#i want elaborate rock walls

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Losing Game

♡ featuring: ajax x f!reader

♡ summary: simmering feelings boil over as you're confronted by the man you hate the most; tartaglia, your boss. wc: 3.1k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, degradation, humiliation, creampie, squirting, light choking, sadism, throat-fucking, cum play, fingering, overstimulation, brat taming, mind break, pet names (doll, baby)

notes: hiii, the positive response from the last one motivated me to get this done just in time for Fontaine. kinda long this time so sorry abt that. ajax my beloved <3 art by sonomi_rap5 on twitter comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Working for the fatui wasn’t easy in the slightest, especially when you aren’t on harbinger status. You were sent on long, grueling tasks only to be met with loose interpretations of gratitude and sometimes silence from the higher-ups, in which most wouldn’t even glance in your direction. Pleasant beginnings became a sour afterthought, and your perception of the fatui changed drastically. Your grievances, however, weren’t helped by your quick-witted snappy attitude and competitiveness; Presumably why you ended up under the division of Tartaglia. You assumed a binding contract from the capricious redhead wouldn’t mean much, but that was quickly proven false.  

You'd rather climb every mountain in Snezhnaya than spend a minute talking to that airhead. He was instructed to keep a watchful eye on you during missions despite the competence you demonstrated. It was insulting. Anything he did you could do better. It’d been proven multiple times from the petty challenges you created. How much water you could drink, how long you can stay up. You won every time. How could you not hate him? His feigned ignorance and careless flirtations were enough to drive you mad. “Please, call me Ajax” he’d say, winking. The simpering smile he gave you after every comeback shot daggers in your pride. What made you particularly furious was the incessant drum of your heart whenever he was near you. The warm autumn morning that was his hair. The cool still waves his eyes sent to your core. You couldn’t fall for him, or else he’d have one up on you. You had to be stronger than that. You quelled your stress in a tattered journal gifted years ago. 

“Hey, comrade!” His bubbly tone makes knots in your stomach, and you choose to stay silent. You’re hoping this mission will go without a hitch, as long as he doesn’t get in your way. Ajax lets out a teasing whistle. 

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” As you’re collecting the items needed for the deal, he rocks back and forth on his heels directly in front of you, absent-mindedly watching. 

You whip your head to face him, “You can’t see I’m doing something right now?” 

“Oh, I see what you’re doing. But this isn’t entertaining.” 

“Unlike you, your majesty, I have no choice but to be perfect. I apologize if that’s not exciting enough for you.” You retort with sarcastic curtsy.  

“Haha! You’re always a pleasure to be around, (Y/N). My faithful, kind-hearted companion.” he said with a taunting wink. You're beyond flustered, haphazardly stuffing the remains in your bag and lugging it over your shoulder. 

“Let's go.” You say lazily. He follows closely, arms crossed behind his head. “Calling me like a dog, how romantic.” 

“If you don’t want to be called like a dog stop acting like one.” 

“You could at least give me a treat if I'm gonna be your dog.” He looks at you, making his best impression of puppy-eyes. You bite back a few choice words, and glare at him instead. He isn’t fazed by this and flashes a beguiling smile that makes your ears warm. Glancing at the weight you’re shouldering, he comments, “You sure you don’t need any help with that?” 

“No. The last person I need help from is you.” 

You and Ajax regroup in an alleyway deep in Fontaine’s bustling city. You are assigned to retrieve a rare gem for one of Pantalone’s elaborate schemes, and you quickly prepare yourself for this interaction. Ajax studies you, leaning against one of the walls. 

“Can’t you be a little nicer to your superior? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be in a lot of trouble half the time. You’re welcome.” You scoff. “I don’t know why you’re here in the first place, I have no problem doing this on my own.” 

“I’m sure. Don’t mind me, Ms. Independent.” A sly smirk crawled up his face. “Fucking asshole” you mumble under your breath. “I didn’t catch that. Can you repeat it?” 

“I said you’re a fucking asshole.” After a few moments of silence, Ajax grips his chest in feigned agony. “Ouch. I’m gutted!” 

Just as you're about to leave, he snatches your wrist, now only mere inches away from your face. His hand gently brushes away the strays of hair on your forehead. “There you go, doll. Gotta be perfect for your debut.” A whirlwind of emotions strangles your ability to think clearly, you pull your wrist away and start speed walking, attempting to gather yourself before you get to the jewelry store. 

You enter the empty store and are immediately confronted by the jeweler. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?” You proclaim your business and appointment under a fake identity, posturing yourself as wealthy. “May I see identification please.” Of course, you say. As you’re looking through your purse you notice something: there’s no identification here. Surely you weren’t that negligent over something so simple. You rummaged through the other compartments, trying to stay calm in front of an increasingly concerned jeweler. But it’s not there. How is this possible. Your nerves are heightened and the anxiety of failing the mission starts to creep in. “I made an appointment with Lottie; she’ll be able to provide reference. I believe I left my passport at home.” The jeweler seems slightly disappointed. “Unfortunately, ma’am, I am not allowed to present any gems without identification.” Your heart beats faster. “Well, sir, I’m very busy and I’m afraid this is my only chance to close on this item. You wouldn’t want to push away a well-paying customer.” 

“I have no choice in the matter. If you have no proof of identification, I must ask you to leave.” Should I take it by force? You thought, thinking about the next possible option. As you’re about to handle the rest physically, the door swings open. Ajax comes up to you, placing his arm around your waist.  

“My love, were you able to get the gem we were discussing?” You’re annoyed, but you improvise and look at him as if he’s the love of your life. “Not yet, dear.” Suddenly, he places a plush kiss on your lips. You’re stunned and speechless, filled with anger and wanting. 

The jeweler interjects. “And are you the husband? Would you happen to have any identification.” 

“Yes, sir.” Ajax pulls out a passport and fake birth certificate unbeknownst to you and begins to close the deal. The rest of the meeting you sit speechless. 

“Thank you for your patronage.” are the last words you hear as you leave the store, Ajax guiding you with his hand. You’re silent the whole way back to your room. 

You turn your bag upside down and begin looking for the mismatched documents. All while Ajax stares at you expectingly. You ignore his presence.  

“So... how about a ‘you’re welcome?’” 

“For what.” 

He lets out a mocking laugh. “For what? I don’t know, maybe saving your ass back there? You froze, and you were unprepared, Ms. Independent.”  

“I wouldn’t have forgotten it if it wasn’t for the obnoxious bullshit you did this morning.” 

“That’s dishonest, I wasn’t even talking!” he pretends to be hurt. “Admit that you need me.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“No.” His light-hearted inflection vexes you and makes it hard for you to focus as you read through the mountains of pages in your folder. 

While your head is down, Ajax comes across the tattered notebook just peeking out from under the bed. Storing the months—no years—of feelings you had regarding the fatui. Regarding him. Some time passes and you finally raise your head, met with the horrifying reveal of him skimming through the journal, mischief coating the deep void in his eyes. You spring up and reach for the book but he’s faster, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head. 

“This is really good stuff... really good.” You shout profanities over and over, anything to get his attention away from the book. But he continues to read as if you’re not there. When he’s done reading, he lets you go, and you instantly try to swing at him. Before you can land a hit, he grabs you by the throat and stares into your soul, almost as if he’s trying to swallow your being. 

“You’ve been acting like a little fucking brat all over a crush? Not very big girl of you.” 

“I know you think you’re beyond charming, but I promise you don’t have that effect on me.” 

“Really? Let’s play a game then.” He knew you’d accept just to beat him at anything. 

“If you don’t cum by the end of this journal, I’ll apologize for everything. I’ll do whatever you want. But if I win-” he steps closer to you, “You have to do everything I say.” 

You almost burst out laughing. Such an easy challenge, how hard could it be? 

You're panting, trying your hardest to focus on the words that seemed to melt off the page. Your back lays comfortably against his chest, with his legs keeping yours spread. 

“Next page, baby.” 

“Don’t call me that.” Your words are lenient and breathy. Your underwear is still on, but Ajax’s fingers are covered in your slick, playing with the erect nub just enough to make you fuzzy. “You look like you’re tapping out.” 

“This? This is nothing” You respond meekly, continuing the reading.  

“I can’t help but have fe-elings for himph.”  

“There’s some nice things about me in here, why aren’t you always like this?” He says, circling and dipping into your gushy folds, smearing the glossy mess all over your vulva. You try so hard to read the letters, squirming from his touch. The sensation pulsing from your clit to your brain made you incoherent; the more you move, the more he moves. The contents of the journal are humiliating, detailing your romantic and sexual attraction towards Ajax, and your attempts to stifle these feelings. He was getting a kick out of seeing your flustered face stammer over his appearance. He plays with the precum glazing his fingers, widening them to watch the trail it left. Only two more pages left. 

“I-I-” You couldn’t get through the first sentence on the last page. Your thighs are trembling, and your pussy began to twitch. “Uh, s-shit. Ajax, wai-.” He trails his fingers over your clit spelling his name, then pushes two inside, fighting back an amused grin. “You’re almost done” Teasing in your ear. You bite back the moans threatening to escape; at the very least you couldn’t give him that satisfaction. He watches you fall apart, shaking more aggressively before your body gives in and you cum on his fingers.  

“Uh oh, that’s unfortunate.” You try your best to catch your breath, but he rides out your orgasm, making you subconsciously grind yourself into his palm. Then you’re struck with the reality of losing. He licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling back from the taste. “So fucking good, does being a bitch make you taste better?” You were too embarrassed from the loss to retort. “You won.” 

“I did.” He lifts you off the bed and onto the floor, your legs still recovering. He hikes your shirt up, trailing kisses up your stomach until he gets to your nipples. He flicks and sucks one while kneading the other one, occasionally biting the slightly bruising flesh. “Not gonna moan for me, huh baby?” 

“Not in the slightest.” You rasped. He smiles and blows cool air on your tits, sending a rippling feeling down your back. “That’s okay, you’ll give in.” 

Ajax unbuttons his pants, and they drop in front of you. Unsheathing his thick throbbing length, drooling with desire. His balls are full and heavy, and as you look up at him his eyes are clouded with lust. The pretty freckles that dotted his arms and chest are much more visible now, and so are his battle scars. He breathed in deep, "take care of this for me, yeah?” You wanted to say no and say fuck this; but there was another side that wanted him desperately, that needed this.  

You force your jaw open to accommodate his size and push yourself halfway on his girth, feeling his cockhead hit the back of your throat. Once you feel like you got it in, you slobber all over his cock, dampening his balls and begin to bob your head. You stroke with one hand and massage his sack with the other, leading to a breathy whimper from him. “Ah fuck, feels good. Suck it slow, slut.” You begin to move faster while cupping his balls, obscene noises leaving your sopping mouth. You have tears running down your sweating face trying to keep up with the vigorous movement of your tongue. You feel him throb a few times, his moans and grunting getting progressively louder.  

“Need more” is all he says, putting one of his legs on the bed and grabbing both sides of your head. Before you can register what’s happening. Ajax pushes your head onto his cock until your nose reaches his pubes. He lets out a breathy sigh and starts throat fucking you with an animalistic grip. The gagging and spit noises echo off the walls, along with his continuous whimpering. You wanted to hate him, but your blood was buzzing, and your panties were drenched. “Shut up and take it” followed by broken fuck’s and yes’s. He threw his head back, hair slicked and torso gleaming with sweat, “look at me.” You reluctantly look up, addicted to his passionate expression. “I want you looking at me when I cum.” You grip his thighs, and he twitches a few times before spurting white, thick cum down your throat. He pulls out slightly to drag his semen over your lips and then taps it on your face, holding you in place.  

“What are you doing? Clean me up.” he husked. You clean him up without complaint and lick your lips, forced to maintain eye contact with him the entire way.  

In one swoop, Ajax picks you up and throws you on the bed, eager to get your underwear off. “You proved your point, stop being an ass" you slurred out. The room was intoxicating, all you could smell and feel was him. He takes your panties off, spreading your pussy to watch the slippery puddle dribble down your thighs. He shoves your panties in your mouth, “Fucking liar, I know you like it. Can’t taste how wet you are?” He aligns himself with your aching hole, keeping your arch steady with you bent over. Shoving his cock in, moaning from the feeling of your body perfectly molding for him. Ajax starts moving at a rapid pace quickly, his big slender hands tightly gripping your ass. The sound of wet sticky skin slapping together and the squelching from your core made you shudder. It was all too much; you have been teetering on an orgasm since you went down on him, and the way his balls thump your clit make you quiver.  

“Whiny brat. Just needed to be fucked good to shut up, yeah?” he groaned through his words. Tears were coming down your eyes now, you can’t tell if he’s edging you by accident or on purpose. But right now, you’d do anything. He turns your head to face him, gazing at your tear-stricken face. “Aww, you cryin’ for me?” He stops to kiss and lick your tears, delighted by your tenderness. Taking the panties out your mouth, he brings your body flush with his and continues to pump inside with you looking at him.  

“So sweet all of a sudden, where’d that attitude go?” The morals you had for moaning went missing and mewls and soft whimpers began to leave you. “Let it out, baby.” You’re suddenly babbling please’s begging for him to let you have it. “Pathetic, can’t even get off on your own. You need me that bad?” You nod repeatedly, dangerously close to your release. He had a dark look in his eyes and a sinful smirk. “Yeah? Okay, you’ve been so good.” He reaches down and starts to rub your clit ceaselessly, kissing your cheek. Your whimpers become loud shaky moans and he finally lets you have it, shockwaves going through your body as you’re dissolved into pleasure. You pulsate through the explosion, jello-brain and boneless as your cum leaks down his thighs. Just as he pulls out and flips you over. You’re dizzy and drunk off him, legs shaking indefinitely from the intensity. Then he puts it back in. “You can take one more, yeah baby?” Your overstimulated and violent shaking wasn’t enough for him to stop. He wanted you ruined. He keeps going, grabbing your face to kiss you deeply, tongues intertwining with each other. He feeds you deep strokes, tip prodding your spot every time and watching as your tits bounce. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You have no thoughts, only his name rings in your head. You can feel the coil inside you winding up, pleasure beyond the searing pain of your swollen pussy. He looks down at you and smiles.  

“Look at me." You can’t hear anything at this point, not even the sound of your own voice. So, it’s a pleasant surprise when your voice carries his name, “Ajax, Ajax”, chanting as if he’s your god. “Fuck. Gonna cum. Let it out. baby” he says grinning. You’re clamping him so tight and throbbing until you ultimately shatter with him, releasing a stream of squirt onto him and the sheets. He bucks into you, letting out thick spurts, panting heavily as he watches you in disarray. You instinctively hold on to his arms, trembling uncontrollably as you try to search for breath and ride it out. You’re completely hysterical and sobbing from the emotion it ripped into you. You were in shambles and Ajax couldn’t help but smile out of happiness for what he caused. “I’m so sorry.” you say repeatedly, eyes shut and lined with tears. He got closer to wrap you in his arms, and you cling to him for stability. “It’s okay, I’m here for you.” 

You didn’t want to talk about it when you woke up. You were hoping he’d be gone, and therefore wouldn’t have to deal with the humiliation. But there he was, watching you sleep just as the sun rose. His ginger hair danced with golden flecks of light, and he looked at you like you were the only person on Teyvat. 

“Creep.” 

  “Good morning to you too, baby~.” 

#childe tartaglia ajax #ajax x reader #genshin ajax #genshin smut #childe smut #tartaglia smut #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #ajax smut

[murdrdocs]

yknow what…….. you should elaborate more on after shows w/ rockstar bf hobie……

mhm ik what ur asking for ... and i will deliver fem!reader

he always comes off the stage drenched in sweat. a bright look in his eyes, prominent cheekbones glowing with happiness instead of just sweat. he chats to a few people on the way down, dapping them up as he goes, and you stand just a little bit away, rocking back and forth on your feet, playing with the rings hobie's gotten you, gnawing on your lip as he gets closer, and closer, and closer.

until sweat-slickened hands are pulling you into him by the waist, your hands finding the cotton of his muscle tee. he asks you the same question that he always does ("what'd you think?"), and you give the same answer as always ("was amazing") and then he kisses you, just like he always does.

there's some more time where he's dragged into different places, his hand in yours as you walk behind him, then his hands on your hips as he walks you in front of him. he talks to his mates, fingers tapping along the denim of your skirt, angular jaw resting on your shoulder and you can practically feel the anticipation buzzing from his body.

you finally end up outside, under a streetlight with your backs against the wall of the pub. hobie smokes a cig while he listens to you tell him about what the show looked like from your end, something he makes you do as he values your opinion (though he says it like it doesn't matter but his attentive eyes say otherwise).

the last drag is taken, you've finished your spiel, hobie stomps the butt out into the asphalt with his boots, and then his hands are pulling you into him, slender fingers hooking into your belt loops to encourage the movement.

your hands collide with his chest, he stares down at you, dark eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips, and then his lips are on yours.

it's usually like this, intensely making out just steps away from where he'd performed, a few feet away from where he'd laid almost all of his heart and soul out, always leaving just enough left to give to you.

your back ends up against the wall and hobie crowds your space. he tastes like cigarettes, and a little like beer, with a tinge of the gum you'd given him when he'd asked for it a few minutes ago. he smells like you, and like him, a mixture that works more than it should.

his hands are warm and rough when they meet your thighs, thumbs on the innermost parts of your skin. they dig into the flesh in a silent command to spread your legs more, one you easily obey. it gives access for hobie's deft fingers to push your panties aside.

he takes a step closer, his head dips down, he pecks your cheek. "d'you want me to stop?" it's always the same question, formatted slightly different each time.

and each time, you shake your head.

there are some nights where you just talk, his arm slung around your waist, your head rested somewhere on his chest or shoulders, a cigarette either between his lips or fingers as he tells you stories that he somehow hasn't told you before. those nights end with you back at either of your places, in a position similar to this one.

but there are other nights, most nights if you're honest, where hobie looked so good on stage from your perspective, and he had adrenaline pumping through his veins that couldn't be quelled with spiderman duties, and neither of you could wait to get home so the side of a pub was the next best place.

his fingers work you in ways that only he can do, and as you start to unravel from his ministrations, you don't have any worries about being seen because you know that in the off chance that would happen, hobie would handle it. he always does.

