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usetheeauthor · 1 year

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⚠️DARK FIC WARNING⚠️

When A Stranger Knocks At Your Door… (MDNI +18)

“Doctor”Emnu x Virgin!NurseNun!Reader

Summary: It’s the night of halloween in your little town and everyone is aware of the rule to stay indoors during demon hours. But when a mysterious doctor arrives to your nunnery looking to assist you with the ill patients, how could you possibly refuse?

DISCLAIMER: THE IMAGES HERE ARE NOT MINE! I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE IMAGES AND IF YOU KNOW THE ARTIST PLS PROVIDE TO ME SO I CAN CREDIT. credits: (above) bottom left image, (below first within story) image

Word Count: 8.0k+

A/N: this is a work of fiction and purely fantasy. real non con is absolutely pure evil. Anyway, i think Enmu is pretty and so underrated. I wish he had more screen time. Ah well, I love writing for underrated characters so here it is. This is a PWP fic with a twist and it will be based in a made up modern town named Wakimashi where it is multiracial with mostly Japanese cultural influence to somewhat remain true to the lore. Some lines for Enmu come directly from the show with some renditions. The images i use are a mix of screen caps from the show and artwork created by some really talented artists who’s work motivated me into creating this. I had some images to pair with the story but tumblr wont show my story in the tags so i guess i’ll make a separate posts with the lines in the story along with the images. I love the dynamic of demon x religious!reader so i did it here. It’s loosely based knowledge on nurse nuns. Please enjoy and thank you for reading!

TW Warnings/Tags: NON CON, DUB CON, violence, blasphemy, some hinted!Rengoku x Reader, religious imagery and undertones, Master kink, reader is called ‘pet’, mentions of murders and death, graphic language, blood kink, blood drinking, somnophilia, (dream) self harm, loss of virginity, tentacle sex, face fucking, oral (m & f receiving), dacryphilia, p in v (unprotected), anal play/anal sex, scratching, biting, creampie, cumflation, hairpulling, sub/dom dynamics, delayed orgasm/orgasm denial, squirting, nipple play, enmu’s BIG dick, monsterfucking, yandere!enmu, enmu’s hand, sex positions (the lazy doggystyle, spooning position, riding), somewhat fluffy towards the end, dilemma/cliffhanger ending

Halloween, it was once called. A holiday all in good fun. Back then, no one felt the need to worry in a town where everyone knows everyone.

But things have since changed.

One night, some years ago, completely changed the meaning of this holiday for future generations to come when a mass of demons passing themselves as humans in costumes would then massacre a total of 50 townsfolk in just under an hour. The only reason there had not been more victims was because an emergency alarm sounded all over town.

The day is now known as “The Devil’s Purge” stemming from the idea that the town of Wakimashi is cursed by God or the Devil himself.

Whenever the fateful night arrives, police stations and hospitals would shut down and people would be encouraged to stay home.

Yet as a nurse, you couldn’t bring yourself to abide by those standards. Especially when there are people out there with no homes and or people in dire need of first aid. So every year, the nunnery where you reside secretly opens to the residents during these times. Food and shelter are provided to anyone who hears of the shelter discreetly through word of mouth since the authorities would shut it down if exposed.

The nunnery would work with the Hashiras, providing first aid in exchange for protection and other assistance.

This year, however, the police were adamant on people staying indoors. So with the prospective thought that the nunnery wouldn’t be expecting many patients or people seeking shelter for the night, a majority of your fellow Sisters decided to board the Mugen Train this morning to do some charity work out of town only leaving you and 1 sister to tend to the 14 refugees.

A certain blonde-headed Hashira with red flamed tips greets you at the door. His smile is big and bright as always, something you’ve always admired about him. Despite facing gruesome situations, the man remained positive. “Y/n! Happy Devil’s Purge! Are you well and prepared?”

“I’m very much so, Mr.Rengoku. I’ve prepared as much as I could. I was just in the process of shutting all the windows in the home.”

“Will you be needing my services for tonight? I can check around the property for you before I go. Or if you’d like I can send a friend of mine over here for your protection. Wouldn’t want you to be all alone in here.”

“No, no. I’ll be okay. Sister Agatha is here as well.”

“Word of advice, do not answer the door for anyone after 6 pm. You are aware that once the sun goes down, the night belongs to them.”

“Then maybe you should stay,” You blurt out, slightly blushing and embarrassed. “I don’t mean to frighten you. But…I experienced a terrible nightmare the night before. I have a scary feeling that there is a reason why the authorities are enforcing stricter lockdowns. It’s as if they’re aware of what the demons plan to do.”

“I’ve got that same feeling.” He says solemnly.

“Please stay,” You take his hands in yours, seeing him blink in surprise at your bold contact. You quickly attempt to pull them away but he holds them in place. Exhaling, you continue to plead. “I get the worrying feeling that…I won’t get to see you again. You don’t have to slay demons all night, every night. Especially not on a day like this. Please…Kyojuro.”

You really worry for him. He is the only man who you have ever known this close in familiarity as the life path you lead expresses limited contact with those of the opposite sex.

Rengoku squeezes your hand. “I can’t stay,” He whispers, leaning in enough for you to feel his breath tickling your nose. “I wish I could. But I’ve made a promise to someone in my life that I will use my strength to protect those that need to be protected. I promise I’ll be fine. So don’t you worry. We’ll meet again. Okay?”

You stare up into his eyes, nodding. “Okay.”

The two of you part and Rengoku gains his happy-go-lucky composure. “I’ve come bearing gifts before I depart,” He whistles and a young boy enters with heavy baggage. “You can set those in the kitchen, friend.”

“What’s that?” You question.

“Bentos! I purchased them from a kind older woman and her granddaughter. You have plenty in case you experience a surplus of residents before sundown.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Rengoku!” You beam.

“Please, you know to call me Kyojuro. And I’d do anything for you, Y/n.” He quickly catches himself, blushing and rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I should be heading off now. My colleague and I will be boarding the Mugen Train.”

“Is it still in service? I was told that my sisters would be boarding the last train.”

“Yes, the train’s been delayed for hours but it seems that it’s running up again. I’ll be on a train with your sisters and protect them to the best of my abilities. I’m sure there will be some demon activity during the ride so it’s good to be one step ahead of them.” He says in a boisterous, rich tone.

“I will keep you in prayer.” You smile.

“Thank you. Well, off we go then! Enjoy the Bentos! They’re delicious!” He grins, waving out. The young Hashira bows his exit then soon follows after.

Locking the door behind you and adding the chain, you continued your preparation shutting the blinds and lighting the various candles throughout the home. You made a note to yourself that once you tended to the residents, that you would go into prayer to calm your nerves.

You spot Sister Nurse, Agatha, fixing some tea and cookies on a tray in the kitchen and you quickly go in to assist.

“The guests will love your cookies, Sister. They’ve always been a fan of your baking. I am, too, of course,” You smile.

“Would you like one? They’re fresh out of the oven.” She says excitedly, handing you a chocolate chip cookie.

You take a bite, moaning at the gooey softness of the confectionery. “Perfect as always. You’ve got to give that recipe,” You noticed her carrying trays on either hand, rushing over to take one. “I’ll carry the tea tray. It looks much too heavy for you to carry this all on your own.”

“Thank you, dear Sister,” She smiles. The two of you silently head up the stairs until she breaks into the empty air. “By the way, you and Rengoku have been spending an awfully close amount of time together…has anything become of it?”

You gasp at her, nearly dropping the tray. “Certainly not, Sister. Whatever you insinuate, I want to clarify that Rengoku is a man of honor as I am a woman of Mother Mary’s holy ward. I shall remain true to my vows of purity.”

“That’s what I was worried you’d say.” She mutters to herself almost as if she’s pitying you.

“Whatever do you mean, Sister?”

“It is nothing, Sister Y/n.”

“Are you saying that you are not…a virgin?” You whisper the last part like a bad word.

“I am a born again virgin. That counts where it matters.” She says, turning up her nose.

“Why, of course. My intentions are never to judge you. I’m simply curious as you are about my status. H-have there been rumors spreading about Rengoku and I? Do the other sisters know of this?”

The two of you reach the large room for the residents. “Nevermind that now, dear Sister. We wouldn’t want our guests to hear you speak such crass things. You take one side of the room, and I, the other.”

You offer the treats, carefully adjust pillows, and give a small blessing prayer to each guest. “Shall I lead tonight's prayer, Sister Agatha?” You question.

Then, you hear a knock on the door downstairs, you, glancing at the sky through the bedroom window. It’s sundown.

“I will lead the prayer, Sister,” Agatha says. “You can go on downstairs and greet the guest in need.”

“B-but Rengoku…he said I shouldn’t answer after sundown.”

“This isn’t our first year doing this, Sister. There’s no need to be afraid. What are the odds of coming in contact with a demon here? I’ve created a ring of salt on our porch for protection. There’s no possible way a demon could set foot past it. Go on, dear child. You don’t want to keep them waiting in the dark.”

“Yes, Sister,” You bow your head before rushing down the stairs. There is another knock again as you take cautious steps towards the door. Unlocking it, you leave the chain on and open it just enough for you to peer through the small crack. “Good evening.”

“Good evening, Sister,” A man says in a syrupy smooth voice that could melt butter. “I am Dr. Enmu. A sister of yours spoke with me earlier on my way home about needing my services here. I believe you possess some sickly patients. I can assure you I’ll do all I can to help them.”

There’s a presence about him that shakes you to the core. Could he be a demon? You’ve never actually seen a demon in person but you were given details from those who’ve encountered them. He’s a little pale, sure, but he seemed human. He’s eerily beautiful as well which didn’t help his case in terms separating him from the otherworldliness.

He has the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen, his black hair was shoulder length aside from the two hanging strips that go past it, and his face was so prettily structured that his beauty was comparable to that of a woman. He looked the part of a doctor, too. A white coat, stethoscope, dress pants and all.

But there was just something about him. This whole situation is suspicious.

“I apologize…but I—“

“Sister Y/n,” Agatha scowls as she approaches you. “I asked for this man to join us this evening. He is a fine doctor and willing to provide his services with no charge. Now, would you please let him in? The storm could be approaching any minute.”

“My apologies.” You say, giving in and stepping aside to let him through.

Maybe if he were a demon, he would have attacked by now. But this man was calm, a small smile never leaving his face. And he didn’t have those distinct markings that the demons usually are said to bear.

“I’m so sorry Dr. Enmu. It appears my dear Sister here is not of sound mind tonight.” She turns her attention to you.

“It is fine, Sister Agatha,” The man says. “Please do not be so hard on the poor girl. She is just being cautious. As we should, in times like these.”

You’re left surprised in his defense of you. There’s clear amusement in the way he looks at you. Like you were some prized collectible item.

“Sister Y/n, I’ll be showing the doctor to our patients.“Why don’t you stay down here and get a quick moment’s rest. I’ll be right with you.” Agatha says to you then turns her attention to the man. “Follow me right this way, Doctor.”

Enmu looks at you one last time and you swear you saw a sinister spark in his eyes before the ascent upstairs. You tremble, wanting to shake this darkened feeling. Getting onto your knees on the carpeted living room floor, you clasp your hands together and pray. “O, Mother. I pray to thee today for your guidance and protection. The enemy is at work and—“

Another knock at the door. You don’t think you could handle another strange encounter. But this was your duty and no matter how hard your heart pounds, you needed to bring yourself out of shock to help others. You pull the door open, revealing a rain-drenched Rengoku.

“Kyojuro…what are you doing here? What happened to boarding the train?”

“I just had to see you once more. Ever since you told me that you were worried you might not see me again…it stuck with me,” His hand cups your cheek. “I want us to be together and safe.”

“R-really? But people are talking about us in town.”

“It doesn’t matter,” He smiles. “I just want you.”

He pulls you into a hug and, at first, you were shocked but you soon melt into his embrace.

“But what about my vows? Your duties? It simply would not allow us to be together.” You whisper.

He lifts your chin. “We can be together as long as we relinquish those parts of us. We could leave town and find our new home.”

You look up at him confused. Earlier, Rengoku stated he made a promise to someone he deeply cared for about protecting others as a Hashira. This is so opposite of him. “Y-you’re cold. Um, would you like some tea? We also have cookies and bentos in abundance.”

“Sounds great!”

The two of you head into the kitchen where you set two tea cups for the two of you. You pour his fill then your own, trying to breath and calm your nerves.

The two of you clasp your hands in prayer and simultaneously bless the food. “Thank you for the meal.”

You raise the teacup to your lips, spotting a reflection of yourself distressed and screaming underwater. Everything clicks.

This isn’t your reality.

In a state of shock, the tea cup slips from your fingers and the glass shatters to the ground. Dream Rengoku raises his eyes from the meal to you.

“Everything alright, Y/n?”

You hyperventilate, smacking your head on each side. “Wake up! Wake up!”

“Y/n, what are you doing?!” Dream Rengoku yells in concern.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to drown out your surroundings. “Wake up!”

—————

In real time, your body is in a sitting position on the living room couch. Everyone in the home was now currently under a deep sleep. All except Sister Agatha who now crawled and begged on her knees, pleading for mercy from the demon.

She whimpers, tears flowing down her cheeks and her face lying down on the ground in submission. “I have fed everyone the cookies baked in your blood. And the Virgin girl is still pure. The Hashira has not bedded her. I’ve confirmed. There are no signs of corruption. Please…I’ve done all you’ve asked of me. I just want to see my baby girl again. I want to hold her in my arms. Please….”

