields —

Logan x POC!reader

Ben Clark —

Reader calms Ben down after he gets mad

Taylor Hernández

Getting caught making out

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narcissistshandler · 8 months

Text

𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗠𝗘 𝗙𝗘𝗘𝗟

from the series of thoughts that I only have during the night: I really find it incredibly erotic to fuck a man who, for whatever reason, whether it be a cock ring, a chastity cage or just tiredness/stress, can't get hard. judge me, I don't care. top!male reader and bottom! geto suguru below, no specific warning, but this is a bit angst and dark. minors dni. if you haven't seen part one of season two or haven't read the manga this contains spoilers.

Suguru was tired. Exhausted to the point where he wouldn't even consider dragging himself to the bathroom and letting the icy water that threatened to freeze his bones help with the ever constant tension in his shoulders. The phantom taste of the cursed spirit that lingered in his mouth, consistent even when it had been days since he'd swallowed it. He wanted to vomit. Wanted to pass out under the stream of water. Wanted to sleep for hours at a time, not even considering waking up. It was easy to search for just one word: disappear.

Instead of all that though, he was seduced by your hungry eyes, by your deft fingers always touching him with mastery - and a gentleness that never failed to make him sick. You undressed him as you took his mouth in a deep, sweet kiss that erased the sourness and bitterness rising in his throat, not commenting on the deep, dark circles under his empty eyes, or the decreasing frequency of times he returned to what you called 'home'.

You trailed kisses down his neck and shoulders, your every hurried, warm movement giving away just how much you wanted him. And you didn't even point out loud that Suguru wasn't even hard for you.

"It's okay." Suguru opened his mouth to say, using all his remaining strength to touch your wrist where for the last five minutes you've tried to bring him to hardness. Suguru really wanted you. He couldn't think of a better way to take away the darkness that roamed the corners of his mind with memories of the past rather than with your cock inside him. But he knew he wouldn't get hard, It didn't matter how much you tried.

Suguru spread his legs wider around your hips and apparently the look he gave you - desire beneath the exhaustion - was enough. You warmed up the lube and started prepare him with your fingers.

The first finger went in easily, there was nothing but temporary discomfort, yet Suguru felt as if his skin were on fire, the stretching sensation tensing his legs. Familiar noises began to fill the room; three fingers pushed their way inside him and Suguru thought he was close to losing his mind. It felt good, very good. Your fingers opening inside him, making a wet noise each time they moved in and out of him, driving deep, rubbing his prostate. Suguru still wasn't hard, but he didn't care and he knew you didn't either.

He opened his mouth to beg for your cock, his throat dry. Only ineligible noises came out, a jumble of letters that didn't make sense along with your name. "Dema me ur psua [name]," he muttered. "[name] [name] [name]."

Somehow you got it, how could you not when Suguru was writhing in the sheets, feet tucked into the mattress working to sink against your fingers?

The tip of your cock pressed against the taut edge and began to thrust inside; thick, perfect. Suguru's eyes fell closed, a sound that was a mixture of wail and sigh left his lips and his back collapsed against the mattress, as if all the remaining strength left him.

There was barely any burn, but he still felt every nerve in his body ignite with the sensation of your length pushing its way inside him. The tight walls made way for you, his hole molding itself around you. Suguru searched for your lips like a starving man in the desert.

The sound of the waves as in a distant dream faded, taking with it the flashing memories of Riko Amanai, deeper, the smiling face of Haibara beckoning to him faded away into the darkness under his closed eyelids, only the wet sound of skins meeting was left, the grunts that came out of your mouth, the feel of your fingers digging into his thigh, the reality.

The shadows are gone, only an inexplicable calm remains.

Suguru's cock was limp against his stomach without any sign of coming out of it, even when you once again took him in your hand and started to stimulate him. It felt good, so Suguru didn't tell you to stop. He surrendered to you, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his pale skin as you began to move, in and out of him, each time faster and stronger until you were fucking him mercilessly into the mattress in an uncomfortable position that pressed his knees close to his head.

One of your hands moved up his taut stomach and began pinching his nipples hard, eliciting groans from him. Suguru knew that the next day his nipples would be sensitive, his hole swollen and red, but he didn't care, in fact he wanted this desperately: to carry the marks of your belonging on his body, so that he could remember the heat, violence and control of your touches.

His hole tightened with rhythmic contractions, the feeling of being full, of having you filling him to the brim was too much. Suguru gasped against your mouth, barely finding the will to pull away from you, even if it was a mere kiss. He pulled your lower lip between his teeth and urged you to do the same, to take all your frustrations and tiredness out on his body. He needed this.

Words weren't necessary.

Your teeth sank into his shoulder hard enough to draw blood, your thrusts became faster and deeper, nails digging into his skin. Suguru knew how to make you hurt him and he knew you wouldn't stop if he didn't tell you to. All of him craved the pain and anything else you wanted to give him. The admission was a dark and heavy veil: Suguru was yours to take and he was broken.

Desperately, he mentally begged: please hurt me more. Hit me, scratch me, bite me, pull my hair harder, fuck me until I bleed, fill me up until I taste you in my throat. Make me feel. Remind me that I'm not alone.

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 7 months

Text

Pretty like the wind

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n Part two! Writing was all I could think about today. Thank you for the love. It's been a hot minute since something brewed in my brain. 🤍✨

warnings: blood, violence, past trauma,

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Finding a way to focus had been hard the past couple of weeks. Azriel felt like a ghost who had pledged the sanctuary. He barely got out of his room, and if he did, he twirled around in the shadows. Watching. Hacking. It was an unsettling feeling at times. Feeling those golden eyes burning holes into your back. Listening in on your conversation. Yet every time you would turn towards where the phantom feeling of him lingered, you were met with nothing. A space where you had hoped to find him.

"Invite him to the communal. It sure must not feel nice to be left behind", Padme, the high priestess, casually said just the other night when you brought her all the paperwork you had sorted through. "He is free to come, P. He ain't a prisoner", you stated blankly. Focusing solely on the piles of papers as you arranged them. "You're being neglectful, my dear", those words made you look up as you frowned. "He is not my responsibility. I'm not assigned to him. I don't...", you stuttered on, crossing your arms around your chest defensively. "And yet... Our high lord had called for you specifically", she trialed off. A knowing, ancient smile painted her lips. You knitted your eyebrows as hard as you could, trying to look frustrated, but that only made the high priestess chuckle. You had wanted to find a strong enough counterargument for her statement, but your words failed you. So you bowed your head to her before walking away.

"Is he an ancient spirit?", Zofie, the young fea girl, asked as she looked up at you, making you crack a smile. Some of the kids have been more than observant. But then it was hard to miss a male of Azriel's size. And while grown women didn't spare him a second glance, the kids had grown curious. "That's an Illyrian soldier, Zo", Axel said, rolling his eyes at the younger girl. You questioned your choice the closer you got to the spymaster's room. He might very well not even be there. And even more so, he might have another outburst. And you had brought kids with you...

"Well, how would I know? I'm only little", Zofie stomped her little feet, making grabby hands at you. You shook your head at them. "Why don't you two ask him all of your questions yourself?", you suggested, right as the wooden door at the end of the hall came into view. You halted once more, but your lingering steps were outmatched by Axel, who had sprinted down the hall before you could even open your mouth.

Azriel had been trying to summon a bottle of whiskey for over an hour now. He was tired and frustrated with the lack of communication Rhys was willing to engage in. The only thing the high lord was willing to say was that Elain had gone with Lucien. She was in autumn. That had made the spymaster curse Rhys in all the languages he spoke. He was about to list all the reasons why that trip was not a good idea when Rhys shut him off completely.

Now he was sitting on the floor. Shoulders slumped. He looked ahead of himself. One of his shadows had flustered before moving towards the door, ripping at the handle. "I'm not going anywhere. So drop it", the spymaster had muttered. But the shadow didn't budge, nudging the metal tightly as a knock sounded, making Azriel look to the side. He was ready to ignore it. The last thing he needed was to deal with more nonsense, but then the thought struck him. What if it was you? What if this was his chance to get you to tell him how to get out of this place? If he caught you here, he would still have time to interrogate you spymaster style, and then...

Azriel grabbed the handle, spreading his wings behind him as he frowned. Yanking the door open. No one met his eyes. There was nothing there. Azriel was almost sure of it. Until a loud gasp filled his ears and something light hit the floor. "Axel", the sound made Azriel peer into the hallway. That's when he noticed you rushing towards him. That's when he noticed a tiny frame curled on the floor. Tiny leathery wings draped around the shaking body.