#hobie brown x fem!reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x you #hobie brown #celeste writes mcu #spider man: across the spider verse #hobiesworld!

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: In which your friends are idiots who think gallivanting around a haunted castle surrounded by lava is a great idea. And then there's a dragon.

ie. Or, I watched Shrek this afternoon and could not stop thinking about the memes of the Prefect being Donkey and Malleus as the Dragon.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [EPILOGUE]

‘Treasure beyond your wildest dreams!’ Ace said.

‘Knowledge long since lost to time!’ Deuce corrected.

‘Yeah, okay, but what is it,’ you asked.

And neither of them had an answer.

Abandoned castles suspended over a sea of bubbling lava were not your preferred holiday destination. You’d told Ace this several times. You’d begged, pleaded, to please just be normal for once. But noooo. Both the snarky, ginger, bastard and the other half of his singular brain cell had apparently decided that suicide ala boiling rocks sounded like a perfectly lovely plan for your Saturday evening.

“I’m just saying,” you huffed as the rope bridge swung worryingly beneath your feet, “taverns are a thing. Faires. Market runs. Casual side quests that won’t wind up with us being flambeed alive.”

“But there’s treasure!” Ace complained, the muddled light off the lava below illuminating his pout in a way that made it look especially punchable. “I heard there’s this really awesome magical sword! Or maybe it was a shield or something—”

“Or something,” you grit out. “What if it’s a book, huh? You can’t even read.”

“We can try!” Deuce returned, a spark of that familiar determination zipping through his blue eyes.

“Or we can sell it,” Ace said, which was certainly the more likely option of the two.

One of the rickety, wooden, slats cracked beneath the low heel of your boot and tumbled down into the lava below. Maybe it hit the gurgling pool of death with a hiss, or a whump, or some other cool sound. But all you could hear was the ringing in your ears.

“Oh my god. I’m going to die.”

“I mean, maybe,” Ace shrugged. “But at least you’ll have a cool new sword propped up at your grave or something.”

You managed to make it all the way to the other side of the horrible death bridge without plummeting to your doom. Except now you were standing at the foot an equally horrifying castle. It was massive—grand on a scale that seemed entirely impossible for something constructed in the heart of a volcano. Its dozens of ebony spires clawed at the sky. The walls crawled with grey ivy and thickets of thorns so dense that you couldn’t see even the barest hint of brick beneath. It looked evil in the way that cursed tombs felt evil—eternal, and still, and oppressive. Like a creature in its own right rather than just an agglomeration of black stone.

Ace drew his sword and Deuce readied his axe. You sighed and plucked at the strings of your stupid fucking lute, and wished once more that you’d had the foresight all those moons ago to take the cushy internship position Lord Crewel had tried to offer you. But, no. You’d wanted to be an adventurer.

The massive double doors of the entrance swung open with an eerie groan. A pair of stern looking gargoyles stood guard as the three of you cautiously made your way into the castle. You swore you could feel their eyes following you—that you’d seen them flex jagged claws into their stone perches in an aborted attempt to dive after you.

The inside of the looming fortress was no more welcoming than out. Dark, emerald, stained glass windows lined the walls—smothering any of the warmer light from the volcano and tinting the entire hall a sickly green-grey. The stone floors and walls were elaborately carved with the faded stories of dynasties long since passed, but what had once surely been immaculate craftsmanship had shifted and cracked with age—crushing floors into tight slopes and littering already narrow walkways with heavy debris.

“We just have to find the tallest tower,” Ace hummed, swiping at a few dangling trails of thorns with the blunted edge of his blade. “And then the highest room in that.”

“The treasure is never in the highest room in the tallest tower,” you complained. “You just heard that in a drinking song once.”

“Is that true?” Deuce frowned, looking terribly betrayed.

“No way!” Ace snipped. “I told you! An old crone read my fortune in her bone dice, and she said to always check the highest room in the tallest tower! Because that’s where I’d find my greatest treasure!”

“Maybe the greatest treasure is the friends we’ve made along the way?” Deuce suggested helpfully.

“No.”

So you split off from a grouchy Ace and dejected Deuce to try and find some stairs. Every room in this stupid castle was swimming in so many shadows that you could hardly tell right from left, let alone if there were any kinds of secret doors or passageways that may lead to an equally secret tower. The chamber you’d found yourself in now was gigantic, and each tentative step you took echoed discordantly through the ashy gloom. You kicked miserably at a loose rock and it skittered off into the darkness with a dull thunk. And then something… odd, began to happen. That darkness began to move—to rise and unfurl like a great set of wings on a beast. And—oh. Oh no.

“Would you look at that,” Ace whistled under his breath, neck craned all the way back as he squinted at what was most definitely the tallest of all the towers this creepy castle had to offer. “Guess what, nonbelievers. I found the—”

“DRAGON!”

Whoosh went the great swathe of emerald fire as it exploded down the barren hallway and nipped at your heels. You dove out into the open courtyard just in time to avoid being roasted alive, and the gargantuan monster behind you let out a roar fit to shake the earth. A quick tuck-and-roll left you crouched behind a fallen pillar, and the dragon’s bright, green, glower turned on you and your garbage hiding spot with a rumbling snarl. Its rows of sharp, white, teeth closing just above your head—missing its mark by barely a hair’s width.

“Gotcha!” Deuce snarled, his armored fists dragging the dragon away by its tail. Or, well, tried to. Because the dragon was a hundred feet long at least, and your blue haired friend probably looked like nothing more than a pesky rat darting between its feet. It turned and snapped at him irritably, taking a great, big, step forward in a bid to get a firmer stance to attack. You threw yourself in the other direction to avoid being trampled.

“Go!” Ace called, charging in from the other side. “Quick!”

Because at the end of the day, they were still both your brave, tanky, warrior, friends. And you were just a very, very, squishy bard who really would not fare well against a particularly motivated goose, let alone a dragon. So you skidded through the rubble and onto your feet, and started to sprint back into the castle’s halls—hoping maybe you’d be able to find a bit more cover.

There was a great clatter, and both Ace and Deuce yelped. You looked back hurriedly to see the pair of them clutching onto the dragon’s tail for dear life as it whipped them back and forth through the ash and debris cluttering the ground. With one, final, great, sweep, the dragon pitched them into the air and sent them careening through the roof of that ‘tallest tower.’ You muttered a hasty incantation and the sparkling outlines of soft feathers danced along your fingers. You hoped you weren’t too far. You were probably too goddamn far. But you hummed frantically under your breath nonetheless and entreated your middling magic to give them a soft landing.

And then there was another wave of green hellfire raining down over your head and you turned and ran.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—

Even if you’d been a champion sprinter, there was little good it would have done you against a beast whose stride was longer than you were tall. You made it back into some hall or other, and into another cavernous room, and then you were pinned into a corner—the dragon looming over you like a vengeful wraith come to take its due.

It was gigantic. Probably the biggest creature you’d ever seen. And it was sleek—all lithe muscle and glossy rows of black scales that glittered oddly in the dull, grey, light. Its wings spread wide behind it, spanning the entirety of the vast chamber. They looked like the sort of wings that could stir up a hurricane. The curling horns atop its head seemed sharp enough to gore a man or twenty, and the purple crests lining its skull were tapered down flat in a way that reminded you a bit deliriously of a pissy cat pinning its ears back before it swatted at you.

Its lips curled back over pointed canines as it snarled at you, and you were showered in a swathe of hot sparks.

“Oh, what large teeth you have,” you squeaked, and when the dragon dipped closer to bellow into your face, your reeled back with a splutter. “I—I mean white, sparkling, teeth!” you rattled, nearly incoherent. The dragon’s snout twitched away, almost like you’d startled it. “I mean, I’m sure you hear this all the time from your food, but—wow! Just! Very lovely! Definitely the prettiest smile I’ll ever be eaten by!”

Slowly it lowered its great head, and you could see the neon glare from its narrowed eyes.

“Not that you have to eat me,” you added hurriedly, hoping to whatever Gods could hear you that your smart mouth could finally be useful for more than just talking circles around assholes in bars or weaseling your friends out of shitty contracts. “I’d very much like not to be eaten. But all the same, we did intrude in your home—and it’s definitely a very nice home—so I’d totally get it. And I guess if I did have to die today, knowing that my life would be in the hands of something so magnificent is certainly reassuring.”

The dragon seemed to preen a bit at that. You could see the sharp crests beneath its horns soften as tension bled from the beast’s posture. It ducked in close again, and this time you felt a sharp pull of air rush past your cheeks as it sniffed you. Its nostrils were the size your head—bigger even, maybe. You didn’t want to think about it, but the dry heat of its breath puffing into your face made the entire thing a bit hard to ignore.  

“Did I mention what a charming home you have?” you rambled on. “Very aesthetic. The gargoyles at the gate were a lovely touch.”

The dragon made a low, warbling, noise in its throat that wasn’t quite a growl, but wasn’t particularly… reassuring, either. It made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

It ducked away—not far, just enough to reach one of the large, carved, walls at the outskirts of the room. Its long neck slithered out before pausing pointedly over an archway. It took you a long moment to realize it was gesturing to something. Another gargoyle from the looks of things—this one almost entirely crumbled away under the strains of time. You could just barely make out the shape of its square jaw and taloned fingers.

You nodded so hard you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

“Yes! I see! Very beautiful! Such fine craftsmanship!”

The dragon cooed at you. Swear on your life and all the money in your back packet. An actual, honest to God, coo. Fuck, maybe you’d managed to charm your way out of imminent dismemberment and death after all.

It ambled closer once again, a curiosity lighting its eyes and warming those neon irises into something that was less poisonous-hell-fire and more mellow-evening-in-the-forest.

Amidst all the rippling waves of ebony scales, your eyes caught on the smallest smear of crimson. Just a touch of red—right along the spikes of its tail. Carefully, cautiously, slower than molasses, you stepped forward with your hands raised. You whispered a handful of familiar words under your breath and your palms glowed fuzzy and blue. Dragons were supposed to be inherently magical, right? So this one would certainly understand that the string of syllables you’d babbled out were good, and helpful, and not at all a provocation. The dragon was looking down at you with lidded eyes, its gaze a bit unfocused. You gulped.

“I’m sorry my friends messed with your tail,” you apologized, gingerly holding your fingers out to hover over the abrasions without actually touching. “They were just trying to protect me. If—if that makes it any better.” The minuscule wound began to knit itself back together neatly beneath the pulses of your magic. “I do tend to need a lot of protecting—I’m not much a warrior, if that wasn’t completely obvious by the everything about me—so I can’t really blame them for being a bit gung-ho about it.”

After a moment or two, the scratches had faded back into solid, matte, black and you drew back with a content hum.

“There! All fixed!” You gave your most winning smile. Please don’t eat me, your brain chanted on endless repeat. Please don’t eat me please don’t eat me please don’t eat me—

The dragon reared back and settled on its haunches with another heavy puff of sweltering breath. You could feel the heat of it prickling all the way up your arms. After a long, long, moment of silent consideration, the dragon leaned forward again and rumbled deep in its chest. When you only stood there, properly petrified, it huffed again and bumped its nose against your sternum, nearly toppling you over.

“I don’t—” you started, nervous. “I’m sorry. I don’t really get what you’re trying to say.”

With another sigh that sounded entirely too put upon, the dragon lowered its great head. The air itself seemed to grow heavy against your shoulders, and you could taste the cloying bitterness of strong magics on the back of your tongue. Black miasma oozed from beneath the dragon’s talons and melted along its scales. The caustic scent of ash and petrichor burned along your nostrils, and you had to pinch your eyes shut and cover your nose to keep from coughing. You managed to sneak a peek past your fingers just in time to watch the shadowed outline of the beast collapse. And out of that puddle of black goo emerged a man­. He was tall and lithe, just as the dragon had been, with glowing green eyes that were terribly familiar. They were framed with thick, dark, lashes and sat perfectly on a face that was nearly too handsome to be human (well, it really wasn’t human you supposed, so that little tidbit probably accounted for said inhuman beauty well enough). Recognizable eyes and stature or no, the curling horns atop his head would have sealed the deal plenty well enough on their own.

He shook off the shadows twining around his ankles with a lazy twist of the hand and then turned to you with a curious little hum.

And holy fuck Mister Dragon apparently had no sense of shame, or maybe just no qualms about social niceties and practicalities, because his human self was wearing about just as many clothes as his lizard form had been.

You squeezed your eyes shut with a squeak, and then double covered them with your hands for good measure.

A chuckle rolled through the air—as dark and pleasantly rich as the finest of chocolates. And then there was a clawed finger beneath your chin, tilting your head back, and back, and back until you were at least half-way sure it would probably be safe to open your eyes again without infringing on his decency.

“You are fascinating, Child of Man,” it—he—hummed, low in his throat. His thumb dragged down to hook beneath the curve of your jaw and support the finger tucked up under your chin. “And it’s been so, very, long since I’ve been fascinated by anything.”

“Uh,” you replied, like a perfectly functional human being.

The dragon’s lips curled up over his pointed teeth—still just as sharp and white as they had been when he’d been so much bigger and scalier.

“I think I’d like to keep you,” he said with a nod to himself, as casually as one may talk about picking up extra groceries from the market.

“Uh,” you said again.

“You did mention that you needed protecting,” he continued, tapping a clawed finger against his own chin. The small smile quirking his lips twisted into something smug. “And that is certainly something at which I would excel.”

Your head was swimming.

“I—I mean. I’m honored that you—that… you—” You couldn’t even think the words, let alone get them past your brain and out of your mouth. You cleared your throat and fought to keep your eyes level with his clavicle and nowhere else. “D-Don’t you think you’re moving a bit fast?” you laughed nervously. “I mean, I’m sure my friends will probably be on their way back down soon—and—I mean, we haven’t even introduced ourselves yet. I don’t even know your name.”

He blinked, slow and serpentine.

“Oh. I suppose you wouldn’t.” He canted his head to the side, long strands of that inky black hair of his spilling across his shoulder. An amused sort of grin worked its way along his mouth. “Dragons are not keen to give out our true names so readily, but you seem like a clever one. Tell me—what do you think I’m called then, hmm?”

You glanced up quickly at the horns atop his head and couldn’t help yourself.

“Tsunotarou?”

He let out a bark of laughter that seemed to shake the walls.

“Oh,” he trilled, looking positively delighted. The hand not curled beneath your chin reached down to snag your own, and he brought your wrist up to his lips. You could feel the imprints of his canines against the soft skin there. “I’ll definitely be keeping you.”

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Malleus x Reader #Malleus Draconia #Malleus x Yuu #Dragon Malleus #Monster Mayhem #My Writing #Monster Mayhem Malleus Part 1

[aizawaskittenwhore]

bedroom stats with armin!

hi guys im back, this is not to b taken seriously but i had to get these lil armin hcs out my drafts so enjoy! <3

content warnings: uh..smut!

yeah that’s about it. let me know if i missed anythin in the notes !

im not gonna say “armin likes missionary because hes shy/inexperienced >.<“ because not only is that played out, it’s not even true!!

armin’s thing is backshots w you on your stomach. pillow underneath you for optimal comfort, but sometimes if he’s in a rush, he doesn’t mind using the wall to serve his purpose

yes there are marks from where your neck and chest have mushed themselves into the drywall, forehead smearing sweat against eggshell paint as you revel in how fucking good he feels

he’s so fucking analytical in everything he does, even down to sex positions and what angles hit deepest when he’s fucking you..

Talks You Through It™️

im so deadass.

he loves watching you shiver as his lips come into range, his breath heady as it ghosts along your nervous system, your body zoned in on the sensation that is armin whispering utter filth as he rocks into you again, and again, and again

“i know, i know—“ you’re pushing his lower stomach in protest, his tip poking and prodding sweet moans out of you, body waivering when he molds himself into your cervix for just a second, retreating only to seemingly go even deeper on the next stroke

“move your fuckin’ hand.” is almost a whisper when he says it. but his voice is so deep and so sensuous when it slithers through you like that. naturally, your hand goes limp

“f-feel you in my stomach..”

“just means i got you to feel good.”

prefers to give over receive, less for you more for him

armin arlert relaxes by slurping up pussy juice and honestly, good for him!

does a lot of grunting during sex but his voice is just so breathy so it comes out angelic as fuck mmm

armin is also a whisperer during sex like he loves watching u shiver when he gets real close, body already being propelled from the momentum of him fucking you but when he starts whispering nasty shit in your ear as though he’s not in your guts???

mm

just mm.

throws his head back when he’s about to cum

yes with a lip bite cause for some strange reason he tries not to moan like you don’t love that shit..but go off i suppose

physically speaking no his dick is not enormous but it really makes no difference cause honey

stroke game gives rock the boat, rock the boat

im sorry i really wanted to add that AHAHA

nah but armin’s coming in at like 6.5 hard

and that’s ok!

also contrary to popular belief armin is an ass man.

it’s something about a nice ass and pair of thighs that’s gonna get him hard without fail, as he should

eats it from the back too

no i will not elaborate further

also loves it when you break script and don’t play along

he’s always had a thing for the “taming a bad girl” fantasy, possibly attributed to his rule-following mentality with everything else, but hey what do i know

calls u “nasty girl” when you’re getting nutted on

rubs it in w the tip after facials..

armin is a freak y’all better act like you know

#armin a freaky fuck y’all don’t let that bowl cut fool you!!! #no beta no proofread we rawdogging this hoe #aot smut #armin x reader #aot x reader #armin headcanons #armin smut #armin arlert x reader #armin x reader smut #armin arlert

[aclowntiny]

hiii happy 700‼️‼️ you talented, talented writer. you’re just so engaging.. of course you’d gain this audience :p

anywhooo, can i request little scenarios of how the atz members show (what you think) their love languages to their s.o.

🥹🥹🥹 you're too sweet!!! That really means the world to me as someone who dreams of becoming a legit writer someday! Well I'm really glad you're a part of that audience 🥰

Ateez + Love Languages

Hongjoong- Words of Affirmation + Quality Time

♡ Hongjoong knows the feeling of doubting oneself, the journey toward confidence. How some days it feels complete, others are a total step back, but to him, people who love each other will always show their appreciation & support visibly, audibly. He tries to tell you you’re doing enough, but also motivate you to be your best with reminders of how well you’re doing, so you can keep going!