“Certainly,” Enmu smiles, crouching over her bowing frame. “You’ve done a fine job. Now sleep forever and dream of a life with your newborn child.”

Sister Agatha collapses going into a deep slumber. Enmu could just chuckle with joy. This was a lot easier than he expected. But he doesn’t expect much from humans. To him, they are all so pitiful.

Tonight Enmu plans to devour every single human in the home. Although he wishes for a taste of you, he knows he’d be better rewarded if you were given to Muzan instead. He longed to impress his master in hopes of receiving more blood and becoming stronger. Then he’d get to terrorize even more humans.

He looks down at you. You look like a sleeping beauty incarnate. It wouldn’t hurt if he played with you just a little.

Lowering himself in front of you, he circles a sharp nail around your aroused bud, poking through your thin collared top. He twists and rolls it, watching your lips part as you mumble something again and again.

He kisses your neck, feeling your heart beating in it and he all but claims you there. Remembering that his mission was to gift you to Master Munzan, he quickly lurches away from you and presses down on his growing member.

Enmu retreats upstairs to his potential victims. He’ll be dining well tonight.

—————

You rack your head over and over. Dream Rengoku tackles you to the ground, pinning your hands to your chest. “What is wrong with you, Y/n?”

You needed a way out but Dream Rengoku was just as strong. There was no way you could free yourself. Then, you notice the giant glass shards from the tea cup you dropped previously beside your neck.

Were you really going to go through something so dangerously foolish? Well, it is like you had a choice.

You look up at the man above you who seemed genuinely concerned. It felt so real and you could easily get lost in this mimicry.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper before grazing your neck against the sharp edges. It cuts deep, severing an artery. He watches in horror as you begin to choke on your blood and eventually succumb to the wound.

Everything fades to black.

————-

You gasp loudly, eyes shot open as you frantically grip at your neck and check your surroundings. You can hear the roaring of the storm outside. The setting around you no longer had the dreamy filter lenses over your eyes. Everything was cold and gloomy.

This is reality.

Standing on your feet slowly, you spot a body on the floor, nearly screaming until you slap a hand over your mouth. The demon couldn’t know you’re awake just yet. Inspecting the body, you recognized it to be your sister who’d also been slumbering away. Trying to shove her awake, you recognized that she wouldn’t budge awake this way, too far gone.

Searching for a knife in the kitchen to equip yourself, you go up the stairs. Trying to go up as quietly as possible, you remove your shoes and your nylon-covered feet muffles the creaking against the floorboards.

When you reach the top of the stairs, you notice the door to the patients’ room opened half-way. Mustering up the courage, you jump in with your knife raised only to be met with the horror before you. He was drinking the blood of one victim’s arm, straddling their body as they began to turn pale but they’re too deep in their sleep to sense any danger.

You can see that some patrons were still alive, cringing and tossing as if they’re experiencing the worst of nightmares.

You drop the knife, mouth agape as you back away. Enmu hears this, turning to you. He was in full demon form. Greenish-yellow markings lined down his cheeks, veins protruding through his near translucent skin, the lower rank one eye, as well as the black hair highlighted with red and blue tips.

“What’s this? You’re awake?” He asks, baffled but impressed. “Did I not give you a dream tailored to your desires?”

He stalks towards you and you begin to feel for the door. “W-why?”

“That look of anguish and horror on your face is exquisite,” He moans. “Maybe I do prefer that you’re awake for this. I’d love to dine on your fears.”

You let out a shuddery breath, squeezing your eyes like somehow it would rid you of him in your presence.“Mother Mary, if you hear my prayer like you’ve done before. I ask for your protection,” You gasp through tears. “Protect us, dear mother. For there is a demon before me who wishes to take the souls of your people.”

You’re just so intriguing to him that he simply lets you continue in your prayer. Most humans would run by this point but you were standing your ground, praying to a being that would not answer you.

“This being that you pray to…are they all knowing?” He covers a fist over his mouth to stifle his laughter. “Could they tell you of all the things I plan to do to you?”

“I’m not afraid.” You hiss.

“Oh, is that so? The sound of your heart pounding in your chest says otherwise.”

“I am divinely protected. Mother Mary has saved me from your magic and she will save me again. I have nothing to fear. But you do. Free everyone from the spell or you will be facing God’s wrath.”

“But why would I free them…when they are right where they want to be. Everyone wants sweet dreams, my dear pet. Your sister practically sold you to me with no resistance just for a glimpse of a good life.”

You shake your head. “I don’t believe you.”

“How do you think you ended up asleep in the first place? Those cookies weren’t just made out of bitter truths. You humans are so easily swayed by your desires. I recognized this truth when I practiced as a doctor many years ago. Humans don't care for truths. They want to hear things that will make them happy. Blissfully unaware. I’ve had chronically ill patients believing they’ll heal from their ailments. I'd encourage them that they’re cured of their illness even though it was all lies.”

“How could you do something like that?”

“Because believing in fantasy is more powerful and so exciting that it’s easy to see it as reality. They may have died thinking they were healed but they died happily! I give hope as quickly as I can take it away,” He walks over to the bedside of one patient. “This man wishes that he married the one who got away instead of who he’s married to currently. And that woman wants to be young and beautiful again. All of these people, in this room and out, have their own dreams. Dreams that can reveal all your hopes and your fears. It is the central core of all humans. And now I’ve been gifted a power bestowed upon me by my Master to manipulate those cores as I please. To have the delight of watching people as they dream peacefully before their minds shatter into the descent of darkness…it’s like a sweet nectar to me.” He in a dreamy tone, his cheeks a crimson shade of blush.

Your breathing quickens as his tongue circles around his lips to collect the blood on them. “That look of pure agony and anguish on one’s face whenever there’s that sense of danger they have no way of escaping…mmm. It’s like that look on your face now,” He’s closer than ever but as much as your body tells you to run, you knew that his inhuman speed would only give him the advantage. He presses himself against your body. “You excite me, my dear.”

You try to push him, only for him to pin your hands above your head. “Let me go.” You bite.

“Why should I? Hmm? You’ve interrupted my meal,” His teasing, soft voice morphs into a dark growl. “I should punish you for that.”

You feel an unmistakable hardness against your tummy. Your fears aroused him. Enmu could smell it on you the second he arrived. He’d left his mission for the Mugen Train figuring you were a much better catch. Indeed, you were. So much so that Enmu wanted to taste you. The pure blood of a young virgin nun. He wishes he could corrupt you for himself. Make you belong to him instead.

He brings his lips to your tear-stained cheeks, ghosting them over your skin before flicking a tongue up to lick away the salty liquid. Even your tears taste incredible!

You cringe, the scent of blood wafts your nose as he licks away. Then, he suddenly pulls back to stare angrily at you.

“Do you desire that fool?”

You stare up in confusion. “Who?”

“That Hashira,” He spits out as if it were a slur. “Is he who you wish to deflower you?”

“I would never—.”

“Liar,” Enmu hisses. “If he was not who you desired, then you wouldn’t have dreamt of him.” He pinches either side of your cheeks with his thumb and index, forcing you to purse your lips.

He continues in an increasingly dark tone.“I should be the one you lust for. I am the one who could give you all that you ever need,” He’s once again playful in his tone. “If only you’d let the dream continue a little longer, you would’ve gotten to the best part. The part where I force him to watch you take every inch of me. Your poor virgin cunt wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’d watch you stretch and bleed around me. And you’d scream and beg. Both of you, helpless because there’s nothing either of you could do to stop it. Then, I’d kill him and fuck you against his lifeless corpse.”

“No.” You whimper, weakly.

He buries his face in your neck, nuzzling his nose against the thickest vein in your neck. “You don’t have to keep up this charade of yours, Y/n. I know your body. I hear it calling. Every part of you beats for me: from the veins in your neck, the heart in your chest, to the pearl between your legs.” He attempts to cup your pussy but you clamp your thighs together.

“Don’t touch me!”

A red, fleshy entity curls itself around your neck. You begin to claw at, gasping for air. “I can touch you as I please. You’re my pet after all. I tend to make good use of you,” Feeling like you’d had enough, he loosens the grip around your neck. “Would you like to try this again?”

He scans your face and you look at him with fury in your eyes but remain still for him to proceed. His hand cups your pussy and you’re embarrassed to realize that you’re drenched. “I like these games you play, my pet; pretending as if you don’t wish me to be inside you right here, right now. In fact, should I provide you evidence?” A tentacle lift your long white skirt out of the way. Pushing past your pantyhose and panties, his thick fingers rests below your sopping folds. He runs two fingers through them until he makes it to your sticky little nub, tapping on it repeatedly. You bite your lip, feeling your knees buckle under you.

“Just as I thought,” Enmu removes his black polished hands from you, revealing their glistening wet state. You felt humiliated! He hadn’t even gone inside you yet and you’re s puddle. “Your reward, my dear pet.”

He shoves his fingers into your mouth and down your throat, making you gag around them. “Better get used to that. You’ll be taking something a lot bigger. Very soon.” He giggles softly.

Enmu grips the back of your head, forcing you down on his fingers over and over. You were drooling all over yourself, eyes watering from your gag reflex being triggered over and over.

He yanks your mouth away and you end up coughing, slobbering all over your chin as you catch your breath. “Forgive me Father God and Mother Mary,” You whine just before he slams his lips onto yours. His tongue was rather explorative as he swirled it around your mouth. The taste of salty blood on his tongue and lips were enough to make you scream.

You feel his knee apply pressure to your core as he deepens the kiss. Enmu expects you to grind yourself against him which you were adamant on not doing so. He breaks the kiss, a thick line of saliva and blood on your lips. You pray, quietly, against his lips. “Forgive me, Mother Mary, Father God.”

Again, a kiss. And you felt your resistance weaken. “Forgive me…”

Another kiss but this time he pulls away prematurely and you find yourself being the one to lean in, searching for his lips.

“Eager little thing, aren’t we?” He teases, nose rubbing against your own. “Would you like to go further?”

“N-no. I want to keep my vows, my virginity.”

“You and I both know that isn’t going to happen tonight,” He tilts your chin up. “You’ll give yourself to me no matter what your head tells you because your body knows what it craves. Look.” He brings your attention between your bodies, your hips were mindlessly rolling into his for any form of friction.

“I can give you inexplicable pleasure or speechless pain and you’d take it all like the obedient pet you are.” He smirks, pinching your cheeks. The red flesh-like tentacles slither up and coil themselves around your body and between your inner thigh until you feel the pressure of it against your clothed core.

Your eyes look up at him, pleading. “No! It’ll hurt.”

“Don’t fight it or it won’t go in easily,” He cups one breast, kneading it through your shirt while kissing your shoulder. “Your screams are what I sought after anyway. So if you wish to please me, I want to hear you.”

Enmu tears your lacy underwear from your body as if it were made of paper. Your skirt is lifted out of the way once again as the tentacle attempts to squirm its way inside you.

“Please…” You whine and thrash, feeling it trying to force itself in.

“Oh pooh,” He pouts. “I’m not breaking through. You’re simply much too tight. I just might tear you apart if I push any further. We wouldn’t want that, would we? We’ll just have to get you worked up until you're ready.”

You’re forced onto your knees, face inches away from his cock which dares to burst from his pinstriped pants. He frantically makes work of the buckles on them, wanting to feel your frightened little throat close around him.

Enmu frees his freakishly large and veiny member and it springs forward colliding on top of your face. You’d never seen a penis before but you’ve heard stories of women expressing how unappealing most looked.

Enmu’s cock was furthest from that description. Despite being pale, it was girthy and long in length with a bubblegum pink bulbous tip. The thick veins that show through them were enough to make your mouth water for a reason you weren’t sure why.

“That’s going i-inside me?”

“Precisely. But for now, we’ll make use of your pretty mouth. Stick out your tongue,” He orders. You shyly stick out a quarter of it and he huffs. Pinching the tip of your tongue between his fingers, he tugs on it to bring it out further. “There you go.” He smiles.

Tapping the heavy length on your tongue, the tip leaks with his essence and you catch the sticky liquid on your tongue. The taste of him is addicting. He rocks his hips, letting himself slide back and forth on your wet appendage before shoving himself deep into your throat without warning. You gag around him, hands on his thighs to push him off. But the tentacles that kept you pinned down along with his grip in your hair makes you swallow him down and adapt to breathing around the huge length.

The horror of it all was how much you were beginning to enjoy it. The feelings of lust he’s brought upon you are more intense than the guilt you felt. You were sure your juices were currently gushing out of you onto the wooden board.

You should feel terrible that you were doing this in a room of people who came seeking your help from the very being that claims your body and soon virginity tonight. Yet, you suck him earnestly, bobbing your head up and down as you feel your restraint and sanity continue to slip away.

“That’s a good girl,” Enmu moans, petting your head. He also notices your change in behavior. He was right all along. You would eventually give yourself to him and sadly it didn’t take long. “You look like a dream. I could get used to you like this before me.”

One of your hands leaves his thigh to slide between your legs, playing with yourself as you moan around him. The vibrations cause him to whine out.