Azriel's wings sagged. He reached his hand out, but you were quick to stand in between them, your eyes wide as you stared at the spymaster. "Are you insane?", you said through gritted teeth, turning to look back at the trembling body. "Hey, Ax. It's all okay. No one will hurt you", Azriel watched as you carefully moved to brush your fingers through the boy's hair. A tiny, trembling hand reached out towards you. You took it without hesitation. The girl whom you had carried up to this point stood slightly to the side, her tiny palms pressed into her eyes. She was hiding. Scared because of... Azriel quickly shook his head. "I didn't mean...", you turned his way, his soft gaze replaced by a burning anger. "Who even opens a door like that?". Azriel was about to bite back when the boy looked up at him, muttering, "Wow..."

"Axel...", you questioned him, worry lacing your features as you watched him. "You're big... and your wings", the boy said, his eyes now fully on Azriel. You bit the inside of your cheek. Pulling Zofie closer to your embrace. The dark twirl swam towards the boy, and you were about to seize it with your magic until it ruffled Axel's hair softly, nuzzling against the boy's cheek, making him chuckle.

You swallowed thickly before turning back to Azriel and saying, "We came to invite you to the communal but...", to the sound of which both of the kids perked up. "We learned a new song", Axel said, "Zofie dances with the ribbons. Right, Zo?", He pulled at the girl's skirt, but she didn't lift her head from your shoulder. Something ached deep within Azriel. He craved fear. At this point, he was convinced that no one would ever learn to look at him any differently but watch kids shake at the sight of him... He had watched them for some time now. A part of why he had stuck to the shadows was because he didn't want to scare the younglings. He doubted seeing a big, bulky male—there were no other males here, as Azriel had noted—would make them feel safe.

"I'll come", Azriel said, thinking about reaching for the girl but choosing against it. She looked so small, clinging to you. He had made a child frightened. He had never... Azriel felt a small palm wrapping around his two fingers. "I'll show you the pool we have; well, it's not a pool, but... you'll see", Axel chirped, already dragging Azriel down the hall. You were about to protest. As it was, you had a long list of reasons why Azriel shouldn't come at all. He met your gaze. You watched him. Was he silently asking for your permission? You gave him a tight glare before nodding.

The kids were in their element, as always. Singing loudly as they danced together. Axel was up in the front lines, his eyes not leaving Azriel. Zofie had slipped off your lap midway through the third song and was happily twirling with her pink ribbon in hand. Azriel sat beside you. You could tell that he was uncomfortable. You doubted he watched the children much. You even doubted that he understood just how important it was for Axel that he was here. Azriel's eyes were scanning the place. Memorizing faces. You let out a sigh, and that seemed to have done the job because the spymaster lowered his gaze toward you.

"You know, you're an asshole", you said while plastering a smile on your face. Azriel huffed, "Says you", crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, I'm sorry, but out of the two of us...", you trailed off, shaking your head.

"You brought kids as backup", Azriel snarled once more. Now these words made you look right at him as you growled, "You wanted to break my neck". Azriel gave you a puzzled look. "Oh, don't look at me like ancient Mother Sun; you think I'm that stupid? You would have leaped at me once more", your words had come up more like an accusation than you would have liked. "For the record, I wasn't going to break your neck", Azriel muttered. Even more frustrated by your last statement now. "Oh, my apologies. Locking me up? Hanging me up from a ceiling? A bit more your style?", you rolled your eyes at him. Azriel gritted his teeth. You were getting on his nerves slowly, but then the fact that you thought he might break your neck... Oddly enough, he hated that. Azriel wanted to be far away from being a predator. He didn't want to inflict harm or fear. Slowly, he started to wonder about how much he still didn't know. Not just about this place, but himself. Another stab ripped past his chest, and Azriel let out a tight sigh. Clapping erupted around the room. Azriel joined in mindlessly, turning his head slightly your way and saying, "I'm so...", but he was met with an empty chair. Azriel's eyes darted around the room. He searched for the two kids as well but was met with a crowd of faces that didn't have any meaning to him. Azriel let out a frustrated growl, tightening his fists.

The candlelight was barely visible. Your eyes were burning from tiredness. You knew that you weren't going to get anything more done, but you refused to leave your study. It was the only place where you didn't feel him. And heaps of paperwork had managed to shove him out of your brain. It was bad enough that Axel talked about him until he eventually fell asleep. Padme, however, had given you a dissatisfied look. And you knew she was right, but you too had your reasons. You weren't a babysitter. There were no direct implications that it had to be you who monitored Azriel's behavior here. You knew that Rhys had eyes of his own here. He didn't need weekly reports. You blew out the last remaining candle. Not having enough energy to care about the scattered papers all over the table.

Rubbing your eyes, you moved towards the door. Opening them up with a spell. And you wished you hadn't the moment you did. A mortified scream left your lips. A hand clasped over your mouth. Flickers of your magic sparked, cracking the solid wall of darkness. "It's just me", you shoved your palms against Azriel's chest. "You're a sick bastard", you said, pointing an angry finger at the spymaster. To your surprise, he let out a low chuckle, making you huff. "How dare you laugh?", you moved to fix your dress. Trying to hide the tremble in your palms. "You're running away from me", Azriel stated calmly. You gave him a daring look and said, "I am not inclined to see you".

Azriel watched you. Even in the dim hallway, there was no way he could deny that there was something about you. The way you carried yourself You had proven your point that night in Azriel's room when you drew his consciousness away from him. He knew you had magic lurking deep within. But even that didn't seem like something that would call to him. "But you can answer some of my questions", he stated blankly. You shook your head in disbelief. "You did all of this so you could ask me a question? Under what rock have you been raised?", you stepped closer to him. Here. Here it was. That daring glare made something deep flick within Azriel.

"You'll have to forgive me. I was the one to wake up in a place I knew nothing of", he snarled back. Taking the last step towards you. Fully towering over your frame. Your head was now drawn up, so you could keep eye contact with him. "But I wasn't the one who went for a mated...", You cut yourself off. A bitter taste coating your mouth. The fire in your eyes died down. "Say it", Azriel muttered through gritted teeth. You watched him. You had no right to judge, and you didn't. "Everyone knows about it, don't they? You tried to make a fool out of me by dragging me to that circus today?", Now his words were drenched with venom. You had nudged a sleeping tiger. "That was not a circus. Communal is for children", your voice was small. Azriel let out a bitter laugh. "Is that what Rhys wanted? To humiliate me", there was pain so deep within him that even your bones ached.

"And you... you're here to orchestrate it", he snarled, stepping away from you. You suddenly felt so little. You had no intention of making Azriel feel like a fool. He shook his head one more time before he turned to step away. "Azriel...", you called out, stepping forward to grab his hand. Forgetting all boundaries. Losing control over your mental shields. The moment your hand touched his, all you managed was to take one more inhale before a ray of vision flashed right in front of you.

Azriel felt as if he was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. As flashes and flashes of what seemed to be memories glimmered through his mind, he saw the sanctuary. An elderly lady. Coldness and pain. Something that reminded him of the basement he had been locked in. Then there was Rhys. Illyrian camps. Angry males. A fire. Shouting females. Scattered wings. Blood. Shrieking children. He tried to move. He was unsure if it was real or just in his mind. But when he lifted his hands, bloody palms met him.

You yanked your hand back. Breathing heavily. Azriel was panting too. He blinked a couple of times. Eyes darting to your trembling frame. Your cheeks glisten with tears. Void grew deep within the spymaster's chest. Azriel moved to step closer, but you put out an arm in front of yourself. "I won't hurt you", his voice was the softest you had ever heard from him before. Yet you still shook your head, muttering a quiet, "I'm sorry".

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel acotar imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger

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ghostlychief · 1 year

Text

Weighted Blanket

This is part 2 to Pockets of Peace

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

Wc: 3.8k+ (First half is in Simon’s POV, second is reader’s POV)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of children being victims on a mission (nothing graphic), brief, BRIEF mentions of self harm (this part is italicized if you want to skip OR can read it as wounds from fights or missions; emotionally vulnerable reader and Simon; some fluff; some cuddling

Summary: After your last mission, things changed between you and Ghost. Although feelings shifted and emerged, your quiet routine with the Lieutenant stayed the same. He never failed to provide you with little pockets of peace throughout your tumultuous life, and you treasure these moments, holding them close to your heart. Except this time, it’s you who returns the favor, and offers him a warm embrace to grieve quietly.

A/N: HELLO! Part two to Pockets of Peace is finally here. I really can’t express my gratitude for all the love that fic received. I really appreciate all your likes, comments, and reblogs. Comments are always so fun to read and same goes for the reblog tags <3 This is another purely indulgent fic lmao and I found this part harder to write than the first, so I hope you enjoy it just as much. As mentioned, the first half is written from Simon’s POV, so that was fun to explore and write. Sorry for any typos/grammar mistakes </3

ENJOY!

