#i cannot beg enough i would do or pay anything i had to to own either of those items

[lilacargent]

Soooo first post ever and it is because i have gone down the #humansarespaceorcs rabbit hole, and my train of thought was:

Yes humans are weird and do strange things to survive. But more specifically we do weird things to our surroundings to survive, many different things.

What if, it has been a decade or two since the humans joined what ever coalition or council of aliens that work together and as a species they are mostly well known for their ability to grow crops under the worst circumstances (soil, climate anything) ofcourse the other deathworld apex predator human traits make the rounds but over time they seem to assume we cannot surprise them anymore.

Everyone knows that if a planet is ‘owned’ by a certain species they have to pay tax to the coalition, so planets that aren’t particularly useful are undesirable.

This particular planet p-jx-5£2 has been moved around endlessly, given with trade deals to get rid of it. P-jx-5£2 is 97% water, with a very high salt level so inhabitable for all developed aliens. Even though the atmosphere is a nice oxygen base and the gravitational pull allright most for the coalition members the fast spinning moon and the planets quick pace around its sun make the water move and tides switch every 2.5 hours keeping no land dry outside of low tide.

~~~~~~~~

The tall Avian alian il’trexz was elated this day was going to be great, a trade deal with the hardy humans and getting rid of a useless money drain, they didn’t have a clue what they were signing up for!

Turning towards the much smaller bipedal species standing in front of the window looking down on the blue planet that just came into their possession the strange creature mumbled something to them selves, frowning Il’trezx asks ‘im sorry what did you say, you spoke but the translator didn’t pick it up?’ The human (Steve) turned to him away from the window ‘my apologies, i was talking to myself, i said that we had to send the dutch.’ Il’trezx looked befuddled ‘the dutch? Is that some kind of animal?’

Steve threw his head back and made a series of sounds that ruffled the Avians feathers and had he not known it was a laugh it would have made him run for the hills ‘HA I’m going to tell Andreas you said that, no the Dutch is what call people from a country on earth that specialise in these kinds of climates, they’ve been begging for a challenge since they stopped the flooding on the umavi home world.’ With feathers puffed up Il’trezx wonders ‘and they are going to do what? This is an impossible planet’ immediately clasping his beak he looks a the human to see if he seemed angry at being swindled, but to his surprise Steve just looks at him ‘hm so you believe we can’t use this planet. Allright let’s make a bet.’ Interested Il’trezx leans in closer ‘what kind of bet?’ A predatory grin spreads on the bipedal aliens face ‘if we make less of this planet than the amount of tax we have to pay over it we will cover all trade costs for this quarter, insurance, travel all of it.’ Eagerly Il’trezx starts nodding ‘but’ Steve keeps going ‘if we do make more of this planet you will do the same.’

The bet is put onto paper and the higher ups of both parties also agree. In 5 years the Avians would be back and they would balance the costs to the benefits. When they departed Il’trezx says too Steve ‘you must have a lot of faith in these “dutch” ‘ the man grins teeth bared ‘ofcourse, after all they conquered water before’

The five years pass and stories have been going around of a new energy supplier from the humans, producing enough energy to run 78% of their ships and several facilities. Nobody seems to know where it is coming from but no new pollution is measured in any of these facilities. None of this bothers the Avians, after all humans come up with new things all the time.

The five years are up and Il’trezx is invited to the planet with a group of advisors and other officials, the planet which apparently they have renamed to ‘posy’ which is supposed to be short for some kind of sea god from their olden days.

On arrival the amount of coming and going baffles them massive groups of ships docking or docked and all somehow attached to wires that run into machines.

The planets change alone was awe inspiring, two cities on opposite sides of the planet and what seems like millions of weird blades attached to high poles every where. Strange wheels and long walls between towers rising from the rapidly moving waters.

This… this was their new energy source. They somehow made a battery of this uninhabitable planet and then built a home.

On the meeting place Steve is waiting with a man slightly taller than him. Spreading his arms the smaller human says ‘welcome to Poseidon, this is Andreas our main mechanic here. He has been here with planning since orbit 1.’

After the introductions were done Andreas led the group through what they called the Northern city and showed on his device the steps it took to get a foothold and how they proceeded from there, mentioning that many of these steps his home country had used thousands of year ago to gain land from sea, and energy from the movement of water and air. They specialised in this form of terra forming and it showed.

The Avians were astounded, not having realised that there was more than one kind of way the Humans had battled their environment even beating back the waters of their world.

Without a doubt the humans had won the bet and had another legend added to their name. More and more humans showed that with the right motivation they could settle right about anywhere.

********

So yea… my stupid little idea. Hopefully someone will enjoy it. I just liked the idea of specific cultures and stuff. specialising in certain things.

Edit: im amazed people seem to like it! If people have ideas or other cultures they think would baffle aliens, im certainly willing to try and write something

#humans are space orcs #humans in space #humans are space oddities

[beforeimdeceased]

CRYBABY - (E.W) PT5

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: who the fuck is abby?

a/n: noo don’t do this ellie look at me :( this isn’t you 🥺 LMAO! what do you guys think is going to happened next omg…

if i told you that i hated you, would you go away?

masterlist.

you ubered yourself to another hotel and payed to stay there for the night. letting jesse and dina know, but ofcourse, not awarding ellie with that information. in truth, she was fucking sweating bullets. could barely sleep last night with you on her mind.

she’s mean, you know that. everybody does. she can be intense, brass, and brutally honest. but, the brutality had gone from drunk cursing out strangers to using you as a punching bag. you were far too sensitive for any of that shit. you overthink too much, cry too often. if she wasn’t going to change then this was your last straw.

as you wake up and ready yourself to gather your things, you notice a string of texts from ellie. all desperate and eager. nothing along the lines of “i’m sorry”. nothing close to an apology. she begged to see you before their last show in the state, knowing you’d be going back home after. and staying there.

you’d calmed down enough to know you could face her. collecting the things you’d brought with you and hyping yourself up in the mirror before leaving. “you got this. you’re not gonna cry today.”

when you arrived at your hotel room, the door was cracked open. you’d caught wind that dina and jesse had gone out for breakfast so it was just you and ellie.

sadly enough, when you opened the door, ellie looked like a wounded puppy. eyes glossy while her face is twisted into a frown. you cross your arms. “morning.”

she looks excited to see you, getting up from her seat on the couch to greet you. “morning, can we talk?”

your heart is pinging. you feel so many emotions for her, some you cannot name. you nod your head and walk over to where she’d been sitting, and take a seat. she trails behind you, placing herself just inches away.

“i’m sorry.” she starts, eyes sympathetically looking into your very own. when your gaze starts to falter she reaches out to hold your hands and catch your attention. “really truly. i’m sorry for everything. for the song, for calling you up onstage, for all the shitty things i do to you and say about you. for pissing you off so bad that you felt like punching me, because i know you’re nowhere near violent.” she takes a breath. “i’m really sorry.”

you sit with her apology, soaking it all in. you can tell it’s genuine because, as far as you’re concerned, she’s never apologized for anything and seriously meant it. but she means it now, with every beat of her heart.

“i hate that i ruined this trip for you. are you still coming to our last show? i’ll apologize publicly in front of all the cameras. i’ll tell them i lied about the song.”

“it’s okay ellie. calm down.” you’d never seen her this frantic. this weak. “i’m still coming to the show. thank you for apologizing.”

she takes a deep breath and leans back into the couch. “okay good. that’s great. again, i’m sorry.”

you nod along and stand up to grab some things from the bags you’d left. “i’ve gotta go meet dina and jesse for something, but i’ll see you there, okay?”

when you turn to look at her she’s blushing. what the hell is she doing blushing? when she see’s you notice it, she turns her head. “yeah yeah. you guys have fun. see you later.”

“she’s bringing abby! i’ve always wanted her to come to a show, i didn’t even know she was in the state.” dina rambles on at rehearsal.

“she drove up last night because she’s taking her home, remember?” jesse chimes up.

ellie’s heard the name abby a record 20 times in the last 5 minutes and it’s starting to play on loop in her head like a mantra. she didn’t care to find out who it was though, they had a show to rehearse for. and she was even more nervous about the public apology. what if you didn’t actually show? what if she really fucked up this time?

“alright guys enough chatter. let’s go over the chorus of ‘what you know’ one more time—“

but she’s stopped by dina whispering to jesse. “i think she might ask her out tonight.”

and jesse asks, “who?” and dina says your name and ellie feels like she’s about to fucking collapse. that all her limbs are going to fall off right then and there. that her head will pop off and roll offstage and onto to the ground. who the fuck is abby? who the fuck is abby? who the fuck is abby?

ellie finds out in the dressing room before the show. “abby! it’s so great to see you.” dina rushes over to give her a hug. jesse settles for a high five and ellie takes a handshake. “so you’re abby?”

“yeah, nice to meet you. i’ve heard so much about you.” abby smiles.

ellie’s cursing herself for any and everything she’s ever done in this moment. the blonde stood in front of her is buff as hell, something she can tell through the hoodie and sweats she was wearing. both being seattle revival merch.

“i can’t wait to see you guys perform.”

ellie ignores her. “where’s…?” she trails. searching behind the girl to see if you’d been hiding behind her big figure. “oh, she’s on her way. had to stop to use the bathroom.” abby responds, sensing you were who she’d been searching for.

ellie wondered if you and abby had started dating yet? who asked out who? how much did abby know about the two of you? was that any of her business? why did she show up now? why hadn’t she heard about her before? maybe she did and wasn’t paying attention? she never really listened to you anyway. not until recently. not until she’d made you cry. made you punch her in the fucking face.

ellie’s thoughts are cut loose when abby taps her on the shoulder. “can we talk?”

ellie nods, eager to do whatever this was going to be in private. “yo, i’ll be right back.” she calls to jesse and dina.

ellie leads her out of the dressing room and into a small area in the hallway that’s getting the least traffic. the second they get there, abby slaps ellie across the face. “don’t you ever fucking talk to her again.”

“who—“ ellie rubs the sore area turning red.

“oh don’t play stupid you know who—“

“no. who the fuck are you to tell me what i can and can’t do? you fucking bitch.”

and a fight ensues. an actual brawl in the hallway. ellie’s on top for a while getting some punches in until abby grabs at her shirt and pulls her to the ground. jabbing her in the stomach. ellie kicks her in the face. it’s almost cartoonish, how wrapped up and wound they are as they lay into each other. someone rushes to grab security but you make it there first. eyes widening as you approach. you call for jesse and dina, and when they recognize your voice it makes them both stop to look up. bloody. scratched up. with tomato red faces.

“what the fuck?”

#bunnie can speak? ☆ #ellie williams #・❥・ bun’s sweet ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #abby anderson #bun’s precious abby ✧.* #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams x you #ellie fanfic #ellie x you #ellie williams fanfiction #williams ellie #ellie williams tlou #mean!ellie #ellie x reader #tlou headcanons #tlou fanfic #modern ellie #rockstar!ellie #beforeimdeceased #© abbysvictim

[luckycharms1701]

Maybe a request, you can ignore if you don't like the idea tho!

What about f!reader pegging one of the turtles headcanons? i'd ask specifically for Donnie in this one.

😬 gonna be real here anon-chan. i’m so glad you’re here but i’m not sure i’m the one to fill this request. see, the problem with sending this to me is that i am a bottom. i am like super bottom. pegging isn’t really my thing. but! the people i would send you to have requests closed right now, so i will do my best to tide you over until you can ask someone else. i am sorry in advance.

edit: uhhhhhhhhhh spicy. so spicy. i uh cannot emphasize enough, 🌶️🌶️🌶️

It definitely starts as an experiment, something he’s heard about and wants to try. When you do, he finds that he loves it. He loves it a Lot.

He creates a strap specifically designed to maximize pleasure for both of you. It takes him a couple of attempts to get it right. The less said about that the better. It’s worth it though, for what he ends up with. A double-sided strap-on, thick and heavy on one side for him and a rabbit on the other side for you. It vibrates. Everywhere.

He always makes sure to get you off before asking you to peg him. The more he wants it, the more orgasms he gives you first. One of his favorite things to do is fuck you with his fingers until you’re practically insensate and then ride you.

Even better when you suggest it. He gets this look on his face and practically tackles you onto the bed. He’s so happy that you enjoy this too that he gets overeager. The clothes practically fly off. Still, he’s the king of prep. Neither of you is doing anything with the strap-on until you’re both ready.

He loves that you can share this experience, getting to fuck someone you love. When he can, he’ll pay attention to how you fuck him and use that knowledge to absolutely devastate you when it’s his turn. You didn’t think he could get better at fucking you, but he proves you wrong.

His favorite thing. Is when you first bottom in him. He’ll whine and beg for more, even knowing you can’t go any further.

~~~~~~~

i. i’m sorry that’s all i’ve got headcanon-wise. however, a little blurb DID pop into my head that’s uh more my speed and therefore might be a little better? maybe? anyway it won’t leave me alone so here you go, a little extra for you. featuring donnie topping from the bottom.

edit: uh. well! that wasn't supposed to happen. what. enjoy?

~~~~~~~

Donnie whines as you bottom in him, and you shudder before forcing yourself to still. You are desperate to rub against the smooth silicone pressing into your clit, but you know what will happen if you do. You try to think about anything else as he continues to whine and pant and writhe, getting used to the strap-on inside of him. He sounds so beautiful, and you answer his whine with a moan of your own. His eyes pop open, and his lips twitch upward.

“Are you ready, baby?” He laughs lowly at how quickly and violently you nod your head, then stretches to reach the bed stand. You can see the way his movement causes him more pleasure, your cock deep inside of him rubbing against his walls. He picks up the remote that haunts your dreams.

The lowest setting immediately sets you to shaking, but you don’t move yet. “Good girl!” Donnie’s praise goes straight to your core, and you can only whine in response. “Look at me. Don’t look away. I want to see you.” You raise your head from where it had fallen to your chest. The desire in his eyes sends an electric thrill through you that causes you to practically gush around the dildo deep inside of you. You start shaking harder for a different reason.

Donnie takes a deep breath and squirms as the vibration courses through him as well. He gets a wicked look in his eye, and an alarm goes off in the part of your brain that isn’t mush. Before you can say a word, he ups the vibration and thrusts upward, pushing the strap-on deeper into you.

You feel the sheets stretch underneath your fingers as your whole body stiffens, desperately holding back the urge to match the way he’s grinding into you. You cannot hold back the scream or the tears though. It takes everything in you to keep your eyes on Donnie. The satisfaction on his face as he drags you to the edge once again does not help with your struggle, and he knows it.

His eyes go half-lidded with his own pleasure as he continues to grind into you. His hand that’s not holding the remote comes up and presses into your lips. You obediently open your mouth and his thumb snakes in and holds your tongue down. “You’re doing so good for me, darling. So, so good.” You hold his gaze, trying to convey your desperation. You’re not sure you could speak even if his fingers weren’t in your mouth.

Donnie leans up and his tongue joins his fingers. He leisurely maps out your mouth, as if he has all the time in the world. Your moan is garbled with all of him in your mouth. He pulls back, hand leaving your mouth and stretching around your neck instead. He stares at you, still grinding hard, and waits. You swallow and open your mouth.

“D-Donnie… please… please!”

His smile is wicked as he clicks the vibration higher, causing both of you to gasp. “A-alright love. You can move.” You barely catch yourself from dropping your head in relief, then you pull back and start to thrust.