“For servant of Catholic scripture, you’ve got quite a sinful mouth. Am I turning you into a sexual deviant?” He gets his answer when you wrap a soft hand around his base, stroking him firmly while you continue to swirl your tongue around the tip. You kept your eyes on his bright blue ones the entire time; watching as they would flutter, widen, or bore intensely into yours.

He throws his head back relishing in the way your mouth wants to savor his taste. The blush on his face creeps up and his mouth drops open as he begins to salivate in a state of bliss.

“Master?” You say, ceasing all actions and looking up at him.

His eyes snap to yours, brain short-circuiting for a moment. To think of himself as a master. Like Muzan. It was a tempting fantasy, to say the least. He already has such an obedient pet who’ll serve his needs. “Y-you mean me?”

“Yes, master,” You notice his surprise at your sudden submission, smirking to yourself as you give his tip a kitten lick. “Could you please come in my mouth? I want to taste more of it.”

“How would you like it?” He says, thumb caressing your cheek.

“Fuck my mouth. Please.” You beg, your mouth back around him.

“Such dirty words for a good girl. But I’ll give you what you need,” He growls, fingers gripping the strands of your hair to force you down on him. The sounds of your gagging echo in the room and tears begin to stream down your face. A tentacle presses against your throat, applying pressure to the print of his cock in your throat; feeding then unsheathing over and over.

“Are you ready to receive another reward, my pet?” You stare up at him with starry eyes as an answer. He moans, high-pitched and shaky as you suckle hard to drink him dry. “Oh my, I’m coming!” You dig your nails into his thigh as he does so. He shoots his warm cum into your mouth and you’re swallowing him down joyously.

He cups your face to remove your mouth, lines of saliva break off from his semi-erect cock. You hold out your tongue showing him that you’ve swallowed it all. He smiles down at you through hooded eyes, baring his sharpened teeth. Under the moonlight, shining through the window, Enmu looks absolutely ethereal. Almost God-like himself.

“You’re beautiful.” You whisper to him.

He chuckles. “I can say the same for you, little one. I’m enamored to say the least.”

You kiss his hand, nuzzling your face against it. “I desire you.”

You felt something wet brush your cheek, jolting you enough to inspect his hand which had a sentient mouth. He smirks down at you. “He likes you.”

You place a kiss on its lips lifting your shining eyes to the demon before you. “I desire every part of you.”

He lowers himself to lift you in his arms, carrying you to an empty bed in the room. Once he lays you down so that you’re seated at the edge of the bed, he gets on his knees in front of you. Enmu begins to remove your nylon stockings and skirt and you make haste with your top and bra.

You're fully naked before him and he feasts his eyes all over you. Glistening wet pussy and hardened nipples, you’re like a 5-star meal and he’s a man starved. He groans, hands sliding down your body from your neck to the valley between your breasts then to your mound.

You’re hairy, having never needed to shave because of your faith. Enmu doesn’t mind this. In fact, it turns him on so much more.

He grips the hairs on your mound, pulling them upward to open you up more and expose your swollen clitoris. He just stares at you gushing more of your juices out of you, doing nothing to relieve the ache you felt. You whine, rolling your hips for him to do something.

His free hand comes up to pinch the sensitive nub eliciting a yelp from you. “It’s better than a dream.” He sighs.

He wastes no time, burying his head between your legs. His moans are desperate against your quivering core. His sweet, seductive voice is already enough to make you wet, now added with whininess and you’re flooding tongue.

You tug at his dark hair, grinding yourself against his face. He alternates between sucking and nipping your core with his sharp teeth, looking up at you with those big bright eyes.

“Thank you, master. You make me feel so good,” You mewl. He brings his mouth up to yours, allowing you to taste yourself. You feel yourself already accustomed to the taste of blood, your tongue running along his fangs.

Circling his longest finger around your tight entrance, he forces it causing you to gasp into his mouth at the foreign feeling. “How splendid,” He says. “Could you possibly take another?” You hear the squelch when a second finger enters you, mouth dropping as he begins to pump them slowly.

“Oh, fuuuck.” You whine, capturing his lips in a desperate session of tongues and clashing teeth.

He fucks his fingers into you deeper. “Am I really all you desire? Do you still care for the Hashira?”

“N-no, I only want you.”

“What about your God?” You were getting wetter and wetter by the second, liquids splashing your inner thighs and his fingers.

“I’ve renounced it all. I belong to you.”

“Do you mean this?” He flicks two curved fingers back and forth then swirl them around, thumb toying with your throbbing clit.

“Yes, master! Yes!” You sob. “Please just fuck me. I want your cock.”

Enmu feels a sense of pride at your admittance. He climbs over your body, kissing you roughly and nipping your bottom lip. You could feel his hardening cock sliding through your folds.

“Master…I want to feel your skin on mine.” You whisper, trying to remove his jacket. He watches you, amused by your desperation to feel him against you when moments ago you were pleading for him to stay away.

He figures he should assist you since you were begging to be fucked badly, crying tears of pain from not being filled. So, he quickly discards the reminder of his clothes.

You pull him on top of you, rolling around so that you are the one straddling him. You rest your core over the large tip. “May I please have you this way, master?”

“As you wish.” He says, breathlessly.

You sink down on his length immediately, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You hyperventilate, struggling and wanting to pull away from the intense pressure only for his hands to grip your hips and slam you down fully on his length. Your clitoris, making contact with his pelvis.

“Oh, my god.” Your hand flies up to cover your mouth in shock.

“Mmm, I wish you could see how perfect you look with horror on your face. I could feel the pain coursing through your veins intensifying. Ohh, it feels so good!” He laughs manically, fucking up into your extremely wet pussy. He pounds so deep you can see him poking within your tummy.

“My precious pet. So good. So needy.” He cries. Enmu has no doubt he’s broken the barrier within you. It was like you’d both felt the metaphorical “popping” off your cherry and soon you could smell the faint scent of blood.

You bounce on his cock, fucking him back. Even as the red tendrils slithered up to pin your hands behind your back, your rhythm doesn’t falter. He pulls your head down to look where the two of you neet, his thick trunk of a cock ramming into your swollen pussy which is now coated in a mixture of your arousal and blood.

“This means I own you now.” He beams and it almost appears as if he meant it out of love.

“Thank you, Master Enmu. I’m so grateful you’ve chosen me.” You pant.

He sits up, sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth then spanks your asscheek and you moan out his name. “We make a great pair, dear. I like to inflict pain and you like receiving it like a good little whore. I almost feel terrible ever thinking of offering you.”

“I’m yours. Only yours, Enmu.” You kiss him, sucking on his tongue and bobbing your head the way you would with his cock. You release his hand collides with another of your soft, plush globes.

“You just taste so sweet,” He whispers against the valley between your breasts. “Something I never could’ve imagined.”

His nails dig into your ass, scratching and separating them. Then, you feel something wiggle in the entrance of your puckered hole. “Relax and it shouldn’t hurt too much.”

A tentacle feeds itself into your ass and you cry out, biting into his shoulder which makes him cry out in delight. He just as much liked pain inflicted upon him, too.

Your nails dig into his back as he wriggles even more of it inside of you, stretching you. You felt so full, eyes crossed as he began to fuck you in both holes. His lips purse around your pebbled nipples again and it furthers your arousal as you cream around his cock.

“You’re sooo huge!” You whine, practically drooling on him.

Enmu rams into you over and over, the tip of his cock pistons for the soft trigger within you repeatedly. He alternates the motions so that whenever his cock goes in the tentacle would go out then vice versa and sometimes they’d pound into you at the same time and rhythm.

You’ve never experienced an orgasm but you were sure this one will possibly break your mind. Yet, you still chase it. Your hand slides in between your bodies to rub yourself when another set of tentacles take your hands again and pin them behind you.

“You don’t get to cum yet. Not until I know you’ve surrendered yourself to me fully.” He drives deeper into your cunt in time with the tentacle in your ass.

“Hnnngh.” You groan, only the whites of your eyes are shown.

All movement stops and he’s pulling out of you. You whine but soon find yourself being lifted like a feather and placed on your stomach. Your face is planted into the pillow beneath you. Without much preparation, he’s pounding into you again the sounds of your ass colliding with his pelvis sounding in the room.

“Fuck! Enmu, you’re so fucking good.” You’re crying into the pillow, the squelching and shlucking noises of your pussy around him drives you to madness.

He grunts above you, indulging in your constricting walls. Enmu knew at that moment he couldn’t possibly give you away to him. Especially not after the feelings you are making him feel when he’s never been the type to care for sex this badly.

You dig your nails into his hands, the sentient mouth biting down on your fingers. Enmu’s sweaty hair falls over his face as he fucks you into the mattress with deep, long strokes. The bed creaks under you, headboard banging loudly against the wall in competition with your screams.

A tentacle tugs your hair forcing your face to the side and brings itself to your mouth to suck on. You happily suck on it and the way he’s moaning lets you know that he’s feeling it as if you were sucking his cock.

He turns you both to the side, spooning you from behind and you can tell that he’s close by frantically he’s rutting into your suctioning core. Enmu brings your leg back, hooking it around his waist so that your clit is exposed, allowing the tentacle to suction on your clitioris. The tentacle has a tongue-like appendage that laps away at the sensitive bud as well.

“I’m close. I can feel it, Master. Oh, please can I cum? I’ve been so good!”

“Once, you cum. That means I officially own you, my dear. You’ll do everything I say from now on.”

“Whatever you want, master. I’ll obey,” You bring your hand to cup the back of his neck, forcing his lips onto yours. Your tongues fighting for dominance. “I want your cum, master. Own me. Own my pussy.”

“Ohhh baby…” He moans, feeling the familiar build up.

With your face turned up, you look over your shoulder keeping your face near his face as it hovers. The two of you breathe each other’s air, swallowing down every moan and sob as you stare intensely. His hands play across your stomach then press down on the bulge and your vision goes white.

In a silent scream, you spray your juices on his cock and all over him. At that moment, he bites into your neck and the feeling intensifies. You tighten around him like a vice and he’s cumming deep into you. His essence feels hot as it rages through you, painting as deep as it could and pushing past your cervix and it fills you to the brim. You felt so full inside you were sure that his cum made your stomach bloat a little in the process.

You moan out, feeling yourself lightheaded as he drinks your blood. All you could do is grip his hair for reality and that it’ll be over soon.

You go limp when he finally releases your neck, hitting into you one last time and playing with your clit and you were coming again and hard; despite your low energy. You’re shocked by how it was possible to do so. It felt so sudden yet here you were weeping and gasping on his cock.

You’re screaming again as the tentacle has no mercy, playing with your overly sensitive clit. You can hear horrifying screams outside in the night mixing in with your blissed out ones. Your eyes searching the room as you see the patients writhe in their beds still terrorized by his spell.

“Enmu, please…set them fr—Oh goddd,” You cry out, the pleasure is too intense to even concern yourself with the horrors that surround you.

“That’s right, pet,” Enmu teases, cock wreaking through you. “Let’s compete with those screams! While they’re experiencing their nightmares, you to live out your wildest dreams. It’s exquisitely beautiful.”

“Fuuuc—Ohhhh mmuhg.”You can hardly for words, twitching against him and eyes glossed over. The neverending orgasm finally ends and you now lay boneless, officially corrupted.

He kisses your neck, chest flushed against you. You wanted to cover your ears and block out the screams but you couldn’t move. You couldn’t even bring yourself to remove his cock from inside you. It didn’t seem like he wanted to slip out of you either, curling an arm around your waist.

“You’re mine forever,” He nuzzles against you. “That is our deal until the very end.”

“Yes, Master.” You say squeezing your walls around him and earning a guttural moan from him.

“Good girl. We’ll be getting you cleaned up once you gain your movements. You’re coming back home with me.” He rubs your stomach.

“M-master…is it possible that you could free these people? No more casualties need to happen tonight. You’ve fed on me. Am I not enough? I beg you. Release them.”

He pokes your cheek, playfully. “You’re much too kind for your own good. Tell you what…I’ll free these people… in exchange for the Hashira’s blood.”

You stare up at him in horror. “No! I—“

“This should be an easy choice. Must I remind you that you are the one who said you didn’t care for him anymore? So what’ll it be, my pet?” He smiles down at you wickedly and it was at that point you’re reminded exactly why he’s considered a demon.

@whisperinghallwaysofmirrors

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syren201 · 2 months

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Bittersweet

(Forgive me for I am new at posting fics on Tumblr.)

I've had a fic idea in my head for months ever since I watched Arcane and saw Viktor develop through the season. This was meant to be a later part of a bigger story that I'm not sure that I'll ever actually write, and it would be the wedding between an Arcane OC of mine and Viktor. So here is a little one off moment, more to get me back into writing.

Warnings: Fem!Reader/OC. Spoilers for 1st season of Arcane. Mention of terminal illness. A little spicy near the end if you look really hard.

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

Bittersweet

All eyes were on her as she walked down the aisle. It was almost unimaginable to her that this day has arrived. They had always talked about marriage, when it would happen, how it would happen. But that had always been for the future and his prognosis had hurried everything along.

We were planning to get married anyway, so why not now?

The guest list mainly consisted of friends and colleagues from the Academy. She could see Jayce and Mel from the front row, smiling at her. She remembered asking them the day before to not let any sadness through, she wanted today to be happy.

More faces. Heimerdinger. Sky. Others from her department and his. Considering how quickly this had been pulled together, she was surprised there were guests at all.

"We're getting married."