Simon didn’t have much to be grateful for in his life. Sure, he was thankful for the camaraderie he found within task 141, and his friendship with Soap (although he will never admit that they’re true friends). Outside of those two things, there wasn’t much, and he was okay with that. Comes with the line of work, he supposed.

It’s hard to trust people when majority end up pointing their gun at you, even after years of working together, training together, living together. Hell, it took him years to feel somewhat comfortable around the task 141 members. When he first joined, he barely talked to anyone except when necessary either when preparing for a mission, or during a mission. Afterwards he would float off to his room and be alone. He ate alone, trained alone (unless sparing was required by Price), he went out alone. Not that he went out a lot, but if he had to leave the base, it was alone. He was somewhat of a recluse, a phantom hiding in the shadows that the team rarely ever saw.

The team member he first grew closest to, not without them trying, was Soap. The outgoing sergeant was able to make a friend out of the standoffish lieutenant, and even got Ghost to crack jokes during missions, a big deal for task force 141. This happened a little over a year and a half after Ghost joined the team. And now fast forward almost seven years later, and here he was, still on task force 141, but with a friend of sorts. That was one thing he was grateful for.

About two years in, he started to eat breakfast when the other team members did. Did he sit with them? No, of course not, but he was eating at the same time, just a few tables away. He started training with the other members more regularly, and on occasion, would coach them and give them tips here and there. And after a mission, he would sometimes tag along with the other men when they went out to a bar to wind down.

One night, shortly after you joined task 141, Ghost begrudgingly accepted Soap’s invite to go to a bar with the other male team members. Once they got there and had a few drinks, they were poking fun at him for having a “soft spot” for the new recruit.

He just rolled his eyes at their comments, and muttered “Fuck off,” up until they started talking about your skillset. Specifically, your lack of skills in sparing.

“Well, she certainly could improve her technique. We were sparing the other day, and I almost squashed her like a bug.”

“Yeah, she’s fast, but sure doesn’t know what to do with her speed and size. I pinned her down almost every time.”

“Yeah, last week, I had her in a headlock and almost made her pass out.”

“Hey Ghost, haven’t you been training with her? I’m sure you crush her each time you spar; she doesn’t have a chance against you.”

“Doubt she’s improved at all, even with Ghost’s help.”

Ghost couldn’t help but notice the frequent use of the word ‘almost,’ and at this point, he had enough. The comments the 141 members made weren’t even accurate. Sure, you had some improving to do, but by no means were you bad. He felt like they just felt threatened by you, a young woman with much more potential than them. He also had a feeling that they were jealous of your mastery at sniping. To put it simply, Ghost knew they were full of shit.

“She’s actually improved quite a lot.” His rough voice pierces through the air, silencing the banter surrounding him.

Embers burned at the pit of his stomach at the thoughtless comments his teammates said so flippantly about you. Embers that soon caught fire, and burned bright crimson flames. He stayed composed, but his eyes flickered, darkened by the shadows of the black paint surrounding them, and the tarnished skull that covered his nose and mouth. All the more imposing to those who looked at him.

“Plus, someone had to give her pointers for fighting a highly skilled, large, and imposing person; something you short fucks couldn’t do.”

Ghost was met with silence once again, and he smirked under his balaclava. Since then, the other men of task 141 have not commented on your sparing abilities, not wanting to be cursed out by Ghost.

And hey, it was all worth it when the next day you defeated Soap, match after match.

New recruits of 141 typically come and go, retention isn’t all that great. So, when you joined the team, he wasn’t expecting you to persevere, and stay. He was impressed by your skillset; snipers are always impressive in his mind. But your agility and speed that allowed you to take down opponents twice your size, is what mainly caught his eye. Sure, you needed some improvement, but you were promising.

When you first joined the team, you were so nice to everyone, even him. That’s not something he’s privy to in his line of work. Yet, you didn’t seem intimidated by him at all, not in the slightest. He didn’t have the slightest clue as to why. You just kept being so warm to him and he didn’t know what to do with that.

Of course, he wasn’t nervous to be around you, no that certainty wasn’t it; but he couldn’t help the warm feeling that would spread through his chest whenever you would talk to him. At first you only conversed with one another in meetings, debriefs, missions, etc. All work related, with no cross over into ‘personal life territory’. Simon was content with this, he rarely ever crossed that boundary with the other 141 teammates, so why would he with you? Incidentally, you and him started to get paired together mission after mission, and he couldn’t help but want more.

Ghost was immediately impressed at your abilities to smoothly get in and get out during missions, especially with what little experience you had. Not that you were any less competent than any of the other 141 team members, you just hadn’t been in the field for as long as some of them. You were smart as a whip though, and you got the job done quickly and quietly, and never got in his way. That was something he deeply respected about you. You understood the task at hand, asked questions if needed, but otherwise were highly independent. An admirable trait that takes some weight off of his shoulders as a Lieutenant. Something that he quickly added to his list of things he was grateful for.

You also had the curiosity to learn more, and to learn from the more experienced team members. Always ready with a question, and never embarrassed to ask. Sure, you were quiet like him, but when it came to job stuff, you didn’t hesitate to make your presence known.

He still remembers, one night after completing a mission, you and him were sitting in the helicopter. You turned to him and asked, “How is it that you’re never scared?” Your sweet voice traveled over to him through the coms and he felt confounded by your question. He felt his stomach warm at your tone in which you asked him this. Did you somehow look up to him?

“Who said I was never scared?” He glanced over at you and saw your eyes sparkle at his response.

To say that Ghost was concerned after you got shot in the leg was an understatement. Although he tried his best to stay composed, he was having a full-blown crisis inside his mind while trying to get you to safety, which, was a safe house miles from your current location. He couldn’t properly examine your wound, so he had no idea how bad of a state you were in, and he hated blind spots.

That was the first mission he ever felt real fear for you; distressed with thoughts that said you wouldn’t make it back. Thoughts that kept bouncing around, tormenting him the whole journey to the safe house. Luckily when you guys arrived, he was able to fully assess your wound and it didn’t look life threatening. No, all he had to do was clean, stich, and bandage it.

Simple enough, right? Wrong.

Of course, of course the best way to get the wound clean and ready for stitching was for your fucking pants to come off.

Things were never easy for Ghost.

His nerves didn’t stop him though and he somehow managed to get through everything without making a complete fool out of himself. Though, if you could somehow hear his heartbeat, at all, it would have been a dead giveaway, as it thumped erratically in his chest. There were moments when he was afraid it would burst.

Then, only to make this mission even worse, was him waking up to your blood curdling screams in the middle of the night. His first thought was that the enemy found you guys, and they got to you first. He thought that he failed to protect you, which was a silent promise he made to himself after the first night you guys drank beer in his room.

However, when he entered the living room, he saw that no one was in the room, it was just you on the couch where he left you. Your screams turned into cries, then sobs, then screams again. It was deafening and he couldn’t stand to hear it any longer. It took a few good shakes to wake you and he felt his heartstrings pinch in his chest when you apologized to him for waking him up, completely disregarding the trauma you were currently experiencing.

He decided right then and there that what you needed right now was not a work colleague, but a friend. He carried you to bed that night, hoping to provide you with some consolation, wanting to provide you with anything that would make you feel safe again. And before he even knew what he was doing, he found himself closing the distance between your lips, and he felt you kissing back. He may have added that to the list of things he felt grateful for.

It’s been a few weeks since then. Your leg is pretty much all healed, and you have full mobility. All thanks to Ghost’s handy work. Although you felt fine and ready to get back out there, Simon insisted that you continue to rest. He even managed to convince Price not to assign you to any missions for the next month, which thoroughly pissed you off.

Who was he to boss you around and tell you when you were ready or not to start working again? He was technically your direct supervisor, so he did have the power to boss you around, but still!

Even though you were slightly peeved at him, you knew that it came from a good place. He was just worried about you, and this was his way of showing it, well, in front of the team at least.

In private, he had other ways to show you how much he cared for you. After he learned about your nightmares, he insisted that you come to him whenever they occur. You were hesitant at first to take him up on his offer. What if he just said that to be nice and he just feels bad for me? You didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Even though, you found yourself slowly start to cross more and more boundaries with him as the weeks went on.

So, the first night you experienced another nightmare, you found yourself in front of Simon’s door. You probably stood there for at least a minute, racking up the courage to knock. But before you could even do that, the door swung open to reveal a sleepy looking Simon decked out in black sweats and his signature balaclava.

Since he was so close to you, you had to crane your neck to look up at him and meet his eyes. Why he was still wearing his mask at this hour, you were unsure. He usually took it off to sleep, but you were too unmoored to ask.

“I heard your footsteps approach my door.” His gravelly voice fills the space in-between, and he casually leans on the door frame.