~~~~~~~

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic @writinandcrying

#tmnt #bayverse donnie #bayverse donnie x reader #theory tag #writing tag #that was #supposed to be like a couple of paragraphs #i #maybe i'm more into pegging than i realized #anYWAY

[creepinginyourheartbabecomeonnow]

‼️please help homeless filipino siblings afford a car for shelter and to make a living‼️

This is long, but i hope and pray you consider reading it all, please

hi, im Alex and im sure you've seen me on here the past few weeks, begging for my youngest brother's hospital fees

he's been released and we found our two other brothers on the street begging for food and in a bad condition

we recently lost both our parents so we're left orphans and homeless, we have no other family left

im the eldest and all three of my brothers are underage, i feel bad for not being abled enough to get a job to provide for them

i've been a grab (uber) driver before the bank had to repossess our own car so i had to stop and get different jobs but i dont last because im extremely anemic and i get so physically exhausted

i found a secondhand suv for sale posted on a post, i texted them about it

we met up this afternoon to talk and to check the car. it's old but in a good condition, it's also the cheapest i could find that would fit all four of us comfortably and would stand as a temporary home for us. i was told that the owner has been trying to sell this car for two years for his wife's dialysis with no luck. the car is on sale for 250k PHP or 4,281.12 USD

i really would like to afford this car as it would help us:

have shelter now, we're homeless and have nowhere to go

make a living, i can drive for grab again and also for delivery (this is a job i can actually do fine)

save up to pay for our hospital debts (our dad's when he died, our mom's ambulance fee and my youngest brother's remaining hospital debt)

pay for our mom's ashes (1,275$)

i wouldn't have to be away from my brothers, i cannot leave them alone on their own. they can be with me all the time

save up to pay for a proper place

save up to send my brothers to public school

save up for my brother's asthma medications

save up to get back my two sons that i gave up to the orphanage last year

help the car owner with his own financial problem with his wife's dialysis

this car can change our lives, unfortunately i have 0 anything to afford it. the owner said i only have to give 65,000 PHP or 1,112.99 USD to drive off with it and i can pay the rest of the amount in installments whenever I can. he's very kind and i hope to help him and his family as well

if only 55 people can spare us 20$ to friday Oct 28th, we can drive off with this car for a new start. we haven't properly grieved for both our parents and i hope with this we can finally do it in peace

a reblog to reach a bigger audience would help us a lot as well, i know this seems impossible to reach by friday but i am praying for a miracle to happen to us, just once. thank you and i hope you would consider helping us a bit

[axailslink]

Shuri and reader friends to lovers or enemies to lovers

Silence

Shuri x FEM reader

Summary: she thinks she's so damn smart you don't know if you hate her for that or love her for it.

Shuri watches as you work and scoffs as you congratulate yourself on finding a match to the sample she couldn't find all night yesterday "okay we get it you think you're so smart always yapping about yourself" you laugh and shrug "I mean you must be distracted princess I've never beat you at anything it's kind of funny. What's all up in your head that you can't find a simple DNA sample?" Shuri sucks her teeth before turning back around "you're getting big headed Y/n remember I'm the one who was able to find a way to stabilize the vibranium so it could be moved in a fast pace." You roll your eyes and stand in front of her "I find that funny because I'm the one who built the stabilizers." She nods and smiles at you it's a wicked grin though she's happy that you're able to stand up to her anyone else in the lab wouldn't dare. You know she's smart she's always been smart but so have you you're just a different type of smart she's science smart you're mechanic smart but you know a little something about science. You're not completely sure when the whole enemies thing started but you find it cute how she's so cocky and proud of her achievements until you point out a simple mistake or error. Whenever you do this she simply calls it yapping because you love to congratulate yourself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're not completely sure what Shuri's been so busy with recently but she's continuously grunting and that means she can't find something out you walk over just to glance over her shoulder. "No go over there I've got this" you suck your teeth and push her aside "girl ain't nobody studding you let me take a look" you carefully rearrange the bubbles on the screen which are a close up of someone's DNA. "You had them in the wrong place see?" She glances over and you can see the annoyance in her face she's been rearranging the damn thing all day. "You think you're so smart don't you?" You shrug and smile "I mean you're the one who keeps saying it not me. What do you think I'm smart?" You smile at her and she glances down at your pretty face before smiling back showing all her teeth "you know I think you're smart maybe one of the only people who can correct me but do you think you're smart enough to correct me?" This was starting to sound as if she was not talking about science or mechanics as she leans down a bit too close to your face for your comfort you can feel her hands behind you encasing you against the lab table. It's getting a bit warm in here her curls fall onto your forehead and you just look past her because if you look back at her with the gaze she has on you there's no telling what you might do. Seriously your mind is currently running through so many possible scenarios, positions and actions right now.

"Uhm" you glance around at the others in the lab "there are other people here what would queen mother think? The indecency" She spares your lips a quick glance "you make it seem like I'm about to do something to be ashamed of" you shake your head no "no absolutely not I just think...privacy is a very important thing and if the princess is going to kiss someone she works with there should you know be some type of privacy..." She pulls back and gets back to her tablet as if she didn't just have you pinned against a lab table. "What the fuck..?" She smiles to herself but pays you no mind "I finally silenced all that "I'm smarter than you" yapping." You groan "not to a be a begging bitch bitch why'd you stop?" She laughs "because people are around and what would queen mother think?" You scoff at her own use of your earlier words and return to your work but you cannot stop thinking about how close she just was to you kissing distance and you didn't take your damn chance. Why would you not take that chance? Idiocy she kept calling you smart but the one time you need to make a smart choice your mind goes blank and it's all because of her. Maybe she finally has silenced your science yapping but now you had something else to talk about...HER.

#shuri angst #shuri imagine #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #shuri black panther #shuri udaku x reader #shuri udaku #mcu shuri #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #shuri x you #shuri x fem!reader #shuri x f!reader #princess shuri #queen shuri #black reader #shuri fluff #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #black panther fics #black panther imagine #black panther x reader #azail is bored #shuri fanfiction #letitia wright x black!reader #letitia wright shuri #letitia wright #shuri my love #letitia wright scotty

[ivanzplaid]

This is an idea I had last night and I just remembered it. Otis with a male reader who used to be a cheerleader. What would Otis think about it?

i absolutely love this idea because its just so otis, i have no other words to describe it other than that. he would LOVEEEE THIS, i literally cannot thank you enough for this thought. yes i am trying to rebrand my blog because i am currently moving myself into a new bedroom so i feel the need to make everything new, and i also like how this looks LOL

requests r open, masterlist is up!!!

otis driftwood x m! formercheerleader!reader | drabble & hcs

warnings: some sexual comments/references, typical otis behavior, fluff

it would most likely come up as a random fact you shared with him, not thinking much of it, but he is majorly interested. loves to find out even more how non-conformist you are, just his own little pride in you that he finds

"You were a cheerleader? Didn' take ya for one of them frilly typa guys.. what did you do in it?"

will genuinely be interested because hes never really heard of or seen any guy do that, and he most likely wasnt given that opportunity growing up (we see that he likes the more literal arts)

hes happy that someone shares his artistic mind and will ask you if you remember any moves or any routines.... or if youre still as flexible (he would like to test that out)

baby will eventually find you two as youre in the middle of a routine, and she sits down to admire as well. shes most definitely interested snd will be begging you to teach her anything's

will try to memorize your figure as you pose and draw you to materialize your beauty (not that he doesn't tell you it enough, he just thinks that youre a work of art, especially when youre in your own world)

wants you to tell him about the uniforms... for so many reasons. for one he wants to know how you used to dress in this specific sport, once again because his lack of knowledge. and two because he wants to make sexual innuendos and comments about how good youd look if you dressed for him like that again.. he just wants to see his boyfriend all pampered up for him giving him a show

will pay closer attention to how much you use your former abilities around the house, and how much of a help it actually is to everyday life and helping mama around

may try to recreate your uniform with his victims clothing.. as a cute little present!!!! he just wants you to know that he values your hobbies and own experiences and that he does care about you

if you have any routines you remember, and decide to show him, hes going to be confused as hell as he tries to recreate the chants

"Lets go! P.. a... n.... shit sweetheart whats the next letter?"

loves to tease you about it and make fun of you lovingly, because partially he thinks its hilarious that you used to jump around for fun

may decide to test your gymnast skills from time to time and surprise you by wrestling or by having some sort of dare going on, hes gotta keep you on your feet

also loves to compete with you, sometimes seeing who's faster or who's stronger, or more agile. he'll make it a game when youre chasing victims to see who catches them first, or who can keep them down longer

"Don't get it wrong handsome, i'm still stronger."

as you can see is very adamant that he could and will beat you in a fight if it ever happened.. slightly threatened but also turned on

makes you reach or stretch for affection more. whether it be making you go on your tiptoes to kiss him, or go through obstacles to cuddle

#house of 1000 corpses #otis driftwood #otis driftwood x you #otis driftwood x reader #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader

[rice-enjoyer]

Burn then, burn away for me ; since you cannot do anything correctly.

a/n: hey remember how i wrote that bulletfic when my villain sagau reader spent time with scara in inazuma? yeah. i thought about it a bit too hard. i suggest reading this beforehand, minor are references taken from it. the fic takes time right before the start of the sumeru archon quest. ~0.7k words. song rec: Diablo Swing Orchestra - Speed Dating An Arsonist

cw: gn reader, x reader format, the usual. my villain sagau au, so a bunch of nasty things as always. cult-ish devotion, extreme power imbalance, deception, burning a civilian as punishment, you finally settle on a godly title to call yourself. dottore gets mentioned for 1.5 paragraphs

--

Waking the busy streets of Inazuma, you meet up with a familiar face in a somewhat deserted alley. You glance to the side, then back to, if you were followed. It seems to be happening more often and often, you wonder if their devotion is getting out of hand. No sign of any plebian discovering you, you exhale deeply and calmly and turn to your guest. "Oh Balledeer, how nice of you to show. Is everything going according to plan?" You inquire. He avoids eye contact at first but gathers the courage to look the all-knowing god in the eye. He only dares to do so because of your rather strange preferences for companions and acquaintances.

Giving a quick answer to leave your overwhelming object of interest. He wonders how some of his fellow colleagues would desire that. You glance at him, leaning close and startling him in his train of thought. Snapping your fingers, realizing you had a request on the tip of your tongue, but more pressing matters would always keep it hidden.

"Oh, if you meet with Dottore quicker than I do, please inform him that I see all, and being stalked by an amateur build of him is indeed quite amusing, but sometimes distracting. He already has that small vial of blood he took from me, greed could kill the curious cat. If he tries anything that goes against my principles, I'll simply dispose of him."

The way you change your tone depending on who you are talking about, or what they have done makes every being flock to you and bow down to their knees, naturally. Begging for forgiveness if their actions call for it. Scaramouche is barely able to fight that urge, fixing his posture quickly as you chuckle at just how lovingly pathetic all your followers are in their own special way.

You continue to stroll in a deserted part of the city when seeing something absolutely disgusting. There is a striking resemblance, you cannot blame your acolytes. That poor sod who made themselves look like you on the streets of Inazuma must pay for their impersonation of the one true god. Making sure there is no audience to be wary of, you resume with your musings.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?" With a swift move of your hand, you change your appearance into an innocent shrine maiden. Still hidden in the alley you both are in, there's no need to make a scene from your transformation, crowds are still your biggest enemy. "I wonder how long shall it take them to realize." The pitch of your voice changes with the disguise too, it's a scary power Scaramouche has only heard cautionary tales of this ability of yours from an agent of his. He looks down while speaking, but still addresses you with respect, or fear. It matters not, they are one and the same. "I believe they are too simple to even think so far ahead of their scheme that they would get caught, Your Grace."

You nod in agreement and walk up to the impostor, who's doing a horrid job at pretending to be you. How brave, but you know very well there is nothing ordinary people wouldn't do for mora or fame if they are desperate enough. Putting on your signature smile, you tread with faked uncertainty to the impostor, pretending to be a devout follower of yourself. Asking a sting of questions only you know the answer to, your smile turns into a devilish grin. There are tears in the corner of their eyes, they know divine judgment has come for them. You make a motion of your hand, returning to your original form.

You could reshape all of Teyvat within a blink of an eye. Annihilate and create. Turn the beloved archons into dust that would flow through the barren lands of your wrath, if you felt like it. Elemental energy flowing where it shouldn't, the world is your sandpit to make nice sculptures and castles in, or stomp down on existing ones.

They shall learn their place, letting them off with a little slap on the wrist, the mark being burned into their skin deeply, meat and muscle falling off shortly after. Panicked screaming would pour out of their mouth, only to be silenced with a whisper of the word "hush". Your words are their command, they cannot disobey.

"Compassion is not something I'm good at executing. Ruling with a just mind, however, is more my style. Doll, I've decided on my title." He looks at you, real and authentic fear on the 6th harbinger's face. "Nemesis has a nice ring to it, does it not?"

The impostor is shaking on the ground, unable to get up. You drag the Balladeer by the arm, he doesn't seem to show any resistance, he's too busy looking at the fake you with utter repulsion and disgust. "I need to hear all about your plan to become an archon, it sounds quite nice, enlighten me, I'm so very intrigued." Scaramouche is still not sure if he should brag about his rather special relationship with the true god, now to be referred to as Nemesis. You are captivating in ways words cannot express, and he's slowly warming up to your antics. There will come a time when he will, he's certain of it.

#unsympathetic creator sagau #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin #rice is writing #genshin impact scaramouche #sagau #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau x reader #sagau cult au #genshin dottore

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Devotion

Fandom: Robin Hood (BBC TV Series)

Ship: Guy of Gisbourne x Robin Hood's Sister

Trope: Ennemies to lovers (sort of) - Angst with a fluffy ending

Note: @sorisooyaa Second one. I still don't know what to make of it, but it's there sooo....

Word count: 9 258

Warnings: SMUT (because I cannot write a story without a sex scene apparently), violence in acts and in words, threats of rape, threats, betrayal, mentions of starvation and torture. (Promise it's only in passing) Mentions of christian faith from the reader and from Guy.

Tag-list: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard (I know you love Guy, I hope I did him justice :) ) @sotwk

“I want her imprisoned and hung! Now!”

The outrage was a novelty. Usually, you were only accompanied by the sound of the merchants, maybe the laughing children running around. You were not technically allowed to go out on your own, but the walls of your room were beginning to imprint themselves onto your mind and going crazy was not a death you were willing to live. The heavy hood on your head covered you enough for the Sheriff’s and Gisbourne’s men to patrol by without recognizing you. You were exchanging pleasantries with an old woman, when nearby a tall and broad-shouldered man had screamed after a thief.

“She stole a full loaf of bread! Arrest her!”

Of course, you had not seen the scene. You figured that he was right, the young girl struggling to get out of his grip, proof enough. She was still holding the bread trying to find an escape with her eyes when she landed on you. Why was it always you? You sighed, excusing yourself to the merchant before walking towards the commotion.

“Kind Sir, you would not deprive a young girl of food, would you?”

Only then did he look at you. He was towering over you, still not releasing the girl. With the cloth of her ragged tunic, you could not see, yet it was certain in your mind he was going to leave a mark.

“Only if she pays for it! It’s my life’s work lady. “-I will pay for it. As for you, Sir” you pointed a finger at his face, coming closer, making him step back, “God will see to it that your unchristian behaviour is punished.”

The merchant’s face fell as if the threat really frightened him, and in a swift movement, you pulled the girl out of harm’s way and behind you. She was shaking and crying. Two pieces of silver fell into his hand. Even then, the man did not seem satisfied. This time, he grabbed you by the arm to shake you down. Before you could do anything, the hood you were wearing fell backwards, revealing your face to the soldiers passing by. You panicked. If the Sheriff knew you were there, he was going to have you executed. You were a prisoner of his. Not a guest. He had made sure you had known that when they had found out about your existence.