"Say that again?" Jayce looked up from his notes at the two of them, confusion lining his face.

She stood tall, a smile on her face as she squeezed Viktor's hand. Taking a glace over, she could see Viktor leaning heavily on his cane. "We're getting married."

A smile spread across Jayce's face as he stood up and walked over to them. "That's wonderful news! When... is the date?"

"In two days."

Jayce for his part tried not to look too surprised at the news. His eyes shifted between the two of them, his eyebrows slightly raised. "That's very soon."

This time, Viktor spoke up. "Well considering... how little time I have left. I just wanted to spend the remainder of it with us married."

And that had been it. No formal plans other than to show up with an officiant and get this done. They had notified who they could and went about making sure they had everything else they need. It was as they were buying their rings that Jayce and Mel had suddenly shown up and dragged them away from each other, stating that they needed the proper clothes to get married in and they were going to make sure they had the appropriate dress and suit.

So here she was, walking down the aisle with a hastily made bouquet, in a simple white dress, a smile on her face as she caught sight of Viktor waiting for her at the front. Growing up, she had been told this would be the happiest day of her life and it was.

But it was also bittersweet.

She had remembered the day he had collapsed and how fast she had rushed to be by his side, the news that the doctor had delivered. She had held her tears in front of him even as she crumbled on the inside.

"You should leave. Move on from me."

"No. If we only have so much time left, I want to spend it with you."

Finally, she reached the front. She spared the officiant a brief glance, but after that, she only had eyes for Viktor. No sign of the usual tiredness in his face as he smiled at her. Despite everything, this was still a happy moment for them and refused to think of anything else. The world seemed to melt away as they said their vows and before she knew it they were leaning in for a kiss. It wasn't a short one but her lips lingered on his as she pulled back and smiled. She squeezed his hands quickly before sliding her hand and linking arms with him. She caught the smiles of their friends as they walked back down the aisle together, now as a married couple.

Her heart was singing. It occurred to her that it never really did matter when their wedding day happened, as long as it did. And as they sat through a hastily planned dinner, they laughed and shared stories of their life together, no mention of the rising tensions between Piltover and the Undercity, no talk of science or their inventions, no acknowledgement of the very reason this wedding had been rushed.

Eventually the day ended ended and they arrived back at their shared home, eager to get each other out of their wedding clothes. It was here when his back was turned that a little bit of her emotions slipped and the smile faded from her face as the weight of their situation made a reappearance. She was quick regain her composure, putting a smile back on her face as he turned and reached for her. She let herself forget as she often did on nights like these when it was the two of them legs, tangled together on the bed. When everything was done and they were resting, she closed her eyes and let herself bask in the feeling of his arms. Nothing else seemed to matter now. Little did she know, in a matter of days, their worlds would erupt into chaos.

#arcane viktor x you #arcane fanfic #arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader

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parmahamlarrie · 1 year

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Happy March friends! This was a lovely month of reading, found some new favorites for sure. Hope you all enjoy! x

Play Pretend, Find a Friend? || @angelichl || 40.2k College AU, Fake Relationship, Coming Out, Mild Homophobia I don't normally lean towards fake relationships, but this one is clearly beloved for a reason! Such a great way to start my month!

Haven || orphan_account || 35.7k Teacher AU, Age Difference, BDSM Club, Kink Discovery, Kink Negotiation This fic has been sitting on my TBR for so long and I regret waiting as long as I did to get to it.

never been a fan of change, but we're still the same || @onlythebravest || 27.1k A/B/O, Friends to Lovers, College AU, Hurt/Comfort, Drops, Nesting

Checking Them Out?: How to Use Your Library Science Degree to Get an Alpha || @insightfulinsomniac || 19.9k A/B/O, Librarian Harry, Architect Louis, Courting, Humor, Mild Crack This is the best A/B/O fic of 2023 and I am so serious, go read it right now.

Fiction Romance || orphan_account || 17.5k University AU, Punk Louis, Blind Date, Oblivious Harry TW: Mental Illness (side character)

The Edge of the Stars || @casuallyhl || 16.9k Dating TV Show, Fashion Exec Louis, Writer Harry, First Date This was so incredibly lovely! I am such a sucker for dating shows on TV and loved this fic as well. I am without a doubt that these two would find real love on such a shit program.

Butterflies and Delight || @sunshineandthemoonlight || 13k Teacher Harry, Single Parent Louis, Dating Apps, Humor

Even As Young As You Are || @olo-gist || 12.3k Kidfic, Uncle Harry, Famous/Non Famous, Famous Harry, Nurse Louis This fic does a wonderful job of encompassing so many years in such a short time.

Eyes on the Horizon || @uhoh-but-yeah-alright || 12.2k Older Harry, Strangers to Lovers, Sky Diver Louis, Sexual Tension This was an unexpectedly wonderful one. Obviously, this author always does amazing work, but it was the tension that knocked it out of the park for me.

Come In and Change My Life || @lightwoodsmagic || 12.1k A/B/O, Famous/Non-Famous, Mpreg, Strangers to Friends to Lovers The kind of fic where you would dive in and read their entire life stories.

Be Mine? || @softfonds || 11.1k Valentine's Day, Famous/Non Famous, Fluff and Smut, Singer Louis

Enter the Rose Garden || @angelichl || 10.3k A/B/O, Friends to Lovers, Soft Heat, Pining

I'll drive and you just lay back || @alwaysxlarrie || 10k Girl Direction, Established Relationship, Watching Porn Together I hope you guys know every time a Girl direction fic gets posted I scream in my texts with my friend. This one did not disappoint.

my heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck (I'm in love now) || @bottomhaztoplou || 8.8k A/B/O, College AU, Courting, Friends to Lovers, Roommates A bit bias, as this was a gift in an exchange, but this was such a lovely piece of A/B/O fluff.

Everything I need, I get from you || @lunarheslwt || 6.4k A/B/O, Anxious Harry, Established Relationship, Valentine's Day

Missing You || @canonlarry || 6k Canon, Future Fic, Kidfic, Christmas, Humor

I wanna give it to you || @non-binharry || 5.3k A/B/O, Non Traditional A/B/O Dynamics, Sub Harry, Kidfic, Established Relationship This was so! I don't have words, just love!

Perfect, For Now || @parmahamlarrie || 4.9k A/B/O, Neighbor AU, New Towns, Touch Starvation, Misunderstandings Yes this is my fic, yes you should read it.

True North || @canonlarry || >1k Established Relationship, Kidfic, New Dads, Fluff

Looking for more fics? Message me for a more specific rec list!

Find pervious lists here!

#28th appreciation #parmahamlarrie #tracksintheam #trackinghappily #trackinghome #hlcreators #1dsource #yourlarrysource #fic rec list #my fic rec list #enjoy!#my fic rec lists #I read... a lot this month #mental illness innit #at least for me #anyways come yell at me if I messed anything up #or ask for more recs

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dinomang0 · 1 month

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Peculiar Drinks

Ayato offers Thoma another one of his odd drinks, making Thoma sick; however, what awaits Thoma outside the restroom door is another drink, one that Thoma, for his sanity and neediness, can't decline. Basically a smut fic.

(I posted this on AO3 but edited several parts[minimal edits, mainly word changes] I'll probably update AO3 with this version instead.)

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“These drinks are atrocious,” Thoma exclaims as he hovers over the toilet. “I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Thoma hears Ayato sigh from the other side of the door. “Thoma, you shouldn't be so dainty with food.”

Thoma can only groan at this reply. He’s an avid food enthusiast, but this is pushing his limits. Having grown suspicious of every item his lord comes home to has Thoma cringing every second, knowing that consuming it will lead to him taking a dreaded trip to the restroom, hunched over the toilet, with his hands gripping onto the sides. It was a common occurrence that Thoma couldn’t avoid, and no matter how much his mind told him to object to the offer made by his lord, Thoma always found himself accepting it.

However, dwelling on his misery won't excuse him from his duties of the day, so Thoma decides to clean himself up. He looks into the mirror, puts his hair back into a neat ponytail, and flattens his clothes. He’s embarrassed at having such a weak stomach and bolting out of the room after devouring the drink, but he has to come out of the restroom at some point because hiding here won’t do him any good.

Checking himself in the mirror once more, he exits the restroom and meets a concerned Ayato, who has his finger on his chin sucked into some deep thought as he leans against the wall in the hallway. They immediately lock eyes, and Thoma can already sense the different demeanor in his lord's character.

“I offer my sincere apologies, Thoma.”

“Oh no, my lord. You shouldn’t be so concerned, ” Thoma waves his hands. Thoma didn’t want Ayato to mellow over a minor situation like this because this was purely for fun, and there were no ill intentions with Ayato’s actions.

“I see, but I should have more caution with my source of… entertainment. My intentions do not fall within malicious ones, especially not having you regurgitate the items I offer .”

“To be fair, I am the one who chooses to consume them,” Thoma chimes. “I’d say the fault is partially mine as well. This isn’t to say the drinks aren’t awful because, my lord, they are horrendous.”

Ayato chuckles, and Thoma sighs in relief, glad his lord wasn’t wallowing in his culpability even though Thoma never held any grudge over any incident involving his lord handing him revolting drinks. Maybe he should, considering it was purely entertainment, but Thoma never did. Somehow, knowing it was for entertainment, made Thoma all the more willing to accept future offers.

“Thoma, that reminds me, I have a question I’ve wanted to ask you regarding this topic.” Ayato suddenly breaks the silence that filled the air between them both, and he steps away from the wall, repositioning himself in front of Thoma, whose back is near the wall. “If the drinks I offer are as horrendous as you say, why not decline them?”

The question catches Thoma off guard. Why does he always eat or drink everything Ayato gives him? It’s not like he’s terrified of saying no to Ayato; instead, he’s afraid of letting him down. But there’s no actual reason he does it apart from satisfying Ayato.

Or perhaps it has something to do with the way Thoma marvels at the look Ayato has when he innocently hands him a suspicious item. Ayato’s eyes seem delicate and angelic when he’s talking to Thoma about a new drink he wants him to try. But most of all, Thoma likes how Ayato looks at him after suffering through the agony of drinking the odd beverage. Ayato’s expression changes to one of concern and satisfaction, a mixture of two opposite emotions that make Ayato appear so enchanting. That is the sight Thoma seeks and a sight that makes Thoma’s knees feel weak, but he can’t just say this to Ayato, not without ruining the relationship they have.

“Well, you see, I—”

Ayato gets closer to Thoma, closing the space between them, and Thoma’s back meets the wall. “My lord?”

“You’re always rambling about these foods, yet your mouth still chews them,” Ayato looks into his eyes. “You argue about these distasteful drinks, yet your throat still swallows them whole.”

When Thoma doesn’t respond, Ayato quickly questions him. “Have you never wondered why I offer you such distasteful drinks?”

“Isn’t it for your amusement?” Thoma asks, knowing his question carries some truth to Ayato’s actual reasoning for offering him such condiments.

Ayato cunningly smiles, and it’s a smile that tells Thoma his assumptions aren’t far from the truth. “I offer them because, in return, I get a delectable reward,” Ayato smiles, caressing Thoma’s cheek. “I get to see you squirm in disgust, and let me tell you, Thoma, it’s almost like it’s an amorous sight to drink up.”

Ayato gently caresses Thoma’s cheek as he continues to explain his twisted reasoning behind offering him such repulsive drinks. “I love seeing your body tremble as you struggle to swallow the drink, the way your eyes squeeze shut with tears threatening at the corners, and the low groan of disgust you let out… it makes me hot all over.”

Thoma gulps, unsure how to respond because this was a predicament he hadn’t anticipated. He had just been in the bathroom, and now he stands here: his body in between Ayato’s arms, completely enveloping him whole as they cross the boundaries of their professional relationship, while Ayato confesses what he somewhat knew this whole time.

Ayato is closer to him than usual, and Thoma feels his face flush with embarrassment. But when Thoma looks directly at Ayato, he sees that his lord's face is calm, and his lip is up in a soft smile, looking as innocent as ever.

Trying to regain his relaxed composure, Thoma tries to sound as calm as possible and goes back to responding to Ayato’s first statement. “I swallow the drinks for you. That is why I never decline your offers.”

“Why is that? Why do you put yourself through so much agony for me?” Ayato puts a finger on Thoma’s chin and lifts Thoma’s face to meet his. Thoma remains quiet, not knowing what to say, but to his relief, Ayato covers the silence.

“You haven’t answered my questions,” Ayato laughs, “then again, I’m not allowing you to answer my questions because, quite frankly, I don’t need one.”

“All I need is you right now,” Ayato leans in and whispers into Thoma’s ear. “I’ve been needing you for so long, Thoma.”

The heat against his ear tightens his stomach and sends a shiver of desire through him. This action alone prompts him to grab Ayato by the collar and pull his face directly toward him. Thoma doesn’t let go of Ayato’s collar, and they maintain eye contact, both of their gazes conveying the immense lust they feel for the other. Ayato looks so full of intense sexual desire; his mouth is slightly open, making the mole below his lip appear so seductive, and the way his tongue licks his top teeth from the inside is enough to make Thoma’s desire reach an all-time high. Thoma gets the sudden craving to mess up his Lord, the man who always maintains his elegant composure no matter what situation he is in and walks with a great sense of dignity. Thoma wants that wall to break, and hell would it be beautiful if he were the one to break it.