“Oh.” You looked down at your slippers and twiddle your thumbs.

“Why don’t you come in, yeah?” Simon’s voice lifts up a bit at the end of his question, and you look back up at him and offer him a small smile.

“I’d like that, thank you Simon.” It still felt weird on your tongue to call the Lieutenant by his first name, but your chest sparked each time you did so. He held out is hand and you fit your palm against his, and he leads you into his room, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

You and Simon talked for what felt like hours before you fell asleep, head on his shoulder and his hand rubbing your head.

It was a common occurrence after that, to visit Simon’s room at night whenever you woke up screaming in the dark of your own room. It felt like nothing could happen to you in your dreams, so as long as Simon’s arms were wrapped around you, almost like an anchor. Weighing you down, preventing you from drifting too far away.

But even with this new sense of security surrounding you, some nights when you fell asleep with Simon next to you, the nightmares would still creep into your mind. Though, Simon was right there to help bring you back.

If for some reason you both separated during the night and were sleeping apart, you’d reach out to him after waking, your hand patting the bed, searching for him.

“Simon?”

“I’m right here.” He’d then swiftly pull you back into him.

He’d rub your back. Up down, up down.

Wrap his arms around you. Squeeze.

Kiss your forehead. Smooth back your hair.

Whisper affirming words that reminded you that it’s all in your head, you’re safe in this reality, he’s here. No one is trying to harm you.

Other nights, you found yourselves simply enjoying each other’s company. You love to outline his forearm tattoos with your fingers and trace your hand up his arm to his broad shoulders, to his chest. You like to trail your hand across his abs and just love to explore his whole body with your hands.

He does the same, and his touch always feels so heavenly. Though his hands were calloused and rough, they were always extra gentle in handling you.

His hand brushes over the top of your thigh and his fingertips graze over the slightly raised bumps that span across your tender skin. Your once smooth legs, now marked permanently with light lines. You feel his hand pause after it initially goes over this area of your leg. And you know, that he knows.

Before you can say anything, and push him away, his warm hand comes back up to rest at the top of your thigh, and his thumb gently traces circles over the scarred area. He doesn’t say a word, but his touches mean everything to you, and it’s all you need.

You feel him squeeze his arms that are already wrapped around your form, and feel a slight pressure against the top of your head, like a kiss was laid upon your hair.

You feel your breathing start to slow, and before you know it, you’re drifting off to sleep, the steady rhythm of Simon’s heart calling out to you like a siren with a lullaby.

You started to feel a deep sense of familiarity within the four walls of Simon’s room, and you knew that it would always be a place of condolement for your aching self. Little did you know, that you provided just as much relief, if not more, to Simon as well. Although more rare than yours, Simon had bad days too.

Tonight was no different than any other; you and Simon are lying in bed together and you’re semi-on top of him, leg thrown over his waist, head on his shoulder, fingers mapping out his entire being.

“If you want to talk about it, you know that you can, right?” You absentmindedly trace your pointer finger across the span of his chest as you ask him this. Drawing small circles into the fabric of his black t-shirt.

To Simon, it felt like there were small sparks leaving your fingertips every time you touched him, causing his heart to ignite.

“I’m always here to listen.” You remind him one more time.

Simon just came back from a particularly brutal mission, one that he has told you very little about. They were gone for almost two weeks and all you were able to find out from Soap was that children were involved- a sensitive subject for Simon. You can only imagine what he went through during the mission, and now, what he’s dealing with in the aftermath. You’re trying not to push too much, but you want him to talk to you.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know that. But you shouldn’t have to.”

You pause your ministrations and crane your neck to look up at him with a slight pout on your lips. This was always a struggle with him, he didn’t like to talk to you, let alone anyone when he was going through something. He would just put up a wall and it broke your heart. Sometimes you would get bits and pieces, but never the whole picture; it was always fuzzy to you.

You wanted him to feel safe enough that he could confide in you, vent to you, about whatever was on his mind, but you knew it wasn’t that easy and that these things take time. You’re patient with him, as he is with you. It’s the least you can owe him for all he’s done for you. This is his time to lament, not yours to be nosey. So, you just let him be.

He lets out a sigh and then moves you so you’re laying completely on top of him. He tries not to be too rough as his hands grab onto your waist to situate you further, and he tucks your head under his chin.

One arm wraps around your middle and the other comes up to hold the back of your head.

“I just want you to be here with me right now, like this. That’s all I need.” His breath tickles your hair and you succumb to his wish, relaxing against him.

“Ok, I can do that.” Your hands come up to wrap around his neck, and you pull him impossibly closer to you, no inch of yourself is left untouched by Simon.

He likes to put you in this position whenever he can’t find the right words to explain. He instead craves the comfort of physicality, liking the weight of you on top of him.

Your hand comes up to play with his hair at the nape of his neck. You found that his hair tends to curl a little at the end, initially not expecting his hair to be this long. Silly, you know, but you’re honored that you’re one of the few people that get to see him like this.

You don’t know how long you and Simon lay like this; time always seemed to bend and disappear when you were with him. Since you guys had been lying in silence for so long, his voice startles you when he speaks for the first time in what felt like hours.

His hand that was resting on your lower back is now softly stroking your spine in a steady up and down motion.

“I felt scared for the first time in a while, on the last mission.”

His admission surprises you, but you wait a beat to see if he’s going to say anything else before you respond.

You’re glad that you do, because he continues to speak in a hushed voice.

“I- I didn’t know how to help them and they were looking towards us to be saved. And yet, we couldn’t save all of them. Some were left behind.”

You feel your heart start to crack again, the beginnings of the break started forming the moment you saw Simon step out of the plane when he returned back to the base.

And now it feels as though a chisel is working its way through your chest, chipping off piece by piece as you listen to Simon morn the loss of little lives. Lives he couldn’t rescue. You know it’s eating him up on the inside, with no respite in sight.

You personally have never been on a mission where the victims were children, and you’re thankful for that, so you can only empathize as much as your experience allows you to. You just have to remind him that he does the best he can, and not everyone can be saved, no matter how much you want to help.

You shift a little so your head is no longer tucked under his chin, and instead rests more on his shoulder. Since you’re so close to him, your lips touch is jaw.

You sigh, “I’m really sorry you went through that, Simon. I know that nothing I can say will change the outcome of what happened, and it doesn’t really matter what I say, but I do want you to know that you and the team did all you could. You did your best with what circumstances you were given.”

You feel him stir under you, and his arms warp tighter around your frame.

“You’re wrong.”

You feel you the pieces of your heart break into smaller and smaller pieces, losing hope that they will ever fit back together.

“You’re wrong to think that your words don’t matter.” Oh. “They actually mean the most to me.” Your chest doesn’t feel like it’s going to concave anymore.

“I really appreciate you; you know that right, Little Swan?” You feel him kiss your forehead and your chest warms at his term of endearment.

“Of course I do, Simon.”

“Ok, good.”

You bring him in for a kiss.

Simon found that he didn’t have much in his life, let alone much to be grateful for. Yet over the years, he realized that he grew quite the list.

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stealingyourbones · 1 year

Note

I don’t really know if this is a prompt or whatever, but worth considering:

Phantom is likely seen as a very old being due to time travel shenanigans, but in the present day, he has a tendency to mention family members, especially “his sister” in the present tense. This doesn’t happen often, especially not around established heroes, but when he does let it slip around a member of the Justice League (be they friend or foe at this point, who knows), it sends them on a wild goose chase to find Phantom’s sister and determine her abilities. This goes one of two ways, because it could theoretically lead back to two different people.

Maybe it goes the easier way, and a JL member ends up stumbling across Dani on her travels. She’s got a very similar power set but is more of a free spirit (pun intended), so it’d make sense that she’s not tied down to a particular place. Of course, as the sister of a being thousands of years old, she’d be seen as quite old herself, and it’d be very easier for her to kill the illusion in a heartbeat.

However, I think it’d be a lot more intriguing if Danny’s statements somehow led back to Jazz, the towering redhead with superhuman strength (thanks to her liminality), exceptional fighting ability (thanks to martial arts from her mother and swordsmanship lessons from Pandora), and strong sense of justice and wisdom (due to her time spent analyzing the brain and working as part of a vigilante group).

Everything about Jazz would line up perfectly with her being an Amazon, and depending on when Wonder Woman left Themyscira, Jazz could be seen as an Amazon from before Diana’s time, possibly thousands of years old like Phantom.

That, of course, would lead to its own can of worms. How in the world are a long escaped Amazon and one of the leading representatives of the dead related? If they’re a found family, when did they meet? Otherwise, how is a male biologically related to one of the Amazons?

Ironically, Jazz would probably be much better at making herself seem Old than Danny would.