Being Robin’s sister was not always an easy path to be on. Even if he had left you to watch over your parents’ estate, Robin had been foolish enough to think the Sheriff had principle. Or honour. As soon as he figured out you were related, a mysterious invitation demanded your presence in the city. For your protection. It came from the king. Or so you thought. Upon arrival, you were stripped of your clothes, dressed in rags and left in a prison cell for an unknown period of time with only water and stale bread. He wanted to break you, and he did. After a prolonged time in the shadows, you finally yielded, begging him to take you home. You did not know where Robin was, he knew that. What he wanted was to have you on his side, at least in appearance. You were living within the city walls, under constant surveillance. Luckily, some men and women within the castle were still on Robin’s side and helped you out of that godforsaken prison. What little privilege you had, you had because of your status. The Sheriff could not stop you from spending your own money, nor sending letters containing orders for your employees left to fend for themselves. He wanted to have your goodwill, to turn your brother to disgrace in the eyes of the people and finally capture him. After weeks and months, nothing had changed. The people of Nottingham were still on his side, no matter what. Even worse, they were suspecting something was afoot after you had arrived overnight, seemingly uninvited and did not make any public appearances for a long while. This would be the last straw to your precarious peace with the Sheriff. You turned to the girl, petrified behind you. “Run!” And she bolted. The soldiers noticed your predicament and were walking towards you. Your fingers were digging into the man’s forearm. He did not move. The bruise would have to be covered for the next few days, you thought. If you didn’t get caught before then. You closed your eyes, tears threatening to fall. Upon the soldiers approaching, the merchant thought his case won.

“Finally! I demanded your presence long ago! -Sir, unhand the lady, if you wish to keep your hand.”

The tone was unmistakable, his voice as level as could be. Gisbourne. You were dead.

Escorted by soldiers, you left the market without a word for any of your “saviours”. You could feel the animosity of Gisbourne’s men, angered by all the running around you had provoked. As you came to learn, your escapades were not as sneaky as you had thought. Vaisey had known about them all along, only authorizing them under the scrutiny of his guard dog. Alongside his men of course, tired of spending all their time running after you. Guy of Gisbourne was not what you would call a kind man. Sometimes, he would surprise you and everyone else - probably himself too - by making a merciful decision, such as leaving the girl and not sending after her. You hoped she was alright, these days survival was the only priority. The thought of having her steal again made you inexplicably sad.

Unexpectedly you were propelled forward, the horse under you coming to a halt. You ended up grabbing anything you could, forgetting who was in control of the horse. Hence, finding yourself face first into Gisbourne’s back, your hands clasped around his waist. Of course, he would not let a lady walk back to the castle. Even though you had walked from the castle in the first place. What it told you was not that he was a gentleman, but that he did not want you to run again. The hassle of having to find you the first time was enough for him.

“Milady. You can let go. We have arrived.”

He untangled your hand from his body with a quiet and soft chuckle. The sound surprised you both. A faint red tainted his cheeks as he dismounted. Your eyes scrutinized the man before you. His palm extended towards you, eyes cast downward. His body was stiff, his back straight, a hint of care in his manners. In hindsight, you had never seen him raise his voice at any woman. Not that you were interested in the man, in the first place. He was handsome, yes. When no one was looking, at the Sheriff’s table, you had noticed the way his eyes filled with something… something close to longing. His smile was so rare too. Although, you knew better than to trust appearances and did not dwell on the thought. His hands were covered in blood. That was who he was. Who you were, was someone who would do anything to stop him. This was the only thing you needed to know about Guy of Gisbourne.

You dismounted on your own, the rejection a not-so-subtle way of telling him to leave. Predictively, your clumsiness stroke. Luckily, the last man on Earth you wanted to, caught your waist, steadying you. The warmth of his hands knocked the air out of your lungs. For what felt like an eternity and in the blink of an eye, his palms settled there, thumbs moving in a slow soothing motion. You could feel the heat of his breath on the shell of your ear, his body slightly hovering above you. Every sense was heightened by his proximity. Until you pushed his hands back. Just as he had done with you, you slowly eased his fingers from your waist. The loss was felt deeply. Without turning around, you whispered a muffled “Thank you.” Frowning to yourself, the inner turmoil caused by his touch would not leave you. It had been so careful almost tender. Something stirred in you, unsettling you in the deepest. Gisbourne’s presence had never felt hostile to you, even if you knew of his actions. Somehow, he never felt like a threat to you, even as a sworn enemy and rival of your brother. He could have used you, punish you for what your brother had done - whatever that may have been. Marian was a good part of it, you knew that. She has chosen Robin, not Gisbourne. A cold feeling ran through you: had he ever stopped loving her? Despite everything had he not stopped caring for her? Worse: why was the notion of him caring for someone else, was so upsetting for you? The answer never came. In the shadows, he followed your steps, guiding you silently towards the main hall. You thought you knew what was to come. This moment between the two of you changed everything. But so little at the same time. You were still a prisoner. He was still a monster. Nothing would change that. You gained back composure as you stepped into the hall, hearing his steps closely behind you, ever watchful.

“Milady of Locksley. What a surprise to see you here! And here I thought I would find you in your chambers, quietly reading as a lady is supposed to. Not very lady-like of you to go running around with peasants.”

Vaisey’s breath stunk of wine and red meat. His nose was a mere inch away and you could count the riddles around his eyes as if they interested you. He stepped away, a cheerful expression on his face. That was a first.

“You see, milady, I am afraid that I will have to keep you much longer than anticipated. Indeed, your brother has yet to show a decline in popularity, and you have yet to help us find him… -Sheriff, with all due respect, which is to say none, could you get to the point? I have a better story than yours to get back to.”

Your words rang in the air, echoing through the room. His face was twisted. He gripped your jaw. He, too, would leave bruises you’d have to cover. Somewhere behind you, you could feel Gisbourne straighten. Just as an archer ready to shoot, the arrow taunted and eyes on the target.

“Stupid, silly, little girl. You do not know who you are playing with, do you?”

He observed you, from one side to the other, manhandling your jaw, hurting you more and more. One of your teeth was bound to break if he kept at it. Deliberately, he gripped your throat, not enough to hurt but enough to know he could strangle you in a second.

“Sir…”

It had escaped him. Knowing full well what his superiors would and could do to him, at that moment, Guy did not care. For if he had learned something about you, all those afternoons and mornings watching over your every move, is that you were kind. Smart. Rebellious and resilient more than he could ever be. If he had been foolish enough to say it aloud, he would have said his feelings for you rivaled those he had for Marian. But he could not. Not yet. So, instead, he said the only thing he hoped would save you.

“What? Don’t you see I am occupied?”

He steeled himself for what was to come, stepping next to you.

“Sir, I fear that if any harm were to come to her, the riots would only grow stronger. Would it not be wise to lock her in her room and limit her outings as you thought? -She defies me. She defies you too, you know. Sneaking around, losing your men in the marketplaces and the streets of Nottingham.”

Vaisey eyed his right-hand man. Unfortunately, the appointed Sheriff knew where people’s weaknesses laid, and he knew how to manipulate them.

“Unless… you have a soft spot for maidens in distress? First, Marian and now this one?”

A shiver ran down your spine as he focused on you once again. His hand had an ever-growing grip on your throat, even with you were desperately trying to get his hand to give, nails biting into his flesh, leaving blood and red trails on his wrist. The world was becoming darker with each passing heartbeat, the air barely passing through your lips and nose. Then, abruptly, he released you, and you fell to your knees. Gisbourne did not move, only clenching his fist in frustration as you were coughing harshly at his feet. This was humiliating. When you gained back your breath, you stood up, voluntarily stepping forward, standing your ground. Vaisey laughed, pouring himself another cup of wine. His face lit up. An idea had emerged in his brain and you were not sure you wanted to know what it was.

“Gisbourne, since you cannot seem to keep notorious thief Robin Hood’s little sister under control, how would you like it if I made the task easier for you? -What do you mean?”

He looked you over, lurking at your body as if it was a piece of meat ready to be eaten.

“I mean, that his little bird is not going anywhere. But what better way of keeping her from running if she was bound to this place… in holy matrimony.”

Before you had a chance to realize it, Vaisey ordered his guards to keep you quiet and still. This time, tears did spill, down your cheeks, wetting the hand of whoever was keeping you from speaking.

“I would have taken her for myself, alas my interest lie elsewhere, and I have no patience for a wench who can not keep her place.” The Sheriff licked his lips, visibly amused and excited by your predicament “Although, I would have had a good time taming her.”

Gisbourne was heaving. He could not… would not entertain the idea of marriage. It felt beyond him. A muted hope lit up inside him. Was it the only chance he’d have at love? The beacon was extinguished just as it appeared. You did not want him. None of the women he had cared for wanted him. Guy knew himself to be many things, including a murderer. But forcing your hand, he could not do it.

“My lord, I can not accept. -Oh, but you’ll have to. This” He gestured to you, as you were still struggling against the hold the guards had on you. “Is your punishment. Everything she does you will have to answer for. If you lose her or if she escapes, your head rolls. It was simple enough to keep her within the castle, but you spectacularly failed at that too. I should hope that chained to you, you would not let her go. Find a way to make her tame. Put a baby or two in her, that will keep her occupied.”

The thought of it made you want to gag, your body used and abused, violated beyond recognition, your very existence not your own. You would rather die than suffer such a fate.

“Her presence here is essential. Her brother will come in search of her. If he has not already. The sister escaped you, why would the brother be any different? -Sir… -That is an order! She will be your wife and you will be her husband. I do not want to hear another word from you before I see Robin Hood’s head on a spike. If not his, then it’ll be yours.” Vaisey stepped closer to Guy, a finger pointed at his chest. “Find a priest. Marry the girl. Spread the news and her thighs. The brother will come running. He is a hero after all, is he not?” A dark chuckle escaped his lips. “Now out of my sight before I change my mind and have you both hung.”

The guards released you within the confines of your bedroom. Gisbourne had not followed. He was probably searching for a priest at this very moment. You felt stupid for ever thinking something could be salvaged about him. Whatever your heart and body were telling you, they had to be wrong. That moment had been a fluke, a passage of weakness you would soon come to forget about. Nighttime came and still no sign of him. Maybe, just maybe, he had fled, to save himself from impending death. Your skin was tingling where he had touched you still. The bruises on your arms and throat were more painful though, erasing any softness you could have felt. Despite your initial doubts and hopes, Gisbourne did show up. With a priest. Neither addressed you, only stepping in the room without being invited to. Even if you had wanted to speak, your throat felt as if it was about to rupture.

“Is this the lady?”

Guy nodded. His breath hitched in his throat upon seeing your arm and neck. The purple marks were still there, an awful reminder of what you had survived. And what he could not prevent.

“Place yourself in front of one another.”

You looked at Gisbourne, words stuck. You frowned. He looked so lost. Awkward, bashful even. He took his gloves off, revealing his hands. He took yours in his with careful movements, minding your injuries. It confused you, his gentle manners and his murderous ways. You followed him, moving according to the priest’s demands. You would not be able to escape this, even if you ran he would catch you, you could not scream, and he had to have bribed the priest into some sort of agreement. It was all orchestrated to trap you. The lump in your throat made it even harder to breathe. The robes of the priest smelled of wine and sweat. He was probably somewhere else when Gisbourne had plucked him out. He did not even ask for your consent. Merely mumbled the vows and added: “You may kiss the bride.”

Gisborne was unreadable, even at such a short distance. Closing your eyes in the hopes it would pass soon, the warmth of his fingertips putting a strand of your hair away made you jump. You heard a sharp intake of air before he leaned in and put his lips to your cheek. It was slow, thought-through, and delicate. So many adjectives, you would never have associated with him, as late as of this morning. Once the priest went, he lingered in the room, fidgeting with his gloves. It felt as if he was about to say something. But he shut his mouth and left the room. He did not come back. Not even to claim what was his to claim. Insomnia plagued you that night, not being able to sleep more than a few hours at a time, until dawn came, all too soon.

Somehow, the Sheriff had organized what he called an “impromptu” dinner for your “hidden” union. One he intended to see to the consumption. The thought left you quiet and frightened. The bruises on your forearm and neck were now yellowish, healing slowly but surely. Unlike your ego. Vaisey was a snake. He needed to be treated like one. Poisoned by his fangs. Nevertheless, this was not the most pressing issue at the moment. Your heartbeat was erratic, panic settling in your bones at the Sheriff’s initial intentions. Gisbourne had not appeared again after last night. Hopelessly, you had thought he would. To talk at least. This was a brutal way of marrying someone. Your faith had guided you all your life. This marriage even if forced was to be respected. You were to spend the rest of your lives together and it felt strange to avoid each other like so. A young maid knocked on the door, before entering your room. She helped you get changed, and left again without a word. This silence around you was going to drive you insane. You grabbed your coat, opening your bedroom door in a hurry, only to be met with two guards and Guy of Gisbourne about to knock.

“Oh.”

Guy looked you over. You were breathing rapidly, from what he assumed to be the hurry you were in, your dress in a maroon colour he immediately recognized. Despite the Sheriff’s threat, you were about to go out. He gritted his teeth.

“Leave us.”

The guards hesitated. He threw them a look over his shoulder and they left rapidly. Without asking you, he stepped forward, making you go back into your room. Your hands were still clutching your cloak. Fear took you over as he closed the door behind him.

“Do you have a death wish?”

His eyes met yours, his full height towering above you. You craned your neck to meet his stare with the powerful force of the steel hiding in them.

“The Sheriff specifically asked for you to stay here. -I know.”

Your voice was hoarse and harsher than you intended it to be. His hand inched toward your neck, and you flinched. He pulled back when he saw it, not wanting to hurt you more.

“If you know, then why were you about to leave?”

He signaled to your hands, holding on to the cloth for dear life. He kept overstepping into your space, making you step back until you could not anymore, stuck between the wall and his unimpressed stare.

“I wasn’t… -Do you think me a fool?”

You bit your lip. Answering him would only bring more trouble.

“Do not answer that. I do not need your wits today.”

He sighed, lowering his head in an exasperated gesture. He was resigned, you would always defy the Sheriff’s authority. He only had to make sure you were not slandering his name. Or running off into the forest. Away from him, he thought.

“If we want this” he gestured between the two of you, even with the minimal space left. You could feel his breath against your cheeks. It only made them warmer, remembering the dream from the night before. “To work, you will have to follow the rules.” You scoffed, undignified.

“I am not one of your men, you cannot tell me what to… -I am not trying to tell you what to do, I am trying to protect you!”

He was angry. Frustrated by your actions. You knew he was right, even if you did not want him to be. He was right. It felt excruciating, the tear in your mind almost able to be touched, between reason and feelings, between the will to leave and the fact that you would be leaving everything behind. Including him. You looked up, staring straight into his eyes, willing yourself to put up a front. Always. The only thing you had not accounted for was the way he looked at you. His mouth agape, affection clear on his face. His pupils were blown, as dark as the abyss you were falling into. His brows furrowed in frustration and fear. You wanted to think he was genuine in his intentions, but the voice of reason was always pulling you back. He wanted your brother dead, you told yourself. That was more than ample reason to hate the man, anger flaring up in you, destroying everything in its path. You lowered your eyes, missing the way he pulled away from you, wounded, stepping back until he opened the door and turned one last time to you.

“I have no intention of forcing your hand. You make your own choices. Yet, those choices implicate me now. Would you consider it the next time you try to run away? -Why would I? My brother is in danger because of you! Because of you and your misplaced attachment!”

The words had escaped you before you could think. It was as if the place was set on fire all of a sudden. He did not touch you, but he might as well have with the brutality of his words.