Thoma doesn’t contemplate the consequences of his actions or the possibility of rejection. Nor does he bother relocating them somewhere more private when he decides to press his lips against Ayato's because all he wants at this moment is for Ayato’s mischievous eyes to be swept away with vulnerability and pleasure.

Ayato hums in surprise, caught off guard by the assertive move made by his retainer, but he immediately returns the kiss. They kiss each other, their lips gently capturing each other in a passionate kiss that shows how long they’ve desired each other. They take their time, savoring each moment, until Thoma slips his tongue into Ayato’s mouth, and Ayato complies with a low moan.

Fuck. The noise Ayato makes is so vulnerable, something Thoma isn’t used to hearing, and it sends him into a spiral of sexual longing.

Thoma grinds his hips against Ayato’s body, and both can feel the other's erect cock through the thick layers of clothing separating the two from close contact. Ayato moves his hands toward Thoma’s waist, holding him in place, and he begins to grind his pelvis into Thoma’s body. Thoma finds the length of Ayato’s hair and aggressively pulls on it, wanting to hear his moans of pain.

To his pleasure, Ayato gives off a low moan.

“So… aggressive,” Ayato groans as he keeps dry fucking into Thoma.

Thoma’s body is hot all over, and he swears he can cum from just this: dry fucking with no intimate touch, but Thoma needs more. He needs to feel more than just Ayato’s lips against his own.

“Ayato,” Thoma breaks apart from the kiss, tugging at his lord's collar, realizing that the saliva from kissing won’t do anything for his libido, so Thoma makes a suggestion, one he’s lustful for. “Let me…” Thoma moves his lips towards Ayato’s neck, placing gentle pecks against his skin. “... taste more of you.”

Ayato’s body tenses, his eyes widening, before grabbing Thoma’s chin, “ The pleasure is all mine.”

That is all Thoma needs to hear because the next thing he does is grab Ayato by the waist and turn them around, ignoring the quiet gasp that escapes Ayato’s lips and the noise made when Ayato's back meets the wall. Thoma slips his hand underneath Ayato’s shirt, longing to feel the pale skin beneath his clothing. He trails his finger along every inch of Ayato’s skin, making sure not to miss any spot. Thoma isn’t sure when he’ll ever be able to relish the sensation of Ayato’s skin, so he makes it his pivotal goal to touch every inch he has to offer.

Thoma unties the cord around Ayato’s waist, granting him access to remove his pants. The cords fall to the floor, making a small thud, and they both know nothing is separating them from intimacy. Thoma gets down on his knees and looks up at Ayato, curious as to what expression lies on his lord's face.

Ayato’s looking down at him with such admiration and want. It makes Thoma desperately want him even more.

May I?” Thoma tugs at his pants, asking for permission to remove it.

“Yes,” Ayato breathes out.

Thoma lowers Ayato’s pants. He’s met with his undergarment, and before he can ask for permission to remove it again, Ayato quickly replies. “Yes, Thoma.”

Thoma nods in approval and smiles up at the blue-haired man. His attention quickly diverts to the last layer of clothing separating his mouth and hands from Ayato’s length.

Before removing it, Thoma slowly traces his fingers along the waistband of Ayato’s undergarment. He then slips a finger in, gently moving his finger in circles slightly above Ayato’s cock, and he feels Ayato shudder.

Thoma caresses his cock through the layer of clothing, letting his palm roam up and down the unfamiliar intimacy of his lord. Thoma places a kiss on Ayato's cock, his hand still exploring him. He opens his mouth as he kisses the head of his cock and sucks on it, damping his lord's undergarments with his saliva. He knows he’s provoking Ayato, a man known for his disappointment when plans don’t go his way. Thoma’s aware that the only thing on Ayato’s mind is having his cock inside of his mouth, but Thoma doesn’t want to give Ayato anything just yet. He wants his lord to suffer, to know what it feels like when someone other than you is in control. He wants to render Ayato powerless and entirely at his mercy.

“Enough with the teasing,” Ayato groans, impatience coursing through his body.

Thoma’s amused by the neediness in his lord and questioningly hums, “What’s the rush? Are you that eager to get sucked?”

Thoma slips off Ayato’s garments, and he immediately stares at the cock in front of him. It was huge, full, and hard, and Ayato’s cock, which was everything Thoma had ever wanted in his mouth.

Before taking all of Ayato’s length into his mouth, Thoma starts with slow licks. He licks the sides of Ayato’s cock, gradually working his tongue up and down, making sure he covers every inch. Thoma wants every inch to feel the wetness of his tongue.

Thoma wants Ayato’s cock to have his print.

He suddenly takes Ayato’s length into his mouth and feels Ayato’s legs shudder against him. He gags at first, the length far too big for the size of his mouth, but he still accepts it in him. Having his mouth full of his lord's cock makes him wallow in shame and pride, and it’s a sensation he’ll never be able to let go of. Tears prickle at the corner of his eyes as he tries to deepthroat it, his head coming up to free his throat and back down to fill him with Ayato’s cock.

“Good boy, you’ve got it,” Ayato praises Thoma for taking him in so well while gently caressing Thoma’s cheeks.

The praise makes Thoma release a soft hum in satisfaction, and he takes him in whole again. He bobs his head up and down, the sound of sucking and saliva being the only thing audible in his lord's hallway. Thoma places his left hand on Ayato’s cock, slicking it with the saliva on his cock, and he begins to move it in the same rhythm as his mouth. His hand and mouth work up Ayato, feeling everything, touching everything, and reeling in the sensation of his bare cock against his skin.

Ayato stretches his arm out, and before Thoma is aware of it, Ayato aggressively pushes his head down, making Thoma choke. Thoma’s vision blurs, and he feels himself get full of Ayato’s cock, far more than he could handle.

Without warning, Ayato grabs onto Thoma’s head, shoves it away from his cock, and leans down. He grabs Thoma’s chin, lifting it to meet his eyes, “Would you mind if I were to face fuck you?”

Fuck. Thoma’s dick twitches at the vulgarness of Ayato’s question. To have Ayato have his way with his mouth would be shameful yet so rewarding for the lust he feels spreading throughout his whole body.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Thoma looks up to meet Ayato, who looks down at him with a lubricious smile.

Ayato lets go of his chin, and Thoma watches as he places his hands on either side of his head. With no warning, Ayato shoves Thoma’s head down, letting his throat meet the end of Ayato’s cock. He gags at the sudden assertive move, not having much time to process the sudden invasion in his throat. Thoma’s hands quickly reach out toward Ayato’s waist, gripping both sides for stability. Ayato starts thrusting into Thoma’s throat, his grip on Thoma’s head remaining harsh with every thrust. Tears swell at the corner of Thoma’s eyes, but he rapidly blinks, refusing to let any slip so soon.

Thoma feels the way Ayato’s cock hits the back of his throat, not giving him any chance to breathe before the next thrust makes its way into his throat, filling him full of Ayato’s length over and over. He’s not given any breaks to take long breaths. It’s as though the only thing breathable right now is Ayato.

Before he knows it, he feels warm tears slowly trailing down his face, the warmth making the pit in his stomach grow deeper, and it makes Thoma imagine the sensation of a warm substance in his throat. The warm pool in his stomach only gets hotter the more he feels Ayato’s cock in his throat.

For only being in his throat, Thoma feels like Ayato is in him whole. He feels Ayato in his stomach and in his hole that’s longing to be filled with his lord's cock. It’s unbearable. Thoma wants his lord to release in his mouth so all of him can be consumed by Ayato’s fluids.

“Do you like getting your throat mercilessly fucked by your lord?” Ayato breathlessly asks, his body succumbing to the pleasure of having his cock slicked with Thoma’s saliva.

Thoma hums, unable to respond to his lord's question because Ayato’s cock sits still in his mouth. “I asked you a question, didn’t I, Thoma?”

Thoma looks up at Ayato with teary eyes, rapidly blinking at him to show him that he’s unable to speak with such a thing in his mouth.

“Ah, right, it’s nearly impossible to speak when your mouth’s full with your lord's cock isn't it?” Ayato caresses Thoma’s cheeks with his finger, slowly trailing upwards. Thoma feels Ayato wipe a tear away from his eye, and he watches as Ayato brings his finger up to his mouth and licks the tear off his gloved finger. “How shameful, look at you sucking off your lord in public, while everyone else works hard and you’re here.”

“Are you not concerned about any retainers walking in on us?” Ayato questions, and Thoma hums, gently shaking his head as he looks up to his lord. “The fear of them walking in any moment makes me even hotter, Thoma, and I’m sure you can agree.”

Ayato then quickly gets back to throat fucking into Thoma. Thoma notices the increase in pace and the clumsiness in Ayato’s thrusts. Ayato is close to his orgasm, and Thoma is ashamed to imagine how he is too. How pitiful of him if he were to cum from throat-fucking his lord.

“Fuck Thoma,” Ayato moans. “You feel so good.”

Thoma feels saliva trail down his chin and onto his neck with every movement of Ayato’s thrusts that restrict him from having any control over his mouth.

Thoma continues to deepthroat his cock, paying more attention to his movements as he brings Ayato closer and closer to his orgasm. “Please, please, just like that,” Ayato begs, desperation lacing his voice, making Thoma moan at the neediness in his lord. Ayato continues to give low moans, begging his retainer to continue to please him.

“Thoma,” Ayato moans, his body shaking as he releases into Thoma’s mouth. The warm fluid shoots into Thoma’s mouth, and he pridefully swallows it. It’s warm and salty and something Thoma has never had the pleasure of tasting before. The taste is impeccable and mouth-watering, and the warmness of his cum makes his body jerk forward, making him moan in pleasure. Thoma makes sure not a single drop escapes his mouth because it’s Ayato’s cum, his lord's cum, which makes this even more arousing. After all, an assistant swallowing his lord's cum while the others are outside the estate, innocently carrying out their duties demanded of the commissioner while one of them gets face fucked like a whore, is a vulgar act that makes Thoma feel filthy.

Thoma feels so dirty having swallowed Ayato’s cum. Swallowing his lord's cum, is such a degrading and pleasurable experience, and something he would have never imagined would have him so excited.

Thoma opens his mouth to let go of Ayato’s cock, allowing Ayato's cock to hang free. He pulls his face away, a string of saliva present that attaches his mouth and Ayato’s cock. Thoma looks up at Ayato and sees his body leaning against the wall with his eyes focused on the ceiling, the back of his hand against his forehead, sweat dripping down his red face. Thoma realizes that vulnerability looks so beautiful on Ayato, and he can’t help but admire the mess he’s put Ayato in.

Thoma wipes his face, removing the saliva covering his lips and chin, and stands up. He knows he looks a mess, with his cheeks stained with tears and his hair a mess. Thoma silently stares as Ayato fixes his clothing and ties his cords, making sure he looks presentable after such a sexual scene before heading out to fulfill his duties as commissioner for the day.

Ayato looks up at Thoma, moving closer to the man. “You were so good, Thoma.”

“And you tasted far better than that odd drink you gave me earlier,” Thoma says, looking into Ayato’s eyes and back down to his pink-flushed lips.

“Then maybe from now on, I should offer you myself instead of odd drinks,” Ayato suggests, tracing his fingers against Thoma’s lips and letting his thumb drag down his bottom lip.

Thoma grabs onto Ayato's thumb, stroking the top.“That sounds far more tolerable,” Thoma replies, doing his best to appear unfazed by the venereal suggestion offered by his lord, even though his stomach clenched at the suggestion

“Great,” Ayato replies, diverting his attention from the ceiling onto Thoma. “I’ll offer you another drink tomorrow.”

Thoma catches Ayato’s sexually suggestive smirk and offers one of his own. “I’ll look forward to it.”

#thomato #ayato x thoma #thoma x ayato #genshin impact smut #kamisato ayato #genshin thoma #genshin impact fanfics #assertiveness #teasing #gentle domination #dirty talk #blowjov #genshin impact ayato #genshin impact thoma

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louscartridge · 3 months

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DANGER FORCE MASTERLIST

i do not give permission for my fics to be posted claiming to be yours, translated, or posted on another platform.

i try to make every fic of mine so everyone can read then despite their gender, race, and sexuality unless stated otherwise.

tw i will be writing about triggering topics such as eds, sh, and just angst in genral as they are rly big comfort fics for some people. these fics will be marked with ♡

henry danger masterlist here

bose o'brien

chapa

as of right now, the only danger force characters i write for are bose and chapa. possibly in the future ill write for more of them.