♡ Being so busy, Hongjoong is going to milk the crap out of time you get together. Plus, as someone who sees himself falling slowly for someone & forming an emotional connection, time at your side is how he’s going to feel bonded to you. It upsets him if someone interrupts or if you blow it off by spending it all on your phone or the like.

♡ Compliments your outfits of courseeee! He can tell when you’re either A. Totally rocking your style, thusly he must hype your awesomeness up or B. Feeling less confident if you’re going out of your comfort zone, thusly he shall reassure you that you look amazing in everything! He appreciates you challenging yourself so long as you’re doing it for yourself & feeling ok.

♡ Sometimes all he wants to do is just sit with you & look at you like a lil fool in love because he just can’t believe he gets to be with you 🥺

♡ “You know you can talk to me about anything, right? I won’t judge you. It’s hard to lean on others sometimes, but I want to be someone you can lean on, ok?”

♡ Invites you into his time, like bringing you on coffee breaks or asking you to reform clothes with him. You KNOW the piece you customize is going to become a favorite of his just because it’s had your hands on it & came from your beautiful mind! & how do you know? He tells you so himself 😌

♡ Writes the most poetic love messages on sticky notes & leaves them on your stuff like it isn’t going to short-circuit you before work. Especially since sometimes they can be a bit spicy 🫣

♡ Even at his busiest, he tries to meet you for coffee or lunch breaks, heart leaping at the way you always remind him to eat & drink to stay healthy. Midday breaks work well for your schedule & give him a break from hitting that ‘work wall’ classic of afternoons. You remind him to take care of himself & make his day with your mere presence. It gives him energy, perspective on why he does what he does.

Seonghwa- Acts of Service + Quality Time

♡ He’s naturally very caring & capable, so doing things to take care of you is second nature to Seonghwa. The domesticity also brings joy to his heart, just feeling like you’re living in harmony, swapping tasks like couples in later stages do. It helps him look to the future.

♡ But being together is enough for him, even if it’s doing something small like listening to music together or building a relaxing, simple lego set. Just having you at his side is enough for him, it doesn’t have to be elaborate.

♡ “Oh hey you’re back? While I was housesitting I reorganized your closet & deep cleaned! ☺️” “You what?” You gape. “I didn’t fold the laundry yet, maybe we could do it together?”

♡ ADORES pampering you! Loves doing little spa day type things & doing your hair, anything to feel close to you & help you vent & unwind after your day.

♡ Cooks 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 you 👏🏻 this man will learn how to make your favorite meal if he can so he can surprise you with it! Especially if you have a long day at work.

♡ Please let him talk to you about all the cool Star Wars facts he’s learned or about what he’s collecting, it’ll make him so happy & you get to see Seonghwa all lit up with that wonderful childlike smile of joy. He needs a partner who will listen & support the things he loves 😌

♡ Sick? This guy has you covered! You won’t have to move a muscle. He’ll make you soup, heat a water bottle for you, bring you medicine, put on your favorite comfort show or movie to watch, give you more blankets…shall I go on?

♡ 100 percent a stargazing date guy. Just you & him, bodies tangled & voices hushed in the breeze? SPACE??? Sign Seonghwa up! He’d fly you to the moon to spend time with you if he could!

Yunho- Acts of Service + Gifts

♡ Yunho loves doing little things for you, especially if it’s reaching things up high for someone shorter 😉 it’s like a good version of being devious, like he gets a special proud pleasure over sneakily surprising you with tasks you thought you’d have to do being done. Ha, take that, surprise love & care!

♡ In that same vein, Yunho loves your wide-eyed look when he whips out your favorite dessert or a new accessory or a cute collectible that’ll look perfect on your shelf, anything that made him think of you.

♡ He loves being able to teach you things, so secretly he’s always waiting for you to ask him ‘how’ questions. Seeing your approach to new information is refreshing & he loves feeling like you two are sharing knowledge.

♡ Your shoes are hurting your feet? BUYS YOU A NEW PAIR OF SHOES before the date can continue! He may straight-up carry you some too.

♡ This man will carry ANYTHING you might need in his bag. You take meds? He has some. Have long hair? He’s got hair ties. Need products like pads? A few are squirreled away where the guys won’t see, but you can always find them.

♡ Almost anything you get him, he walks around & shows everyone like it’s made of gold, even if it’s just flowers or chocolates, because you’re his Midas & everything you touch is gold 🥰

♡ Lets you steal pretty much all of his clothing tbh. Thinks it’s so cute to see you in it & can justify with almost anything why you need it more. You’re colder, he has more gloves than you do, you look really hot in it…

♡ Even starts buying things for himself in colors you like hoping you will soon be anticipating you stealing it hehe. Also gets more of the cologne you like the best so they smell how you like 🤭

Yeosang- Quality Time + Words of Affirmation

♡ Being introverted, it’s a big deal for Yeosang when time with another person can still be recharging, still feel like he’s taking some for himself, & with you he has that. You can be comfortable in silence together or just gently holding each other & it’s perfect. Your conversations are so fun, too, as random topics just fly into his head & you play off them so well!

♡ As much as people stereotype him as being sassy, he’s a very sweet & comforting person, too, so he’ll share with you the sweetest nothings! His innocent eyes find beauty in silly little things you don’t even appreciate or recognize about yourself.

♡ Yeosang loves cute activities like tea parties or picnics where you can sit & chat & enjoy scenery, food, & each other’s company! Just quiet time to be side by side away from the world.

♡ Leans in with a conspiratorial expression while you’re out, only to whisper in your ear that you’re beautiful.

♡ Has lowkey always dreamed of doing one of those DIY date nights in with the blanket fort, so that’s what he does one evening when you come over! He has it all built & lit up, but you guys prepare snacks & pick the movie before cozying up inside.

♡ Instead of telling you you’re going to be amazing at everything, Yeosang is the type to be a bit more realistic & remind you that even if it’s not perfect at first, you’ll only get better from there! There’s no such thing as failure, just learning experiences.

♡ Get ready for the most intense eye contact of your life. Yeosang can make you blush with the way he stares at you alone. He can hold so much weight of meaning with just one look.

♡ When you aren’t together, he makes sure to tell you it isn’t the same without you so you never doubt if he misses you or thinks of you when you’re not there.

San- Physical Touch + Words of Affirmation

♡ Cuddly boy 🥲 Sannie hugs you like his life depends on it but don’t worry he also gives the best most loving hugs ever fite me

♡ Confidence hasn’t always been his strong suit, so even if he gets taken aback by it, San really appreciates reminders that he’s doing well & how important he is. Just because he wishes to hear those things doesn’t mean it’s one-sided though, because he easily will say the sweetest encouragement to everyone he loves!

♡ One of his habits is running his thumb across your knuckles or the back of your hand when you’re next to each other 🥺

♡ Looks at any hobby or project you do with sparkling eyes of amazement, telling you how cool it is to have any given random skill! If you show him how he playfully calls you teacher.

♡ If you guys walk by a road, he’ll pull you to the inside so he’s the one walking closest to traffic. & if by chance his hand stays at your waist when you walk, oh darn 🤷🏻‍♀️

♡ Has deep conversations with you where you lay on your backs together, heads lightly touching as you look up at nothing, & discuss things like your place in the world & how you want to be remembered. After it’s all said & done, silence descending again, San tells you you make him feel important & your heart fills at his genuine tone.

♡ As if he can read your mind, he knows when you’re stressed out, & when you are he’ll rub up & down your arm or draw soothing circles on your back.

♡ Texts you good morning every single morning you’re apart & tells you he loves you so loving words are what you wake up to even if he isn’t there to share them 🥲

Mingi- Words of Affirmation + Physical Touch

♡ Mingi enjoys receiving compliments, so he naturally tries to give them too! He loves hyping you up especially if you get all cute & shy.

♡ We’re well aware this man LOVES holding hands! It’s his little habit & he loves the connected feeling of your intertwined fingers. If you hold on tight it makes Mingi feel so loved please do it!

♡ “wOW YOU LOOK SO GOOD BABE OH MY GOSHHHH!!!” “Mingi, that’s embarrassing!” “I don’t care, you’re hot! Woohoo!”

♡ Physically lifts you??? Expect to ride up on Mingi’s shoulders & get carried bridal/style when he feels like scooping you up, either out of mischief or to flirt 😘 it adds some ✨zest✨ to a kiss you know?

♡ The words of others are often put into context. “You know anything negative they say without cause reflects more on them than on you, right?” They may be simple reminders, but they really help.

♡ Gets excited like a big puppy & pulls you around to look at things 🥺 takes you by the hand or shoulder to guide you without thinking most of the time honestly.

♡ Mingi likes to feel needed, so he asks you if you need his help or want him to come with you to do things a lot. On the flip side, he always picks you on his team when he can & asks for your help too, telling you he can’t do whatever he’s doing without you! Calls you his good luck charm!

♡ Big spoon alert! Mingi holds you so tight against his chest like you’re what keeps his heart beating. Probably because you basically are & he’ll tell you that.

Wooyoung- Physical Touch + Gifts

♡ We all know Wooyoung loves to touch & be touched 🤭 it's definitely a way for him to show love & appreciation!

♡ He also absolutely ADORES feeling like he's spoiling you, it makes him feel so proud & seeing your smile at a surprise melts him like little else!

♡ “You got me the necklace I was looking at? But it was so expensive, I-” “Shhh,” smiling proudly, Wooyoung pats your cheek, “don’t worry about that. I wanted to. I already know what your next one will look like too~ That one will have my initials on it!”

♡ Man will have a hand on you CONSTANTLY!!! If you’re sitting next to each other his arm is around your shoulder or his hand is on your knee/thigh. When you walk, his arm is around your waist, linked with yours, or he’s reaching to grab your hand.

♡ Buys ridiculous corny couple items & expects you to actually wear them 😅 but he also gets you tastefully coordinated pieces to his so that makes up for it.

♡ *Puts his hands over your eyes* “Guess who?” POUTS if you get it wrong, but then gives you a hell of a kiss “to jog your memory” 👀

♡ Thinks it’s really dashing to surprise you with flowers, so he’ll pull a single red rose out of nowhere for you, smiling roguishly, or show up at your door with a bouquet in hand!

♡ Sneaks up behind you to tickle you or scoop you into his arms suddenly because he likes the noises of surprise you make & thinks it’s funny if you fight back. Tells you how cute you are no matter how you react.

Jongho- Acts of Service + Quality Time

♡ Being a practical person, Jongho likes finding concrete ways to make your life easier; in his mind, it shows how much he cares in a way that doesn't take up space & serves as a legitimate reminder that he firmly views relationships as partnerships. Neither of you two are truly alone in anything.

♡ In a similar vein, Jongho is a very active listener- when you're speaking, as much as possible his focus & consideration will be on you. When you're together, he sees that as time for bonding, even if you aren't doing anything too romantic or extravagant. The effort & comfort in each other's presence is the most important thing!

♡ You will never lift another heavy object in your life as long as Mr. Choi Jongho can help it. It’ll get scooped right up out of your arms like it’s nothing.

♡ He’ll lowkey smack anyone who tries to interrupt your time together/conversation hehe >:) like shut up, I’m not talking to you!!! I’m talking to my s/o 🤚🏼

♡ It’s not something often thought of as an act of service, but Jongho is really good at coming up with encouraging solutions when you’re stressed & making your problems seem that much smaller once you talk to him.

♡ Jongho really puts effort into going places or doing things you like, even if it’s not his thing. Being pretty tolerant & laid-back, he just rationalizes it as another chance to have time with you. Plus he gets to enjoy seeing you in your element!

♡ Wants to make all your goals reality. If you resolve to start working out more, he’ll go with you to the gym & keep it a habit. Maybe you want to study something? He’ll learn practice questions to ask you or hold your flash cards for you ☺️

♡ Though he’s not the most touchy-feely person, sometimes he likes to backhug you or just drape his arms over you while you sit to feel you & make his presence known, even if you two aren’t having an involved conversation. Most of the time he just stands at your side or behind you because he feels like just being in each other’s presence is reassuring & harmonious.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #gender neutral reader #requested #xlli3

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

Teetering

Tw/Swearing.

Ao3

Previous-Next

There was no sun here, but the day was bright as Damien ran through the garden. The plants chased after him, vines and roots snaking and snapping around his feet. Above him, Phantom floated, weaving in and out of branches. Suddenly, a willow branch snapped forward, and Damien had to duck out of the way: a front roll and a flip as he dodged the greenery. Then a petunia, teeth bared, lunged, and he jumped backward, not seeing the island's edge until he was rocking back. His foot slipped, and for a sickening moment, Damien was falling down into the endless void of the Infinite Realms. Then Phantom catches him and holds him in his arms as they fly to the great tree at the garden's center, where they land on the highest branches. From here, Damien can see the whole island. It is beautiful, lush, and wild, so different from the training grounds back home. He goes to pick one of the odd black fruits, which hang heavy and ripe, but he's stopped.

“Don’t,” Phantom says, “The fruit isn't safe.”

“But I've seen you eat them.”

“Yeah, but I live here.

You have a home to get back to.”

.......................................................................................

Pennyworth was the first to recover. Stepping past the floor-bound form of Todd balled up and wheezing from laughing, though Damian couldn't think what was so funny, he swept what family he could towards the living room. Damien was unsure just how much of the family was planning on joining them for dinner, but for the time being, it seemed to be just the five of them. Phantom, for his part, gathered his board-line hysterical boyfriend up into his arms and followed after. It was odd to see such a thin person carrying a man at least two hundred pounds heavier as if it were nothing. Strange, Damian faintly noticed he was smiling. When did he ever?... No matter.

The sitting room was, like all of the manor, spacious and decadent, with paneled wine-red walls stretching up so high they seemed to curve to the chandelier, not as large or beautiful as the one in the main hall or even the one in the dining room but still magnificent in its own right. If there was one thing Damien appreciated about living in the Manor quite as much as the freedom it afforded him, it was the sheer beauty and care given to each room. As much as he'd hate to admit it, he didn't know how Pennyworth maintained such a large space on his own. There simply where not the hours in the day. Even attempts to shadow the man had proven fruitless in explaining how he managed.

Finally, Todd seemed to have calmed himself to the point where it was no longer a struggle to speak over him. Father, standing stiffly in the corner where the light was weakest and glaring daggers through Phantom, was the first to speak.

"Who are You."

Damien opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off with a sharp glance.

"I mean..." Phantom hesitated, seemingly unsure about how to continue. " I'm Phantom. I used to babysit Dami when he was little."

"You were part of the League of Shadows?"

"No!" Phantom seems somewhat over-emphatic in Damien's opinion, not that anyone had asked.

"No, I'm..." He glanced over to Damien, "I'm the king of the Infinite Realms, Dami just used to visit sometimes when he wanted to get away for a bit and I would keep an eye on him."

"What are the Infinite Realms? How did he get there?"

"Oh you know," he floundered, "League of Shadows... Forbidden magic... all that Fun Stuff."

"Elaborate"

Surprisingly, it was Todd who spoke next.

“Look, the League had a natural portal to the Realms they kept squirreled away ok? It was a whole big secret; only the top members were supposed to even know about it.”

“Like the Lazarus Pit.”

“Yeah,”

“Is it dangerous?”

“It's a giant hole in reality leading to another dimension,” Todd said, irritation evident, “ not a fucking Chucky Cheese. Of course it's dangerous; that's why we closed it.”

“We?” Phantom snorted

“Yeah, yeah Mister I-close-holes-in-reality-for-shits-and-giggles. Not all of us can be fucking One Punch Men. ‘Sides, I helped. Hell knows when you were gonna get around to it if I didn't threaten to leave you sleeping on the couch.”

“Hel doesn't know anything about scheduling and you know it.”

Father cut in, interrupting their fond bickering. Silently, Damien wondered how long Todd and Phantom had been dating.

“So the portal has been taken care of.”

“Yep!” Phantom said, “I closed that dumb thing right up!”

“Are there any others?”

“Yeah, but most natural portals don't stay open long enough to be a problem. A stable portal is a little like a fairy; real, but rare enough that you can keep the salt at home.”

Father blinked, unsure how to react to that answer. Damien remembered this; the strange explanations that brought up more questions than answers. As a child, Damien had always found this extremely irritating. It was reassuring to see that this had not changed.

“What is the Infinite Realm?”

Again, Todd answered.

“Exactly what it says on the tin; it's a realm, and it's infinite. Basically, it's a space between universes connecting them all together, and ‘cause there’s infinite other universes, there’s infinite space between them. It's like driving through Kansas. Most folks don't think about the people who take care of those endless corn fields.”

Father glared at Todd, clearly frustrated with his butting in. He very purposefully turned to Phantom.

“Damien said you were king?”

“Yep! Won the title after I beat the last guy into the ground when he tried to flatten the midwest!”

“What does that mean?” Father gritted his teeth, not used to all of this talking. “What duties come with being King of the Infinite Realms?”

Again, Phantom hesitated, glancing over to Damien as if trying to decipher some great mystery, and again, Todd stepped in. Interesting. Irritating.

“Same shit that comes with being King anywhere. He sits through boring ass meetings and makes sure no dumbasses try and kill each other.”

“Hn”

“So,” Greyson said, stepping purposefully between Father and Todd, “How’d you two meet?”

He flashed his signature “socialite” smile. Phantom met it in a wide parody of a grin, eyes impossibly wide and hair glowing ever brighter. Before he could speak, Pennyworth, who Damien was sure had been by the door leading to the front hall, stepped in from the dining room.

“Excuse me, sirs,” he said, voice as level and unreadable as ever, “but it seems dinner is ready.”

Tag Cultists

@mur-ururu @krzys2000 @soren1830 @fisticuffsatapplebees @emergentpanda-blog @heirxofxtime @plotwholls @phoenixdemonqueen @avalnfear @historyboiiiiii @rangerhorsetug @zgirlxy @mistrfuzzles @thegreawizards @aroranorth-west @emeraldcorpral @the-archer-goddess @gin2212 @undead-essence @eleiteranger

#danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damien wayne #alfred pennyworth #dead on main #danny can't lie #not well anyways #and he's bad at not saying things #Jason has none of these issues #and he loves bugging B #a match made in the zone #Danny doesn't want to tell Damien about the zone because he knows what that kid’s childhood was like #and he wants him to have some good memories untainted by death #he is gonna tell B but he wants to do it in private #tw swearing #Jason can't open his mouth without swearing #also #Pennyworth is weird #more on that later #Dick’s perspective next chapter #I'm working on the AO3 version but I'm gonna have my friend read over that one so it may come out a little different

[senpiecakes]

A Love Not Meant to Be: Childe

Notes: I saw this in my drafts, and I haven't posted anything in this series for a while so I was like 'fuck it, I'm gonna finish it.' (lowkey this made me cry while I listened to the song)

Summary: Hated by everyone, loved by you.