Bonus points if the League actually gets the chance to compare Danny and Jazz side by side. Phantom himself isn’t exactly small, not anymore, but Jasmine towers over him, every inch of seven feet tall. His big sister, indeed.

:0 oh man this is sick. How on earth does Danny's siblings break it to the JL that they aren't immortal? OR

What do they do to keep the misconception going to protect how young Danny truly is?

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny phantom #bones replies #zattis

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mewnekoice-mecha · 1 year

Text

DP x DC

Part 2 of Idol!Danny

Quick summary: Danny is performing in Gotham, the bat boys & girls go see it. Que Simps Damian and Tim

Here’s Danny’s outfit as always

*knock**knock*

“Phantom ,your on in 5 ok”,said the manger for this event, “Please head to the stage, we’re ready”.

“Ok, I’m on my way,” came a light male voice with a soft undertone that didn’t seem human. The male in question was none other then teen idol and meta sensation PHANTOM or in his dimension Danny Fenton, a teen with glowing white hair that constantly shifts like it’s underwater, eyes that glow a bright neon green, small fangs that fill a faerie like face, his entire appearance screams supernatural. That’s not the only reason he’s so popular, but we’ll see why later.

At the moment he was about to do one of his biggest concerts to date in the city of crime itself Gotham City, Home of the Bat and His Birds. Doing one last check to make sure his outfit and makeup was perfect, Phantom left his room and headed to the main area in the arena that he will be singing in, in just a few minutes.

Taking a breath Danny shook himself and grabbed the headset that was handed to him, as the workers fitted around him doing last minute checks before he goes on. Eyes flashing brighter then ever, a smirk came across his face as he felt Lady Gotham’s Knights had decided to join his little concert, now he HAS to make this a performance worth remembering.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, YOU KNOW HIM YOU LOVE HIM, PLEASE WELCOME PHANTOM!!!!”

Time to knock ‘‘em dead Fenton

*Jason’s POV *

‘I can’t believe Cass and Steph, dragged us to a concert for some lame meta twink singer, I could be sleeping or shooting at assholes right now buutt nooo I gotta be here with demon brat, replacement and dickie as well’ I thought as we grabbed our seats. Steph and surprisingly Cass have been raving nonstop about some meta singer that popped up a year ago. Apparently he’s been taking the music scene by storm and he’s already won awards for his music despite his young age, I can’t help but Amit I’m a little curious about him as it’s almost unheard of for a meta to be so open about they’re powers like he is. As soon as I thought that, the announcement to welcome the kid who’s stage name is apparently Phantom came on, guess I’ll see what’s the fuss about ,when QUIETNESS and Darkness greeted me.

*Danny’s POV*

After my announcement came, i floated invisible and intangible to the center stage, then I grabbed on my core and PULLED all the light to me so there was only Darkness, that’s when the music started and I began to SING

🎶Better-Arc North, Rival🎶

I slowly became visible as I sung a bright spot in total darkness

“Like we’re underwater

Can’t hear nothing

You’ve been casting a spell

I’m all yours now

Yeah, you’ve been

Fillin the space upon my mind”

I floated slowly around the stage like I was looking or daydreaming about someone, a dazed/happy expression on my face

“And tell me everything

Both the good and bad

Cause whatever you tell me

I will still like everything that I see

Cause nothing feels better then us

I’m so high can’t get down

No nothing feels better than when I’m with you”

Moving closer to the edge of the stage I could see and hear the dazed, blushing faces of my fans screams and cries of I love you and Phantom filled the air, it was almost time to dazzle my little specters

“My future is buried in your eyes

I got so much to say and I won’t lie

Nothing feels better than you”

As soon as the bass started to drop Releasing my hold on my core, the entire arena became a NEBULA with me as its center, bright blues and purples filled the arena as shooting stars shot behind me

“Nothing feels better than this

No nothing feels better than this”

Looking at the faces of my fans I could spot some shocked faces in the front row, and low and behold it was Lady Gotham’s birds. Creeping closer I leaned close to one of them a male with shocking blue-gray eyes and smelling a bit like coffee I sang my next part

“Let me be your safe place

If the sky would open

I’m making sure that you stay dry

In the greatest of storms

I’ll be your light”

Leaving him slacked jawed with a pretty blush I moved on to the next bird closest to me which happened to be the one with pretty green eyes and gorgeous Arabic tan I’ve ever seen, he was scowling but had a light blush that was unnoticeable to untrained eyes, taking a clawed finger I lightly brushed against his face not quite touching but still noticeable

“And they can’t tell me nothing

That will make a difference

Since I got everything I need in you

I’m invincible I believe”

He was staring wide eyed at me like he couldn’t even believe I was talking er singing to him, moving back to the stage I started using my ecto-ice to make a light mist that cause the nebula around me to sparkle as I air danced

“Cause nothing feels better

Than us

I’m so high I can’t get down

No nothing feels better

Than when I’m with you

My future is buried in your eyes

I got so much to say and I won’t lie”

Bringing my hands in front of me I slammed them together creating a would be universe around me with a shadowy figure reaching a hand out toward me for me to take, reaching for the hand I grasped it and pulled it towards me as the shadows peeled away from the figure showing a gothic loli teen with a bat choker on and golden eyes

“Nothing feels better than you

Nothing feels better than this

My future is buried in your eyes

I got so much to say and I wont lie

Nothing feels better than you”

Ending the song on that note I hugged Gotham as a thanks for letting me use her as a stand in.

But as for her knight’s I had no way of knowing just how true my song would become for me and them

@skulld3mort-1fan @kawaiikenna @xye-chan

as always this is an open prompt so if u like the prompt you can borrow it or make a story out of it all I ask is just a mention of where it came from

#dc x dp prompt #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc au #dp x dc #idol!danny #ghost king danny #danny fenton #danny phantom #danny x tim #danny x damian #dead serious #brain dead

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ghostieboi1 · 6 months

Text

Lost Family Member

Copia x Male!Reader & Ghouls

Genre: SFW, angst, hurt, very little comfort

Summary: Copia and Male!Reader have been dating for a long time, the ghouls consider them parents even. The couple start talking seriously about settling down and even Copia retiring before he leaves for the last part of his tour, only to come back and have his dreams shattered.

Characters: Copia, Swiss, Sodo, Rain, Cirrus, Phantom, Aurora, Aether, Cumulus, Sunshine, Rain, Mountain, Phil (special guest for a special ghoul), Sister Imperator, Secondo, Terzo, Primo

Warnings: Death, major hurt, mentions of drugs that result in death, very little comfort, Sister Imperator and Phil (they deserve their own warnings for this one)

A/N: This one has been on my mind a bit because I wanted to write something sad but I'll admit, this kinda wasn't what I expected. This is also Sister Imperator's continuation of whatever her idea was with killing the three Emeritus brothers but taking it more personal, and I may have accidentally given her toxic mother in law vibes. I also cried while writing this so... GOOD LUCK!

Copia and you had been staying in bed all day, it was his short break in between doing his Europe tour and his USA tour. He didn't wanna do much and since most of his responsibilities were taken off his shoulders until the actual end of tour, he decided to just relax when he could.

You kept falling asleep and waking up randomly, your body had gotten plenty of enough sleep but the comfort both the bed and being cuddled by Copia made you sleepy. Neither of you got up other than using the bathroom or to get something to eat or drink, and neither of you planned on getting up today.

It was his last day before he had to catch a plan to head to the USA to finish up his tour, he wasn't gonna waste his time on something that demanded his attention and wanted his last day of break to be a relaxing one. He voiced his nervousness to you a few times, but that was all he would say when talking about the tour.

The day felt like it ended too soon as the night rolled in and Copia finally gave up on trying to stay awake and fell asleep for the night, you remained awake for a bit longer and cuddled him, hoping he'd sleep better so he was well rested enough to make his flight. Eventually, you fell asleep as well, your arms wrapped around his waist. You woke up the next day to an empty bed but a note was on Copia's pillow, you woke up a bit more before you read the note.

"Dear amore, I'm sorry we weren't able to say our farewells in person before I left but I couldn't disturb you when you were sleeping. As usual, I left behind one of my red jackets for you as you asked me to last time I went away. This tour will end up being a bit longer than last time but I assure you that I will be home eventually, and then we can start just being a family. All my love, Copia."

You couldn't help but smile while reading the letter, you sighed as you put the letter on your bedside table before deciding how you were going to spend your day today. Mostly you would either stay on yours and Copia's room doing whatever until he got back or you would go in about your day like normal, but since he was gonna be gone for a while, you could alternate between both.