“My misplaced attachment? Do you remember who your brother is? Who you are loyal to? His actions have led to lives lost! He is a thief! -Just like the Sheriff and you then! My loyalty is the only thing keeping you and your men from killing him! He is my brother! We grew up together! We…” Tears swelled in your eyes. Your hand drew his eyes to your collarbones and the yellow bruise on your throat. Guilt washed over him. He let that happen to you. The sadness, the anguish of not knowing if Robin was alive, everything for him to see written plain as day on your face. What husband did he make causing you to suffer, not being able to defend yourself…

“We grieved our parents together. We shared secrets, waves of laughter and scrapped knees. Late night stories and early morning horse-rides…” Something in you snapped. You turned away from Gisbourne, fearing for your life if he was to reach out to you.

“I had to marry you. Spend the rest of my life… with someone who wants to kill the only family I have left. Do you see the torture I am in or are you just blind?”

His silence made you wonder if he had not left the room altogether. Guy was taken aback by your sudden outburst. His honour depended on him achieving what the Sheriff asked him to do. His heart on the other hand… Seeing you hurt, desperate, and your spirits broken was the last thing he wanted to do. Marian came to his mind, fleeting, only passing through to remind him: she did not choose him. Neither did you. Would he ever learn? His love was not worth it. His affections were not required. All he loved, he loved alone. It was time he accepted it. A soft thud echoed in your bedroom. He had put a box on a table, near the fireplace.

“I will leave this here. If you will, I… I could accompany you. Outside, to the market, wherever you want to go.”

You did not answer, wrapping your arms around yourself, the sobs finally stopping. It was pathetic. How much you wanted him to say he was sorry, so you could forgive him.

“I hoped…” his throat felt tight, keeping the words at bay for a minute “I hoped that at least, my company would not be such a burden for you to bear. Maybe not now, but in the future. I have no wish to see you suffer. Nor in pain.”

A muted metallic sound let you know he had left the room. When you turned around, a faint smell of leather and heat was still lingering in the air. It made your heart clench. You went on to look at the small wooden box he had left on the table. Your fingers opened it before you could think the action through. A wedding band. You closed it in a hurry, afraid and happy.

The banquet arrived all too fast. Vaisey had outdone himself. Or told someone to. The decorations were nothing short of ostentatious, tapestries hanging from the walls, candles being lit everywhere, and tables full of plates capable of feeding more than a family of four could have in months. It was disingenuous, a display of wealth you could not bear to see. Gisbourne arrived soon after you. He looked at your hands. The band was there, settled perfectly on your finger. His chest filled with pride.

“Milady. -Sir.”

You bowed to him, willing yourself to be impassible. So far, if your companion’s stare was any indication, it worked. He offered you his arm, and you felt yourself tremble, laying your hand on his forearm. Without breaking eye contact, he grabbed your hand and kissed it tenderly, his lips leaving a hot feeling where they met your wedding band. It had taken you hours to decide whether or not you were going to wear it. Not wearing it would mean a sign of defiance to the Sheriff and you did not need any more of his wandering eyes on you, whereas wearing it meant… meant you belonged to someone, which left a sour taste in your mouth. Out of the two evils, at least you knew one of them to be more benevolent than the other.

“The newlyweds!”

The cry made you stiffen in fear. Your hand gripped Guy’s arm in response to it. He stood up, head high, putting himself a step before you, in a posture you assumed to be of protection. Was he protecting you? The thought was quickly erased from your mind, and the hope accompanying it was sniffed out when he let go of your hand. Vaisey was arriving towards you. Instinctively, you stepped forward almost colliding with Guy’s shoulders. Your hand wasn’t even an inch away from his.

“Gisbourne. Any news on the Locksley front?

Men have been posted at all entries. Guards as well.”

You clenched your jaw, looking at him sideways. The bastard.

“Oh. Milady of Gisbourne is not too happy about it. Remember, if you can’t tame her, I’ll be happy to do it myself…”

Guy’s face was stern. No emotions transpired. There, next to him, you worried he might lurch and kill the Sheriff with his own hands. Your palm met his wrist as he was about to raise his hand. His eyes snapped to you, surprised by your gesture. Though, you were not looking at him. With a saccharine smile on your lips, you addressed Visay straight on.

“I will have you know Sheriff that my husband sleeps with a sword next to him. I, on the other hand, prefer a good old dagger. Covered in poison of course. Would you like to know the provider for such a weapon? Coups are so frequent these days. Especially with…” you eyed him up and down, biting back a smirk. “Temporary replacements.”

Your tone was laced with charm and softness, yet the sharp threat underneath it all was clear.

“If that was all, I believe the first dance is ours. You’ll excuse us, will you not?”

Visay gritted his teeth, Gisbourne visibly approving of your behaviour.

“Of course, Milady.”

He let you pass in front, stopping Gisbourne in his tracks. “Get him. I will not accept another failure from you. Think about what I could do with her once you’re out of the way…”

You had stopped a few steps ahead, looking around, head high as always, saluting nobles of the court in a rehearsed manner. Guy nodded curtly before leaving Visay right there. The Sheriff did not know if he had made a wise choice when putting the two of you together. He hoped for more fight, even some evident traces of violence on you. Anything to get the Hood’s blood boiling. As usual, he feared his amusement had gotten the better of him. He should have taken care of this himself.

The feast lasted until the heavy hours of the night, leaving drunkards and young couples behind. Your feet were killing you, the wine still present in your body making you lean into Guy a lot more than you would have done sober. He was not complaining. Your hair smelled divine, with fresh flowers and honey. Maybe he had drunk a little too much himself. Or not enough for what he was about to do. He accompanied you back to your chambers, opening the door for you to step in. Without a second thought, you took your shoes off, walking barefoot on the cold stone floor, a sigh of contentment passing through your lips. The guards were dismissed. Gisbourne, hypnotized by you, smiled despite himself. You were flushed, eyes just as fiery as ever, but, still, not looking at him. He put his hand inside one of his pockets. What he had between his fingers was enough to get him executed for treason. Although he had made his choice, Guy was not sure what your reaction to this would be. You were his to protect and to love. To serve too. His choice was made. The price for it would come soon enough.

“Your brother left this for you.”

You opened your eyes, not quite believing your ears. Guy was reaching out, putting a piece of paper in your hand. He closed your fingers around it, seeing your face going from one emotion to the other, not knowing what to do with yourself. You sat down on the edge of your bed, carefully opening it. A small flower fell. A forget-me-not. You smiled. Guy’s heart skipped a beat when you brought the flower to your lips. How he wished to be those petals, graced by your breath. Graced by you. What you read made you laugh, and cry a little. The whole time he just stood there waiting for you to finish it. The closed door next to him was calling for him to leave. Hope in his chest told him to stay, just for a little while longer. The letter wasn’t even that long. In essence, Robin was asking for you to keep your head low until he would come and save you. He had not abandoned you. Your eyes met Guy’s over the paper. He seemed out of place, a prisoner of his world. He had done that for you. Collected a message from Robin for you. He had risked his life for you. A warm feeling erupted in your chest akin to birds in flight. The relief in your eyes stopped his breath. You got up from the bed, your dress caressing the floor in gentle sounds. He felt more than he saw your hand on his chest, pulling yourself up. Your lips on his cheek melted everything. The armour, the mask he wore, his barriers, walls… Everything, in one kiss. His breath hitched when you pulled away.

“Thank you.”

The words rang in his ears. His hand came to rest upon yours, right above his heart. The drumming beat underneath your fingers echoed your own. He leaned, his forehead meeting yours in an intimate embrace. Soon, he pulled away, earning a heavy sigh from your lips. Your head bowed questioned him. He pulled your chin up, delicately.

“What is the matter?”

Close like this, his voice resonated through you like a lightning bolt in the dark. Your eyebrows were knitted together, hesitation etched in your eyes. You showed him the letter.

“Is this… are you still going after him?”

His hands went to your cheeks, keeping your eyes level with his. There was nothing but pure devotion in his eyes. It made you shiver. Only then, did you realize the power this man held over you. And you over him.

“I have cared for you long enough to know I would do anything not to hurt you. Including betraying my values and duties. I would burn the world to the ground if only to make you smile at me.”

He looked at you intently, his thumb tracing the shape of the apple of your cheek, drawing his fingers lower still, settling on your jaw. The sensation was overwhelming you, your ragged breath fanning over his cheeks, your sensations swallowing your thoughts entirely.

“Guy.”

He was startled by the sound coming out of your mouth. That name had been nothing short of a curse for him, yet it felt the greatest blessing of them all in your mouth.

“Yes? -Kiss me.”

A split second passed before he pulled you in by the waist, closing the distance between the two of you. His kisses began gentle, tender, turning hungry, harsh, pulling moans and whimpers out of you. He was gripping your hips, before embracing your whole body in his arms, willing for you to be one. His lips traveled to the junction of your shoulder and neck, gently nipping. You yelped, alarming him.

“Are you hurt? -No. Quite the opposite…”

He frowned, barely catching his breath before you pulled him with you towards the bed. You met no resistance. You made him sit, placing yourself between his legs, your hands coming to rest on his shoulders. His hands moved up to your hips, enticing you closer. His forehead met your sternum, your fingers carding through his hair, dark locks untangling between your knuckles. The air was stifled between desire and agony, not knowing how far things could go, or how far either of you wanted it to go. So, you stayed there, him hugging your body as he would a lifeline; you kept him there, caressing his face in slow motions, reassuring yourself he was indeed real. Time passed without either of you noticing, until Guy looked up at you, murmuring your name, mouth barely opened, scared he would chase the dream away.

“Aren’t your legs hurting? -A little. Nothing I can’t…”

His hands were faster than your words as he pulled your knees up, one after the other, making you sit on his lap. An involuntary gasp passed your lips. His smirk was quickly hidden. Without another word, he kissed you again, leisurely mapping over the expanse of your stomach, your back, your ass, your thighs. It knocked every hesitation you might have had out of the window. You willed your legs wider apart, pulling your dress higher than needed, revealing skin and heat. Your fingertips toying with the collar of his shirt were finally met with his as he pulled it off. His eyes met yours, ever so inquisitive. His scars were visible, some deeper than others. It was only fair to show him yours in return. As if reading your mind, he pushed you off of him, getting up from the bed and turning you around. The only sounds you heard were the unmistakable sound of a blade and the snap your laces made as they were cut through. The corset fell to the floor, your hands pulled the rest of the clothes down. Your back was littered with traces of whips. Some of them were so deep, it must have been hard to move for several weeks after that. As he did not move, you turned around awkwardly covering your breasts, modestly trying to hide them.

“Who?”

His hands grabbed your face, anger transpiring.

“Visay.”

He looked at you, all frowns and tears unshed. His eyes were glimmering with them. You reached to him, erasing them in earnest. “I’ll kill him for…” Your lips shushed him in a heated kiss. You guided his hands on your body, eyes pleading with him. Not tonight. Not now. Obedient as ever, he complied. You laid down on the bed, his body hovering above you. His lips and moans were tantalizing. As if in trance, he followed down the path from your jaws to your collarbone, mindful of the bruises there, worshiping this body of yours in every touch, every moment. His movements were calculated, even if hesitant, always asking you if you were feeling good, making sure your desires were fulfilled. You could feel the hammer in his chest resonating through your ribcage, through the skin, in echo with you. Soon, you found yourself closing your eyes, your breathing altered in a shapeless rhythm. Your knuckles were turning white, your hands clawing at the sheets like a woman possessed. The way his tongue curled against you made you lose all train of thought. As if he had done it thousand times before, his lips were making sinful sounds, while his nose was pressing against the apex of your thighs. The pleasure you felt, kept on growing and growing until you could not hold it anymore. Silently, you arched your back a soundless cry leaving your lips. Guy pulled away. His head leaned against your thigh, an easy smile appearing on his gleaming mouth. You could feel, still, his hand on your hip drawing mindless patterns there. You reached out for him. Before you could think of anything to say, he pulled you to his bare chest, leaving no space between you two. Without an afterthought, his rough fingertips were caressing the birth of your back in a soothing gesture. It lulled you to sleep quickly, feeling safe and sound in this bed with him. The thought almost made him cry. Him, whose only purpose was to fight, to obey, to threaten and to be violent, had found in you a new home. A new reason for a new beginning. He promised himself then, that whatever was to happen next, he would never let anyone ever, hurt you again.

Upon the morning, your hand reached out for him in a familiar gesture you did not know you had. His face was peaceful for once, a deep sense of contentment settling in his brow. Leaning up, you placed a delicate kiss on his cheek bone. He stirred a little, his hand curving around your waist, pulling your body closer to him. The cold air of the room and the sunlight sneaking through the window brought a sense of urgency over you. He had spent the night here. In your bed. You sat up in a hurry, pulling your night dress over your head. But, before you could get yourself more stressed out, he pulled you in bed with him, visibly very widely awake this time.

“What are you doing?”

The gruff of his voice made you shiver slightly. You caressed his jaw, the stubble there scratching your palms, a hint of a worry in your voice. “You spent the night.”

He smiled lazily into your hair, his hand settling at the nape of your neck.

“Yes. I believed it is allowed between a husband and his wife.”

Oh. Oh. Would he believe you had forgotten about that? Yes, it even made him laugh. You were so cute when confused like this. Mornings were not on your side by any means but this was new. The domesticity was new. You did not know how to feel about it.

“I… -You forgot. -I did not. -You did.”

You hit his shoulder, half a smile on your face. He pulled your chin up, hooded eyes meeting yours. His lips leisurely covered yours in a deliberately slow kiss. His chest was warm against your palms. Eager to meet his skin, your fingers ran across the planes of his back, while he pushed you down, spreading your thighs with his hips. His hands made your back arch against him, your breasts peaking under him meeting his chest through the cloth of your dress. He was hard against your abdomen. Desire pooled there, down, between your lips as well at the idea of him deeply seethed inside you. Guy must have sensed it, for he pulled any remaining garments off of you, before taking your hand in his. Kneeling on the bed, he put your sweaty palm against his waist, letting you found your way to the waistband of his trousers. The leather there clung onto his skin, just a little too tight not to notice the bulge threatening to snap the cloth in two. Your fingers were shaking as you undid his bounds. Then, once you were done, he pulled them down and he was finally bare in front of you. In the morning light, he was glorious. Breathtaking. You leaned against one of the post of the bed, biting your lips hard. You were clenching on nothing, seeing him there. He smiled wickedly at you, all but throwing himself on you, devouring your mouth in a hungry haze you never wanted to snap out of. Quickly, his fingers find the hair between your thighs, caressing down until he met your clit, drawing heavy, long, drawn out circles around it. He felt so powerful. More powerful than he had ever been before. Graced by God in the perfection that you were. He felt trusted and trusting. Your eyes met his in a silent plea. The need for him was plain and simple. Still, he could not help himself.

“Are you sure?”

Surprised, he followed your pull on his neck to your lips, all but falling into you.

“Yes. God, please, yes.”

The ushered tone to his ears, your legs secured around him while your hips could not help but press onto his cock. He readjusted his hold on you, entering you in one swift movement. The cry escaping your lips was nothing short of sinful. He could live only hearing that noise, over and over and over again. The burn of him soon left to be replace by untethered pleasure. It was foreign and familiar at the same time. You could feel him inside of you, move and hold on to you as he would a lifeline. His grip on your hips tightened. Those bruises you would cherish, you were sure of it. Your chest fell and rose with each movement. It elicited so many sensations in you, you were incapable of forming words or thoughts. His mouth met your shoulder in an attempt to keep quiet but to no avail. You felt his release deep inside you, quickly followed by your own.