#chapa x reader #bose o'brien #bose obrien x reader #danger force #luca luhan #havan flores #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #request #requests open #chapa

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cranberrymoons · 9 months

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hi! i'm sage. I'm glad you're here! just a few things:

i'm 32 – if you are a minor, please do not follow/interact. the content on this blog is intended for adults, and I assume everyone here is 18+

this blog is multi-fandom but I'm deep in my stranger things era right now and rapidly spiraling down the firefighter rabbit hole. i'm also in the middle of an ill-advised supernatural rewatch and the brainrot is unfortunately here to stay ✊😔

you can find my fandom writing on ao3 here and under the 'my fic' tag on this blog and in the masterlist under the read more. reblogs of other peoples' fic are tagged as 'fic', and writing resources etc are tagged as 'writing'.

i think that's everything. love you!!!!!!

fic masterlist 🩷

here you come again (16,172 words, rated E, stommy)

Steve and Tommy haven't talked in nearly three years. After everything, maybe the best way forward is back.

for the rest of mine (644 words, rated M)

It happens on a Tuesday night, with the soft whirl of the dishwasher running in the kitchen and ESPN on low in the background and Chris’s homework left laying out on the coffee table when he went to bed about an hour ago.

heart in throat (am i dreaming?) (1,227 words, rated T)

I kissed someone, he imagines himself saying eventually, when he’s ready. I think I really like him. Just like that. No big announcement, no declaration, but just – just letting it sit there and breathe between them.

already standing on the ground (1,195 words, rated T)

Buck lets out a laugh, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck. Laughing like he’s relieved, like he can’t quite believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “We were on a date.” And – Eddie blinks. “Oh.”

current wips

the seas be ours (steddie pirates au) (2 works, 10,943 words, rated E)

Eddie The Dread Pirate Munson captures the Harrington heir with the intent of ransoming him back to his family for an easy payout. He really could not have guessed what he was getting himself into.

back in the new york groove (26,823 words, rated E) summer 1999 | tumblr post | ch 6/? rockstar eddie/middle school teacher steve, soft dom steve

“Ha!” Eddie says, jabbing a finger into Steve's chest. “I have a publicist. That automatically makes me cooler than you.” “Oh yeah? Well I have about eighty twelve year olds back in Santa Monica who think I’m the coolest guy on the planet.” (new york isn't home, but it's the next best thing) Steve and Eddie chaotically parenting their gen-z toddler in the late 90s (part of the future fic series)

future fic series (23 works, 64,995 words, rated G-E)

a love letter to the idea of home or, the happily-ever-after future in which Eddie is a rockstar and Steve is a middle school teacher and they have a bunch of kids and live by the ocean (rockstar eddie + middle school teacher steve)

a love to last past saturday night (3,550 words, rated T for now but will go up in later chapters) | ch 1/? coffee shop au

There’s a little cafe at the end of Steve’s block that he’s only ever been in once. It’s called Corroded Coffee and it’s dark in there and maybe a little pretentious, but not pretentious as in… people reading classic novels or having discussions about French Cinema. Pretentious in the sense that there’s an intimidating collection of vinyl records taking up half an entire wall and they use single origin arabica beans and the scary baristas look at you sideways if you order regular milk in your latte.

complete/one shots

so fondly today (8,267 words, rated E, complete) processing trauma, getting together | tumblr post

Eddie's hair is pulled up on top of his head, and there’s a piece of it falling down to frame his face, and Steve’s sleep-deprived brain sends a shock of want rushing through him. Want: he wants to touch? Wants to look? He’s looking. Wants to… something? He feels electricity crackle at the backs of his teeth and he blinks, wanting. Wanting so badly that something aches inside his chest. (it's been a few months since everything, and steve is beginning to realize some things about himself)

get it off your chest (7,415 words, rated E, complete) rough sex, spanking, read the ao3 tags! | tumblr post

“You think this is me taking you apart?” Eddie asks. He lets go of Steve’s hair and plants a hand in the center of his chest, then gives him a shove toward the bed. “That’s adorable, Steve. Seriously.” (or, steve and eddie have life-affirmingly good sex) aka my Consent Is Sexy manifesto

dressed up to the eyes (8,737 words, rated E, complete) rough sex, spanking, read the ao3 tags! | tumblr post

Steve almost didn’t come out tonight. It’s been a long day, and he kind of just wants to be at home in his sweatpants, curled up on the couch with takeout and an old movie, but – But he’d agreed to be social tonight – if nothing else, in Robin’s honor since she was supposed to have a date tonight but is trapped in bed with the flu – and so… here he is. Being social. Ish. Socialish. Steve and Eddie are strangers in a bar... or are they?

something so pretty (3,087 words, rated M, complete) | tumblr post

Eddie raises Steve's hand to brush a kiss over his knuckles, then catches him around the waist again, swaying them back and forth to the rhythm of a Bangles song coming from the radio. “I said you look pretty, and I meant it. Deal with it.” Steve feels a reluctant smile pull at the corners of his mouth. “Really?” (the girls paint steve's nails and it causes him to feel several enormous feelings)

can't start a fire (3,831 words, rated T, complete) | tumblr post

“Are you sure this is okay?” Steve asks in an undertone once everyone has arrived that first night. He looks genuinely nervous, which is… insane; he’s a bat-wielding, bat-biting jock who saved the world, and Eddie’s just – “I don’t think your friends like me very much.” Eddie feels the corners of his mouth draw down as he follows Steve’s eyeline to where the others are huddled in the corner talking amongst themselves. (steve doesn't need people taking care of him. except, maybe he kind of likes it when they do)

the sweetest thing (14,022 words, rated E, complete)

It had started out simple enough between them, Eddie making some off-hand comment about Steve not being able to hold out for a whole month and Steve, ever unable to back down from a challenge, rising to the bait. “Whatever,” he’d said, rolling his eyes. “A month? Please.” He could do a month. Easy. He just hadn't counted on Eddie being – well. Himself. eddie goads steve into a No Nut November challenge; he never said anything about taking it easy on him

misc. series:

kinktober 2023 (14 works, 39,566 words, rated T-E)

a collection of fics written for kinktober 2023 and eddie month 2023 prompts – works can also be found on tumblr under the "kinktober 2023" tag

steddie microfic (14 works, 5,644 words, rated G-E)

a collection of microfic written for the monthly steddiemicrofic challenges – works can also be found on tumblr under the "steddiemicrofic" tag

discord drabbles (9 works, 4,476 words, rated G-E)

a collection of drabbles/microfics written for daily discord prompts – works can also be found on tumblr under the "discord drabble" tag

steddie holiday drabbles (27 works, 20,670 words, rated T-E)

the 2023 fic advent calendar! a collection of fics between 300-1,000 words each, written for steddieholidaydrabbles' prompts and warm-up rounds – works can also be found on tumblr under the "steddieholidaydrabbles" tag

miscellaneous lol

kill of the night (1,067 words, rated T, complete) fandom: crazyhead | tumblr post

“Do you remember the Hell Ball?” Raquel frowns, setting down her own slice. “You mean the one a few days ago where I almost got murdered and turned into a portal for demons to enter our mortal coil and take over the planet?” “Yeah,” Amy says. “That one.” “Then yeah,” Raquel says. “Guess I remember it.”

#my fic #fic #writing

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havecourage-darling · 1 year

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is the mdni new? i didn't notice it when i first followed

Yes it is!

I tend not to write smut very often (because I'm not that great at it) but some of my more recent (as in the last year) fics do have smut/implied sexual content scenes and with what's happened recently I want to make it absolutely crystal clear that I am a grown adult (I am 29!) and do not want minors interacting with any of my content that isn't age appropriate. I made a post about it here.

That being said - I understand that I did not only write for Stranger Things (although my Marvel series has some implied sexual content too) and a lot (if not all) of my older Harry Potter stuff is very G-Rated, general/fluff.

I don't want anyone who enjoyed my HP stuff to think they can't read/interact with it - I'm very grateful for the love my Badger series got! - but I'm no longer writing for it at the moment. Most of it is also on AO3 since I stopped posting it on Tumblr. (JKR can fall into the void and never reappear for all I care. I'm trying to find the boundaries of Death of the Author with her, because HP quite literally saved my life when I was in the midst of serious mental illness but she's also a disgusting human being and I don't want to support her, but that's not what this post is about.)

Anything Marvel/ST related that I will be writing/am writing/have written may have sexual undertones to it, some smut, light smut, serious smut, etc. and I don't see that changing anytime soon. Absolutely any fic of mine where the setting is still in school/just out of school (almost, that boy is mine now, peach series etc.) the main romantic characters are all still 18+. I have a decent following now and will try to comb through any blank blogs. So, for the the foreseeable future, I will be an 18+ blog, especially considering recent events + the nature of my writing.

I've always been someone who gets more DMs from my followers vs. asks and I wanted to make that pretty clear -- I so appreciate the support. I ultimately cannot control the media people consume, nor can I know if a blog is lying about their age, but minors interacting with any fic of mine where I've written smut makes me very uncomfortable. This is a hard boundary for me and I'd very much like for it to be respected.

For all those reasons combined, I've decided to make my blog 18+ only and added the MDNI clearly on my bio.

Additionally, I will not be interacting with any blank blogs, nsfw anon asks, even nsfw non-anon blogs if your age is not in the bio. I've also had a few messages so I thought I'd clarify here. I do not write smut only (usually it's part of a longer fic or a series) meaning I don't do pwp (not saying I won't in the future but I won't take requests for it), I don't write dark topics, no noncon, incest, age gap, underage, power differences, etc. I don't even really write dom/sub.

This got a lot longer than it needed to be but I wanted to address it since I had a few message about it!

#eddie munson x reader #bucky x reader #ST #asks #mdni

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marypsue · 1 year

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not to be a horrible shipper all over your plotfic but what would the ships look like in your ageswap au?

The sample I posted does rather invite the question!

I should put out there, as a general rule, I'm not all that interested in Mike/Will and I don't have plans to write it anywhere. I don't really vibe with it, generally, and I believe I've mentioned previously (but maybe only in tags) that I really hate the way the Duffers conceived of and have been handling the possibility that Will might be gay. And many of the ways parts of the fandom have acted in response. I get that it's important to some people, and I don't want to rain on anybody's parade, but I've seen so much bad behaviour from the showrunners all the way down that it's pretty firmly put me off.

With that said, though. This fic was undertaken before I'd had much exposure to the fandom, and also, the roleswap plays...well, a role. I'm a sucker for a good triad relationship, especially the Monster Hunting Trio, and in this version of things, that's Mike and El and Will. So this is probably the only time you're ever going to see me writing reciprocated romantic feelings between Mike and Will. It's just that El is also there. And the entire context of their previous relationships with each other has changed. It feels different. I don't know. I'm operating on vibes, here.

Also because of the roleswap, this is one of those rare places where I'm not mashing Steve and Nancy and Jonathan's faces all together. Nancy and Jonathan are the Hopper and Joyce of this fic, and Steve is the Karen Wheeler. He'll be fine in his loveless marriage while the other two are off having fantastic post-saving-the-world sex. Maybe he'll have an ill-advised affair in the future. Who can say.

(Also Nancy and Barb had a brief on-again-off-again fling post-Nancy's-divorce, which has been over for some time as of the action taking place. Long enough for Barb to find a more stable relationship with the other local lesbian...)

I'm pretty sure that's it, as far as romance goes. Apart from the teen squad, it's pretty secondary to the plot in season 1, and I'm sticking with that. (Also, I need lots of time and space to fully mine the hilarity of Steve being Mike's literal actual father.)

#chatter #ships. plots. triggers. character deaths. whether there will be a banana appearing in a scene. it's all fair game #so long as everybody's respectful about it i love talking about fic whatever shape that takes #and i absolutely don't mind giving warnings or heads up if there's something you're particularly concerned about appearing #(or not appearing)#also it's genuinely nauseating how people want to give the duffers backpats for taking the stephen king route #and using their fiction as an excuse to use every slur they know #'oh the one who's been the target of vicious violent homophobia the whole time is the Only Gay One' try the fuck again boys.#(i have not forgiven them for what they did to robin as soon as she was Canonically Into Girls)#sorry I have. a lot of feelings on this topic.#i'm also most interested in reading will as aro-ace and the duffers' bullshit has only made me double down on that #but i don't want to talk about it like i'm only doing that reading out of spite because i do genuinely think it's interesting in itself #so if i'm going to talk about that i'll do it in a separate post #bc I also don't want to imply that it's an either-or and you can Only have One True Sexuality Headcanon for a character #(they're fictional your honour. this stuff depends on the reader and can also differ in context.)#(like how in the context of this one AU i'm interested in a triad relationship i won't be writing in any other contexts)#also I absolutely don't want to fight anybody for the dubious honour of getting shittily canonized by the duffers' bad takes lmao #'is it/will it ever be canon' is the least interesting metric by which to measure a ship/headcanon/etc to me

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stargirlo · 3 months

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૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ : please read the rules & respect my boundaries. i suggest to know how things come and go around this blog !

— ꒰ ◟ .𖥔 ˖ GENERAL RULES this blog is primarily targeted in nsfw and is jjk centric (it can extend towards other fandoms as well). i suggest that minors, please do not interact with nsfw or explicit content whatsoever, it makes me extremely uncomfortable thinking that a minor could be reading my works.

most of my fics are all fem reader, i don't specifically know how to exactly write about male anatomy just yet so i'm more comfortable on writing about female reader than i am to male reader. i'll try in the future to do gender neutral reader for more upcoming fics.

i use a lot of petnames when i interact with my mutuals and i am sarcastic most of the time, please lmk if you feel uncomfortable about me calling u cheesy petnames or anything of any sort! and another note for me being sarcastic, please do not take my sarcasm for the wrong idea, i may accidentally sound like a bitch when i don't mean it. i am really nice!! it's just sometimes i feel silly and say some shit that comes to my mind. when it comes to hate anons then... 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙'𝖘 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖎 𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖗𝖞, just kidding, i will most likely ignore and delete hate anons bc i really don't wanna waste my time on someone who called me a bitch or wtv, i literally dgaf.

i will sometimes take a break from tumblr, i experience real life things too and i am a human also. i only use this app as a hobby of mine. it isn't a job for me to post fan fics by each passing minute, i do what i want in my own account bc i can. please understand that i'm not some kind of robot that stays on my phone all day, don't expect a lot of updates from me.