The Ministry was very quiet without Copia and his ghouls, the Ministry was always a little bit quiet but it was eerily quiet without them. Copia always managed to call you after every ritual and check up on how you're doing, it was very sweet and sometimes he'd even fall asleep while on call. After a call with him after the LA show, you tried falling asleep.

Falling asleep without Copia was a bit hard for you, but you managed. You rolled over in your bed, now facing the door. Your eyes opened a bit and you saw a figure standing in the doorway, you didn't know who it was until the silhouette had a tail, now you knew it was a ghoul.

You didn't move, afraid to. The figure wasn't moving, just staring. You had always felt a bit vulnerable when Copia and the ghouls weren't around but now you really wished you had taken Copia's offer when he suggested that you join the tour with them.

The ghoul finally took a step closer, your heart pounding loudly in your chest. You tried to see if they were holding something but the darkness in the room made it hard to see anything, the lava lamp Copia bought giving very little light. You wanted to scream for help but you knew that sound didn't travel as fast as you would've needed it to in the Ministry and whoever this was would jump on you as soon as you made noise.

When the ghoul finally got close enough to you, you saw him holding a syringe. You didn't dare to question what was inside of it but you knew it wasn't good, that was when he tried to touch you. A small fight broke out between you two, you managed to knock the syringe out of his hand and it rolled away towards the bedroom door. The fight wasn't anything major other than you fighting for your life, you just needed to fend him off long enough for you to be able to run out of the room and to a dorm of siblings.

The ghoul managed to over-power you and someone rolled the syringe back to the ghoul, you weren't able to see them right away since you were panicking as the ghoul stuck the needle into your next and injected whatever liquid was in the syringe. The ghoul got off of you but you felt weak from both fighting and from whatever was just put into you.

You managed to roll onto your stomach and see who helped him, your eyes widened as Sister Imperator was ushering the ghoul out of the room. You tried to sit up but nothing was strong enough to keep you lifted long enough.

"Sister?" You managed to rasp out, catching her attention. "Why?"

She sighed before looking back at you. "I'm just doing what is best for the Clergy." Imperator simply stated before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

Copia grew worried his last couple show nights, you weren't answering his calls or texts. His ghouls noticed this and when they found out why he was so anxious, they talked to Aether and Sunshine, they still lived in the Ministry despite Sister Imperator wanting them gone.

Sunshine confirmed that she hadn't seen you in a while but thought you were just taking the relaxing time to yourself. Aether admitted to thinking that originally too but said that when he passed Copia's room yesterday, it felt too quiet. The ghouls decided not to tell Copia about anything the other two told them because it would've made him more anxious and try to cancel the rest of the shows just so he could come back home and see what was wrong.

Finally, the flight back home felt way longer than necessary due to everyone's anxiety about you. Copia honestly didn't know what to expect but he just hoped that you were okay, at least enough so he could be with you until further notice. What all of them didn't know was that Aether's feelings about this intensified and needed to know the answers, so on the day of their arrival, Aether went to Copia's room.

Upon initial arrival, Aether didn't notice anything that gave him info on your status. He gently knocked on the door, waiting for you to respond. When nothing came, he knocked again.

"Hey, it's Aether. You doing okay in there? Copia and the ghouls are coming back today." Aether called out, waiting for anything.

Nothing.

Aether gathered up the courage to open the door, he peeked inside the room before he noticed you on the ground, motionless. His heart dropped and he immediately was by your side, he shook your body and repeated your name, trying to get you to wake up. Finally he gave up and picked you up before bolting to the hospital wing, his mind was trying to think the worst but all he wanted to focus on right now was making sure you were okay.

Sunshine had sent him a text shortly after the doctors took you away, asking if everything was okay. Aether responded simply by texting.

"Wait by the main door. When they get here, lead them to the hospital wing."

Sunshine decided not to question and followed Aether's instructions, she ran the the main door and waited impatiently for the others to show up. When Copia and the other ghouls finally got there, she quickly told them all to just leave their luggage and to follow her. It was about you.

That was all that it took for Copia to follow very closely behind Sunshine, hoping his greatest fear didn't come true. Aether was pacing the waiting room and talked with them for a bit, telling all of them what he saw before a doctor came up to them.

"Is he okay?" Copia asked, his voice trembling a bit.

The doctor hesitated to respond, seeing as this was tearing all of them up inside. Finally he sighed before saying, "I'm sorry."

That was all it took for all of them. No one could help the tears that spilled out from their eyes. Copia was the first one to gather himself enough to further ask questions.

"What was the cause?" Copia asked, his voice laced in pain.

"We still don't know yet. We'll have to do an autopsy to pinpoint what it was." Silence was met with the doctor's answer. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

The doctor left, all of them had tears staining their faces. After a brief moment of silence, Sister Imperator walked into the hospital wing and saw them all standing there. She decided to wait until Copia came crawling to her to even touch the topic of your death, she quietly and quickly left the area and retreated back to her office.

The Saltarian, however, noticed this and decided to help them settle back home. He carried all their luggage back to their rooms without complaining and even showed some sympathy to Copia.

It wasn't even a full day since they got back and everyone was quiet, word spread throughout the Ministry and now everyone knew. You had been a part of a lot of peoples lives in the Ministry and you were well loved by everyone, some even claimed to say they wished you were their guardian of sorts. All of these words of mourn and condolences flooded Copia's and the ghouls' ears, they were the closest to you after-all.

Copia talked sternly about having a proper funeral for you with Sister Imperator, who originally believed you didn't need one. As soon as Copia was allowed to hold the funeral, he set everything up. When it came to knowing who you were both as a Brother of Sin and who you were prior to the Ministry, Copia knew everything. He spent hours picking photos you would've wanted on display for the funeral and picked all the flowers out, remembering the specific flower you liked. Ironically, Primo's old garden, that's now taken care of by Mountain, had just enough of the right flowers for this event.

The day of the funeral finally came, no one had a dry eye. Copia tried his best not to cry too much since he needed to be semi-professional and because he didn't want to smudge his Papal paints. Copia had hoped the first time he'd hold something for you within the church would be yours and his wedding, not your funeral. All the ghouls didn't wear their masks, it was a well known secret you had that you preferred the ghouls maskless and they wanted to keep to your wishes.

Sister Imperator didn't show up, but Copia didn't care. She had started becoming bitter to you once you and Copia started talking about marriage, this pissed Copia off beyond anyone's expectations. A short piano version of the song "Life Eternal" was played by Cumulus, she gently hit some wrong notes by accident but it didn't take a rocket scientist to simply glance over and see her eyes filled with tears.

Copia did the first speech, he had two, one as Papa Emeritus IV and one as Copia Emeritus. Some ghouls and some siblings held some speeches as well, Swiss' ended up being the second most gut punching speech besides Copia's. Swiss basically saw you as a parent, that you and Copia were his dads. Most of the other ghouls felt that way too but Swiss spent more time around you, he was clearly in pain by your untimely death.

It was one of your wishes to be cremated when you died, no one knew it would happen so soon but they all agreed to give you what you wanted. The funeral ended and then you were taken away to become ash, everyone mostly just went into their rooms to let out the rest of their feelings or to break the barrier that held during the whole event. At least, that's what all the ghouls did.

Swiss screamed into his pillow, Sodo almost broke his desk, Rain drew a bath for himself and refused to leave it, Mountain curled himself up into a ball and couldn't stop crying, Cirrus felt too numb to do anything, Cumulus kept being reminded of you.

The new ghouls, Phantom and Aurora didn't know how to handle these strong emotions. Phantom went to Aether for help, to which Aether calmed him down and said, "Sometimes it's okay to just feel things and not talk." Aether then proceeded to hold Phantom through the night. Aurora went to Sunshine, she couldn't talk but couldn't control her sobbing. All she was able to get out was, "I miss him." Sunshine broke down with Aurora and they just held each other.

Copia wasn't handling this any better. By now, he's gone through almost all the stages of grief but now his stuck on acceptance. He still didn't know the cause of your death, until two days after your funeral, the autopsy report was sent to him via email. You were drugged... just like his brothers.

After printing out the email, Copia marched his way to Sister Imperator's room. He barged into her office and demanded answers, she questioned why he went after her first, to which he laid down plenty of explanations that were all valid. Before she could ask anything else, he slammed the printed paper down in front of her and demanded to know what was happening. She remained silent for a bit before say how her intentions were good, causing Copia to laugh like he was losing his mind.

"What makes you think killing has good intention?!" Copia shouted, his eyes boring into Imperator's.

"We shouldn't be fighting over this." Imperator tried to excuse, but Copia wasn't having it.

"No! I want to know what the fuck happened to him while I was gone!" Copia demanded, this was the only time she's ever seen him get this mad.

"I just wanted you to continue the bloodline." Imperator admitted, she knew that he wasn't going to take this well.