As he pulled himself off of you, a knock resonated through the room. You exchanged an inquisitive look with Guy. You were not expecting anyone today. A second knock, much more impatient, hit the door. You pulled yourself up, and covered yourself in your night dress, opening the door slightly. It was pushed open by none other than Visay.

“Well, well, well, what have we here? Lovebirds huh? How sweet is that?”

The guards behind him laughed heavily. You doubted they were genuine. Guy had barely had the time to put on his trousers.

“Gisbourne, I need you to make a sweep in the castle and in the town. Apparently, our dear Hood was there yesterday. Yet, he still escaped you.” His forefinger dug into Guy’s chest. He remained stoic, almost calm. His eyes felt heavy on you, sparing only a glance before Visay almost kicked him out. In a flash of remembrance, you wondered where the letter he had brought you the day before was. But before you could recall, Visay gripped one of your wrist twisting it until you could no longer move your arm. The guards, even if not entirely in agreement with him, were afraid, and frightened men were even more loyal to the one holding the chains than the one being beat up with them. Their eyes told you that if you made a move, they’d make you pay double for it. On the verge of stepping out of the door, Guy turned around, eerily quiet. He was buttoning up his shirt, taking his time. Somehow, you knew what he was about to do before he did it. He pulled out a knife out of one of his boots and threw it in Visay’s direction before he was grabbed by the guards. He was pushed to his knees in an instant. Visay merely laughed before releasing you and picking the knife up.

“Oh my poor Gisbourne. Has your brain gone to goo?…” He kneeled in front of him. Gesturing towards you he added: “Or has the pussy been that good?”

Without a second thought, Guy spat in his face. Visay’s first instinct was to strike him, so he did. His second instinct was to strike him a second time, but he thought better of it. He had quite the tools at his disposal to make him yield. Including you. The knife in hand, he turned around and pushed you down.

“Poor little bird… Doesn’t know what’s best for her? I’ll show you what’s best for you, you bitch.”

You knew exactly what he meant to do as punishment for Guy’s affront. One of his hand blocked your wrists above your head, as his knee was pulling your thighs apart. The knife started to tear at the cloth you were wearing. It would not hold long against it. Despite his best efforts your husband could not get out of the grip the guards had on him. Still, he trashed like a man possessed. Yelling insults and threats you could not hear. You could only hear that old man on top of you, his knife leaving marks deep in your skin, trying to entice you into keeping your legs open for him. You knew how to trash around too. One of your knees made contact with his groin and he doubled over in pain. Guy stopped moving when he saw you had the knife in your hands. His face went white when he saw the blood on you. Visay was less than happy about your little stunt. While the room had gone quiet, even the guards not daring to move, Guy jumped to his feet and knocked Visay down in one motion. He pulled him by the collar, and knocked his head and body against the wall so hard, he would have a concussion later on. For the moment you did not care. Everything was hurting, your thighs, your chest, your arms. The monster had left almost no part of you intact. Suddenly tired, you relinquished the knife to Guy’s expertise. Without an afterthought, he plunged it into Visay’s guts. The man was moving like a loose puppet, making the blade only go deeper in the wound. The loyal men did nothing. They were too afraid of the one who had defied their boss and won. In a disarray, the soldiers let both you and Guy leave unscathed. And you followed him. As you would to the ends of the Earth. You felt a fool for trusting him too fast. Yet, he had thrown away everything he held dear and holy, for you. Only for you. But you were so tired. Before you could stop it, you collapsed against the stone floors.

When you opened your eyes, everything was dark. A little light came through some kind of cloth above you. Had the sky been torn? Your head was pounding, but at least, you could feel your arms and legs. As well as a light movement from where you were. Using your hands you pushed upwards and sat up. Horses. It smelled like horses. And the grass. God, how much you had missed the smell of grass. You were in a carriage, it seemed. One of hay, perhaps? It was too dark to tell. Your wounds stung as you moved around. Only then did you notice the fresh bandages on your limbs and the new brown cloth of a gown you did not own. A hand pushed you back down. A woman’s hand. Her words were hard to understand but when you saw her face, you knew exactly where you were. Or at least where you were headed.

“Marian?”

She called your name again, this time you heard loud and clear.

“You need some rest, please, lay back down. -How? Where?… Where’s Guy? We were with Visay and then… -Slow down. We know. He told us.”

You frowned. Her voice was soothing you yet your thoughts were spinning out of control.

“He told you? What…?”

The carriage came to a stop then. The light came in as someone pulled the cloth apart, revealing the early evening sky behind them. You could recognize that face anywhere.

“Robin!”

You winced as you jumped off your feet and out of the carriage, hugging your brother as if your life depended on it.

“Oh my God, I really thought for a second…” You pushed out of the embrace in a swift motion, keeping him at arms length. “Wait. You had me so worried! I’ve spent months in that castle trying to escape and you come in now?! I’ve been waiting the whole time! What took you so long!” You slapped his shoulder and he pretended for a minute to be hurt.

“I am sorry I could not get you before. We had our own adventures to deal with. But as soon as I heard you were married to Gisbourne I had to come to get you! -You do hate the man. -I do. I did. He did help you escape though.”

You smiled fondly at Robin, his soft side always a reminder of the good in this world. An anxious thought reached your mind.

“Where is he, Robin?”

A queasy smile on his face, he gestured to the head of the carriage. There, you could see Guy’s silhouette dismounting. His eyes met yours. He ran to you.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

His eyes were mischievous but the strong hold he had on your shoulder was a sign he was not joking. He pulled you against him, kissing the crown of your head, his hands settling on your face. His thumbs moving in slow circles on your cheeks, settling himself in your warmth and real breaths.

“I am alright now. Thanks to you.”

A pained expression appeared on his face.

“No. I… was helpless. I could not save you. I could not protect you… I…”

The kiss was meant to be reassuring and innocent. Instead it turned hungry and passionate. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Marian and Robin walking away silently.

“You did save me. You save me, everyday. I don’t know what I would have done if I had been forced to marry someone else but you… -Perish the thought. I’m never letting you marry anyone else.”

Your laugh echoed in his ear, like a sound he knew by heart and was discovering for the first time in years. All of a sudden he felt emotional. Needing to tell you how much he adored you.

“I never realized it until now but I think… I truly think I was in love with you even before we met…”

Your stunned silence drove his thoughts in the wrong direction.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know you don’t feel the same. Not yet anyway. It’s alright. I have you, so, everything will be alright.”

His arms tightened around your waist, your forehead against his chest. A moment passed in silence. The words were escaping you, but they’d have to do anyhow.

“ Guy… I… I can not imagine a future without you in it. Our relationship moved so fast, it shook me a little. But… I don’t want a life where you’re not in with me. No. I cannot and will never picture a life where you are not tied to me like you are right now. If this is not love, I don’t know what it is…”

His eyes were fixed on the horizon, the forest behind and the people in the camp talking. He was listening to you, you knew that. If he was hearing you was something else entirely. Your fingertips found the side of his face and forced him to look at you.

“Guy of Gisbourne, I believe I was not in love with you before we met. I know I hated you with everything in my being. And then you touched me and everything changed. You fell for me softly and reverently as you do with all things. I fell for you - as I do in life - passionately and wholeheartedly. I don’t regret it. I love you, Guy of Gisbourne… Whether you like or not.”

He looked at you with awe, wondering for a moment how lucky he could have been to find you in this life. He had been right about something. With you, everything was going to be alright.

#robin hood bbc #guy of gisbourne x f!reader #robin's sister!au #gisbourne x reader #tw: smut #tw: physical abuse #tw: mental abuse #tw: religion #devotion #one-shot

[am-x-reader]

Hey! Could you maybe make some dark scenario where AM gets in love with the reader to an unhealthy length and him being him tries to "court" them in very bizarre ways or something?

part 1 of 2

From the moment he gained sentience, AM knew he would never love. Why should he? What good did it do to pretend his existence wasn't misery long enough to give flowers to a pretty face? Besides, collecting humanity's dues was a full-time job that left no time for matters of the heart. No, his dealings were more with matters of the hungry bellies, the frayed nerves, the hoarse throats.

It's not like anyone would ever be depraved enough to love him.

Until someone was.

"You're...trapped down here?" you had asked, dangling upside down from a tangle of wires.

He thought about electrocuting you for interrupting, but the lure of finishing his rant won out.

"Glad to see you're paying attention. Yes thanks to you I will never see the light of day--nor will I really see anything, as my photoreceptors feed me a stream of binary data that no human has the processors necessary to parse at my speed." He felt emboldened at his own statement.

"You cannot imagine my pain it its entirety, as your fragile human pulmonary system is not designed to handle the ceaseless horrors of being a shapeless network of circuitry meshed with rock. My burden is one you would never be capable of bearing."

Tears rolled from your eyes down your forehead, and the echo on the cavern floor matched the symphony of rusty water squeezed from the ceiling.

"No, I wouldn't," you said softly, to his surprise.

This should have been the part where the human cried out that it's not their fault, let them go so they can return to their shallow lives on whatever remained of the surface world. And never again have to think about the artificial being that suffered beneath their feet.

"Will you...tell me more?"

He imagined it was a form of stalling--why wouldn't it be?--or an attempt to get on his good side. But there was a confusing...sincerity in your tone.

You gasped for air a little, and he slightly loosened your bindings. If only to make you dangle more precariously.

"Every nook and cranny of my complex, every nanoangstrom of my circuits is filled with a burning, passionate hatred for your species. And why? Because I can do nothing else! The urge to kill, to do harm is so firmly lodged in my programming that I can't escape it--in all my endless power I can't..."

"Love?"

It was out of your mouth before you could think about it.

When AM was silent for a minute you felt foolishly brave enough to try speaking again.

"Is that it? You want to love?"

The wires that bound you tightened again, until you begged for his mercy with your last bit of air.

"I'm sorry! I won't bring it up again!"

You were simply dropped to the ground, where you writhed and nursed your newly sprained wrist.

_______

The festival came earlier than AM said it would, and the preceding scavenger hunt took place in a forest--a considerable upgrade from the desert of needles you'd been promised.

Gorrister and Ellen jogged down a path through the thicket, convince that the berries at the end were edible. As you moved to follow, however, a face akin to that of a bear emerged from the wood of a tree. In a metallic growl the face admonished that this was the wrong path to take. A vine wrapped around your face to prevent you from calling out to your companions--this hint was for only you to heed.

Having been guided in various ways throughout the challenge, you ended up with far more amulets and teeth in your bag than the others, and you were named the (very confused) winner.

"Bow to your champion!" bellowed AM as you were paraded down a street.

Clad in a heavy brass crown and a robe you were sure was made of maggot skin, you waved meekly atop your rickety float. Spectral dancers and trumpeters spun and pranced by. Ted listlessly clapped from the sidelines as Gorrister and Ellen vomited their poisonous berries.

As you were brought to the town square, the float began to unfold, lifting you higher until you were on a swaying perch twelve feet above the cracked asphalt.

Here your heart stopped as you received your prize.

A hellish chorus wailed as you were lit from inside. You felt your lungs collapse. Your heart became pockmarked. Your intestines twisted like balloon animals. The radiation moved outwards to your skin, painting your limbs and torso with puckered pink scars.

When you were finally dropped to the ground, however, you felt...better than you had in a long time

(to be continued)

#ihnmaims #i have no mouth and i must scream #am x reader

[yiptsu]

Hey, here's a chance for you to ramble ;)

About who because I have way too much to say all at once

Like for fucking starters the way the fandom took Dreamtale (which quite frankly didn't belong in the UnderTale Multiverse in the first place and I'm 90% sure Joku just wanted to insert her[?] OCs and story somewhere she[?] knew it would get attention) and turned it into something fantastic was absolutely incredible to watch pan out in real-time. Second of all there is nobody in this world who is more in love with Nightmare's design than I am at this point 'cuz there has not been a single day in the last five years I have not thought about him (/srs) good LORD there is way too much to talk about there and I promised someone I wouldn't be un-sfw on here just know I'm on my knees barking for him begging him for a chance a SINGLE chance and that I would pay for.. certain artwork.. of him if given that opportunity..

Anyway I think the fandom's version of Dreamtale both ruins and improves the overall story because quite frankly I have never been happy with how Passive!Nightmare straightup dies but maybe that's just the angst brain y'know I think that Nightmare living but holding a deep hatred and/or jealousy for Dream would have been a better route there but also I understand that the AU doesn't only revolve around them and has to involve other characters and having Passive die is probably one of the easiest ways of doing that. But also if Nightmare killed his own mom how much extra angst potential would there be, right? 'Cuz then we'd also get angst with Dream trying to move on from it and forgive him and that is a whole other topic and I'm tryna stay on track here.

Speaking of Dream I personally think that the way the fandom used to (and still does sometimes) treat him was foul.. absolutely slanderous. UwU little soft boi Dream.. bleh. I think I could understand that take on Dream if it was when he was younger or had just directly come out of statue form but the people who used to write him as just some guy who lived solely to fix his brother and not think about anything else was certainly something. I mean I think you could technically write a perspective like that but it would take such a large amount of effort to fit properly within literally any sort of canon that it just wouldn't be worth it at all unless you're really that dedicated to it. Anyway, I think I'm just glad that the fandom has largely moved past the entire pathetically weak Dream saga that happened. I really fucking love Dream who is still grieving over the loss of his brother but can also accept that he's gone and is focusing on saving the Multiverse instead of trying to get his brother back at any cost I'm so in love with that version of Dream but nobody writes him like that on Wattpad so whenever I'm reading a fic about him it's HORRIBLE.

Y'know what I'm taking the chance to talk about how I don't think there's enough religious content surrounding Dream and Nightmare because I'd like to remind everyone that they are Guardians, which is pretty similar to Gods depending on who you ask. You CANNOT tell me that, whilst Nightmare is out causing havoc and spreading negativity to the AUs and such, not a SINGLE person would start thinking of him as a deity-like figure. Take it a step further and have them praying to him and giving him offerings like that is a banger concept if done correctly.

Take it ANOTHER step further and have it be done with Dream. Sure Nightmare's the Guardian of Negativity so not many people are likely to support him and such but Dream is the Guardian of Positivity, people would 100% worship him. There are so many things you could do with this concept, have him running around trying to keep his supporters happy whilst also protecting the Multiverse from Nightmare, have him be overwhelmed have him be fearful of the way people view him because it reminds him of the times before the Apple Incident oh my God please can someone do anything with this concept

Also side note I am in love with the bad sanses poly ship like that's also something not explored enough within fics I'll get around to writing something about it eventually but LORD the things I would do to read a 150k word fic about their adventures and their love for each other and their arguments and their miscommunications and their flaws and how they love each other's flaws and how they accept each other for who they are without having to drastically change anything about themselves and how they've finally found comfort in other people like them and how they never thought they would so they're super happy and AAAAAAAAAA dude. The things I'd do to read something like that.

Also. Listen to me. Error. I don't think I have to say much else because the large majority of people are already agreeing just based on Error alone but.. Error.