Theme/s: GN!Reader, Angst No Comfort, the world hates you both

Warning/s: Some very mean words from the world. That's about it.

Once More to See You by Mitski

5.5k Words

“I’ll protect you.”

Childe is known to be protective of those he loves. He goes out of his way to spin elaborate lies for his youngest brother to protect his innocence, he makes sure to keep his whole family out of harm's way because of his job, and he will strike down any enemy that dares to threaten his loved ones. In all of that, there was you. You loved Childe dearly, and it was clear he had the same feelings for you. Childe shows you off to his subordinates, pampers you with his wealth and makes sure you’re top priority always. That included your safety. Everywhere you went, bodyguards kept a close distance, if you were out with Childe, he’d keep a secure arm around you, even at home he’d make sure you’re safe- especially when you’re alone. All that you could trust him in. Childe only sees threats in the form of enemies, never in the common folk that walk with you in the streets day to day. 

‘There goes that Fatui’s hound.’

‘Can you believe they’re actually WITH a Harbinger?’

‘I bet you they’re kidnapped or blackmailed.’

Everyday, hushed voices would throw scorn at you and Childe as you passed. You knew of the world’s disdain for the Fatui but you also knew Childe. He was sweet, caring, protective and you knew in your heart he would never hurt you. But you were also aware of his reputation; his strength in battle, his ability to harm warranted or not, his sworn duty to an Archon planning to rid the world of Gods. It was only fair of people to have their opinions about Childe. But you knew deep down how much the man can love- if the rest of the world saw him through your eyes, maybe their opinions of him would change. People feared him, but they had the gall to throw their cowardly vices towards you.

Some days, you tell your bodyguards to lay back for a while, that you can handle yourself while you grocery shop. Despite your commands, they follow you. On those days when you appear to be alone, people made it clear how much they truly hated the man you loved. They would be more vocal about their jeers, going as far as to tell you directly that you should be ashamed for being with him. You’d defend Childe with all that you can and that usually results in many unsavory exchanges.

People refusing to sell you things in fear that Childe may target them, some barring you from their business with the most ridiculous reasons, others even outright mocking you. That’s when your bodyguards step in and you fear that it only escalates things further- that you had to be kept within a wall.

‘I knew you’re a coward, hiding behind that Fatui freak.’

You don’t really think much about these encounters, never speaking a word about it to Childe until your bodyguards inform him of all that’s happened.

“Do you want me to deal with them?” He asks you one night.

“What? No! I can handle myself.” You say.

“Well, alright. Just tell me if anything else happens, okay?”

In truth, you knew if Childe stepped in it would make things worse. You didn’t want him to shoulder all the weight and responsibility of keeping those he loved safe. He already has so many stresses happening at once, one more problem could send him over the edge. And so, you bore through it because you loved him. It was all that you needed.

It was until strange things started happening around your home- the place where you felt the most secure. Rocks thrown at your windows, strangers standing only a few feet away from your doorstep, light acts of vandalism appearing on your property. Only then did you start fearing for your life. You brought the issue up to Childe who kept guard throughout the night, but miraculously, nothing ever happens when he’s at home. It’s only when you’re by yourself that people seem to go out of their way to take out their frustrations of Childe onto you. You didn’t think that people could be so cruel. Then again, they had a reason to hate Childe- but they had no excuse to show their hatred through you. 

Childe always noticed your fears. As much as he tried to relieve it, the world always seemed to push his efforts away. Even as he volunteers to deal with the problem himself, you hold him back. As much as it angers him to see you look so vulnerable, he knows it’ll only make things worse. 

Things came to a boiling point when Childe suggested you two take a walk together around town to take your mind off of things. You were reluctant to be seen with him, which was silly but reasonable. In the end, you agreed and Childe was more observant in his surroundings more than ever. His head was held up high, scanning the crowd who turned away as they met his cold gaze. You on the other hand kept your eyes low on the ground, fearing that someone would be brave enough to cross Childe’s wrath. He noticed this, noticed your shying away as if you were embarrassed to be seen with him, and he could do nothing to ease you of your worries.

It’ll only make things worse.

As you walked, Childe led you away to a place with little to no people- a place where you can breathe. He savors this moment with you. He never really has time to be at home so Childe always makes sure to spend as much time with you as he can, pouring out his heart when he’s absent during the night when you sleep.

“You know, you’re the realest thing I’ve had in a while.” Childe says, taking your fingers in his hands. “Thank you.” He looked at you and was surprised to see your face. Quick was your change of expression- a look of fear as you glanced down at his hand, then back up at Childe. Your eyes, wide and worried, wandering around the near-empty streets as you took your fingers away by impulse and smiled awkwardly.

“Ah… well, let’s get going before it gets too dark.”

It was clear how much of a toll the fear had on you. You barely went out to shop anymore, spending your days and nights locked up in your house, counting down the days for Childe’s return from a mission. He worries about you, even more so when you start acting differently towards him. You’re silent, shrinking away from his touch, never wanting to go out for dinners and always afraid of seeing him off- even if it was just at your front door. You worried about your long term future with him. You wanted life with Childe to be normal- that one day if would just be the two of you living a mundane but peaceful life. Childe was angry and heartbroken; angry at the fact that he is powerless to change the minds of people, to stop them from seeing his infamy through you. Heartbroken at the fact that you drift away because of the very same people that convince you that loving him was a sin. Childe needed to take you out of there.

And so, you move. He takes you to his missions and you find temporary housing in whatever nation his job lands him in. You thought you could handle it, that starting fresh would be what’s best, but it seemed that this lifestyle was far more exhausting than the one you had before. You never had a home; whenever you felt comfortable in your new living space, Childe always finishes up his mission before you even get the chance to look around the place. You don’t get to stay for long anyways; the longer you stay, the more people recognize Childe and soon you are back in the cycle of hate. As much as Childe tried to keep you from harm's way, it never felt safe. It was draining, but you held on for Childe’s sake. He just wanted to keep you safe.

“Let’s go back home to Snezhnaya.” Childe suggested one night. “I think it’ll be good for both of us.” You knew why Childe wanted to go back home. He needed peace away from the dangers of his duty and you were more than happy to be there with him. Still, you can’t really shake off the paranoia you’ve acquired after running away for so long.

“What about your work?” You ask.

“I’ve requested a time off. I’ve been doing great anyways.”

“We can’t stay with your family.” You say silently, looking down at your hands. “We can’t risk it. After all the places we’ve been, people are bound to recognize me now.” 

“I know.” Childe responds. “I rented us a cabin in the forest. Just the two of us.”

Soon enough, you found yourself in the winters of Snezhnaya, in a little wooden cabin surrounded by tall trees, blanketed by snow under the dome of endless sky. It really was just the two of you. Childe watches in adoration as you feel yourself feeling free for the first time in a while. He smiles as you do back at him, bounding through the snow and into his open arms. 

Childe hasn’t felt you this close in so long. He’s gone on nights and on days you’re withdrawn. He wants to get carried away with you. Your comforting embrace was almost enough to send him over the edge.

“I missed you.” He whispers in your ear, tone mirroring that of a desperate man waiting to be satisfied.

He wants to devour you like a wolf; caught between your teeth and tongue like a ravaged, hungry animal waiting for the warmth that comes with death as soon as he takes the first bite. And all that Childe has ever known was hunger; to hunt and to take what was never given to him. He will kiss till you are breathless, till your skin burns with desire and lips shed the blood he once ravaged others to get- to release the tension built up in his bones when he failed to protect you from the world. But he is in your hands. He’d let you tame him if it meant he’d get to feel your love like the way he used to.

Tonight, as you spare him a fluttering kiss, sweet like candy and warm like the blood he craves- Childe falters. You barely have your lips on his, but as soon as he feels the delicate brush of your skin, the slight exhale through your nose on his cheek as if to say you feel secure, Childe is at the mercy of the prey that was once in his control. He will not bite the hand that feeds him, and so, he simply closes his eyes and sinks into the innocence of your willingness to be in his grasp. His mind races with all the things that had happened to the both of you. You endured so much for him and the thought of that makes Childe feel guilt like never before.

The world slows to let Childe’s heart thrum madly in his chest. He feels you inch in closer, fingers interlocking with him as he feels the tension leave your shoulders, the weight of fear from the past now gone. You’re with him. You’re both alone. You’re safe. 

Childe will not be the monster the world portrays him to be- not especially around you. But even if you see him in his prime- blue waves crashing into violent lighting- how could you kiss him like he’s a man fit to hold the beauty of the world? He’s shown you how childish, immature, selfish and brash he could be, all the while he stubbornly wants to keep you at his side for his sake. Even then, you chose to stay. You didn’t want to push him away. Childe feels as though he doesn’t deserve this.

Tell me, he thinks. How could you love me for who I am?

“How could you still be with me for all the things I’ve done?” Childe mumbles, voice breaking as he pulls you in. “The blood on my hands, the lives it took-“ You stop him. Childe falls silent and your response nearly makes him lose his composure.

“You were just a kid.” You whisper, taking his face in your steady hands. “You were never given a choice.” Childe breathes hard as he studies your hardened eyes, scolding him almost. He wasn’t the type to show weakness, not with you, not with gentle scolding. But this- you’re giving him a choice- a choice of freedom. To be unshackled by the consequences of his past and allow him to be vulnerable, even for just a second. 

The snowfall was quiet, and so were you. You knew what you had to say and Childe knows what it was. He just didn’t want to accept it.

“You know we can’t keep running away, Childe.”

Childe doesn’t answer and instead looks away, his eyes darting back and forth, refusing to look at you. His jaw was tight and his hands were clenched into a fist. You soften at the sight. You know that looks all too well. It was Childe’s way of showing fear. He wasn’t really afraid- only frustrated and fearful of the consequence of his actions. He knows deep down that he can’t keep running. He can’t take you with him and he refuses to let you go. You’re tired, he knows that, he just doesn’t ever want to lose you.

“Ajax,” you say, your hand landing on Childe’s cheek. He nearly flinches away from your touch, but instead he relents and allows himself to melt into you- his kiss finding home in the warmth of your palms. “What are you so afraid of?” Truth be told, Childe wasn’t as brave as he presents himself to be. He was just a person like everyone else; he had his own fears, worries, doubts and regrets. Many of those he did on his own, but now they’ve caught up to him, and he is more afraid of consequences now than he has ever been. All because of you. Childe ran away from all those problems before, but if those consequences catch up to him, they’d cost him you. You who fought with him so bravely- never afraid of him and his tainted past. You who stuck by him even when the world seemed to treat you like an outcast for even associating yourself with him. You who had sacrificed everything for him, defended him when he refused to do the same for himself. He was given a glimpse of the risks that came with his dangerous job. Soon, people would find the courage to test his strength. By all means, it would always cost you your freedom.

“Of you.” Childe says finally. “I’m scared of everything because of you.” It was hypocritical of him to think this way, especially since he was the one who put your life at risk and your reputation hanging on by a string. But you were braver than him in a way that was sane- and you still had the courage to look at him as if he were just any other person in the world. His dream of normalcy, you never took it away.

“Then why don’t you leave me?” Childe scoffs

“It’s not that easy for me to do that, you know?” He says with a weak laugh. He can’t leave you alone. He doesn’t want to, he would never want to.

“Then I’ll do it for you.” You say. “I’ll go far away and things will go back to normal.”

Childe looks at you surprised. He knows you’re doing this for his own sake and yours, that you’re doing what’s best even if it hurts. But why does he feel so betrayed? Why would you of all people leave him that quickly with all those promises and hopes and dreams for the future? Why would you be the one to crush them? Did any of it mean nothing? Why was it so easy for you to abandon what you had with him? Childe wanted to fight, argue and win you over again and again even if it meant you both had to go through heartbreak together. He needed you. He wanted to battle- but instead you calmed him with a look. A look he knew so well, so pleasant, that Childe’s sea of emotions ebbed and he gave you space to talk.

“You’re joking, right? Tell me you’re joking.” He says incredulously. You don’t answer. “Y/N, come on-”

“I love you, Childe, but this isn’t healthy for either of us.” You say. Childe shakes his head in protest but stays silent, allowing your words to penetrate him painfully as he lets the gravity of your situations sink in. You were right, he can’t keep running.

“You can protect me all you want, but we can’t live like this. You have jobs to do, places to go where I can’t, and I can’t keep fearing for my life when I’m with you. I love you, but I can’t… we can’t escape this, we can’t run away.” You say. “The best thing we can do is to get away from each other.”

“No, don’t do this to me!” He begs, almost angry. Childe doesn’t look at you and instead looks down at his feet, his teeth gritting and jaw tight as you hold his face and will for him to look.

“If you love me, then you wouldn’t do this, you wouldn’t leave me.” He argues. You shake your head but he continues. “You’ll just be like everyone else if you do. You’ll betray me by leaving because you’re just like everyone else!” Childe was guilting you into staying. He knows how wrong it was, how selfish he was being, but he thought it would be the only way to keep you by his side. It was the only way he knew how. 

“You and I both know that isn’t true.” You say. Childe balls his fists a shadow looms over his already darkened eyes. 

“If you really loved me, you would stay.” His voice was a silent, forceful anger that made you pity him. But this, whatever you two had, was destructive; it hurt you both and you knew well that Childe would destroy himself and a million more just to get what he wants- just to keep you with him.

“I do love you, Childe,” You say and a hopeful shine appears in his eyes. “But not enough to make me want to stay.” And in a flash, it’s gone. Despair washes over Childe’s expression, soon replaced by anger and desperation. He towers over you, a dark aura emanating from his gaze. 

“You’re a liar.” Childe spits out, venom lacing his tone. You stand your ground- you knew well Childe would never hurt you. He never had space to deal with his emotions in a healthy manner, and you knew this tantrum was to mask the true feelings of hurt he had inside. He didn’t want to be seen as weak and vulnerable, even if it were you. 

You were lying. You loved Childe so much it hurt- but this relationship between you two had terrorized you far worse. As much as you loved him, as much as he meant to you, you needed to save yourself. You sacrificed so much and risked everything in your life to be with him. You knew him better than anyone and saw him in a light that nobody else was willing to. You loved him as Ajax- the loving caring brother and family man that would do anything to protect those he loved so they would never have to go through the same thing he did. At the same time you loved Childe- the powerful, cocky and reckless Harbinger loyal to the Tsaritsa and even more loyal to you. But even that wasn’t enough. The world saw how much you truly loved Childe and decided to take advantage of that by pitting itself against you. It really was just the two of you against the world- but you had your limits, and Childe couldn’t be the person to fight alongside you if he tried. He tried, you tried, but nothing was enough.

“Please, Childe, look at me.” You say. “It might be the last time I’ll see you.”

“No!” He yells. “It’s not the last time! There won’t be a last time! You’re not leaving, I’ll see you again tomorrow and I can look at you all I want because you’re not leaving me! You would never do that to me!” Childe hugs you tight, his body trembling against you and choking sobs escape his throat. “Please, Y/N, I don’t want to be alone.” 

You never thought you would ever see a Harbinger in this state- walls crumbling and image shattered from fear of all things. You thought the Harbingers were never afraid, that Childe would be the last person you’ll see look so distraught after all he went through. Then he looked at you dark blue eyes filled with tears, his brows furrowed and suppressed sobs making their way past his lips. You envision the young boy within him; robbed of this childhood, his innocence, still carrying the fear and trauma of the days he was taken away from his safety. Childe found his new safeplace in you, and the fear of losing it, losing you, the hope and dreams he so precariously planned with you, coupled with the loneliness and isolation that would come after you leave- of course he was going to be afraid. But you feared for your life- you didn’t want to risk Childe’s to save yours. And so, you turn away to leave but Childe grabs you.

“Childe, let me go.” You assert, tugging your wrist away from his tightening grip. He stares you down, wishing that it wouldn’t have to come to this.

“No, you can’t leave me.” He says. “You need me.” His tone was menacing, the same he uses against his subordinates to make them submit. This annoys you for some reason- to think that Childe had the nerve to see you as someone as lowly as those men and women under him- you thought you were both way past that. You angrily take your wrist away from him and start yelling- a version of you that Childe has never seen before. You didn’t know why you yelled, you didn’t understand why a red hot anger surged through your chest. You released every form of frustration you had on him; your fears, your regrets, the way you hated how he was so stubborn, the way you hated how he never admits he was wrong, how every bit of your life was stripped away the moment you told him you loved him. Everything. Tears well in your eyes with each word you say, and even more so when Childe decides to fight back. You thought that you trying to push him away like this would prompt him to let you go, not spiral into this form of chaos. You knew well that Childe would never give up an opportunity to fight; there’s no turning back now.

This was like any battle Childe would have trained to fight. It wasn’t like anything he had ever experienced from those before- the thrill, the excitement, his heart racing for more, more, more. Not tonight, not with you. You two were in war- fighting each other with the harshest words, sharp tongues, insults and arguments thrown so carelessly at the others deepest fears and insecurities. You were someone that knew Childe better than anybody, so this, the ache in Childe’s heart almost felt agonizing. He’s never seen you look so defeated. It’s as if it hurts you to even say these things to him out of anger. He hated the way your voice echoed the words his own mind would tell him; he hated the way your hands restrained themselves into fists by your side; he hated how tense your shoulders were, how your eyes looked so sad. He hated the way you mirrored those who tried so hard to break you in a pitiful attempt to make him feel what you felt.

Even from before as strangers berated you for even being with him, your life turned upside down for even being associated with him, you always put up such a strong front. Childe admired that, even more so now as he felt that he could shrink at the sheer magnitude of emotions that flooded out of you all because of him. Childe listened to you rant, your words becoming warbled as his head pounded with the strength of his own voice. He didn’t even know what he was saying at this point- only watching you cry and shout- wishing for nothing but to pull you in his arms and comfort you even while you’re still furious at him. Even if you beat, kick and punch your way out of his arms, just stay, he thinks. 