— ꒰ ◟ .𖥔 ˖ REQUESTS requests are currently closed, i literally don't have a legitimate time to do people's requests so i would always love a good thirst! if i were to do request then please do not be weird on requesting things, you will be blocked. please do not pressure me into writing, it's really overwhelming 4 me ! :((

— ꒰ ◟ .𖥔 ˖ YES AND NO there are some things in writing that i don't find quite appealing for me to write, so here are some things i would most definitely write and some things that are a big no for me.

yes: fem reader, wlw, any type of kinks (excluding any nasty shit), bdsm, aphrodisiac, corruption, spitting, lubrication, soft n consesual sex ^^, movie actors, double penetration, overstimulation & edging, pussy slapping, fingering, squirting, clit stimulation, clit pinching + biting, protected sex / unprotected sex, breeding, creampies, choking kink, lactation / pregnant sex, praise and degradation, spanking + slapping, orgasm denials, fwb -> literally anything, any type of love tropes, size difference, age gaps (reader will be 20 and up), many more to come.

no: incest / stepcest, anything that involves piss and shit, scat, non-con / dub-con, blackmailing, slutshaming, mentions of gang violence, blood, gore, self harm, foot fetish, suicide, objectification, stalking, fantasizing / romanticizing any types of disorders or mental illness (deppression, anorexia, eating disorder, etc.), cherry chasing, pedophilia, aging up underage characters with no canon timeskip, many more to come.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀these might change during some time.

— ꒰ ◟ .𖥔 ˖ DO NOT INTERACT basic dni criteria, i don't want any bad people with negative emotions in my blog. bitchy people, picky people, zionists, isr*el supporters, fatphobes, transphobes, homophobes, pedophiles, loli-cons, discord mods, porn bots, impatient people, spam likers, minors, barbs.

— ꒰ ◟ .𖥔 ˖ OTHER INFORMATION please understand that english is not my first language so u will see some spelling errors or grammar errors. do not be afraid to tell me about the mistakes that i've done, but say it politely bc i am sensitive for the most part.

the reader in the story does not have any specific race or ethnicity. the changes will come to only ur mind to imagine yourself with the character. the reader also doesn't have a specific personality as well, don't come to me in the comments and say some shit like, "oh, i don't say that irl." "the second hand embarrassment 😭😭" ur getting ur ass blocked for being picky. the only changes that the reader will have is if they have any accessories (ex. piercings, tattoos, glasses, clothing) and that's that. sometimes i will make the reader hispanic, meaning that there will he constant spanish phrases and brief cultural things included based on what kind of fic and who i'm writing for.

don't spam my inbox unless ur a moot, and literally talk to me abt anything. like u can say, "hey rosa i just took the fattest shit rn" and i'll giggle at it, "hey rosa i just got fucked hard by my gf w a strap on" great! wonderful! splendid! like i am literally not judgmental bc i will also say some shit in my blog that will make my mutuals concerned 😇

my writings will always b lowercase.

ASK ME TO BE MOOTS WITH U PLEASEEEE I WOULD KISS U ON THE LIPS.

ᡣ • . • 𐭩 ♡ step into the masterlist sweetheart !

#pls like if u read this.

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oonajaeadira · 3 years

Text

Long Fall Into Oblivion (Ezra x reader)

(header by sirtadcooper - check out the whole beautiful set here.)

Rating: Mature.

Pairing: Ezra (post-Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: Non-explicit sex. Some swears maybe (think there’s a f*ck in there somewhere, my GOODNESS). A lot of gooey, syrupy, soft fluffety fluff. Author attempts at writing Ezra dialogue. A lot of chewy prose.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m posting this, but here goes. I love Ezra. He is a man of questionable morality and an insufferable tongue and I really shouldn’t. But I really do. I just wanted to give him a try. I’ve softened him up here, putting a few years on him so maybe he’s fluffed up some since the events in the film. Also I just ignored the fade or assumed that aurelac mining was still happening because scarcity/demand. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to go exploring.

Summary: You take a job as an aurelac prospecting trainee and Ezra shows you the ropes. You’re gonna fall in love with him. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

________________

Bakhroma is one of the smallest gas giants in the sector, but as you stand on the surface of the Green Moon, it dominates the entire horizon, pulling your focus, threatening to engulf everything around it. You almost feel sorry for the lush moon as you walk through its undergrowth, so gentle and full of beauty, destined many years after you’re gone to give its life to her.

A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?

There’s a painful, sour ache in your heart as you walk back to the camp in twilight, watching the back of Ezra’s helmet bob along in front of you. You’d spent two days digging that claim only to find the weakest aurelac nest you’ve seen yet, only three viable nodes. You’d dug through one of them by accident and completely melted another like an incompetent fool. Kevva’s ass, you were such a disappointment. Three months in the Green and you still can’t cut a blister out properly. Not even once.

Ezra’s shoulders are wide and tense, his one hand splayed out as he walks, running over the tops of the tall ferns, catching one every now and then only to rip the top away, twirl it between his gloved fingers and toss it impatiently aside.

The other two members of your team headed out on a sling this morning, another two will be arriving in a few days. And you wonder if Ez regrets just not cutting his losses and leaving with them, or at least sending you back in exchange for another kip.

You think about shifting through the comm channels, hoping that he’s chattering away in one of them, switched without your knowledge, but it’s a lost cause. You can hear him breathing on the channel between you. It’s not often Ezra has nothing to say.

________________

You thought your father was leaving you an inheritance. It’s not the reason you took care of him through his illness, but you’d dropped everything to be back home with him through his final months. In a way, it was a blessing, a reason to quit the Dasha factory and the terrible working conditions there, come back home and focus on your dad, relive good memories, just spend time. The reconnection lifted your heart, but his death sank it low again. When you learned he had nothing to leave you but a small house and some old vehicles, you sold what you could and traded in the rest.

Then you had nothing. No family, no job, little savings, questionable future. It almost broke your spirit. But the last few months with your father rekindled your love of him as he told you about his years in the Fringe, mining and prospecting. And your heart had said, “what the hell, let’s try that.” So you listened.

It took some time to track down the right inroads, but you were able to find some ads for prospecting teams, in particular those who were willing to take on members in training for a re-distributed cut. With all provisions included--other than suit and gear, which your father’s inheritance neatly covered--it seemed like just as good of a deal as any, and an adventure to boot.

But the reality was, every team you met with was full of hardened men, and while you were not a soft Central woman, you also weren’t overly versed in weaponry and didn’t know if you could defend yourself out in the Fringe against attack if things got crusty.

You were just about ready to admit defeat when you walked into yet another conference bunker and found your match. The first thing you noticed was that he was standing when you arrived, waiting for you politely rather than manspread at the table. Second were his eyes. Deep, brown, and sad. Maybe sad was the wrong word, certainly it seemed by the lines in his face, possibly by the missing arm, that he’d seen enough sadness, but toward you, it read more as concern. You wouldn’t know it until later when he confessed his feelings about this first meeting, but he was worried you wouldn’t choose him. Ezra had a hell of a time hiring partners. He may have been one of the longest-working aurelac diggers out there, but young kippers saw his greying beard and seasoned diggers saw his lacking arm and they all tended to turn around and walk out before he even said hello. So he’d tried to put himself out there as a trainer, show that he had something more to offer.

It didn’t hurt his feelings when you admitted to him later that those qualities were exactly why you chose him. He seemed the opposite of threatening. And his eyes were bright when he smiled at you. With his thrumming baritone and his Fringe twang and his mixed deck of mosaic words, he had a way of speaking that felt like a fluffy blanket curling around you, your brain vibrating with comfort at every new monologue. He was eccentric and perhaps a little jarringly rough in his humor at times, but there was something about him that you trusted immediately, even though you’d come to learn later you probably shouldn’t have if you were being overly cautious.

Not that your judgement ever came to detriment. Not that he ever proved you wrong that way. Not when it came to you. But the man was dangerous when he had to be in a way you hadn’t initially picked up on.

________________

You hadn’t been out in the Green two weeks before you looked up from the bottom of a dig hole to see Ezra standing over you with a thrower.

“You get down and you stay down, understand?”

“Ez? What--”

“I said stay down! Do not make me waste words on mere repetition!” The fuzzy blanket of his voice replaced suddenly by a snarling, snapping brush wolf, a quick change hitting you like a slap in the ear.

There’d been pops and whizzes as shots rang through and you did as your trainer said, face down, the view of your visor giving you nothing but dirt. Your helmet was a chorus of quick breathing from both of you and sweat rolled down your neck as you begged the eyes of Kevva to look down upon your partner. When the crossfire faded, you’d heard Ezra stalk away. Then there were a couple more shots. Then more footsteps returning.

“You are permitted to stand, trinket. All is well as it can be for us. But not so much for our dearly departed friends.” These words were as soothing as much as his previous ones had burned, and he simply went back to working at the dig at hand as if he’d just come back from taking a leak. It wasn’t until you left the site that evening that you tramped past two rotting raiders, gaudily outfitted with broken face shields, left to let the Green take them.

Ezra whistled as he stepped over them, stopping only to harvest their filters and munition rods, which he tossed your way to stow in your pack, and then continued lazily down the path toward camp. Just another day on the job.

He may be a little peculiar and not someone to trifle with, he may have just killed two people without remorse or further comment, but his lack of reassuring words told you that this was just part of the deal. You wear the suit, you use the air scrubber in the tent, you follow the landing pod instructions as written, and you defend yourself against those who wish to harm you. Survival by any and all means is paramount, mundane, and something he has no qualms with on any level.

There was something deep down inside of you that instinctually pulled you to follow him, not just down the literal path before you, but whatever path Ezra chose to wander.

________________

Before you’d left the station with him, he’d taken you to a thrower range to gauge your skill which was decent in theory, but dismal compared with what he could do. No matter, he still patiently taught you how to properly clean and charge a weapon and the best way to breathe and pull the trigger; “like you’re taking hold of a man’s...well... Just go easy and firm.” He suggested you should come and practice every day before lift off and then hope to Kevva that you didn’t have to rely too heavily on it.

“If I find myself in a coffin of my own suit, then feel free to defend yourself as a final means of preservation. Otherwise, when it comes down to shots fired, best to let me do the dirty work. Might as well keep the blood where the blood has been.”

You’d been a little nervous about sharing a freighter pod alone with him, but Ezra was...well, not so much a gentleman as just a comfortable soul.

He always waited until you were hungry to eat, thinking it rude to eat alone in front of you. He never moved around the pod while you were sleeping, content to keep still with a book in his cot. And if you couldn’t sleep, he was always willing to read to you from whatever impossibly dense old world classic he was digging through for the umpteenth time, letting his voice come up from the deeps and pull you gently under. If you asked permission to turn on the radio, he’d ask you “why Isn’t it on yet, woman,” quietly tolerating your taste in harsh and gleeful babblecore pshcyopop. In the later days of the journey, he’d even come to dance with you from time to time, although both of you were dismal at it and ended up with you in a fit of giggles. It was a sure-fire way to cure a case of the pouts you carried through from the morning fitness sessions when he beat you at pushups. Again.

When it came to privacy in the tight space, he had a habit of turning away without having to be asked or stopping his stream of talk when you went to change clothes, just happily chattering away until you called the all clear. Although he was not squeamish about his own state of undress, should you happen to catch it by accident. While he was respectful of your privacy, he seemed to need none of his own, but neither did he flaunt anything. You might look up from studying the flight manual to notice he was changing into a fresh pair of compression pants, tugging them on haphazardly with one hand, more concerned with telling you the overwhelmingly disgusting manufacturing process of Bits Bars than his own ass hanging out where you might see it. At least he always changed facing away from you which was a kindness.

Until it wasn’t.

After you realized you’d fallen quietly in love with him--a sudden, soft moment on the Green--then you’d admit only privately to yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally saw a little more than the occasional shirtless attire he might wear around the tent.

But in the pod, the only part of him that had caught your curiosity was his stump, and you’d known Ezra intensely enough over the past couple of weeks where you knew he wouldn’t take offense. Especially if you asked him the right way.

“Will you tell me a story, Ezra?”

“I feel that it is my duty to do so whether you ask me to or not. Shall I choose, or is there something in particular you would like to hear?”

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against his cot, going through his kit, cleaning his gear. You waited until he noticed your lack of answer and looked up to meet your eyes. When he saw that you had put your manual down and were focusing all your quiet attention on him, he stopped his busy work.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute. When he knows you seriously need something from him, that becomes his immediate main priority and all else can wait. It’s only gotten more intense since that day, but there is a trust that resides between you when you look into his eyes, gathering your words as he waits patiently every time to hear whatever you’re going to request of him. There’s always hope there in his big browns, always something specific he’s waiting for you to ask, and every day you get a little bit closer to understanding what it might be. But until then, any question is a welcome one, any query is met with his wish to provide.

“Will you tell me how you lost your arm?”

At first you thought you may have gone too far, that maybe you insulted him, as his eyebrows peaked together and he looked down at his hand. But then, “That is a tale that may cause you some consternation, trinket. The Green is dangerous and unforgiving, and there were times I may not have been a man worthy of fair opinion.”

“My father was a prospector, you know. I’ve heard stories. Have you ever killed anyone?”