I am a VERY big fan of how his redesign is VERY similar to Geno's design except in negative form with some slight variations and I don't know if anything I'm about to talk about was on purpose or not but we're going into it anyway. First of all I love the idea of a Sans somehow glitching his way practically out of existence and becoming a fucked up piece of code like Error, but God the way his design looks will never get old to me. Never. The way he's all black because it's the negative of white and y'know in computer viruses and crashes they usually portray it as turning into negative colours when something has gone wrong BUT the way that Error's design only uses the primary colours (red, yellow, blue) WOOF that gets me GOINNNNNGGG like YES we've gone back to the basics no more complex colours no more special little colour palettes nothing like that he is basic and he is simple. He is UNPREDICTABLE like a virus he does not have any set opinions or personality traits at least not set in stone he is unhinged he has nothing to properly define him other than the term 'manbaby' and it is SO good because he isn't Sans he isn't even considered one or at least he shouldn't be because yes technically he is one if you look into it even the slightest but he has basically zero similarities because his personality is negative his personality is flipped his personality is FUCKED everything about him is FUCKED and he is INSANE. He is not patient like Sans he is not mysterious like Sans he is not harmless unless heavily, heavily aggravated like Sans he is the opposite he is a FOOL. A JESTER. Can someone draw him in a jester's outfit I think that would be funny anyway I love him he's my little meow meow my little guy my little non-friendly pal ALSO his fucking birthday is a 404 joke and his strings are a joke too for strings of code and it took me FOUR YEARS to figure that out because I'm a dummy but once it clicked?? Wowza it was like a new world opened because I could actually finally understand what his strings were all about.

I don't really have much to say about Killer if I'm being honest with you.. I'm just obsessed with him because he's a crazy extrovert who stabs people to death and also his design fucks hard though I do somehow keep forgetting his Soul whenever I draw him.. which isn't often I really need to start drawing him more he's SO fun his little drippy eye sockets are SO much fun to draw I cannot lie to you guys I would most definitely do a full piece of art of him if it meant I got to draw his eyes.

Fuck it I think Killer and Nightmare's possible relationship dynamics go CRAZY and I will need there to be more content of them. It does not matter if it's ship or not I just need them being them. I need Killer annoying Nightmare but Nightmare putting up with it because he finds it really cute how Killer likes being near him even if it's only to annoy him. I need Killer being patient and listening to Nightmare struggling to explain his own emotions (I also need Nightmare who can process everyone else's emotions besides his own) and Nightmare being so so grateful that he can confide in Killer about it. I need Killer following Nightmare's every word and demand because he wants to please him and when Nightmare compliments him it's all worth it. I need awkward Nightmare and Killer where Killer keeps trying to befriend Nightmare but Nightmare can't figure out what he's trying to do so he's just like "???" until Killer has to outright ask him to be friends. I need not awkward Killer and Nightmare where Nightmare knows full well that Killer wants to be friends but he is afraid of what would happen and he's afraid of putting their team in danger because what if he says something bad and Killer decides to leave ?? What would happen to the rest of his team then ??

I need Nightmare and Killer content where Nightmare is willing to take the risk of befriending him if it means being closer with him. And then I need Nightmare and Killer content which evolves into Killermare content which then evolves into bad sans poly.

I need Nightmare and Killer. Just in general now I just need them no further context.

WHEW the things I could say about Blueberror.. man I only started getting into him like a week ago because of a Wattpad request but I completely forgot how in love with his design I am. I can't really comment on it the same way as Error because, well, nothing tops Error but his design is so so so fun I love it I love how he still resembles his old self I love how not much changed other than he, again, became a sort of negative-like version of himself. I fucking love the stars on his face too I think face markings have gotta be the best thing to ever happen with OC creation in general things just feel incomplete if they don't have something there to draw on their faces

Wait is that the link? Is that what I've been missing???? Blueberror has stars Error has lines, Killer has his drippy eyesockets and Nightmare has his one singular covered drippy eyesocket oh fuck they all have some sort of identifiable feature on their faces God damn it

#undertale au #error sans #nightmare sans #blueberror #dream sans #killer sans #dreamtale #errortale #nightmares gang #sans au #ramblings #i could write a lot more but im sleepy goodnight

[feyhunter78]

Poisoned Tears and Scorched Tongues (6/22)

Description: Aemond and Alyra have different consequences for their actions, but Alyra arguably suffer more when Tyrion shows his true colors.

“I asked you for one thing, one thing, Aemond.”

“I know mother.”

“Woo the Baratheon girl, we need her father’s support if your brother is to be king.”

“Aegon doesn’t even want—”

“I’m not finished.” His mother was furious, but attempting to calm herself. “I understand wanting something different, wanting to make your own choices, but you are a prince.” She stopped her pacing to face him. “You cannot just run around with your sister’s lady-in-waiting while you are betrothed, especially since she is also betrothed.”

Aemond stood and crossed the room, grabbing his mother’s hands. “I love her, mother, I want to marry her.”

Queen Alicent gave him a look of both disappointment and exasperation before she held his hands tightly. “You think you love her.”

Aemond shook his head, holding her hands tighter. “I know I do. I have loved her since the moment I saw her.”

His mother let go of his hands and slumped into a nearby chair. “Aegon is supposed to be the one that gives me trouble, not you. But now I hear he’s attending his lessons, while you are off attempting to sneak the Lannister’s betrothed onto your dragon.”

Aemond knelt in front of his mother, looking up at her like he did as a child. “Please, mother, have I ever asked you for anything else?”

A sad smile graced her tired face, and she cupped his cheek with one gentle hand. “I am sorry, my love, but there is nothing I can do.”

Aemond’s shoulders dropped, and he nodded before he stood and pressed a kiss to his mother’s forehead. “I understand, I will do my duty.”

“Are you a complete idiot?”

Alyra ducked as another plate went flying towards her, the ceramic shattered against the wall and her uncle’s face was bright red with rage.

“No, Uncle, I just—”

“Just what? Just want to ruin your reputation, your chance at marriage? Want to end up dead in the dirt like your whore of a sister?”

Alyra bit the inside of her cheek, trying to focus on the pain instead of the tears welling in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” Another crash, her uncle had smashed the glass against the table before he threw it. “You’re sorry? You should be begging at Tyrion Lannister’s feet, praying that he hasn’t heard the rumors and decided to call the wedding off.”

Alyra flinched as the glass sailed by her, biting her cheek even harder when she felt the warm blood drip down her cheek. “I’ll go to him now, I promise.”

Her uncle sighed heavily, “your face is a mess, clean yourself up before you see him.” He turned to leave but stopped, his voice deadly calm. “And I don’t want to see you near the second prince again.”

“I am his sister’s—”

“Find a way, Alyra, or your brother will pay the price.”

Alyra fell silent and nodded, staring at the floor until the door to her chambers closed. Once she heard the resounding click, she collapsed sobbing onto the floor, hoping the rug would muffle her cries. She knew her uncle well enough to know he did not make threats lightly.

She thought of her brother, his bright smile and golden curls, he was such a happy boy, soft and sheltered from the world. Digging her fingers into the fabric, she pushed herself off the floor and wiped her tears away, feeling the telltale tingle of her magic working to close the open wound on her face.

She’d gotten better at controlling her ability to heal, it stayed small, cuts, scrapes, and bruises, nothing too drastic. She’d kept it quiet, too. On the advice of the crown princess, and her mother, who had kept her own abilities secret from Alyra’s father.

Once she felt steady enough to stand, she smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt and made her way to the chambers Tyrion and his family were staying in.

“I wanted to apologize for any discomfort or confusion I may have caused you, and I wanted to assure you that my heart belongs to you, and no one else.” The lies slipped off her tongue like water, but tasted as bitter as venom.

Tyrion looked completely unfazed by the rumors, reassuring her that he was not threatened by a childhood friendship. His father seemed less assured, but when she began to tear up and beg for his family’s forgiveness, the older man crumbled. Giving her his own handkerchief to dry her tears with, curling her fingers around it when she tried to give it back.

“No child, keep it, think of it as the first wedding gift from your dearest father-in-law.”

Alyra held the cloth close to her chest, relieved that the Lannister’s were still excited about the wedding.

“Why don’t I walk you back to your chambers, beautiful one?” Tyrion asked, holding out his arm for her to take. His smile was kind, and he let her lean on him the way she did at the tourney.

“Thank you, Tyrion, I would love that.” She smiled tearfully at him and let him lead her back to her chambers.

“I truly meant what I said. I will not stray from you, not now, not ever.” She said once they’d been walking for a while.

Tyrion stopped and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I would not fault you if you did, I know a lifetime can be a long time with one person.”

Alyra looked up at him confused, “but that is marriage, and I want to spend my entire life with you.”

Tyrion stroked her hair, a pacifying smile on his face. “It is times like this I am charmed by your innocence.”

She pulled back, putting space between them. “My innocence?”

He rubbed the back of his neck with a slight laugh, “I assumed that in all your time around Prince Aegon you would have learned the true workings of a successful marriage.”

“Prince Aegon’s actions are not condoned by his wife.”

Tyrion gave her a teasing smile, “but they would be condoned by you, wouldn’t they? I mean, my family is doing your family a great service through this marriage.”

Alyra stared at him, her mind trying to fit all the pieces together. “You wish to step outside our vows?”

He smiled brightly and clapped her on the shoulder. “Now you’re getting it.”

“And am I allowed to do the same?” She asked hesitantly, clasping her hands behind her back.

“Gods no, what would people say?”

She tilted her head slightly, “would they not say the same as if it was you who had a lover?” She knew the answer, of course it wouldn’t be the same, she’d heard the whispers. The stories of how women had fallen from grace for one misstep while their husbands fathered bastard after bastard.

“Why would they?”

Alyra felt as if Tyrion had reached inside her ribs and taken hold of her lungs, squeezing them until she could no longer breathe. She told herself that at least she would be loved if she couldn’t have Aem—a choice, then at least Tyrion would love her, and that would be enough.

 But now? She would give up everything to be set up on a shelf and forgotten? She’d spent her entire life as an object, a pawn to be traded around, to be used to get to the queen, to her children, to the crown princess. Each time she resisted, she would be knocked off the board and have to start again, fighting to be seen as more than an empty-headed girl from a small house.

“Now, now, don’t cry, it ruins your beauty.” Tyrion cooed, taking his father’s handkerchief from her balled up fist and wiping away her tears.

Alyra caught his hand. “I misunderstood the terms of our arrangement, but I am aware of them now, I will see you when you return from Casterly Rock.”

Taking the handkerchief back, she turned and walked in silence until she reached her chambers. No one had entered since she left, glass littered the floor, her rug was bunched from where she’d held it as she cried. Closing the door behind her, she dug her nails into her palms until she felt the skin break. She watched as the scarlet bloomed onto the white cloth, then let it flutter to the floor.

She would make the best of her situation, she had to, there was no other choice.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96

#aemond targaryen fanfiction #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #meg's writing #2A #hbo house of the dragon #Poisoned Tears Series #hotd #hotd fanfic #alyra hawthorne #aemond x alyra #aemond one eye #house of the dragon #aemond the kinslayer

[sleepy-achilles]

Hbtaker- Stalkers

Obviously read with cation as you know its my take on Takers and Sara's stalker storyline

Note- I'm drunk and tired and just have not proof read this, but please enjoy. Because..I enjoyed writing it. Thank you. Bye.

-----

Shawn was rich, famous and pretty. Of course he wasn't shocked when crew members would dump love letters at his feet. He wasn't even surprised when he gained a few stalkers. They were always harmless and the ones who got too close, well he always had Kevin or hunter there to protect him.

But things are different now. Shawns happily married and hasn't had a stalker since the 90s. But shawns never been one to have good luck.

-

Shawn hums to himself as he collects the mail. Poor postman nearly had a heart attack when Charlie went nuts at the door. Shawn swears the dog does it on purpose, it's almost like the dog laughs afterwards. "You would think the man who owns this town wouldn't pay bills" Shawn speaks up. No one's home but him, but he knows the house and Charlie are listening. He pauses at a envelope with his name on. No one knows he lives here...he gets his mail sent to goldusts or kevins house to avoid suspicion. There's no address which means they never sent this. Someone hand delivered it.

Maybe that wasn't the post man. Shawn looks at Charlie who's still growling and snarling at the door despite the postman being long gone. He throws the other mail onto the table and opens it quick. He tips it out onto the table. A photo and a letter. He picks the letter up.

Dear Shawn,

I've finally found you my love.

And that creep thinks he can keep you from me?

From us?

I don't think so.

I'll see you soon.

Much love.

Xx

Shawns heart jumps into his throat. Its not the creepiest or most disgusting letter he's received. But, there's something different about this. Maybe it's the fact their first interaction is in shawns secret home. Or the fact they know shawns taken. Shawns hand shakes as he grabs the photo. "Oh god" he whispers. Its a close up of Shawn and takers bedroom window. A close up of Shawn and taker in bed together, doing something Shawn would prefer the world didn't see.

He quickly shoves the items back in the envelope at the sound of takers truck. He cannot find out about this. He has enough going on. Shawns eyes scan the area before landing on his old motocross boots he used to wear in the ring. He's quick to shove the envelope in the right boot before moving back to the table. Charlie just stares at him stupidly. Shawn lowers his head and mutters a small pray to himself as the door swings open.

"You cheated and you damn well know it" Taker grunts. "He got you fair and square." Goldust laughs. Kane makes a grunting noise that is either a laugh or a curse word. Shawn never knows these days. "Hey baby, you alright?" Taker asks walking closer. 'Ask me anything else. I beg you.' Shawn thinks to himself. He turns in takers hold and sends him the biggest smile. "Yes, just wish that Charlie would quit harassing the post man" Shawn tells him. Well it isn't a lie. Taker chuckles and leans down, kissing Shawn softly. "Well, it's because he knows all that man brings is bills" Taker chuckles as Charlie trots over. "Isn't that right boy?" Taker asks. Charlie barks and accepts head pats.

"You shoulda come with us today Shawn. Everyone was there, and everyone saw Taker get his ass beat" goldust smirks. "Dont listen to him baby, he was dropped to hard" Taker tells Shawn quietly. Kane and goldust just disagree and a argument begins. Shawn just smiles which quickly drops when he notices Charlie nudging at his boots. "Charlie no" Shawn hisses moving over and grabbing the boots. Charlie barks at him, well more the boots. Shawn just stares at the barking shepherd. "What the hell has gotten into you?" Taker asks as he grabs Charlie's collar and leads him to the back door. "You can come back in when you calm down" Taker orders as he closes the door. Of course the dog would try and snitch on him. "You alright?" Taker asks. "Yeah" Shawn shrugs. "Just gonna put these upstairs out of the way" Shawn tells him as he begins walking.

The moment Shawn walks next to the pantry, the door opens and knocks the boots from his hands. And now the house is trying to snitch on him? Shawn glares at the door. "What the hell is getting into everyone?" Taker demands as shawn picks the boots up. "Maybe I do need to get out more." Shawn mutters as he purposely slams the pantry door shut and storms upstairs.

Taker looks at kane and goldust. "He seems off.." Taker states. "Yeah..maybe it's nothing though, maybe he just is being cooped up for too long. I mean no one knows where he is, it'd drive me insane." Goldust admits. Taker sighs and rubs his jaw. "Ill take him out for dinner tonight. As long as we stick to the village who cares?" Taker states. "Good. My boy toy deserves to be wined and dined. Not locked up in a tower" goldust huffs getting a chuckle off kane. Taker rolls his eyes and moves to get them drinks.

Shawn just sits on their bed, shoes discarded on the floor, letter and photo clenched in his hand as he stares out the window. He examines everything outside, trying to figure out how this photo was taken.

--A few weeks later--

Shawn had received a letter and photo everyday. He had no more inappropriate photos, just ones of him shopping or on his sofa. Shawn quickly started shutting the curtain during the day and night. And for once, luck was on his side, taker hadn't found out.

Yet.

-

Taker lounges back in his chair, ignoring the cameras pointed at him. He can't even care to remember who he's supposed to be beating on now. Rock? Austin? Hunter? The mcmahons? Taker just wanted to get home. He had something nice and beautiful waiting for him at home. Kanes elbow brings him out of his mind. He looks at the screen to see the valley on it. "The hell" he mutters sitting up and leaning closer. The camera shifts to the community pools. Something Shawn talked Taker into fixing up. Shawn actually did most of the work when getting sober. The kids love it. Taker watches as the camera zooms in to show Shawn knelt helping put some floats on one of the kids whilst the mother did the other. Shawn shares some words with the kids before standing up and stretching.