Stay with me.

If it meant he’d lose everything else, Childe was willing to let this be the first battle he’ll lose. And what greater reward was it to lose against someone he loves?

“I can’t do this anymore, Childe,” you cry silently, your voice barely making it past your strained throat. He hears you, loud and clear. “I love you, but I can’t.”

Childe is silent.

The fallout was devastating, comparable to the collapse of a dying star. It was explosive and angry and destructive beyond what you could have anticipated. It was dangerous on both ends- the freefall of the damage reaching far beyond the ground zero of everything that surrounded the two of you. The echo of the forests that surrounded you two in the silence of winter felt the weight of you and Childe’s booming voices yelling louder above one anothers- shouting words you both would have never expected to hear the other say. It was painful, to you, to Childe and to the universe that knew of the relationship you had in secret- how the world watched your love bloom and beautify like a flower- and like a flower it wilted into the cold. It was ugly and it shouldn’t have been in the first place.

But at the same time, it was colorful and beautiful and bright. Twin flames bursting with far more hues than the searing red you saw in fury, the gentle blue of his tearful, empty eyes- a kaleidoscope of colors springing to life once the initial flames died down to a spark from where they’d started. The whispering, hushed voices, exhausted and only realizing the gravity of your situations. The once harmful words full of spite and venom now replaced by half-hearted apologies that carry the weight of your entire hearts, the words Childe cannot say. Like a star flickering out of its last few breaths, it explodes, furious and catastrophic, but it’s wonderful all the same. The rebirth of a new galaxy, the start of life anew. But for the both of you, it was still in the in-between; the slow, gradual explosion of a supernova, not yet ready to start over. That would be far, far into the future; right now, Childe stares into your tired, reddened eyes, seeing nothing but sadness and pity, and a glimpse into what could have been your future with him. That was the moment he calmed down, the star finally settling within itself to wait another million years of stasis until it could start over. The way Childe loved you was sincerely heartfelt, but the world was not ready to allow him to be happy.

Childe needed to make a choice. His hands tremble and fall to his sides, steeling himself for the moment you would look at him, finally seeing him for who he really is. Childe looks down, refusing to even glance at you, unable to confront the fact that his delusional want of hopes and dreams would just be that; a hope and a dream. He’ll just bear through the pain in silence, only listen when you would eventually turn your heels and walk away. Instead, Childe feels the lightness of your grip around him, your arms wrapped around his frame so surely, and the delicate plush of your kiss on his lips. In that moment, when he feels your shaking body against his beginning to hesitantly pull away, Childe breaks. His composure weakens as he sobs against your lips, shaking fingers not knowing where to touch you- wanting to reach for you so badly- but he doesn’t know how. He felt like he couldn’t, it would hurt too much, but if he didn’t, he would regret not wanting to when he had the chance. And so, he pulls you in, so close, so tight, that he feels he can never ever let you go. Childe hears your muffled sobs against his lips, your hands placed on his chest not knowing if you should push him away or pull him even closer. If he could live in this moment, he would for a million years; he would freeze time and let it be so that the two of you could live on happily. 

When you break away, still feeling the need to gravitate towards each other, Childe smiles dumbly despite the situation. You follow suit.

“Gods…” You mumble, wiping away your own tears. “Will it always be like this if we fight? We kiss and make up?” Childe chuckles weakly.

“I wouldn’t really mind that.” 

Silence again, and the snow begins to fall. Your gaze wanders ‘round the now still forest that cushioned your arguments and your eyes fixate on the sun beginning to set.

“It’s getting dark.” You say, and Childe nods in agreement. Tentatively, he takes your hand and leads you both back into the cabin, the fire now long gone, but the heat never leaving your skin. 

You two went about that night in complete silence- never once uttering a single word to each other until it was finally time to sleep on your shared bed. Only then, when you decide to sleep on your side and fully expected Childe to stay in his, did you feel the relief of comfort when he wrapped you in his arms and pull you close. You nestled yourself in his warmth and breathed in the frost of the night. Silence was broken by Childe once more.

“You’re free to make a choice, Y/N,” he mumbles. “If you choose to leave, just know I’ll never be mad at you for it.” You feel Childe’s embrace tighten as he says it. You nod and hold his roughened hand, kissing his knuckles and burying yourself under the covers.

“Goodnight, Ajax.”

Childe didn’t sleep that night. He listened to the whistling breeze from outside and the occasional movements you’d make. He thinks about all the events that led up till now; how life snowballed into this catastrophe of a situation you both were in. He thinks about how different life for him would be if he hadn’t met you. He won’t be happier then; Childe loves you too much to imagine a life wherein your absence would be his downfall. At the same time, your life would ultimately be better without him in it. He pictures your smiling face amongst the crowd, everyone happy to see you’ve arrived because he isn’t there to taint your reputation. How different things would be for you both if you hadn’t met.

Childe had a choice, you’ve given him one. As much as it pains him to do this to you, to do it to himself, he knew in his heart he had to do it. 

Silently, before the sun breaks out into dawn, Childe prepares himself for the inevitability of loneliness once he steps out the door. He watches you for a moment and ultimately decides that staying for a second longer would be far more painful. And so, he left silently in the sunrise, in the snow where he’ll be in the far, far future. When you woke that morning, you braced yourself of the dread that came with Childe’s absence. You knew deep down he’ll leave. He never wanted to be the selfish one, but tonight, he needed to be- for your sake. You breathed in the cold winter air and willed yourself to look at the note he left on the side that was once his. So little words, yet it had been enough to have you shatter.

‘Please forget me.’

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[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 24

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Dance

(Six Years Timeskip) 

“Larys remains firm on having you supplanted as Daegon’s regent,” he explained, entering the room with a letter on his hand. She scoffs - continuing to rock her second son, Daelon, to sleep. Larys was an idiot who tried to scheme behind her back - but she had eyes everywhere. There were rumors about Saera - that she burnt her husband to death. “It does not matter, no one believes him.” she dismisses, earning a groan from her husband. 

She was quick to underestimate the firefly, but Daemon knew that Larys’ treachery ran cold and deep. “Mysaria tells me that he is Alicent’s closest confidant.” he reasoned, a prompt sigh escaped her mouth. 

She was under the impression that there would be freedom after her marriage to Daemon - but after Harwin’s death, chaos followed. “I do not wish to return to the Capital. We’re fine here, Daemon.” she sighed. He takes a callous stop towards her, pressing a soft kiss on the top of her head - he looks down on his son, smiling. 

“There are vipers upon your father’s throne - prowling and sucking the blood off our dynasty. Alyssa tells me that our tapestries of Valyria have been replaced with those of the Seven Gods.” Daemon elaborates, wanting to return home and make a massacre of the Hightowers. “I know - we must defend our home.” she groaned, biting the inner corner of her lips. 

“We’ll return to Kingslanding.” she breathed - longing for the embrace of her daughter. 

—

She could hardly recognize the red keep. Its walls held pictures of the Seven Gods - bloody symbols that reminded her of Maegor’s war with the faith. “Muña,” Alyssa smiled - running to embrace her mother. 

Saera’s daughter has grown into a beautiful lady - with silver curls and dark violet eyes. “Alyssa,” she smiled - pressing a kiss on her cheek. “I saw the carriages from my room, then our sigil.” she beamed, glancing at Viserra and Daelon who were wrapped around the arms of their father. 

“Is this them?” she laughed, running to carry Daelon. “He looks like your mother,” Daemon notes, adjusting Viserra on his hips. Alyssa nods, staring at her little brother’s face. “He has the same nose,” she added, her brother steps down from his horse. “Alyssa,” he greets - eyes searching for Helaena in the crowd. 

She wasn’t there. 

“Daegon,” his sister smiles, leading them towards the warmth of the castle. 

—

Daemon shoves the curtains of his brother’s bed away from his face, his eyes ever softly peeking on the body laying down. His brother was writing in pain and agony - a mere shadow of his old self. “Kepa,” Saera beckoned, sitting on the bed. There wasn’t a great love between them, for he favored Rhaenyra the most - but for Viserys’ grandchildren, he adored all of them equally. 

“Alicent?” he asked weakly, eyes narrowing to see the figure in front of him better. His eyes were milky, his face showed signs of sickness. “Tis’ Saera, kepa.” she corrects with a soft voice - and he hums. The cause of his headaches. “Ahh, I see.” he hums, staring at his brother’s face - who hasn’t aged a day since marrying his daughter. 

“Brother,” he greets - a shadow of a smile on his face. Viserys looks at the children in front of him. “And who are they?” he smiled, showing his teeth that were half black. “Viserra and Daelon. She is five, and Daelon is a year old.” she introduced, placing a hand on her daughter’s head - showing her father that they were strong - and of true Targaryen blood. “We named her after you, brother.” Daemon added, hoping that Viserys was sane enough to appreciate it. Saera looks behind her - motioning for her oldest son to come closer. 

“This is Daegon, kepa - he is Lord of Harrenhal now.” Saera nods, combing through her son’s thick hair. A chuckle escapes the king’s mouth - “No longer the little boy that used to sit on my lap,” he continues chuckling until his body bucks due to the pain that he was feeling. 

A hurtful groan escapes his mouth, one of the maesters attempts to take a step closer. “Give me my tea,” he demanded - a servant hands him a goblet of white watery liquid. Before Daemon could stop him, he was already guzzling down the substance, emptying it - and not sparing a drop. 

Saera and Daemon share a confused glance. Daemon takes it from his brother’s hand, bringing the goblet closer to his nose - smelling the contents. “Milk of poppy,” he whispers - watching as his brother falls into unconsciousness. 

—

Alicent lowered her eyes under questioning. She began to curse the day that they arrived, for their line was hard to fool and not easily sent away - unlike Rhaenyra. 

“He was not like that when we left him.” Saera’s lips thinned, Alicent began to scowl. The Princess has been gone for six years, change was far due. 

“His health has declined, and on the advice of the maesters-” 

“The same maesters who have kept him addled on milk of poppy, so you and your father could warm my brother’s throne.” Daemon interrupts, sitting coolly on the gothic chair. He stares at his nails, finding them more interesting than the sight in front of him. “If you think it unnecessary, then you should see him without it. He’s always in pain - the poppy allows him to drowse into comfortable sleep.” she reasons, Daemon rolls his eyes. 

It was clear where the Hightower’s loyalty was, not to the realm or House Targaryen but to their own. “You cannot convince me that your decisions are for the realm, when Alyssa tells me that you plan on giving Driftmark to Lord Vaemond - stripping Prince Lucerys of his titles as heir - and by extension, my sister’s claim to the throne.” Saera accused. 

A bitter chuckle escapes the Queen’s mouth. “My decisions are for our family, my princess. Who is it that has taken care of your daughter during your absence? None but me.” she reasoned, pretending that she was given a tedious task. “Alyssa has done well on her own, not because of your guidance.” Daemon clears his throat, beginning to stand up and walk towards the ladies. 

Alicent’s eyes widened - realizing that she wasn’t getting away from what she’s done. “As a matter of face, I proposed an engagement for Princess Alyssa years ago to the King.” she brought up - the couple raises their eyebrows. “A marriage between her and my son, the king tells me that he would provide them a castle if the marriage pulls through.” she endorsed. 

Daemon clenches his fists at the thought of his little girl married off without a choice. “You may leave, Alicent.” he enunciates her name, showing her that there was no respect for traitors that attempt to commit treason. 

next chapter>>

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#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen headcanon #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fluff #house targaryen #house of the dragon #daemon headcanons #daemon prince #daemonism #hotd daemon

[decayedgloria]

obey me characters and their visions

Or what I think are their visions idk it’s 3 am and I just found out I failed my pathology exam so here’s a crossover of two games that provides me an escape from this putrid reality 😁

also just trying to get rid of drafts rn

Tags: sfw, pure crack speculation, I’m going insane, obey me demon brothers and undateables and luke, genshin impact visions, everything here is MY OPINION and should not be taken seriously, feel free to disagree with me

Lucifer

-He strikes me as the type to either have a hydro vision or a geo vision

-more leaning towards hydro

-hydro vision holders tend to be dedicated to their work and uphold their own view of justice, more often than not being protectors of some sort i.e Candace and Aaru village, Ayato with the Kamisato Clan

-I draw parallels between him and Ayato because they both have gone through hell and back for their families (often literally) and have had to salvage tarnished reputations in order to protect said family

-also very rich and elegant men who have a “dark side” that most aren’t aware of

-It’s also just every hydro character being really sophisticated and elegant tbh he fits the vibe I think (minus Childe but he has his moments)

-Geo because, well… look at him. He’s prime geo vision material. Like a rock solid wall holding up the HOL but like he’s also hanging by a thread lol.

Mammon

-Geo Vision, Hear me out on this.

-Not only does it suit his color palette, but if you think about it, Mammon places a lot of responsibility on himself to be a good older brother to his siblings (despite falling short most times), we see this especially during Nightbringer

-Geo’s thing is literally responsibility. Every geo user has some sort of responsibility that they themselves have chosen to undertake, whether or not they can handle it

-They’re all also quite stubborn. Once they’re dead set on something they will never let it go, and on top of that they also protect either someone or something

-Every geo user has a goal relating to something to do with material or status: Ningguang and the Tianqiu, Noelle wanting to be in the KOF, Zhongli wanting to retire (lmfao). Mammon wanting to be rich (and wanting him and his brothers to be at the top of the Devildom in Nightbringer) literally fits.

-Mammon, despite being a goofy character, fits into geo so perfectly it’s actually insane.

-Mammon and Itto are the same person. I’m not elaborating.

Levi

-Electro vision all the way.

-It’s no surprise. Canonically he’s seen as a weirdo, even by his brothers (not me tho I love my men a little pathetic) and he doesn’t spend much time mingling with others, so of course he’s gonna be singled out

-almost every single electro vision holder is outcasted by at least one society; Beidou being cast out of her village, Fischl being thought of as eccentric because of her personality, the literal electro archon becoming a shut-in

-He would absolutely get the vision probably in like the early part of Nightbringer when we got stuck in the TSL universe and he had to make a decision

-(if you’re wondering why I keep bringing up Nightbringer it’s bc it’s the one I’m currently playing ok)

-Levi also passes the “I have a scary animal that helps me fight” thing. Henry’s quite formidable when he’s back to normal size :)

Satan

-Hm, thinking about it and at first I’d say dendro is the obvious answer but there’s also quite a few other contenders actually.

-Pyro is one of them, and when drawing parallels Diluc comes to mind (obvs grumpy men stick together always.) As the avatar of wrath, he’s like mad 80% of the time and I can imagine him raining hellfire upon everything (and he has, best believe).

-But also he’d fit the “passionate” description, he’s so passionate about books and magic that he’d literally kill for a book that he wanted (and did I’m pretty sure). He’d also be considered passionate for hating Lucifer so much I think

-he also has quite the past to fit with a pyro user, especially during Nightbringer when he’s still coming into terms about being basically a baby demon and learning to confront his brothers and finally accept them

-Dendro is quite obvious for him. He craves knowledge from books, and I’m sure if he were in Teyvat he’d find his way in the Akademiya just to get into the House of Daena’s restricted section

-I think either or could be his vision, depends on which Satan you’re talking about (Nightbringer Satan and main timeline Satan are two vastly different individuals)

-if you really wanna get into it tho, cryo/electro's pretty... fitting. Especially for nightbringer Satan. Even if his brothers try not to make him feel like it, he will always be different from them; the fact that he basically was made to replace Lillith in a sense, and he distances himself away from them because he just doesn't fit in.

-all in all he's so versatile realistically he could have like 4/7 visions since his character is so dynamic between the two games

Asmodeus

-Now this was harder to come up with, but after giving it some thought I think he’d have an Anemo vision

-think of it this way. In Nightbringer take a shot everytime I bring that game up his whole arc in the beginning was learning to let go of the celestial realm and accepting the fact that he was a demon now, effectively granting himself the freedom to love himself once more

-Anemo is the element of freedom right? He fought himself and his inner demons for freedom like that, which happens to a lot of those who are granted this vision (Wanderer and Xiao moment)

-Thats really all I have for him. Tbh, the only other vision I could see him wielding his pyro, but I couldn’t think of anything else I can say that hasn’t already been said

-another short anemo king go figure (he and heizou would get along I think)

Beelzebub

-another one I had to really think of, but upon further deliberation with myself I'm thinking pyro again (the default vision lmfao)

-Yes. Passion for food, he'd get along with Xiangling quite well (too well, imagine her in the devildom holy shit)

-Also pretty passionate about working out and protecting his brothers, so there's that lol

-I am stumped on him bc he's like lowkey just there bro like

-how would he even get his vision idk man

-but imo pyro is the default vision so he gets it (feel free to disagree with me)

Belphegor

-If you think this guy does not have an anemo vision you are wrong

-like dead mf wrong he is anemo all the goddamn way

-he lost his sister and still blames himself for it, but he also wants to be free with his brothers in the devildom

-the other vision i would give him is electro because he does tend to like, shut himself off or whatever so there's that

-but he's 100% anemo I don't make the rules sorry

-first tall male anemo user?? (surprisingly he's 5'10 guys it's probably all that sleep he does lmfao)

Diavolo

-hmmmm, such a hard decision I wonder what vision I would give to the literal prince of hell- pyro.

-jk jk let me explain

-Pyro, because as I've stated before, it is both the default vision imo and also the vision for those who are passionate IMO (I cannot stress this enough)

-Diavolo is very passionate about RAD, and the whole "demons getting along with other species" concept is something he has been working very hard on (man is trying to end specieism in the obey me verse)

-on top of his outgoing and friendly personality, pyro really does fit him like a glove. I could make an argument for geo because he shoulders a fuck ton of responsibility for the devildom (esp in nightbringer) but like

-he is warm and friendly and strong, perfect pyro material

Barbatos

-I needed to think about this one for a bit, but after further deliberation with the screams that echo in my head, I am confident in saying that this man has an anemo vision

-if he were in the genshin universe he'd def be one of the shady people from celestia (bro is literally istaroth but i digress)

-as much as anemo fits him aesthetically, I also want to point out that he just... gives people freedom? Like the first half of nightbringer was him finally fulfilling someone's wish to go to heaven to see their lover

-he also just parallels a lot with venti, idk i just see him being very fitting with an anemo vision

-like, he's immortal yet does not look it (Scara, Xiao, Venti), downplays his power to appear "normal" in a sense that he won't be an immediate threat to those perceiving him (Venti), saw a pyro kid and decided to adopt them and begrudgingly take care of them no matter how annoying they are (Xiao and Hu Tao though I may be reaching)

Luke

-bro does not have a vision yet (jk its cryo)

-I feel like he'd be given a hydro vision solely for the fact that he is changing his, quite frankly specie-ist, ways lol (like eula hello?)