Copia went silent, letting what she just said sink you. "You killed him in hopes I'd fuck around with a girl like my father?!" Copia asked, his voice starting soft but got louder at the end.

"Not exactly!" Imperator tried to justify, but to no avail.

"That was why you hated him! Hate to break it to you, but I was going to do the responsible thing and lay low and start an actual family with him. Maybe then I would've been able to do something I was proud of, not something I was forced to do." Copia explained, his heart completely shattering.

Imperator was at a loss for words, she knew that if word got out, she'd be hunted like a monster by the whole church. After Copia asked if she had anything else to fess up to and no response from Imperator, he left. He went back to his room and let everything go, all his rage, all his pain, and even his faith. The ghouls heard to commotion and went to check on him after it died down.

They found him sitting on his bed, his head in his hands as the room looked like a tornado just went through it. Swiss was the first to his side, making sure he didn't physically hurt himself both on accident or on purpose. Aether asked what was wrong and Copia explained, not holding the truth back. Now all the ghouls hated Imperator, and when the ghouls hated you, they didn't hide it.

"I need to speak with him." You said urgently, not paying any mind to the alive people around you.

"He already knows." Secondo's voice booms in the halls, louder than you expected.

You froze, tears brimming your eyes. Since your death, the three brothers have been helping you adjust. They had been here all this time but no one could see them, their coffins had been warded so their ghosts couldn't be seen. Your vase or box must've been similarly warded.

"Besides, regardless of what you do, nothing will work. We've all tried communicating with him." Terzo added, he had been one of the first dead Papa's to try and reconnect to the living.

"This isn't fair." You muttered, now staring at your hands that were a light shade of blue and a bit see through.

"Nothing will ever be fair—" Primo tried to comfort, but it didn't work.

"No, you don't understand. We were going to get married after he got back. He promised me, he even bought a ring when he was in America, he showed me one that he was thinking about." You explained, the tears left your eyes but didn't go anywhere else.

The three all looked saddened by this, silence filled the room you were in. They had overheard from the afterlife that you and Copia were talking about settling down but they weren't aware that plans had been set in stone.

"I at least have to see him, I need to know he's okay." You muttered, all three of them quickly glanced at each other before nodding.

"You can stay next to him for as long as you need to, he won't know you're there, but if you're lucky enough, he might feel your presence." Terzo explained, he wanted to give you as much information about being a ghost as he could.

You thanked them before running to try and find him, you figured he'd be in his bedroom, and he was. He was now laying in the bed, staring at the ceiling. He laid on his side, almost as if expecting you to be beside him. You started to slowly approach him, not sure what to do. Copia reached into his pocket and pulled out a box, the engagement ring he bought inside it. You sighed a bit before getting in bed beside him, you hesitated cuddling into him but decided to say fuck it and go for it.

Copia tensed before he relaxed and huffed a laugh. "Hello, amore." Copia muttered, he knew you were there.

You stared at him in shock before chuckling to yourself and resting your head on his shoulder again. "Hey, handsome."

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yaekiss · 7 months

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#Mailroom Open! Love letter from @kaeyaksha:

hii, i’d like to have a love letter delivered to yan Kaeya A. and get a nsfw reply back! he/him pronouns and i have no preference for nicknames. the contents of the letter read:

“To the moon that shines my nights,

It’s been dreadfully long since i’ve been able to delight in your company and i’m afraid your absence will eventually cause me to lose my mind. Every morning I open my eyes and hope to lay beside you so I can admire your heavenly smile, my hands’ only purpose was to hold your face so I can worship it unceasingly, and now that you’re away I find no use for them. My concern for my sanity grows since last morning when I mistook you for one of the guards on duty and almost threw myself at him in a fit of madness.

In my depravation of my dear moon i’ve found myself gazing at the satellite in our sky in hopes that it’ll cure my longing, but my efforts were in vain for not the moon and the stars in the night sky can compare to the light in your eyes.

I can only hope your business in Sumeru concludes soon so that I can fall back into your arms once again.

From your yearning and anguished lover, who can’t phantom the idea of a single day going by without you lips on mine.”

There’s also a dark blue box smelling of lavender, inside there’s a bottle of wine with a ribbon attached to it and a pair of pearl dangly earrings.

(The envelope is stained with numerous lipsticks kisses and contains a printed picture:)

꩜ Letter Content: Dom! Male! Reader x Yan! Sub! Kaeya, reader referred to as "boyfriend", Kaeya calls you "my sun", mentions of alcohol, unhealthy obsessive and possessive relationship from Kaeya, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: Your letter to him almost got lost amidst all the mail but fret not! It's safely delivered to him ^^! I heard he recently sent another letter from Sumeru to Mondstadt using another mailing system with express delivery, wonder what that's all about... ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

Kaeya’s parcel is dropped off at your doorstep by the time you get home. It’s a simple gift box and atop it, sits a stunning peacock teal ribbon. A firm tug on one end of the ribbon unties it and allows you to remove the lid of the box.

Inside the box, are the different gifts and souvenirs Kaeya has lovingly prepared for you while he’s been away. There’s a picture frame tucked to a side, of which contains a photograph of him and Klee donning marvellous new outfits. He’s carrying Klee on his shoulders as the bright sunlight streams in from the trees behind them but it’s nothing compared to the blinding grin on their faces. Scribbled on the back of the frame in red crayon is an adorable “We miss you! :D”, no doubt from Klee.

Setting the picture frame down in its rightful position in your home, you continue going through the box. Included is also a considerable variety of regional snacks and bottled drinks from Sumeru that he thought you might like.

And finally, tucked at the bottom of the parcel, is an envelope containing Kaeya’s reply. The envelope is plain and unassuming, save for a lipstick stain at the back, right in the middle where the tip of the cover flap kisses the envelope. Opening it up, you fish out the parchment tucked inside.

The paper is lightly perfumed, a familiar scent that you’ve found yourself missing these few weeks with Kaeya away. His handwriting is relaxed and leisurely, and there are a couple tiny hearts doodled in the margins of the letter. His letter reads:

“To the sun that lights my days,

Ah, how I've missed calling you that, I feel like I've been gone for way too long! You've been on my mind so much lately, my dearest sun, I fear you might not be the only one to lose your sanity.

Truly, it feels like an essential part of my being has been ripped from me. Without you around, I've grown somewhat restless. I can no longer sleep as well as I usually do when I have you by my side. The warmth from you next to me has become so necessary for me to have a good night's rest. If I look lethargic when I return to you, please don't tease me too much, my sun. :(

I've also found myself, unfortunately, rather pent up. It seems that I've grown addicted to the pleasure, the salvation, only you can bring to me. When I think about your lips on mine, fantasise about your fingertips tracing down my sides as you whisper all the things you want to do to me in my ear, I get so terribly lovesick, you can't even begin to imagine it, my sun.

I desperately crave you, to worship every inch of you, to just be close to you. You have me dedicated entirely to you, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Which is why my heart nearly stopped when you said that you had mistaken a guard for me and almost thrown yourself at him.

(This part of the letter seemingly has been written with more force, the paper is a little wrinkled, almost tearing towards the end of the paragraph.) Now, my dearest sun, I wouldn't want you to think of me as someone overly jealous or possessive, but the thought of another individual receiving your romantic affections has me... I would tear the heavens asunder just for a mere touch from you, my sun. After all, what use are the gods to a sinner who has found utter paradise in his lover?

Perhaps we need to spend more intimate time together, so you can etch every part of my body into your memory. And if you felt generous enough, you could even mark me up, stake your claim on me so that everyone will know that you have me as your moon. <3

By the way! Thank you for the wine, you know just how to cheer a lovelorn cavalry captain right up. The flavour is lovely, just like you ;), and I wish I had you here to appreciate it with. Oh! I tried on the pearl earrings too and Klee said they looked nice on me, and I have you to thank for that as well. We really should get more matching jewellery, how about it, my sun?

Alright, I've gone on long enough for this letter. If you want more, you'll just have to write to me again, my dearest sun. Don't make me wait too long though, I might lose my mind!

Your ever-infatuated moon,

- Kaeya Alberich -

P.S. I chuckled at the picture you sent me, but I think we both know that it's your name I'll be screaming and moaning when I finally return to your side ;)”

It's a nice touching letter to receive from your beloved, save for that one more... concerning part. You rest the letter in your lap as you think back to the incident with the poor guard. Even though you had managed to stop yourself from hugging him, he was caught unawares at your sudden movements.

Apologising, you explain that he just reminded you of your lover away in Sumeru. However, all you received in return was an expression of shock as he looked away and shakily muttered something under his breath, “Captain Kaeya’s… boyfriend…”

These few days you can’t help but notice that the guard has been more tense when you’re around, keeping his eyes trained right ahead, never once looking directly at you.