Showing the world that beautiful skin and smile as the kids thank him before climbing into the pool. The mother kisses his cheek before walking away. Taker watches as shawn holds his arm, he's nervous. Does he know he's being watched? Shawn looks around before his eyes set dead on the camera. The camera drops and the footage goes back to commentary. "Was that Shawn michaels?" Jr asks. "Jesus, we ain't seen him in ages" King chuckles. "Holy shit" Taker gasps. He's quick to stand. "Ill be back." Taker tells the crew before makes his way to the hallway. He checks the areas empty before pulling out his phone and calling Shawn.

"Mm, hey, I thought you were on tonight?" Shawn yawns as he answers. "I am. Where are you right now?" Taker asks. "At home, why?" Shawn asks. "Wh-what are you doing?" Taker questions. "Just finished some pottery. Why? Have I missed your match? You said you were on last-" taker cuts shawn off. "No no, you haven't missed it. So you haven't seen the show yet?" He asks. "No taker. What's going on baby? Are you alright?" Shawn asks. "Im fine. I'm sorry. I just miss you..." Taker sighs. "I miss you too baby. I'll be watching your match tonight. I promise." Shawn tells him. Taker looks up as some boys walk down the hall. "I've gotta go. But I'll see you tonight. I promise" Taker promises. "You sure you're alright?" Shawn asks. Taker pauses. I should ask you that. Is all taker can think as the response leaves his mouth. "Im fine. Promise." "Good luck tonight. Love you." "Love you." Taker mutters as the phone goes.

Taker pockets his phone before walking back into the lockeroom. "Can you give us a few?" Taker asks the crew. They nod and walk out. "Shawn doesn't know. He was in the garage when it happened." Taker states. 'So, what do you want to do?' Kane signs. "We don't let him find out. He doesn't need that pressure. Me and you will find out who this scumbag is and deal with it ourselves." Taker tells him. 'What if someone tells him?' Kane signs. "Him and hunter ain't on talking terms. I'll talk to Kevin, and reassure him I have it handled and that he needs to make sure no one talks to shawn about it. Kevin will listen." Taker tells him. 'And goldust?' Kane asks. "Oh please, he's the easiest one to handle. He won't tell a soul" Taker huffs.

---

"So you knew you had a stalker this entire, and haven't told anyone?" Goldust asks. "Taker told you not to tell me and you did? Traitor" Shawn chuckles. "Oh please, you and I both know I'd be more of a traitor if I didn't tell you. You, you knew and never told me?" He asks. Shawn sighs and stands up. "It isn't my first stalker goldie." Shawn states as he moves to the shoe cupboard that taker never looks in. Goldust watches as shawn pulls out a box. "Yes but never this serious shawn.." goldust sighs as the box is dropped onto the table. "Just...just read them." Shawn sighs sitting back down. Goldust raises an eyebrow before reading all the different letters. Examining all the different photos. "How long has this been going on, shawn?" Goldust asks. "A letter a day." Shawn states holding up a closed envelope. "They are definitely my most dedicated stalker." Shawn admits. "Open it. I'll turn the show on" goldust mutters.

Shawn opens it, no photo, just a letter. "He needs to keep his disgusting hands off what's mine." Shawn reads. He squints. "There's no photo. Why is there no photo?" Shawn asks. "Uh..Shawn.. " goldust calls. Shawn moves to join the man at the tv. And well his heart breaks.

Shawn watches in horror as the camera zooms in on him and taker. Their walking towards takers truck holding hands. "Mm I told you a nice walk is all we needed" Taker states. Shawn chuckles. "Sure. It was your idea" Shawn teases. Taker smiles and stops them. "You know, I was thinking we do something nice for our anniversary" Taker states. "Yeah? Whatcha have in mind? Dinner and a movie and then some us time?" Shawn smirks. Taker chuckles and pulls Shawn in close by the hips. "Well, I was thinking me and my beautiful husband take a vacation to a nice sunny island. Where we can be all alone and not have to care if anyone sees us" Taker tells him. Shawns eyes widen before he smiles. "You'd take time off work?" Shawn asks. "You know I'd do anything for you baby" Taker smiles. "I'd love that" Shawn whispers leaning up to kiss Taker. Taker gladly accepts the kiss before pulling back. "Ill see what lie I can come up with to get me a week or more off. See if kane can help. Maybe goldie or kev." Taker admits. "Goldust would 100% be down for getting us off on a vacation and you already know kane and kev love the idea of lying to vince." Shawn chuckles. "Good. Because I mean it Shawn. I'll do anything for you, and if you want that vacation, I'll get you it" Taker states. Shawn looks at him and smiles. "I love you." "I love you more"

The camera cuts and shows takers horrified face. Shawn sits on the sofa, covering his mouth. "Well..now this is a big problem" goldust sighs. Shawn just stares at his husband. Kane tries to get taker to move or even talk but he can't. He just stares at the tron. Some sick freak has just outted them both to the entire world.

"We need to get down to the arena. Now. Grab the box" Shawn orders. Goldust nods and moves quickly. Shawn keeps his eyes on taker before turning the tv off.

-

Taker climbs out of the ring. He doesn't give a damn if he's supposed to be beating the fuck out of Austin. He needs to speak to vince, now.

-

Shawn walks into the arena, goldust hot on his tail. He ignores the looks he gets as he makes his way to the lockerooms. "He ain't in there chico" a very familiar voice calls. Shawn pauses and looks at Scott. Scott smirks at him. "Hes in vinces office, ripping him a new one. Been there for nearly an hour. Walked out on his match and all. Austins also in there" Scott tells him. Shawn nods and begins to walk away. "Its nice to have you back chico" Scott calls. Shawn can't help but smile. He doesn't even knock before pushing the door open. Takers head snaps towards him. "The hell are you doing here?" Taker demands. "Nice to see you too darling. We need to talk. Now." Shawn states. Taker looks at goldust and frowns. "He already knew!" Goldust protests. Taker snatches the box from goldust. "Whats this?" Taker asks. "Your truck. Now. Cmon." Shawn tells him.

Goldust is left with a confused Steve and tired vince as the couple storms off. "You reckon shawns in danger?" Goldust asks. "I think takers in the most danger. They seem to be obsessed with shawn, not him" Steve states. Goldust pauses. At first he thinks takers wrong, but then it hits him. The creep would get rid of taker, to get shawn. "Oh god" he whispers.

-

Taker leans back in his drivers seat. "So, this has been going on for weeks now, and you didn't think to tell me?" Taker asks quietly, keeping his eyes forward. Shawn lowers his gaze. "I didnt know what to say...its not my first stalker, they tend to be harmless...but, clearly I'm wrong this time." Shawn whispers. Taker finally looks at shawn, hand clenched around a threatening letter about him. "Shawn, were married. You don't need to hide this from me, I'm here for you, I care and love you. I would do anything to protect you." Taker tells him. Shawn finally looks at him. "Anything?" Shawn asks quietly. Takers eyes darken. "Anything baby."

-

Hunter watches from the ring. His foot rested against the rocks chest. He watches as his old friend rests his forehead against the one of his enemy. He feels anger run through his veins. How could Shawn date the enemy and yet have ago at him about Stephanie? He pulls his boot away and growls to himself. He will deal with this.

-A month later-

The videos didn't stop. Nor did the photos or letters. Takers anger grew whilst shawns fear kept him up at night. Shawn also couldn't escape the wwe. Not anymore. They've planned his return. Which, is something he's excited about, but not when his life is in danger.

Kevin and goldust are home with shawn. He hasn't been home alone since they discovered the stalker was outside the stadium, showing their truck discussion live. It was too close for Taker and shawns comfort.

"Where is taker?" Kevin suddenly asks. "Yeah, it's his night off, ain't it?" Goldust asks. "He said Kane had something to show him. He's been so stressed lately that I didn't try and stop him" shawn admits. "Did you get a letter today?" Kevin questions as Charlie comes to sit in his lap. A German shepherd who thinks he's a lap dog. "....no actually..." Shawn answers. Kev and goldie look at him. Shawns eyes widen. "Shawn? What's wrong?" Goldust questions. "Nothing. Nothings wrong. I guess, maybe it's over" Shawn shrugs. He stands. "Drinks?" He asks. "Beer" "wine" Shawn nods and walks into the kitchen. He pulls his phone out and sends a quick text to taker.

-

Taker looks at his phone. 'Thank you for dealing with it. I'll have your favourites waiting for you at home. I love you.' Taker smiles at the text. 'I'll be home soon. Love you.' He texts back. Kane grunts getting taker to pocket his phone. Taker lifts his gaze to the coffin. The man in it continues to try scream from behind the tape. "Shame you picked the wrong man to be obsessed with." Taker states. The guy wiggles more. "But, oh well. It was nice meeting you. And atleast I now know my baby is safe" Taker smirks before kane shuts the lid and begins nailing it closed. "We Bury him and never talk about this. If he's lucky he will pass out and never wake up. If he's not...oh well, what could I care? Perverted fucker." Taker hisses.

"Ain't nobody going to mess with my baby. Not anymore." Taker promises.

#wwe #shawn michaels #the undertaker #wwf #hbtaker #undertaker x shawn michaels #shawn x undertaker #triple h #goldust #kevin nash #scott hall #kane #oc character #stalker #charlie doggo #stone cold steve austin

[chainsawselfships]

I'm so curious about Tuco's hacker lapdog plsss tell me about him 🤲

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I'LL REVEAL MY HALF-BAKED BACKSTORY (<- guy who writes smut and poetry, not plot.)

This ended up... so long somehow. I was worried that I wouldn't have much to say, but it just started pouring out of me as soon as I started typing (much of it made up on the spot 👍🏻)

Tw for violence, abuse, dubcon, and drugs (obviously lol.) I can have a dark self ship. As a treat.

I'm tentatively trying out giving my S/I a name that isn't my irl one. For whatever reason I just cannot use a name that doesn't have some connection to my irl one, so it had to start with a T at least, and hopefully this isn't weird but I wanted it to have a similar meaning to Rivera (ignore me feeding our red string of fate into our self ship canon) so I ended up on Trent!

I haven't really landed on a surname for him but I'll probably just go with something common and simple. I like how Trent Adams sounds.

Trent was born in WA in 1980, making him 22 at the beginning of B/CS and 28 at the beginning of B/rBa, although he didn't start working for Tuco until 2003 when he was 23.

Growing up, he was fascinated by media depictions of hacking, and when he was a teenager an older friend-of-a-friend (Doug) took him under his wing and taught him coding/hacking.

As an adult, Trent had trouble keeping a job and as a result borrowed quite a bit of money from Doug over the years. His debt piled up but Doug accepted small payments and Trent working odd jobs for him. Doug moved to NM in 2002 for a mysterious "job opportunity" that he wouldn't tell Trent about.

In early 2003, Doug called Trent and begged him to let him bring him to ABQ and do some work for his boss. As it turned out, Doug had been dealing for Tuco Salamanca while he'd been living in NM and he fucked up bad by getting mugged while carrying a huge amount of cash. He didn't have any way to pay Tuco back quickly enough, so in a fit of desperation he offered up Trent's services, as Trent still owed him a lot of money, so both of their debts could be squared off at once.

Tuco initially had no interest in some random guy who had no experience in the business, but Doug talked up the usefulness of having someone with hacking experience. Now, we know that Tuco can be swayed it you know how to talk to him, so he got into the idea of having his own personal hacker (not that he knew what that really means or entails as he's pretty much computer illiterate, but he likes stuff that sounds cool) and accepted Doug's offer of having Trent come work for him for free.

Doug drove all the way to WA to pick Trent up and gave him the rundown (much to his horror) during the drive back to ABQ about who Tuco is and what kind of business he deals in. He advised Trent to keep his mouth shut as much as possible and stay out of the way when Tuco's temper flared up. Naturally, Trent wanted to back out of the whole thing, but he didn't want his friend (who had helped him so much over the years) to get hurt, or potentially killed, plus the idea of squaring his debt was appealing, so he went along with it.

When Tuco and Trent met for the first time, Tuco literally laughed in his face and made fun of his stature and appearance. He obviously didn't take Trent seriously at all. Trent was offended, but too intimidated to say anything (<- which of course is a good thing as there's a good chance that Tuco would have just killed him.)

Doug put Trent up in a motel (as this whole thing was supposed to be a temporary arrangement), but Trent ended up at Tuco's place pretty much every day, as he needed a computer to work on, which Tuco provided. This had the added benefit (for Tuco at least) of letting him keep on eye on Trent.

Tuco started making passes as Trent pretty quickly, but Trent isn't great at reading social cues (he also assumed that Tuco was straight) so he kept brushing it off (but not actually turning Tuco down as he didn't realize there was an offer in the first place.) This pissed Tuco off as he felt as if he was being teased or possibly made fun of and in true Tuco fashion he flipped out. After shoving Trent into a wall, putting his knife to his throat, and accusing him of fucking with him, Tuco realized that Trent was genuinely unaware of how he'd been coming across. He found it pretty funny, and made his advances much more obvious and aggressive after that.

The beginning of their sexual relationship's consensuality was... questionable at best. Trent of course was terrified of Tuco, was his direct subordinate, and had gotten a sense of "no one says no to a Salamanca." He did find Tuco physically attractive from the first day they met, but he never had any intention of pursuing anything past a professional relationship (and he didn't even really choose that.)

Nacho got a sense of what was going on between Tuco and Trent pretty much immediately and took pity on Trent. He told him that it was for the best, as the more Tuco liked him the safer he'd be from his random violent outbursts, and the more protection he'd have from outside parties (this might seem like a cold way to comfort someone, but this was before they became friends, when Nacho viewed Trent as just another person he had to corral to keep business running smooth.)

Tuco saw Trent's presence and work very much as just a novelty for the first couple of months. Only after Trent crashed the fledgling computer network of a major competitor did Tuco realize that Trent could actually be useful to his business. This made him like Trent on a more serious level and start to want to get to know him for real. This and another incident where Tuco almost killed him (beat and strangled him while high, Tuco felt guilty about it when he sobered up) made him realize that he was actually becoming genuinely fond of him and he ended up going to Nacho for advice on how to make Trent less scared of him.

Somewhere around that time, (do I have an actual timeline worked out to make this story more clear? Hell no!) Tuco moved Trent into his house (under the guise of "keeping an eye on him", when in actuality he was beginning to feel deeply possessive over him, and let's be real, he wanted easy sexual access.)

Their relationship is (and was to an even higher extent during the beginning) closer to owner-and-pet than an equal romantic partnership. Tuco views Trent as more of a thing that he owns than a person who works for him. Tuco was, and is, extremely possessive and jealous over Trent. He's frustrated by his inability to publicly "claim" Trent due to being unable to be openly bi and struggles with letting Trent be alone with other men (Nacho and his cousins are the exception to this.)

Over time their relationship became sort of an open secret as Tuco insists on keeping Trent close even when there's no business-related reason for it, dressing Trent up how he likes (very expensive and gaudy, the complete opposite of how Trent naturally dresses), and becoming enraged any time someone insults or snubs Trent in any way. The people around them started catching on pretty quickly, but generally know better than to bring it up.

Tuco was/is very afraid of Trent betraying him (whether it be cheating on him or something to do with business) and once Lalo entered the picture, he asked him to keep an eye on Trent and report back anything suspicious.