-he is quite shy when mc first met him, the only reason why he didn't immediately get mad at them is because they weren't a demon and that's saying something

-he tends to be very guarded around said demons, often becoming aggressive when interacting with them but he's warming up. It's like a wall of ice slowly melting through the mc and simeon's guidance

-he also reminds me of mika for some reason

Solomon

-he has an electro vision and yes, it's exactly the same situation as Lisa

-though he doesn't need one (none of them do tbh), I feel like he wanted one just for shits and giggles like I definitely see him being a descender on Teyvat

-he's literally the most powerful human in the obey me verse, of course he's going to be viewed differently from others even though he "tries" to not be too overt about it (very, very big emphasis on tries. I think he only does it for mc atp)

-I feel like he'd get along well with the electro ladies as well, particularly Miko and Lisa (Gorou and Luke need to hide like asap)

-in all seriousness though, he just fits into electro so well given all the character traits present in electro wielders

-another vision I could see him having is dendro, partly because he's always down to have more knowledge about magic that he doesn't know yet and is in constant pursuit of creating pacts with the demon brothers

Simeon

-another hydro wielder :)

-calm, collected, elegant, sticks to their principles- classic hydro archetype tbh I love him so much

-again, very similar to Lucifer's reasoning but he leans more towards hydro wielders like Nilou and Candace I think, who are quite relaxed but won't hesitate to protect what they love and fight for what they deem is right

-spoiler warning: he literally got cast out of heaven for the mc.

-as I've said before, there really isn't anything I can add that I haven't said before, other than the fact that Simeon would definitely enjoy Xinqiu's company and possibly get along with Furina when discussing acting and the arts

-other than hydro, I don't think any other vision suits him tbh (big maybe on anemo but like, it doesn't really fit tbh)

I am so fucking bad at character analysis but here you guys go

the labor of my sleepless night while i gather more motivation to write the second chapter of madame neuvillette

also i am so very tempted to start writing for other fandoms but this blog is enough for now tbh

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me nightbringer #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me luke #obey me simeon #omswd #obey me crack #obey me crossover #genshin impact crossover #obey me spoilers

[quarantineddreamer]

Yours to Hold

For Fluffbruary Day 13 (Choice)

To be perfectly honest: my brain is still not quite with it these days. But, I'm holding out hope that the fog will clear at some point soon (plz) and in the meantime here's a little one-shot I managed! Hope it's enjoyable 💜 (Click above to read on AO3 or see below the cut)

It had been months since Scarif. Most of it he had spent recovering from his injuries. All of it, he had spent wondering why he could face death more easily than he could face life, face her and all she represented. Hope. Happiness. Home.   He had come outside to think, hoping the bracing cold might clear his head and deliver an answer. He knew how he felt about her, knew what he wanted. What he was searching for was the courage to try–to choose a future that extended beyond the next mission; something permanent and lasting and full of possibilities. Something not for the Rebellion, but for himself. Something to be shared…

Of all the planets Cassian had been sent to during his time with the Rebellion, Hoth was by far his least favorite.

Maybe it was because it was frigid as hell.

Or maybe it was because the loose snow sliding beneath his foot had a tendency to remind him of sand…

Or because sometimes, when a storm blew in, the horizon disappeared, a blinding white, returning him to the awful edge of oblivion; a planet devoured before his very eyes…

Already, dark clouds were beginning to encroach upon the brief glimpse of blue sky he had managed to snatch. By his estimate he had maybe fifteen minutes left in the fresh air before he would need to retreat back into the gloom of Echo Base. He dreaded the thought, his head aching in memory of the harsh halogen lighting, chest tightening as he pictured the maze of tight, winding tunnels leading to crowded and too-small ‘rooms’.

Sure, on Yavin 4 he had been forced to check his bed every night in case a poisonous Yavinian centipede had wandered in, but it had also offered places to turn to when he sought solitude–jungle trees that he could lean against instead of the frozen rock wall at his back now.

At best, Hoth could offer him a barely habitable tundra to wander onto that–conditions permitting–would host him for maybe thirty minutes before the threat of frostbite drove him back into the Rebellion’s cramped quarters. 

“Cassian?”

Even through the harsh whispers of the rising wind he recognized her voice–three, barely audible syllables and suddenly the icy air didn’t seem quite so cutting. 

Jyn marched towards him, head ducked low against the wind, arms crossed over her chest, hands clutching her elbows in a tight self-embrace. A gray hat covered her head and a scarf to match was wrapped around her neck, the end of it tucked into the parka she wore–standard-issue blue, and seemingly at least a size too large–the sleeves hanging well-past her hands. 

She stopped when she reached him and peered up at him, cheeks turned scarlet from the burning cold, loose strands of hair blowing across her face and over her brilliant green eyes. 

He’d come out here to be alone. To think. And yet, suddenly all the thoughts in his head seemed out of reach, as did any semblance of speech. 

“What are you doing out here?” she asked incredulously. 

Cassian cleared his throat and gestured upwards. “You just missed it.”

“Missed what? I didn’t know there were any new arrivals scheduled today…”

He shook his head. “No, not a ship. Sky.”

Jyn tilted her head back, eyeing the infinity above them skeptically. “Pretty sure it’s still there, Cass,” she commented. 

“Clear sky,” Cassian elaborated. “Blue sky. Remember that?”

“I’ve heard of it,” she laughed, and the sound was meant for his ears (as all sounds are), but somehow it wasn’t something he heard so much as felt–winding its way through him, leaving warmth and energy in its wake, before settling somewhere against his heart. 

“Cass? Hello?”

“Sorry.” Cassian blinked, snow from his eyelashes melting against his cheeks and blurring his vision. “What did you say?”

Jyn rolled her eyes. “I asked if it was worth it, but I think I have my answer. The cold’s clearly gone to your brain.” She turned her back to the wall and leaned against it beside him, looking at him expectantly. 

It wasn’t the cold making him so addle-minded, Cassian knew it wasn’t that. No, it was something far more daunting, far more potent, and definitely not as easily shaken.

Jyn looked away from him, out onto the increasingly hazy landscape. “Were you really just out here to look at the sky?” she asked quietly.

She knew the truth, or at least part of it. She always did. He didn’t know how, but she did, the same way he knew he didn’t have to answer her–that she didn’t expect him to. His silence would say enough.

“It’s suffocating in there,” she murmured. “Not enough light, not enough air.”

“Too many people,” he added quietly.

She nodded. “Too many,” she agreed. “But out here it’s…”

“Quiet. Gives you a chance to think.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Sometimes.”

She peered at him from beneath frost-covered lashes. Lips quirked in a pensive, knowing smile. “What about today?”

Today? Today his eyes had been drawn to Jyn the moment she entered the mess hall; had followed her every step with a sort of dizzying wonder that was at once exhilarating and terrifying. Today Chirrut, sitting beside him, had nudged him pointedly and asked, ‘What are you waiting for, Captain?’

But there wasn’t a single answer, there was an entire swarm of doubts that continued to plague him. 

It had been months since Scarif. Most of it he had spent recovering from his injuries. All of it, he had spent wondering why he could face death more easily than he could face life, face her and all she represented. Hope. Happiness. Home.  

He had come outside to think, hoping the bracing cold might clear his head and deliver an answer. He knew how he felt about her, knew what he wanted. What he was searching for was the courage to try–to choose a future that extended beyond the next mission; something permanent and lasting and full of possibilities. Something not for the Rebellion, but for himself. Something to be shared…

“Today, it was a good thing,” he said at last. It was a good thing because having Jyn in his thoughts, even if they were anxious ones, was still having Jyn there, with him–a sudden, strange, and unexpected source of strength and light. 

She pushed herself off the rock wall and stepped in front of him, so close he could see the individual hairs that were caught up in her eyelashes, fixed in place by her hat and the wind. “Tell me about them,” she said. “The good thoughts.”

Waking up in the infirmary to find her there, resting at his bedside, arms folded beneath her head… 

Hearing her laugh for the first time, a proper laugh as he and K2 bickered over something inane; he’d forgotten the fight the moment he heard the sound, caught himself automatically smiling in response… 

Her surprising patience during his recovery, tempering his own frustrations; the way she’d always been there to sit with him in silence after a particularly trying day… 

A quiet corner of the galaxy, somewhere verdant and warm and free of war; Jyn standing beside him,  always beside him…

Instead of answering, he found himself pinning the fingertips of one of his gloves between his back and the rock and tugging his hand free. His breath caught in his chest as he slowly reached towards her face, gently sweeping a finger over the surface of her forehead, sliding the hair away from her eyes. 

He should have dropped his hand after that, should have pulled away, but instead, his palm moved instinctively to cup her cheek, the softness of her skin serving in stark contrast to the bite of the air around it. 

Jyn stared at him, something unreadable in her eyes as she searched his face. “Your fingers are cold,” she said softly, even as she slowly removed her own gloves and reached for his hands, tugged his remaining glove away. “Let me warm them up…”

Time seemed to slow down as she folded her hands over his own, squeezing lightly, before bringing his fingers to her open mouth and breathing onto them, the warmth of her seeping into the chilled surface of his skin, setting fire to his stuttering heart. 

“Jyn…” he murmured, but anything he might have thought to say to her stuck in his throat, forgotten and useless. 

He leaned closer, till the breath that had been warming his hands was ghosting across his lips instead. And for a moment, that was all there was, just the sound and feel of their breathing: a whispered question so powerful, it blocked even the howl and bite of the rising storm. 

Their eyes locked and held, the beginning notes of a song hanging in the air between them…

Cassian answered the call, tilting forward to press an eager kiss to Jyn’s lips. 

A pleased hum buzzed against his mouth, matching the pull of her forming smile. She released his hands and leaned her weight against him as she rose to her toes, reaching to wind her fingers around his neck and into his hair.

He wrapped his arms around her, tightened the embrace, a wild melody tearing through him like thunder through spring air, full of promise. 

When they parted, they did so slowly, scattering short kisses across cheeks and noses, and unable to resist one last deep, lingering kiss, before finally leaning away, just enough to clearly see each other’s faces. 

The smug grin Jyn was giving him forced a soft laugh from Cassian. “What’s this look about?” he asked. 

“Took you long enough,” she said softly as she stepped backwards, dragging the start of a trail in the deepening snow. “Now come on, you’ve been out here long enough–and I’ve got some ideas on how we can get warm.”

The plummeting temperatures didn’t seem capable of reaching him–not with the shadow of their kiss persisting on his lips–but Cassian didn’t bother to resist. 

Jyn tugged gently on his arm, and he gladly followed

#rebelcaptain fluffbruary #rebelcaptain fanfic #rebelcaptain #jyn x cassian #b writes #is this fluff? maybe? idk? this is probably as close as i get anyways #the rebelcaptain network

[peterman-spideyparker]

Mr. Russo (Bonus Bit!) (Billy Russo x Reader)

Author’s Note: Heyo! So the first part of this fic got mad love!!! Thank you to everyone who has read! Since you guys enjoyed it so much, I've decided to post the thousand-ish words I cut from the original to serve as a little bonus. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Having given into your feelings for Billy, you two have fallen into a very comfortable relationship that you have decided to keep on the down-low.

Warnings: Fluff, soft!Billy having heart eyes, smut (P in V, crazy office sex, dirty talk, Billy being a dom?--am I using that right?), cursing

Other Characters: Frank Castle

Word Count: 1,022

“Paul Meadows sent over the contract all signed,” you say as you open the file folder, getting the paper to where he needs to sign.

“Took him long enough,” Billy sighs, scribbling his signature on the line.

“Well, it might have helped that I sent an email gently reminding him that Anvil reserves the right to end a business relationship with a party if we do not here back within a timely fashion—even if they’ve put down a significant deposit. Oh, and they we can charge extra for their negligence of a proposed agreement due to the sensitive nature of the cases and other organizations that seek us out.”

Billy looks up at you astonished.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve had to send an email like that, and you know it,” you chuckle.

“I know, but I love how ruthless you can be sometimes.”

“Just the life of a kick-ass secretary,” you sigh with a smile as you collect the folder to put with the active files.

“Want to grab some dinner tonight?” he asks as you finger through the file cabinet. “Italian, maybe? We could do Fratello’s.”

“Mm, that sounds delicious.” You close the file cabinet and lean against the cool metal. “But you see, I have plans.”

“Plans?” he repeats.

“Not fancy plans, but plans that are gonna keep me here for a while.”

“Tell me what they are so I can talk some sense into your boss. I know he can be a hard-ass, but a proper one-on-one will let me tell him that your man needs you tonight.” There’s humor and teasing in his voice, but a sensual darkness grows in his onyx eyes, making you blush.

“It’s Boss’s Day today,” you elaborate, knowing that any sort of lying and deflection won’t be any use to you this time. “I was gonna stay late tonight to get even more done so you don’t have to worry about them during the day.”

“Is that why my coffee was waiting on my desk this morning with my favorite kind of bagel, and like, half the work there should be?”

“There’s a chance,” you hum with a soft smile and slight tilt of your head.

“Tell you what,” he says as he gets up, leaving little space between your bodies. “You give me some files back, I’ll make us a reservation for around 8, and I stay late to help you. What kind of boss would I be if I let the best secretary do more work that she should? You should know I’m a giver.”

“Just trying to give a little back, that’s all.”

“You already do plenty of that,” he says, taking your hand in his and gently rubbing the back with his thumb. “Can we call it a date?”

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile. “It’s a date.”

Billy moves in to kiss you, but you duck your head to the side just as he stops himself.

“Later,” you whisper.

“Later,” he agrees.

You moan a deep, primal sound as Billy kisses your neck, deeply rocking into you in the empty office. You don’t have much you can grasp onto, but Billy makes sure that you are secure between him and the wall. This is the third location in his office that you’ve worked on—from his chair, then his desk, and now finally the wall, the bricks lightly scratching your bare back.

“I like stayin’ late,” he grunts, placing a hungry kiss on your lips, one hand carefully moving up your side to your breast while the other holds onto your waist with a bruising grip.

You laugh as you run your fingers through your hair. “This is more fun than what I usually do,” you sigh, nipping at his earlobe.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he breathes, putting a finger between your bodies and quickly rubbing you, making you see stars as your brain and any coherent train of though begins to quickly melt into nothingness.

“Billy . . .”

“Fuck, babygirl,” he moans as you squeeze him for everything he’s worth. “You feel so good around me like that. Your pussy’s so sensitive, huh? So sensitive from havin’ me fuck you all over my office and makin’ you cum so hard, huh? Isn’t that right, baby? You cum so good for me. Fuck.”

You have no idea how Billy is forming coherent sentences right now. Billy’s thrusts become more erratic and you scrunch his crisp white shirt that hangs wide open as he finally gets closer to his end after holding back for so long. As he works to fuck the hot ropes of his cum deep inside of you, someone kicks his door open.

“Freeze! Hands where I can see them!” a gruff voice calls, shining a light in your faces. You both halt your movements to look over, and the man puts the flashlight and gun down, looking away from your compromising position.

“Bill?” the voice asks. It’s Frank.

“Hey, man,” he responds, clearing his throat. Billy doesn’t embarrass easily, but you can tell in the dimly lit office that a little flush of embarrassment graces his cheeks.

“Hi, Frank,” you add.

“(Y/N),” he acknowledges.

“What are you doing here?” Billy asks.

“You must have accidentally called me,” he says, still not looking at you as the two of you adjust yourselves into a more presentable manner. “I picked up my phone and it sounded like you were in trouble. Now it’s clear that it very much wasn’t the case.”

“Sorry to make you rush down here like that,” Billy says.

“Don’t worry about it, brother,” he says, holstering his weapon. “So, uh, how long has this been a thing?”

“A while,” Billy says, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Well, mazel tov,” Frank says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll see you both later.”

Billy and you laugh after Frank leaves the office, and Billy holds your head in his hands, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I guess that’s our cue to go to dinner,” he smiles.

“I guess so,” you say, pecking his lips.

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[gffa]

Hi! While you'll get some conflicting stuff in Legends (I think I remember a brief mention of it in The Approaching Storm which made me roll my eyes because it was Luminara thinking it and Luminara was wearing her own outfit with her own accessories already, in contrast you also have things like Obi-Wan’s river rock from Jedi Apprentice, which is a possession, so it was entirely dependent on which author you were reading) so it’s not totally coming out of nowhere, but it’s one of those things where it’s a random author from deep supplementary material because they just assume the Jedi can’t have possessions, but higher canon contradicts it. We see a handful of rooms in the Jedi Temple and they do tend to skew towards simple in decor (but you also have to consider that animation is HELLA expensive for something that’s only going to be used once, that’s why characters stay in the same clothes in animation so much of the time, because it costs a lot of money to design an outfit that can move around the way they need) but we can see Jedi possessions are not forbidden: - Anakin’s room is chock full of stuff:

Barriss has her prayer statue that’s unique to her:

Depa went all out in her room:

Yoda has candles in his room as well:

There’s a few quotes from Disney canon that says even Initiates have possessions:      “But this morning, [Qui-Gon had] had to pack his few possessions in a small bundle and leave the crèche where he’d lived as long as he could remember.“ [Master and Apprentice]     “So instead Obi-Wan trudged to his room. It was small and austere, but a shelf above his bed held a few treasures he had gathered. A rock from Ilum. A flower Siri had once tucked behind his ear as a joke. A shell Prie had given him that was probably from an unspeakably terrifying creature she adored. The spoon from their initiate days that Bolla had for some reason decided was his favorite, so they all made a game of stealing it. Obi-Wan had won, he supposed, since they were no longer younglings.”  [Padawan]     “Qui-Gon sat on the simple gray cushion he kept in place of more elaborate seating. He had never added furniture for hosting guests. Obi-Wan always felt like he was somehow intruding, like there really was no place for him in Qui-Gon’s life. He knew Siri’s master had a table for two in her living quarters where they took most meals together, and Prie’s had insisted on a Padawan room right next to his own so they could have easier access to each other when studying together.” [Padawan] (I don’t have the direct quote on hand, but in The Clone Wars: Stories of Light and Dark, Katooni also has a poster of Ahsoka on her wall that she hung up.) Overall, I look at it this way, there are three things that are going into what we see with the Jedi: - Every single frame of animation costs money to make and TCW was not rich at the time it was made, so rooms are designed simply because it was cheaper - The Jedi have a touch of ascetism going on because they’re not super big into worldly possessions and they’re Buddhist monks - I think it works really well as a theme--most Jedi just don’t need stuff, they’re content as they are.  If they want some stuff, they’re perfectly fine to have it, not once does anyone give Anakin a bad time about all the stuff in his room, he openly displays it, it’s fine.  But as a theme, Anakin’s a character who clings onto things, who has trouble letting go, who wants to be surrounded by tangible things, rather than living in harmony with the transient nature of life. Jedi seem to naturally lean towards not having a lot of possessions, they just don’t seem to need them, but they are emphatically NOT forbidden from having them!  There’s nothing in canon that I’ve ever come across that says they’re frowned upon, either. It goes hand in hand with how Jedi are often seen wearing outfits from their birth cultures, like Shaak and Ahsoka with their headddresses, Luminara and Barriss with their head coverings and tattooss, things that are just theirs. So, you’ll see it come up in fic a lot and it’s not like it came out of nowhere, but primary canon does say, yeah, Jedi can have possessions, but they don’t really seem to want or need to have very many of them.