You can’t help but wonder if it had anything to do with your Kaeya.

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

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azsazz · 1 year

Text

Bloody Knuckles and the Songs of Death (Part 4)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader is everything that Azriel is not. Opposite feelings but equal death in the end.

AKA: Half a rewrite of chapters 43-47 of ACOWAR where reader is now there as part of the Autumn Court, excited to meet Azriel. The other half are my own ideas.

Warnings: Major themes of death, ACOWAR spoilers, blood, gore, mentions of abuse, smut.

Word Count: 1,621

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part 3)

_________________________________________

Beron shields barely fast enough to block Feyre, but the wake singes Eris’ arm–right through the thick, emerald cloth. And the pale, lovely arm of Amaretto.

The others shout, shooting to their feet, but Feyre isn’t stopping yet. Her point hasn’t been made, and her wild gray eyes are consumed by the inferno she’s wielding at the flame master himself.

She stands, instead sending a wave of water from the reflection pool to encircle Beron and his chair. A bubble without air.

Flame pounds against it, turning water to steam, but she pushes harder.

She looks like she might kill him, and although you’re slightly disappointed it’s not the shadowsinger to take his life, you’re very happy at the sight before you.

Beron’s flame barrier slams into her water one, hard enough that ripples begin to form, steam hissing amongst them.

She bares her teeth and sends a fist of white light punching into that fiery shield–the white light of Day. Spell-breaker. Ward-cleaver.

Beron’s eyes widen as his shields begin to fray. As that water pushes in.

You shift onto the edge of your seat, eager eyes unable to look away. The taste of his panic is sweet on your tongue.

Rhysand stands before her, capturing her face in his soft hands. “You’ve proved your point, my love,” he says to her. “Kill him, and horrible Eris will take his place.”

She doesn’t say anything aloud but he answers her as if she had.

“As interesting an experiment as that might be,” Rhys croons, “It would only complicate the matters at hand.”

It’s silent for a long few heartbeats.

And then she lets go of her magic.

Beron’s flames explode like an unfurling flower–and bounce harmlessly off of the shield Rhys had thrown around them.

Not to shield against Beron.

The other High Lords are now on their feet.

“That was how you got through my wards,” Tarquin murmurs.

Beron’s panting so hard he looks like he might spew lava. His heated gaze turns on you in a silent command to kill them all, right here and now, but you’re too busy watching what the others are saying.

Helion rubs his jaw as he sits down once more. “I wondered where it went–that little bit. So small–like a fish missing a single scale. But I still felt whenever something brushed against that empty spot.” A smirk at Rhys. “No wonder you made her High Lady.”

“I made her High Lady,” Rhys says simply, lowering his hands from Feyre’s face but not leaving her side, “Because I love her. Her power was the last thing I considered.”

Helion asks Tamlin, “You knew of her powers?”

Tamlin only watches Feyre and Rhys, his declaration hanging between them. “It was none of your business,” is all Tamlin says to Helion. To everyone.

“The power belongs to us. I think it is,” Beron seethes.

Mor levels a look at Beron that would send lesser males running.

The Lady of Autumn is clutching her arm, angry red splattered along her moon-white skin. No glimmer of pain on that face, though. Feyre says as she reclaims her seat, “I’m sorry.”

Amarettos eyes lift towards her gray ones, round as saucers.

Beron spits, “Don’t talk to her, you human filth.”

Rhys shatters through Beron’s shield, his fire, his defenses.

Shatters through them like a stone hurled into a window, and slams his dark power into Beron so hard he rocks back in his seat. Then that seat disintegrates into black, sparkling dust beneath him.

Leaving Beron to fall on his ass.

You truly do like the Night Court.

Glittering ebony dust drifts away on a phantom wind, staining Beron’s crimson jacket, clinging like clumps of ash to his brown hair.

“Don’t ever,” Rhys says, hands sliding into his pockets, “speak to my mate like that again.”

Beron shoots to his feet, not bothering to brush off the dust, and declares to no one in particular, “This meeting is over. I hope Hybern butchers you all.”

But Nesta rises from her chair. “This meeting is not over.”

Even Beron pauses at her tone. Eris sizes up the space between Nesta Archeron and his father.

She stands tall, a pillar of steel. “You are all there is,” she says to Beron, to all of us. “You are all that there is between Hybern and the end of everything that is good and decent.” She settles her stare on the High Lord of Autumn, unflinching and fierce. “You fought against Hybern in the last war. Why do you refuse to do so now?”

Beron does not deign to answer. But he does not leave. Eris subtly motions his brothers to sit.

Nesta marks his gesture–hesitating. As if realizing she indeed holds their complete attention. That every word matters. “You may hate us. I don’t care if you do. But I do care if you let innocents suffer and die. At least stand for them. Your people. For Hybern will make an example of them. Of all of us.”

“And you know this how?” Beron sneers.

“I went into the Cauldron,” Nesta says flatly. “It showed me his heart. He will bring down the wall, and butcher those on either side of it.”

Truth or lie, you can’t tell. Nesta’s face reveals nothing. And no one dares to contradict her.

She looks to Kallias and Viviane. “I am sorry for the loss of those children. The loss of one is abhorrent.” She shakes her head. “But beneath the wall, I witness children–entire families–starve to death.” She jerks her chin at her sister. “Were it not for my sister…I would be among them.”

“Too long,” she continues. “For too long have humans beneath the wall suffered and died while you in Prythian thrived. Not during that–queen’s reign.” She recoils, as if hating to even speak Amarantha’s name. “But long before. If you fight for anything–fight now, to protect those you forgot. Let them know they’re not forgotten. Just this once.”

Thesean clears his throat. “While a noble statement, the details of the Treaty did not demand we provide for our human neighbors. They were to be left alone. So we obeyed.”

Nesta remains standing. “The past is the past. What I care about is the road ahead. What I care about is making sure no children–Fae or human–are harmed. You have been entrusted with protecting this land.” She scans the faces around her. “How can you not fight for it?”

She looks to Beron and his family as she finishes. Only the Lady and Eris seem to be considering–impressed, even, by the strange, simmering woman before them.

Beron only says, “I shall consider it.” A look at his wife and sons, and they vanish, leaving you and Eris in their wake.

Eris is the last to winnow, something conflicting dancing over his face, as if this was not the outcome he’d planned for. Expected.

The look he gives you is an order. One that has your stomach twisting with both excitement and nerves. He knows that he himself cannot stay here, not while Beron is beyond himself with anger, so he’s telling you to stay, to talk to the Night Court for him.

You nod, and he disappears.

Kallias asks Feyre quietly, “Did you master the ice?”

She gives him a shallow nod in return. “All of it.”

Kallias scrubs at his face as Viviane sets a hand on his arm. “Does it make a difference, Kal?”

“I don’t know,” he admits.

But Tarquin says, “You saved us Under the Mountain. Losing a kernel of power seems a worthy payment.”

“It seems she took far more than that,” Helion argues, “If she could be within seconds of drowning Beron despite the wards.”

Helion’s power, warm and clear, brushes against their shield, trawling through the air between everyone. As if testing for a tether.

Thesean declares, “What’s done is done. Short of killing her,”–Rhys’s power roils through the room at the words–“There is nothing we can do.”

Feyre stands, staring Thesean in the eye. Then Helion. Tarquin. Kallias. Even you, the representative for Autumn, exactly as Nesta had done. “I did not take your power. You gave it to me, along with the gift of my immortal life. I am grateful for both. But they are mine now. And I will do with them what I will.”

Her courtiers have risen behind her, now in rank, Nesta at her left. Rhys steps up to her right, but doesn’t touch her. He lets her stand on her own like Eris is letting you, to stare everyone down.

She says quietly, but not weakly, “I will use these powers–my powers–to smash Hybern to bits. I will burn them, drown them, and freeze them. I will use these powers to heal the injured. To shatter through Hybern’s wards. I have done so already, and I will do so again. And if you think that my possession of a kernel of your magic is your biggest problem, then your priorities are severely out of order.”

The High Lords and their retinues say nothing.

But Viviane nods, chin high, and rises. “I will fight with you.”

Cressida stands a heartbeat later. “As will I.”

Both of them look to the males in their court.

Tarquin and Kallias rise.

Then Helion, smirking at Feyre and Rhys.

And finally Thesean–Thesean and Tamlin, who did not so much a breathe in her direction, had barely moved or spoken these past few moments.

All eyes turn toward you. You cannot speak for the High Lord that you serve, but you can for yourself. For yourself and for Eris, you stand, and nod, pledging your allegiance.

“I will also fight with you.”

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #acotar rewrite #acotar #acowar #acomaf #shadowsinger #azriel x you #azsazz

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