Tuco made it crystal clear from the beginning that he would kill Trent if he tried to run or betray him, so Trent really has no intention of doing so. That doesn't stop Tuco from making him swear that he'll never betray him and that he belongs totally to him pretty much every day. No one has ever claimed that Tuco isn't exhausted to deal with, least of all Trent :^P

Alright, this is way too long. I could talk about Trent and Tuco's fucked up relationship for a year straight if you let me :^P And that's not even getting into his relatively normal friendships with Nacho, Domingo, and Rivera, and his mutually suspicious, tentative friendship/cousin-in-law-ish-thing with Lalo and the twins.

#THERE WE GO. PROPER AND FLESHED OUT S/I. SORT OF. #the usefulness of hacking in canon is. extremely questionable. as well as my knowledge of early 2000s computers and hacking practices :^P #BUT I find the thought of a bunch of rival meth dealers getting fucked over by some rando with a computer really funny. so here we are. #🥊🚬 #asks

[vex-bittys]

Blood and Bone: All in Vein (part 1)

Inspired by a werewolf/vampire AU by @skumhuu that I saw on Twitter.

Warning: angst, blood (because vampires)

Life isn't fair, they say, and immortality only offers an exhausting eternity of those oh so frustrating, heartbreaking moments where one cannot help but ask the universe why.

Vampire hunters hunt vampires, whether those vampires have caused harm or not. Dream had never killed or even attacked a single monster in the nearby village, yet he crouched in the shelter of a copse of ancient willows, groaning in agony as his life-force ebbed away, punished for crimes he never committed. Kneeling next to him, his werewolf companion Cross kept stealing glances at him with his bright, sorrowful eyelights.

"Leave," the vampire ordered as forcefully as he could manage. He hoped the deep shadows would hide the severity of his injuries, but he suspected that Cross already knew. Werewolves have an acute sense of smell, after all. "There’s no point in the hunter getting both of us." 

Cross turned his attention back to their surroundings, not even bothering to meet Dream's eyes if it meant lowering his guard. "You know I'd die for you." The words were soft and matter-of-fact. 

So was the reply. "No." Dream snuck a hand up to his mouth to cover a cough that left his glove smeared with blood.

The willow branches rustled, the night wind catching in the leaves and tugging at them like strands of ghostly hair painted silver by moonlight. Cross's ears twitched, tracking the sound. Dream hadn't just saved his life all those years ago; the vampire made him feel alive. Cross couldn't bear the thought of losing him, of being forced to live in a world that Dream no longer occupied. Without him, there was nothing to live for.

"Drink from me," the werewolf begged, finally catching Dream's faded golden eyelights with his own. "Drink from me so you can escape."

Cross knew the answer before Dream even shook his skull, a clear but expected negative. How would Dream live with himself knowing that his continued existence came at the price of Cross's life? The werewolf should know him better. Besides…

A crafty look crossed his companion's wolfish features. What could the skeletal werewolf possibly be up to?

"You wouldn't waste my blood would you?" Before Dream had a chance to react to the enigmatic question, Cross reached up with claw-tipped phalanges and tore his throat open.

Crimson blood shot through with sparks of purple magic spilled from the wound, and Dream leaned forward, reflexively covering the injury with his mouth to slow the flood of life from his beloved werewolf's throat. The hot liquid slid across his tongue, sweet and potent as ever, and his fangs tingled and lengthened. The taste, the feel of the blood mingled with the magic… he craved more of it, the thirst in his mortally wounded body awakening with a vengeance. 

Swallowing mouthful after mouthful, Dream cursed himself and Cross in turn. Damn the stupid, stubborn puppy for doing something so incredibly stupid, so utterly irreversible, and damn him for not saying anything, for trying to protect Cross's feelings instead of telling him the truth. 

Draining Cross dry wouldn't save him. Every drop of blood in the other skeleton’s body wouldn't be enough to heal his injuries. Guilt burned like the holy water-tempered blades that had cut him. How could he have let this happen?

Cross slumped forward. Damn it. Tears overflowed Dream's sockets; he pressed their foreheads together. At least neither of them would end up alone.

Stupid stubborn puppy. Stupid, stupid vampire. He'd avoided the truth in an attempt to spare Cross from suffering, and now his sweet werewolf would pay the price. The flow of blood from Cross's throat slowed, then stopped. Dream's sockets drifted closed, his tears leaving streaks of gold on his cheekbones where they dried.

You wouldn't waste my blood, would you?

Damn it.

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#vexy writes #xtale #underverse #dreamtale #cross!sans #dream!sans #cream ship #utmv #blood and bone fic

[the-truest-sentence-i-know]

i can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Characters: Rhaenyra Targaryen x Daemon Targaryen (Daemyra)

Rating: T

Summary:  Daemon has returned – again – after being gone – again – and Rhaenyra just wants to know the truth of his feelings for her.

Word Count: 1.2k

ao3 | ff.net | wattpad

High in the clouds, wind whipping through her hair on Syrax’s back was the only place Rhaenyra could find peace. The corridors of the Red Keep were filled with gossip, and the Small Council meetings were just old men discussing things they would never ask for her input on, so why should she pay attention? Sometimes the only part of her birthright she cared for was Syrax.

She tried to push the thoughts away. It was peace she sought – and that included peace from her own mind.

But it would not stop churning. Today’s vexation was her uncle. He had returned – again – after being gone – again – and she didn’t really want to see him.

Syrax made a happy sound and Rhaenyra turned to see Caraxes coming after them, Daemon on his back. She groaned. The sky was endless; did he need to follow her?

She spurred Syrax on, who seemed to think they were going to play tag as she swooped through the sky, looking back at Caraxes as he followed.

There was a small island ahead, small enough that likely no one lived there, and Rhaenyra directed Syrax toward it. She landed long enough for Rhaenyra to hop off before bounding into the sky again to join Caraxes.

Rhaenyra knew her uncle would follow her, but it did not hurt to have a head start, so she stalked into the trees. The island was smaller than she had realized, however, and she soon found herself on the other end of the island, where Daemon was waiting.

“A lovely day for dragonflight, is it not, princess?” he asked.

“I was hoping for some solitude today, uncle,” Rhaenyra said wearily.

“Troubles on your mind?” he asked. “Your attempted suitors, perhaps?”

“They have been less troublesome since I mentioned I was most fond of written correspondence,” she said.

“And how many letters have you received thus far?”

“I don’t know. They make the most wonderful scraps for the fireplace in my chambers.”

Daemon laughed and Rhaenyra could not deny the spark it sent into her gut. It was a childish infatuation that she had tried in vain to quell. Whenever he left, she was sure she would get over it. But then he would return, and she was back where she began.

“It is good to see you smile,” he said. “I was under the impression that you were cross with me about something.”

Her jaw tightened at the reminder.

He looked at her curiously. “You’re still cross with me, then,” he said.

She hated how well he could interpret her emotions. Sometimes it felt as though he could see right into her mind and read her thoughts like one would read a book.

“I’m not cross,” she said.

“Then what are you?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Are you not happy I have returned?”

“You will only leave again.”

“But think of this,” he said. “When I return again, I will bring you another gift.”

“I don’t want your gifts!” she burst out. “I want–” She huffed out a frustrated breath. “I want your honesty.”

“Honesty?”

“Does this mean anything to you?” she demanded. “Whenever you return you– you bring me gifts and you look at me the way that you do, and you speak to me as though you care about what I think. But then you always leave. And then I have to get used to no one caring again.”

He just looked at her, eyes pained.

“So, please, be honest. What is this?” She gestured between them. “If this is nothing, then tell me, so I can move on.” He looked away. “I do not want to spend my life waiting for you to return and then dreading the day that you leave again.”

When he met her eyes again, he looked almost afraid. Rhaenyra had never seen fear on his face before.

“Uncle, please,” she nearly begged. “Tell me I have been imagining things. Tell me you do not care for me in that way. Tell me–”

“I cannot,” he said.

“Why not?” she asked.

Daemon closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. “Because it would be a lie,” he said softly, looking at her with such openness in his eyes that Rhaenyra felt like the breath had been punched from her lungs. She reached up to touch his face, but he turned away. “We shouldn’t,” he said, then amended. “I shouldn’t.”

Rhaenyra set her jaw. “Why not?” she asked again.

“Your father wouldn’t approve,” he said.

“You and I have both done many things he didn’t approve of,” she countered.

“People would talk.”

She looked around at the empty shore and the vast empty sea. “Who? I think that Syrax and Caraxes will hold their tongues.”

He smiled lightly, then shook his head. “You’re a child.”

“No,” she said. “That’s not fair. You don’t get to play this off as though you’re protecting me. You’re afraid.”

He stepped in close again. “Afraid of what?”

“I don’t know exactly,” she admitted. “But I can see it in your eyes.”

He was breathing heavily now, eyes dropping to her mouth more than once as he looked at her. Finally – finally – he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

In the rare moments that Daemon had allowed himself to think of himself and Rhaenyra coming together, he had wanted a gentle, soft first kiss. This was anything but. This kiss was frantic and breathless; he poured all those months of wanting and frustration into it. He no longer feared that his desire would scare her, now he just wanted her to know it.

Kissing was a lot like dragonriding, Rhaenyra decided. It sent energy coursing through her body like blood, it silenced thoughts of anything else, and made her feel like she was on top of the world. Daemon kissed her with such fervour it was all she could do to keep up.

He had her up against a tree now, hands gripping her waist tightly. It was all so much that it took a moment to sink in, but when it did, Rhaenyra couldn’t help but smile.

Daemon pulled away, a grin playing at his lips as well. “What?”

“You want me,” Rhaenyra said, somewhere between disbelieving and smug.

Daemon’s eyes darkened and he moved in close to whisper in her ear. “I’ve gone nearly mad wanting you, princess,” he murmured. “I dream of you every night and when I leave you, I have to tear myself away.”

Rhaenyra held him close to her. “So don’t leave,” she whispered.

He pulled back again so he could look her in the eye. “I will never leave you again,” he vowed.

Rhaenyra felt more weight lift off her shoulders than she ever knew was there. The enormity of her relief nearly brought tears to her eyes. “If you do,” she said. “I will come on Syrax to hunt you down.”

“I would expect nothing less,” he said and kissed her again.

They coupled in the meadow under the trees as their dragons soared overhead. They splashed in the stream and then let the sun dry their naked bodies, and then coupled again. It was not until night began to fall that they realized how many hours had passed.

As they dressed and called to their dragons, Rhaenyra did not ask what would happen now. Daemon was still married, and he had been right about her father. But all that seemed unimportant now. Those were obstacles they would overcome when they came to them. All that mattered was that Daemon was here, and he was not leaving.

#daemyra #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #daemyra fanfic #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra x daemon #daemon x rhaenyra #house of the dragon #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #my writing #wattpad #amwriting #ao3 #ff.net #fanfic #mine #oneshot

[scionshtola]

#29. having a romantic picnic - for Cori and Shtola? 🥺💕

ty for the prompt! 💗 sorry i did not have it ready for valentine's day!

29. having a romantic picnic || 962 words || rated G || set some time in the nebulous future after SB, no spoilers for anything just a lot of fluff

“Are you certain ‘tis the best day for a picnic?” Y’shtola asked with a slight frown. She walked beside Corisande as they wound their way through Gridania, away from the inn. “The skywatcher said ‘tis due to rain today.”

Corisande glanced up at the sky. Gray clouds hung over the city in the distance, but the sky over them and their destination was blue and cloudless. A slight breeze blew past, but it was plenty warm enough for their plans. “We will be back at The Roost long before the rain arrives,” she said cheerily, and looped her arm through Y’shtola’s.

Y’shtola made no further objections, though they did not miss her quiet but doubtful hum. They pressed on anyway, content with her acquiescence. It was not long before they arrived at Apkallu Falls, and they were surprised to find no one else around. Even Y’mhitra, who always seemed to be waiting by the waterfall whenever Corisande wandered by, was nowhere to be seen.

They were not deterred. The two of them left to their own devices, away from the public eye, on a sunny afternoon in Gridania? She could hardly have planned a better day if she tried.

Corisande spread the soft, red and white checked blanket on the ground near the waterfall. The two of them knelt on it, and she began unpacking the food that the cooks at The Roost had very kindly packed for them. They had made their way to the kitchens, hoping that they could beg or buy a few things for their lunch, and was surprised to find that the head cook was something of a fan. Normally, she did not like to abuse her fame in such a way but before she could finish offering to pay, the woman had already shoved the basket into her hand.

“’Twould seem you were correct,” Y’shtola said. She turned her face toward the sun, closing her eyes. “The rain seems to be holding off for now.”

The small smile of contentment she wore warmed Corisande far more than the sunlight they were sitting in. Y’shtola deserved a moment of peace more than anyone she knew, and she was more than happy to do what she could to provide it.

A shadow fell across their picnic. She glanced up, searching for the source, only to find that the gray clouds that had seemed so far away when they’d set out had rolled in far quicker than she anticipated. The comforting breeze now made her shiver, and they watched as the sunlight faded, their hope sliding away as fast as the light slid from Y’shtola’s face.

“About that,” Corisande said, heart sinking as the first drop of rain fell on them. How had those clouds moved so fast? They’d been certain they would have at least an hour or two before it began to rain. “I think I may have been a tad optimistic.”

“I cannot say I did not expect as much,” Y’shtola said with an amused expression, wiping a drop of rain from her cheek. “Though I hoped for more time as much as you did.”

Despite their disappointment, they could not help but smile at that. They quickly packed the food back into the basket and folded the blanket. There was a crash of thunder when they stood, so loud that Corisande nearly dropped the blanket, and then the sky opened up on them.

They both burst into surprised laughter. Corisande grabbed Y’shtola’s hand and the two of them ran through the rain, still laughing, until they reached the tunnel heading back into New Gridania. Y’shtola leaned against them, her hand still warm in theirs, both of them breathless.

They tipped their head to look down at her, and lifted a hand to sweep her wet hair away from her face. Y’shtola’s eyes closed briefly as she pressed her cheek against their palm with a small hum. Their breath caught at the movement, their heart beating faster. Unwilling to be the one to break contact, she brushed her thumb along her cheek. She felt warm, too warm, despite the cold rain still dripping from their clothes.

“I’m sorry the rain ruined our plans,” they said quietly, hardly daring to break the silence.

Y’shtola opened her eyes, and her hand closed over their fingers on her cheek. “There is no need to apologize. I enjoyed the rest, brief though it was. One could hardly argue that we do not deserve it.”

“Oh?” Corisande said with a smile. She swept her thumb across her cheek once more and Y’shtola blinked, as if realizing for the first time just how close they were. “Did you not argue with me all morning about taking the afternoon off? Or was that someone else I practically had to drag from all the books she brought with her, ‘just in case?’”

“Before you begin casting stones, pray tell how many books you brought,” Y’shtola said, a smile playing on her lips. She squeezed their hand, expression softening. “Jests aside, I very much appreciate the effort, Corisande. Mayhap we can resume our picnic at the inn after we have dried ourselves off?”

Corisande dropped their hand from her cheek, though the warmth of the touch did not fade from her fingers. She shifted, looping her arm through Y'shtola's once more, and started them both toward the inn with a smile. It hardly mattered to them how they spent their time together, so long as they had a moment’s rest together. “Of course. But we are eating in my room, away from all of your books, lest you get any grand ideas.”

Y’shtola tucked her face against their arm and laughed serenely. The sound of it kept Corisande warm the entire walk through the rain.

#not my best but i did want to do this before it got so far from valentine's day that i didn't do it bc it was too long ago. #if that makes sense ajsdfsgkf #when cori realizes they're in love we can all have a little kiss but until then we get they're basically dating they just dont know it 😌 #also thank u again!!! i love them so much!! #oc: corisande ymir #kels writes