#jedi order #jedi temple #meta

[zoeykallus]

Just wanted to start off by saying how much I love your writing! It made waiting for season 2 a lot more bearable 🥰

I imagine before a relationship with the reader the batchers would fantasize a bit. What would there go to fantasy be?

If you do this one thanks! If not no problem I imagine you've got a lot on your plate 😊

Aloha!

Thank you! Always happy to read that 🤗 Oh indeed, I think that's one of the most intriguing things before a relationship, the fantasies!

You didn't say if you wanted the romancy, fluffy fantasies or the spicy ones, so I thought I'd do both, hope that's okay 😁

The Bad Batch x Reader HCs - More Than A Fantasy

Warnings: Sexual Content/Suggestive/18+/Fluff

____________________

Hunter

Fluff

He likes to be your hero. In his imagination he is your protector, your savior whom you adore with a love-struck gaze.

Hunter imagines him rescuing you from all sorts of situations, and you dreamily snuggle up to him, grateful and smitten. He is the rock in the storm, always there when you need him.

One of his most elaborate fantasies is that he lands with you on a wild planet, where he protects you and impresses you with his survival skills. In this fantasy you are quite dependent on him to survive, he is your hero, and he loves this fantasy that he frequently visits in his daydreams.

Spice

His imagination is quite wild, he is in control, his hand in your hair, his lips demanding on yours. His body pressed against yours, naked skin on naked skin.

Hunter likes to indulge in fantasies where he is dominant, and you are submissive in moments of self-care. Not because he necessarily really wants to dominate you (although if you like that he'll be glad to tend to this need of yours with pleasure), he respects you no matter what fantasies he has. He would never impose himself on you, before that he would chop off his hands.

Prone bone, with you lying on your stomach, on your knees, or you wedged between his body and the wall, these are his favorite fantasies that heat him up incredibly.

Echo

Fluff

He dreams of cooking for you, pampering you and impressing you with his cooking skills as well as with his empathetic, caring nature. Echo is a born provider, or he would like to be, so this is what he imagines.

His favorite fantasy is feeling your unconditional trust, smiling lovingly at him when he brings you flowers and cooking and fooling around in the kitchen together with him.

Romantic picnics, cuddly movie nights in which you snuggle up to him in love and feeling safe are his comfort, amorous dreams he indulges in. He would like nothing better than to be the man with whom you feel absolutely safe and loved, without whom you no longer want to be.

Spice

As tame and shy as Echo may seem in love matters at first, he has quite a vivid and daring imagination.

When he masturbates, he likes to imagine himself sitting on the edge of a bed, and you're kneeling between his thighs. You look up at him adoringly as you work him with your hand and mouth, closing your lips around his hard length, letting your tongue dance over his tip to tease him.

He caresses your face and praises you, spurs you on. The icing on the cake of his fantasy: you make him come on your face while you look up at him in admiration, tongue outstretched, as if you can't get enough of him.

Wrecker

Fluff

It's all about fun! Wrecker wants to make you laugh, impress you, be the guy you can have fun with anytime. In his imaginations, he takes you to amusement parks, and fairs. He protects you on the scary attractions, where you cling to his strong arm for shelter. He holds you tenderly in his arms on the romantic rides and impresses you at the shooting range and of course the hammer, no one is stronger than Wrecker.

His fluffy imaginations always revolve around having fun with you, seeing you laugh and smile, and earning your admiration. Wrecker can hardly imagine anything better than being responsible for your happiness and well-being.

In his imagination, he turns your saddest and most devastating moments into your most beautiful ones.

Spice

The honey pot you're hiding in your panties has an uncanny appeal to Wrecker. One of his favorite performances is to taste it and put you in absolute ecstasy. In his imagination, he buries his face between your thighs and tastes said honey pot.

In Wrecker's imagination you are loud, moaning, whimpering, sighing, in absolute arousal. He elicits sounds from you that you don't even know are inside you. He imagines your thighs quivering around his head, your fingers clawing into the sheet, and you're writhing with pleasure and ecstasy.

Just the thought of ever being able to get close to such a situation makes him hard.

Tech

Fluff

He is your problem solver. Tech likes to imagine that he can answer all your questions and how you listen to him attentively. In his imagination he explains the universe to you, and you hang enthusiastically on his lips.

He fixes things for you, solves your problems, answers your questions and is your very own hero of life. He imagines that you fully rely on him and admire him for all the things he knows and can do. You are always an enthusiastic listener.

All the things that make him special, that he knows and can do, are for your benefit, and you adore him for it. You learn from him, and he enthusiastically follows your successes brought about by him.

Spice

He may appear shy and reserved, but his imagination is very vivid and creative. In the moments when he gives free rein to his imagination, he is very experimental.

Toys play a big role, some of them self-invented. The exploration of your body is an adventure that he always wants to experience anew in his imagination.

Tech imagines to bring you to dizzy heights of arousal, with his toys and his body. Not infrequently, his imagination deals with your behind. Especially on days when you wear tight clothes, he imagines the wildest things in the evening. He wants to caress you, penetrate you and bring you to absolute ecstasy.

One of his favorite go to fantasies is to insert a plug into your backdoor, rub your clit and penetrate your pussy with his hard length. However, it takes quite a long time for him to reveal this fantasy to you at some point when you become a couple.

Crosshair

Fluff

His main fantasy deals with the perfect appearance. The perfect entrance. Crosshair walks into a room, loose, casual, a toothpick between his lips while your eyes are fixed on him in admiration.

Another fantasy is about you admiring him on the shooting range. In absolute amazement and admiration, you see him hitting every target, every trick shot. He gives you a little smirk that makes you putty in his hands.

This look, this admiration, this is what he wants from you. Crosshair wants to be your hero, the person you trust absolutely, the person you adore. In his mind, you do just that.

Spice

He has a weakness for clothing on you that exposes a lot, but not everything. He loves the charm of suggestion without revealing everything.

His fingers slip under the fabric and elicit sighs and moans from you. You loll under his touch, you obey him. You are submissive, but also naughty and demanding. He shows you the highest heights of intimacy, and you give yourself to him enthusiastically.

Whether he pushes you into the pillows, the sheets or against a wall, you stretch towards him willingly and greedily take him up inside you. Drooling and moaning, you let him take you, moaning his name in dizzy arousal.

For Crosshair, there is no hotter imagination than your aroused surrender when he is allowed to dominate you.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

#star wars headcanons #hunter #wrecker #echo #crosshair #tech #tbb #crosshair tbb #echo tbb #hunter tbb #star wars tbb #sw tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #tbb wrecker #tbb x reader #wrecker tbb #bad batch #the bad batch #clone force 99 #tech tbb #star wars #hunter x reader #smut #suggestive

[infinit-world]

Golden Wings Part II

Pairing: Wednesday Addams X Reader

Word count: 2.99k

Summary: You're a new student at Nevermore. What happens when you get involved with Wednesday's stalker mistery?

Warnings: Small description of murder, blood.

At first this was going to be the ending but I swear this fic is just getting longer and longer. I promise next part will be the last. Like always, if you see a mistake, please let me know.

Wednesday grumbles while walking back to school. When she arrived at the spot her stalker told her to go, she found a piece of paper on top of a rock. Gotcha was the only thing written in the note. She was fuming. Right before entering the school, her phone rings. It’s a new photo of her with rage painted on her face while walking back, with a message below.

You really thought I was that stupid? Thanks for the fun.

“I’m going to kill them the moment I discover who they are.” Thing signs in agreement, before scurrying to her backpack, not wanting to receive her anger.

Walking through the halls in silence, you try to stay in the darkness, not wanting anyone to see you. You look at your watch again 23:57 Perfect. You open the door carefully, sticking your head inside to make sure it’s empty, before entering. You go directly to the darker side, starting to rummage through the drawers and the closet. When you don’t find it, you start looking under the bed. You’re still looking when you receive a message.

Unknown 00:14

She’s going back to her room

You curse under your breath before getting out of the room. Right as you're arriving at your dorm, you see a shadow coming towards you. You stick to the wall as much as you can, trying to not make any noise. When the figure gets closer, you can see is Wednesday. Fuck, that was close. Once you’re sure she won’t hear you, you return to your room, sitting at your desk and opening your literature book, pretending you’ve been studying the whole time.

After a few minutes, your room door opens. You spin in your chair, seeing Wednesday standing there. “Wednesday! You’re ok?” You ask her while dragging her inside. “Someone has broken into my room.” “What? Is Enid ok?” “Yeah, she’s spending the night at Yoko’s.” “You’re ok? What happened? What did you find?” “It was a waste of time. They only left this stupid note.” She slaps the note into your desk in anger. “They’re mocking me. I’m sure whoever entered my room works with the stalker. That’s why they wanted me out.” 

You curse on your head. You didn’t want Wednesday to realise that. You were planning on leaving everything back in its place, but with the rush, you didn’t have time. “You’re sure it wasn’t the stalker?” “Yes, they send me a photo of me walking back to school. They didn’t have the time to enter before I arrived.” Fuck, that wasn’t in the plan. “What they would want from your room?” “I have an idea.” She doesn’t elaborate more, and you don’t press, not wanting her to start being suspicious of you.

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

You’re pacing in the cemetery, your wings enveloping your form to try and keep you warm. It’s the crack of dawn and even though is not winter yet, the days are starting to be really cold. You’re just going to give up and start to go back to school when a boy comes running to you. “Sorry! I have fallen asleep.” You huff in annoyance. “Liam! I’m going to kill you! You had to rile her up didn’t you?” “Woah, relax, it’s not that bad” He takes a step back when he sees your eyes glowing green, something that happens when you let your powers run through you. You’re seriously thinking about killing him now. “You fucked up big time! She’s in alert mode now! If we’re not careful, she will find the truth. And we can’t let that happen, not now at least.”

He has the decency to look a little bit guilty. Your plan was foolproof, at least it was until Liam decide to get on Wednesday’s nerves and make her more focused on finding the truth than what you wanted. “Tell everyone the plans have changed. It’s not in her room anyway.” “So… What do we do now?” You look at Liam in silence, trying to think of a better plan. You sight before slumping your shoulders. “I don’t know, I need time to think. For now, stay undercover. I will tell you when I figure out something.” He nods before walking away. 

You sit on the ground, your back against a statue. You feel lost, not knowing what to do was driving you crazy. You can’t continue with the stalker idea, you and Wednesday had spent the whole night trying to find something, and you know she won’t give up now. Where can it be?

FLASHBACK

You settle into your bed, excited for your bedtime story. “What story wants my little warrior tonight?” Your mother asks while tickling you. You giggle, trying to get away from her before answering. “Our story!” Your mom huffs. You always ask for this story. You don’t know why, it’s not happy, but you love it. 

“Long time ago, the first Fae was born from the roots of the Tree of Life. Lilith, as she was named, grew in harmony with nature. She was good and caring, helping those who needed it. Some of the people she helped decided to stay with her and form a little community, and for years, they lived happily. 

One day, a group of men that lived in a near village arrived. They had heard stories about the sanctuary and the Fae that lived there and wanted to see it with their own eyes. Lilith welcomed them with a smile, but that was a mistake. The men grew jealous of her power, they thought only their God could be so powerful. So, they went back to their village and told everyone a twisted story that portrayed her as a demon so people would fear her. 

They invited everyone that lived in the sanctuary to eat in their village, with the excuse of getting to know each other better, so they could kill them. When they arrived, the villagers led them to a fairly large wooden building, telling them that there was where the dinner was held. Once all of them were inside, the doors locked and smoke started to fill the building. In mere minutes, everyone except Lilith died. Full of rage, she unleashed all her power, killing her murderers, and ran as far as she could.

She tried to start a new life in a witch community. There, she fell in love and had a precious child, a Fae just like her. But her heart was full of fear. She wanted to protect her new family, afraid that they would be killed too. With the help of a very powerful witch, she created a book that contained every spell and magic she knew, so future generations would be able to protect themselves if they needed to.

But that knowledge came with a price. To create the book, she needed to use a lot of energy. Lilith gave everything to her to create it, ending her life.”

END FLASHBACK

You stay in the cemetery for hours. You don’t want to go back and have to pretend with Wednesday. For a moment, you wish you never started this. But it’s the right thing to do, you know it. You need the book, a lot of people depend on it.

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

It’s been two weeks since the cemetery day, and you can tell everyone is growing anxious. You haven't spent a lot of time with Wednesday, she’s been pushing everyone away, too focused on discovering the stalker’s identity. You tell yourself the feeling that creeps into your chest every time you think of Wednesday is because you’re afraid of what she can discover without you knowing, and definitely not because you miss her.

You’re walking to your dorm when you see Avalie approaching you. “We need to talk.” You look around, making sure no one is looking at you, before grabbing her arm and yanking her to a more secluded area. “What do you think you're doing? Someone could see us.” You hiss. “It’s been too long, The Elders are losing their patience. We need to do something.” “I know! Fuck, I know okay. But thanks to Liam, Wednesday has been obsessed with the stalker. I haven’t talked with her that much. So until I discover where the book is, we can’t really do anything.” “Then make sure you know it soon.” She tells you before walking away. You run your hand through your hair, trying to calm down.

Wednesday looks at you with a curious gaze. During these weeks, she’s noticed that she’s been followed by animals; a bird when she’s in the quad, a squirrel in the forest… She knew it was you, you’re the only one in Nevermore with the ability to talk with animals. She was planning on confronting you about it when she saw you talking with Avalie. Why were you talking with that vampire? What did she tell you to make you so angry? Her mind starts reeling, trying to find the answers.

That evening, Wednesday calls you to her room. She’s been thinking about the talk the whole afternoon. Her mind won’t stop telling her that you’ve been playing with her, working with the stalker while feigning ignorance in her company. For the first time, she hopes she’s wrong.

You knock on her door, trying not to smile. When you received the message earlier this afternoon, you couldn’t stop the happiness that spread through your body. You missed spending time with Wednesday. After hearing a muffled come in, you open the door, seeing Wednesday writing. “Just a minute, I’m finishing my writing hour.” You nod, even though Wednesday hasn’t looked up from her typewriter, before walking to Enid’s bed, sitting there.

Once she finishes, she spins her chair, facing you. “I asked you to come here because I wanted to apologize. I’ve been too focused with my stalker and I been pushing you away.” You look at her with surprise. You never thought she would apologize to you. “It’s ok Wednesday, I know you. I’m not mad, but I appreciate it.” You give her a smile to try and reassure her that everything is fine. “Good. We should go to dinner then.” You hum in agreement. You two get up, but you stop when Wednesday doesn’t follow you to the door. “You’re coming?” She gets closer to you before answering. “Yes, I just need a minute to tidy my desk. Wait for me at the table.” You nod before you exit the room.

What you fail to notice is Wednesday’s fingertips grazing your jacket right as you walk out. She still doesn’t have any control over her visions, but she hopes she will see something if she touches you. She gasps as her head jerks back, a vision starting to form in her mind.

A younger version of you appears in front of her, you’re about seven years old, Wednesday notices. Your wings’ colours are very light, almost as if they were gold and your horns still haven’t grown yet, but it’s definitely you. You’re watching a movie in a living room. Her family home. Wednesday looks around, trying to figure out why she’s seeing this. A weird feeling latches in her chest. Something is wrong. Before she can dwell on it, she hears a loud crashing noise coming from outside. A woman enters the room running, approaching you with terrified eyes. “Go to the kitchen and hide in the pantry, behind the boxes on the floor. Don’t make a sound until we tell you.” She kisses your forehead before gently hurrying you out. 

Wednesday wants to stay in the room, try to figure out what is going on, but a force pushes her in your direction, her vision going blurry for a moment. When everything goes clear again, she’s behind the boxes with you. She can hear the commotion outside of the house, men yelling Demon! and Kill him! A gunshot is heard followed by a cry of pain. There’s a small gap between the boxes, Wednesday can see part of the white floor in front of the pantry, and she knows you can see it too. Suddenly the door of the kitchen opens and she can hear footsteps getting closer. There, get her! A couple of men pass in front of her, before another gunshot is heard. Blood seeps through the ground, tinting the floor red.

The men roam through the house, trying to see if there’s anyone else. You’re trembling, crying silently while your wings envelop your form, trying to give you a little comfort. Wednesday’s so focused on you that she doesn’t realise the noise has stopped until a figure appears in front of her. “It’s ok, you can come now little one. They’re gone.” She can see the figure has a pair of dark wings. Another Fae. You seem to realise the same, because you immediately get up, watching the Fae in front of you closely.

The vision changes after that. She’s in a forest, tree houses surrounding her and Faes flying above the trees. Wednesday feels like home for a second, even though she knows she’s never been here. Suddenly her mind understands what’s wrong. The electrifying feeling she gets every time she’s in a vision is not there. These visions are not like what she’s used to. She usually feels like she’s physically in the moment. But now, she feels like a simple observer. It almost feels like a memory. Your memories.

She walks towards one of the houses unconsciously. Inside she can see another version of you. You’re older here, probably around ten. The man from the last vision is with you. “Why do I have to train today too? It’s Sunday Aarzham! Can we do something fun?” “You need to train Y/N. One day, you will be a warrior as good as me. But just if you train.” You drop your shoulders in defeat but you give him a small smile. “I thought I was already a good warrior.” He chuckles before looking at you seriously. “You’re powerful, more than anyone here. You will be able to save us from those that want us dead. But until then, you will train every day.” You nod, already getting up to go outside.

The scene changes again. You’re still the same age, but you’re seated on the ground, a notebook on your lap. Aarzham is beside you on a chair. “Aar, why you decided to adopt me that day?” He has a stoic expression, but Wednesday can see softness in his eyes. “You saw something that no kid should, but you still got up. You didn’t let it crumble you, you took that experience and used it to make you stronger.” “You really think I can help us to be safer?” “One day, you will be the most powerful Fae, and you and I will change our history for the better.”

The world spins, making Wednesday a bit dizzy before it calms down. You’re inside the house with Aarzham again. He’s cleaning a wound on your cheek. This time, you look very similar to how you look now. She’s probably just a year or two younger here. “What is The Book of Shadows?” You ask with a soft voice, almost afraid he will get angry. “How do you know that name?” “I heard you talking with The Elders.” He sighs, throwing the bloodied gauze into the trash. “You know Lilith’s story?” “Of course, it was my favourite story when I was a kid.” “The Book of Shadows is her creation.” You give him a surprised look. “I thought it was just a myth.” “It’s real, and now, I know where it is.” You give him a curious look.” “The book was in an amusement park in Jericho but was stolen a couple of months ago. I believe it is somewhere around Nevermore.”

The vision changes one last time. You’re in the forest that surrounds Nevermore. A group of werewolves and vampires listen to you while you give them instructions. “Cyra sent Wednesday a text on the last day of school. She’s probably going to focus on her stalker this year, which will allow me to get closer to her and find the book. Liam, Cyra, Nihan and Avalie will rotate to send Wednesday the messages. This way, it’s more difficult for her to find the truth. The rest, keep an eye open, if you see something suspicious, tell me.”

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

You’re worried about Wednesday. Last night, while you were waiting at the table in the dining hall for her, she sent a message to Enid, telling her something happened and she needed to go back to their dorm immediately. You haven’t seen either of them since then. You pace through your room, trying to decide if you should go to their dorm and see if they’re ok. After what feels like hours, you decide to go.

You knock on their door, not expecting to see an angry Enid growling at you. “Whoa Nid, calm down, it’s just me!” “Exactly” The words are more of a deep growl than anything. You look at her confused, not understanding anything.  “Enid, what’s going on?” “You don’t need to pretend you’re our friend anymore, Wednesday knows you just got close to us so you could get Goody’s book.” You get pale when you hear her. No,no,no please. You open and close your mouth like a fish out of the water, trying to say something, anything, to explain yourself, to tell her that even though that was your reason at first, you truly appreciate them now.But the words are stuck in your throat and Enid loses her patience. “I can’t believe you used her as Tyler did. I thought you were different.” She gives you a hurt look before closing the door. You stay frozen in place for a couple of minutes, your eyes burning with unshed tears.

Taglist: @lukam8 @alexkolax @itsafigureofspeechadam @fashromanmaximoff

#wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednsday addams

[rosys-fans-fics]

just thinking about gortash and his bf/pet dragonborn durge. gort thinks of durge as a stray that slinks in whenever he likes, though the disgusting sewage pipes or through his window at the top of wyrms rock, with mysterious dagger sized holes thoughout the fortresses' walls. while he doesnt appreciate the body parts lovingly strewn around his office of various nobles(that hes probably slept with), he warms up to the scaled tail curling around his shoulders. with enough praising words against their face and his gauntlet trailing against them, gortash is able to once in a while specify their next target

Durge is definitely the local street cat who's claimed Gortash's house as theirs! I have a little fic that's been sitting in my drafts for too long so this is the perfect opportunity to post it!

tw for dead body and bone breaking.

Gortash left the mansion of one of his many lovers in the upper city to begin his long walk back home in the lower city. The lady had given him one of her family rings, a beautiful gold band decorated with a rainbow of precious gems. The ring was worth more than her entire mansion but Gortash was great at getting what he wanted from his lovers.

As he approached his house, he noticed the window to his room was ajar. A clear sign that his little assassin was here and wanted him to know it. He sighed as he walked up to his room, prepared for whatever horrors his little Bhaalspawn had to discuss. Gortash pushed his door open only for it to be stopped by a large object. He looked down and saw through the slit of the door that a body was laying on his floor. Gortash groaned at the thought of scrubbing blood from the wood. He pushed against the door harder, moving the body back just enough for him to slip inside.

The Dragonborn sat atop his desk, their knife delicately removing any remaining flesh from a large bone. Their head was lowered, too engrossed in their ghoulish work to notice him or, more likely, feigning ignorance of his presence. Gortash cleared his throat, and their head darted up to look at him. Their eyes were filled with pure contempt as they glared at him.

“What do I owe the pleasure and the present,” Gortash nudged the dead body with his foot, “to, my dear assassin?” Gortash looked down at the body to see who they'd dragged into his room. It took a moment to recognize the woman through all the blood and guts spilled, but he realized it was the noblewoman he had just spent the evening with. Gortash looked back at his little assassin and quirked a brow, “bit of a waste of an ally.”

That seemed to get to them. They gripped the bone tightly in both hands, breaking it with the ease a child breaks a stick.

"Ally? Is that what she is? What does her alliance bring you, Banite?" the bone fell from their claws, striking the floor with a deafening thud. The Dragonborn stood to their full height. Their delicately arched horns just scrapped the ceiling. Despite their impressive size, each footstep was silent. They towered over Gortash, their piercing eyes staring into his soul, laying him bare and devouring everything he could offer them.

"Her family has deep pockets. I make more spending a night in her bed than I do smuggling weapons," Gortash raised his hand with the elaborate gold ring, "it was an easy arrangement. Hard to find someone so willing to drop family heirlooms."

"I want to amend our alliance." the Dragonborn said.

Gortash quirked a brow, "What do you have in mind?"

The dragonborn pressed the tip of a claw into Gortash's chest. He wondered if they could feel his racing heartbeat. "Your alliances with nobles are for political gain alone," they turned the claw around to point at themselves, "Our alliance will now include funding. Understood?"

Gortash chuckled, "Is my dear Bhaalspawn jealous of my bed warmers?"

The jab did nothing to their stony exterior, not even a flicker of their intense eyes. The Bhaalspawn reached behind them into their pouch and pulled out a handful of jewels. Gortash recognized them immediately, he had just earlier that night persuaded his companion to part with one of her many accessories. The dragonborn held centuries of conquest, politics, and success in their claws.

Enver reached out to touch one of the pieces only for the Bhaalspawn to grip his wrist with their spare hand. "Do you swear to our new alliance Enver Gortash, Chosen of Bane?"

Gods, they were magnificent, "I do, I swear to you, Chosen and Child of Bhaal" They placed the priceless treasure into Enver's hand. Their touch lingered as they guided his hands to tightly hold the jewels.

The Dragonborn quickly stepped away from Gortash, causing the floor to squeak. They grabbed the mangled corpse that was at their feet and threw it over their shoulder. Without another word or glance in his direction, they left.

Enver placed the jewels on his desk and laid down in his bed. His heart raced but he wouldn't say if it was from seeing the corpse, the incalculable amount of wealth, or the Dragonborn offering so much for so little.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gortash #enver gortash #durgetash #gortash x durge #bg3 durge #bg3 the dark urge #tw blood #tw corpse

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Common Grounds / Chapter 8

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!Reader

Rating: E (explicit smut, 18+ only)

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: PIV sex, morning sex (kinda), food mention, soft!Marcus, and... What's this? A sprinkling of PLOT?

Summary: The morning after.

A/N: If you saw this go up earlier, NO YOU DIDN'T. My brain is mush and it was half-finished with an entire scene missing in the middle. Please read THIS VERSION if you managed to catch the earlier posting.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

When you wake up, you don’t understand why your neck aches so much. It takes you a few moments to realize that you feel asleep at such an awkward angle because your head is squished into Marcus’s shoulder, rather than resting on your own pillow.

Marcus.

You suck in a breath as awareness rushes back to you. Marcus Pike is in your bed.

The man in question stirs when he feels you move, a soft, low noise in his throat as he shifts onto his side and gently pulls you close. His lips brush your forehead, and you let out a content sigh.

“What time is it?” Marcus murmurs.

“Dunno,” you mumble. “Still dark.”

You shift against him, and you feel his cock, already hard, against your body.

“Sorry,” Marcus rumbles with a smile in his voice. “Hazard of waking up.”

“Mmmm,” you hum and shift again, more purposefully this time. “I like it.”

Marcus chuckles deep in his throat, and guides you to turn onto your other side so that he’s spooning you. He kisses your neck as he pulls you flush against him, one of his large hands splaying against your rib cage just underneath your breasts. 

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes?” Marcus repeats.

“Yes–again,” you entreat. “Please.”

“Good,” Marcus chuckles, “I was hoping for an opportunity to be less rough.”

He spits on his hand and gently runs his fingers up and down your folds, making you inhale shakily.

“I liked it,” you whisper.

“I did too,” Marcus says lowly. “But as it turns out–” he breaks off with a little exhale as he notches himself at your entrance, “–there are a thousand ways I want to give you this cock, and I’m not gonna be satisfied until I’ve done them all.”  

He pushes in slowly, letting you feel every inch of him sliding against your walls. 

“F-Feel free to elaborate,” you quip, unable to keep the waver out of your voice as Marcus seats himself deeply, so deeply within you. 

Marcus chuckles again, rocking his hips, moving in sync with you, a slow and sensual dance that has you panting immediately. 

“So many ways,” Marcus repeats, his voice low and dark. “Wanna give it to you hard and fast until you can't speak, and I want to go so slow that you beg me for more,” he whispers in your ear, causing sparks to shoot up and down your spine. “I want to put you on your knees and watch your ass bounce as you take me, wanna fuck you against the wall in the shower…"

"Marcus," you whimper.

"Shhh, I'm not done," he teases. "I want you to straddle me on the couch, watch your perfect tits bounce in my face as you ride me. Wanna–fuck," he gasps as your pussy clenches involuntarily around him. "Wanna hold you in my lap while you keep my cock warm, and I want to fill you up and watch it drip out–"

"I want that too," you gasp. "All of it, but–ah!–I want you to come in me," you tell him. "I'm on birth control, I–I want to feel you."

"Oh yeah," Marcus groans. "I will, but you first, okay honey? You gotta come for me first."

“I–more, I-I need–” you babble, and with a little growl that goes straight to your pussy, Marcus shifts his weight, pressing you down, down, down, until you’re lying on your stomach with Marcus on top. 

You keen into the pillow at the change in angles. Marcus is pushing down, hitting something that immediately makes everything tighten around his cock. He works his hand underneath you and presses his fingers against your clit.

“You need it harder?” he rasps in your ear.

“Yeah,” you manage to gasp out. “H-Hard–”

Marcus’s other hand grips underneath your shoulder for leverage as he gives you exactly what you asked for. You sob and hang on, your fingers digging into his forearm as you clamp down around him over and over. 

“Never gonna get tired of that,” Marcus laughs breathlessly while you twitch with aftershocks. “You feel so good around me.”

“Then show me,” you tease him. “Fill me up.”

“Fuck,” Marcus groans loudly. “Shit, that will end it fast.”

“Fuck me full,” you simper with a devious smile. “Deep. Make me yours.”

Marcus makes a strangled, garbled noise–it isn’t really a word, nor is it a moan–and shoves himself flush against you, as deep as he can get as he finishes. 

“Shit–naughty, perfect girl,” Marcus is chuckling as he peppers kisses across your shoulder blade. “You did that on purpose.”

You laugh joyfully, loving Marcus’s playfulness in the bedroom. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

He nips the skin at the nape of your neck in retribution. “I hadn’t intended it to be over so soon.”

He pulls out and rolls back onto his side, not allowing you to slip from his arms, and settles back on the bed with a sigh.

“I thought you said you were going to be less rough,” you tease, your eyes already beginning to slip closed again.

“Wasn’t I?” Marcus pouts playfully. “At least until the end, there.”

“Mmhmm,” you agree tiredly. Caged in his arms, you fall asleep quickly.

When you wake up again to the sun streaming into your bedroom window, Marcus is gone.

—------------------------------------------

In the millisecond that it takes you to begin to panic, you hear the soft clatter of a pan in your kitchen. Slowly, you let out a breath. Looking around the room, you realize his pants are still on the floor, anyway. 

You shake your head, laughing at yourself and dispelling the split-second of terror.

Silly. Marcus wouldn’t leave.

Getting up, you throw on a shirt and pad softly into the kitchen, not knowing what to expect when you get there. 

Whatever you had expected, the sight of Marcus at your stove in just his boxers and a plain white t-shirt that stretches deliciously over his shoulders exceeds your wildest dreams. Jack Johnson is playing softly over the speaker on his phone, and…

“Are you cooking?” you ask in disbelief.

Startled, Marcus whirls around, a brilliant smile spreading across his face when he sees you standing, confused, behind him. 

“Good morning,” he says brightly.

“Good… morning,” you answer. “What–what are you–”

“I hope you like pancakes,” he says, a little bashfulness creeping into his expression.

Your brow furrows. “I do, but I didn’t think I had any pancake mix.”

Marcus shrugs. “Just need flour, sugar, baking powder, milk, butter, and eggs. All of which you had.” Suddenly, he seems hesitant and unsure. “I hope you… don’t mind.”

“Mind?” you parrot dumbly. “Marcus, you’re making me pancakes.”

“I usually put vanilla in them too, but I didn’t want to, uh, presume too much,” he says with a little half-smile, “and use up any expensive ingredients.”

“Marcus,” you say again, starting to laugh at the whole situation. “You’re making me breakfast. From scratch.”

“Well, yeah,” he says, sounding slightly affronted. “I mean–why wouldn’t I?”

“I can’t believe you’re a real person,” you joke. 

Marcus’s smile starts to fade, replaced with trepidation. “Is it too much? Honestly. You can… you can tell me if it’s too much.”

You immediately shake your head, walking up to him until the two of you are touching and you’re looking up into his soulful brown eyes. “No,” you assure him softly. “No, it’s not too much. I’ve just never–no one’s ever done this, and–”

Your eyes flutter closed as Marcus cups your cheek with his warm palm. “The way I see it, you take care of me every morning–and everyone else, for that matter–and it’s high time I return the favor.” His lips gently brush your forehead, and an embarrassing whimper escapes your lips at the tenderness. 

“Coffee?” he asks softly, his lips still brushing your skin.

“Yeah,” you agree breathlessly. “Coffee sounds perfect.”

Accepting the steaming cup gratefully, you smile as the song switches over to ‘Better Together.’

“Jack Johnson, huh?”

“I get that ‘Banana Pancakes’ song in my head whenever I make them,” Marcus admits with a laugh. 

“I don’t have any bananas.”

“I know, I checked,” he says with a grin. “Next time, maybe.”

Next time. 

While you’re still processing the idea that Marcus wants to do this again, the man in question turns back to the stove and flips the pancake over in the pan before transferring it onto a plate and handing it to you.

“Wow,” you intone softly. “This is–thanks.” 

“It’s not a problem,” Marcus says with a soft chuckle, grabbing his own plate and cup of coffee and sitting down at your little kitchen island. 

You moan exaggeratedly at the first bite of pancake. “Marcus, holy shit. I don’t think I can ever buy boxed mix again.”

“Next time I’ll wake you up and we can make some together,” he says with a smile. “I can’t believe I get to teach you a recipe.”

“I’d like that,” you tell him quietly?”

“Yeah? We could do it next week, or uh… tomorrow, or–” Marcus trails off, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Whenever,” you murmur, smiling so wide it hurts. “Open invitation.”

“Good to know.” “I mean, you are my boyfriend, after all.”

“That’s true,” Marcus says with mock-seriousness. “I think we should celebrate by spending the day together.”

“Is that right?” you tease.

“Oh, absolutely,” Marcus answers with a glint in his eye. “But first–I have to admit, I’ve been staring at your little studio all morning.”

“My… my studio? Marcus, that’s a pile of paintings in the corner. It can hardly be classified as a studio.”

“I’ve been so tempted to look, but wanted to have your permission first. May I?”

Stunned into silence, you shrug, shake your head, and gesture weakly toward the “studio”–a paint-stained easel in the corner, surrounded by canvases.

“Yessss.” With a goofy pump of his fist, Marcus jumps up immediately and rushes over to it as if he’s a giddy art student.

You can’t help but laugh at his excitement, and the slight discomfort of having someone else in your space, scrutinizing your hobbies, your work, your life, melts away. It’s Marcus. It surprises you how comfortable you feel being vulnerable around him.

“Jesus, that’s a lot of art,” he remarks.

“Yeah, well, painting is my stress relief, so I paint more than I could ever sell.” 

Nodding, Marcus starts thumbing through the canvases, smiling at each new painting he uncovers.

Self-conscious of the haphazard piles of art, paint, and brushes, you grimace. “Sorry about the mess.”

Marcus shrugs. “Don’t be. I love to see the process.”

“My process is chaos.”

“A sign of genius.”

“Hardly,” you scoff. 

Marcus cocks his head to the side, a little crease on the bridge of his nose as he continues to look at your workspace, and doesn’t reply.

“...What?” 

Marcus blinks rapidly. “N-Nothing. I just, uh, thought of something. A–A work thing.”

“A work thing,” you repeat skeptically.

“A solution to a problem I’ve been having,” turning to look at you, he asks, “Have you ever done any exhibitions?”

“N-No, why–” 

“Would you like to?”

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #the mentalist #pedro pascal