He clicked his tongue and screwed up an eye, causing the thin white scar on his cheek to twist. Then he sighed and returned to your locked gaze. “To be honest, I have. Though I have never done so with pleasure, I have killed in defense and out of desperation, and it was out of dispatching a man in this way that I came to lose the second favorite of all my appendages.”

“Second favorite?”

“Well, it depends what you classify as a limb.” He huffed a small laugh, a spark in his eye, trying to diffuse the harsh subject in his own way.

His leaning into baseness never bothered you. There was something earthy about it, gritty and rough, but never lewd. You rewarded his crassness with a smile. “Do you plan on killing me out in the Green?”

“I would hope my murdering days are behind me, and if they are not, you would see me aim a thrower at everyone but you in the course of my spree. You are under my tutelage, and for that, I owe you a duty of care. That is my word by Kevva.”

“Then tell me the story. I like your stories. I promise not to judge now-Ezra by then-Ezra.”

A dimple formed on his cheek, a punctuation mark framing the approaching anecdote on his lips. “Then I will declare myself absolved of any sin heretofore and regale you with a clean and grateful heart.”

________________

You can see the tent through the trees and you realize with some horror that it’s just you and Ezra for the next few nights. If he’s angry with you, and this is how he is when he’s upset, the silence will be unbearable.

Even that little girl he helped out here years ago was probably more capable than you. You feel so lost in this moment, and it’s only made worse by his silence. You fumble with your communicator and hit the mute just in time to choke on a sob.

This isn’t like you. You’re not one to cry when things get rough. You hardly shed a tear when your father died. But the thought of that just brings another sob and as acting as your own psychologist you realize that you are experiencing some displaced sorrow, the odd need to please the leading male in your life, the one that’s walking ahead of you, away from you. If he’d just turn around and throw you his worn weary smile, if he’d just start up a conversation you’d know that there was hope for you, you’d know you didn’t give up everything to be here in a job you couldn’t hack.

You gotta stop this. Or it’s going to be an uncomfortable night.

Shake it off.

Once you enter the tent, the usual dance happens. Ezra reaches up to turn on the air scrubber and you unhook his filter tube from his helmet. When he turns to you, you pull open the zipper cover on his suit and start his zip for him before lifting his helmet up and off. He can pull the zip the rest of the way, but you generally pull the left collar down for him so he can get his arm out. He’s on his own from there as you turn to fuss with your own gear.

________________

You remember it starting easily enough. He was telling you a story about the breeding habits of the Tokovian Musk Owl and you could see he was having trouble with his suit zipper, yanking at it and trying to look down at it even though it was under his chin and his helmet. Without another hand to keep the fabric taut, the zip didn’t want to release, so you simply batted his hand away and started it for him. He didn’t even stop his yammering, just threw in a “thank you” somewhere in between “could hear them screeching” and “for a fuck.” He’d right out asked you the day before if you wouldn’t mind disengaging the filter tube just because it was delicate and he didn’t want to mangle the expensive part trying to pop it out one-handed day after day. And while he could manage the helmet fine enough, his prominent nose thanked you for a smoother removal for sure.

It wasn’t the only routine dance you’d concocted.

There was the harness dance.

While dig days were excruciating, you always looked forward to helping him attach the harness for his prosthesis--a kind of rigid pole attached to a shovel so you didn’t have to do all the hard digging alone. There were a couple of straps that came around his torso with multiple latches and you’d come to really enjoy wrapping your arms around him to fit the straps on. Sure, you could do the job just as easily from behind, but if you embraced him at the front, he’d usually raise his arm and let it come to rest around your shoulders while you worked. If you let yourself dream, it would be easy to imagine that he might be pressing you into him just a little bit.

And there was the harvesting dance.

On a dig, you were the one to mix the fazer and Ezra did the pour. He fished the sack, you cut the cord. You sliced the outer casing and held it open while he did the extraction. And with the flesh-covered stone, he told you every time to “hold it like you love it” so he could cut away the slippery blister before cleaning the gemstone.

It was a beautiful harmony. And the only way it worked. Because once on every dig he urged you to do a solo extraction, and on every dig, you pierced the blister and lost that stone. And on every dig, he squeezed your shoulder and told you it was a wondrous try, that he was proud of you, and there would always be another turn. There was no sarcasm, no pity, just a warm smile and ceaseless optimism even though you just lost both of you thousands in pay.

These were the first touches, these shoulder squeezes that ran down your arm on the let-go. Sometimes he would just reach out and grab onto you like a pole to help himself up, or he might stumble off balance on uneven ground and without the counterweight of his right arm he’d throw his hand out onto you to steady himself. He wasn’t beyond lightly touching the small of your back to encourage you down a path or to take your next try at a gem pull.

This was all part of something you’ve secretly named the left-handed-lover’s dance. Basically, that you keep on his left whenever you can in case he needs your help or has the inclination to reach for you. It started out as just trying to be a good partner. Then it became a passing hope that it was more than just a friendly bond. But you were both here to do a job. He was here to teach you to be an independent prospector and you were here to assist and learn. That was evident at the end of the day; once you were both in the tent and out of the suits he never touched you, never so much as bumped into you or grazed your hand in passing an item or clapped you on the arm after a good joke.

But out in the field all zipped in and helmets on, there was nothing more natural than his gentle hand guiding you or reaching for your assistance, including the day you realized you loved him.

________________

Before you can turn away to strip off your own coverings, Ezra catches your arm, spinning your face into the light. You try to shake him off, not wanting him to catch your eyes puffy from crying and your cheeks still streaked with tears, but his grip is not so gentle now and he yanks you back around to his stormy glare, chin up, brows low. His intensity paralyzes you, rendering you unable to continue your struggle when he catches your eyes with his.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute.

His gaze travels back and forth between your eyes, waiting for an explanation, a minute so stringent it breaks you down, dissolves you into the tears you’d tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I really am trying... I don’t know why I’m such a scuffer at this and I know it would only be right to release you from the contract and tell you to send me back but I don’t want you to, I really wanna stay, I really wanna learn and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your words have an immediate effect, softening him, pulling his glare into concern and wonder, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in surprise.

“This is the reason for your heavy mood? You think I am provoked by your proficiency in the field?”

“I crusted up good today and it seems like you’re not happy about it. Just...know that it means so much to me that...I don’t wanna let you down.”

“Oh, trinket, no.” An incredulous huff jumps out of him and his grip on your arm loosens, becomes a splayed warm support behind your shoulder, moving in soothing patterns and you’re instantly relieved that your assumptions were wrong. “You have done no harm in my book. It is not an easy thing to deliver a gem of this ilk into the world unscathed. Your opportunities have been few and scattered and it takes many sticks before a lover becomes a lothario.” He knows the crass humor will make you laugh, knows what to say to lighten your heart, to get you to soften, and bring you into his intimate, conspiratorial mood. “To be perfectly honest, I am selfish to an unrighteous degree, for every gem you burn keeps me in value to you. A worthy sacrifice to guarantee you mightn’t be so quick in your need to fly away from me until your training’s complete.”

This causes a hitch in your breath as you see the welcome turn the conversation he’s taking and you follow the path he’s making for you. “I don’t want to leave you, Ez.”

A smile creeps up one side of his mouth. “Well then I am a happy man. A bargain is struck! Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

A moment hangs between you as he rubs his thumb in slow circles on your shoulder. There’s that look in his eye again, the one where he’s waiting for you to ask the question he wants to hear from you. So close now.

Still, you’re unsure. “I guess I’m lucky I found the one person who wants an incompetent partner.”

“No, I do not, nor is it what I have and I must express my objection to your self-debasement. This work is not for the shiny, and you have not once complained about taking on the meat of the digging or the crawl of my schedule.” His hand comes to your helmet shield and he rakes his thumb across it as if he ached to wipe away one of your staleing tears. “Those bright eyes of yours got a penchant for spotting deposits more skillfully than I could ever manage and that’s not something that can be taught; that’s talent, girl. The blistering?” He shrugs. “Even I can’t manage that without the steady help of your fine hands. You may think that your blunders in education are causing us some financial ruin, but our fortunes are creamy. I assure you, we can afford it.”

That look is still there. He’s waiting. “There’s some ‘us’ and ‘we’ in there, Ez.” Your hands drift to his sides, taking fistfuls of his compression suit top, willing him closer.

The edges of his eyes take on the crinkle you’ve come to find so much comfort in. “So there is.”

You’re almost there. You know what he wants. “Why were you so quiet on the walk back?”

“Because for the next few days we are alone here and I have a mind full of questions I do not know how to ask you.”

“Then let me go first.” A yearning happiness settles in his brown eyes; finally. Finally you’ve found out what it is he needs you to request of him. “If I take this helmet off, are you going to kiss me, Ez?”

His eyes close in contentment and he nods, “Yes. Yes, little jewel. Yes I am, that and more. I hope I have inferred correctly that it is your wish that I do so, because I am in free fall. I feel my orbit ending and my pull to you is complete.”

_______________

“A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?”

Speculating days were some of your favorite times, just wading through the brush and looking for the telltale signs and shoots of an underlying deposit. Sometimes you came upon nests of strange groundling insects or flowers that only grew in secret. There were treasures underfoot on this poisonous moon, but if you remembered to look up as well, you might find some dangerous beauties there too.

On that day--the one where you finally understood your heart--you’d looked up to find that you were on a cliffside overlooking a valley, the canopy a million different hues of green, the gas giant looming over half the sky in a big pink and orange semi-circle. There was a fallen log that served as a perfect seat for the perfect view and you knew Ezra wouldn’t mind if you stole a few moments to sit and to take it in. It’s just the kind of thing he’d appreciate. And you were proven right when he came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he swung one leg then the other over the log, finding a perch next to you, spouting pretty words through the channel link--soft and low--about moons and orbits and obilvions.

“That glowing beauty is Bakhroma. She is quiet and fierce, made up of the unfathomable and the unknowable, always within sight, but out of reach and untouchable unless one would trade the honor with great sacrifice. She reflects the light that is given to her with a patience that is heretofore untold. And the Green Moon upon which we ride follows where she goes like a lovesick fool, spinning around her in a heady kind of adoration, full of secret treasures buried deep down that will ultimately one day belong to her, falling incrementally over eons until he finally loses himself in her, all his glories gladly forfeit to her welcome and inevitable embrace. Alone but together, seemingly eternal, pulled as one by the laws of a mysterious universe.”

The void that came after those words was filled with the beating of your heart, and you were sure he could hear it through the channel.

When he’d landed there beside you, you’d registered how his hand slid off your shoulder, diagonally down across your back, coming to rest at your waist, his arm draped lightly around you. Natural. Easy. Everything was warm--the colors of the sky, the care with which he kept you close as if to better hear the honey sweetness in his prose, the fire burning in your lungs and neck.

Ezra probably didn’t know that you spoke a little Vayok.

Bakh being the Vayok word for adornment. Ornament, Gem. Roma was a modifier, a diminutive. Small. Dear.

Bakhroma. Sentimental bauble. A little jewel.

In other words, a trinket.

All you wanted to do was sit down to take in the view of an entire world for a few moments, but by the time Ezra took your hand and helped you to your feet, all you saw was him.

________________

The helmet is barely off before his lips are sealed to yours in a press of greed. Even if he can’t form words when he kisses you, he can’t help but express his deep relief in a heartbreaking moan. It’s a fight to release yourself from the suit when he keeps pulling you against him and every time you try to get some space between you to work the zipper, he chuckles into your mouth, enjoying the tease and the struggle. It’s simultaneously frustrating and thrilling and you give in for a few moments just to give him what he seems to want so desperately right now.

Ezra kisses like a man starved for air, long, hard, and full of need, peeling his lips away only to come back for another breath of you until his initial want is slaked and he slows, allows for more time between his taking, his mouth starting to mumble against yours, praising you with pet names, telling you how perfect you are to him, how long he’s “fought against my more dubious natures to respect your womanly virtues and take them only when you could see in me a man worth bestowing them on.”

You’re able to use his weakness for monologuing to turn around in his vice-like embrace, finally freeing yourself of the suit and he takes the opportunity to drawl more pretty words in your ear, warning you that “I’m afraid I have been enamored of you overly long and may be extra eager in my attentions. So you just say the word if you need a slow down, gentle one, and I will do my best to comply. Although I will admit it will be a difficult endeavor indeed as I feel I am entering your atmosphere and nothing might quell this burn but finding some drowning place to land.”

Your first impression of him was of a man whose age and temperament and body would not be able to overpower you.

Your first impression was wrong.

Of course, it helps that you are willing.

It doesn’t take long for him to strip you down, and then himself. To kiss you down onto the floor. To find exactly where you like to be touched most and how long it takes for you to break from it. He has so many words for you, so many praises to sing about every part of you that is round or soft or wet, comparing you to things that are sweet and plush or celestial and holy. And when you take his favorite limb in hand--as wondrous as the rest of his body--and guide it to its fit, he plunders and harvests all you have to give him, filing you with himself, for as long as you call for it, as long as you let him. He loves you like he speaks to you: rough and drawn out, full of beautiful tangents and meandering plotlines, but in the end it is beautiful and fulfilling; you may be just a little bit confused how you got to the ending, but you’re completely in awe.

When you lay breathing heavy, staring but not seeing the ceiling of the tent, your consciousness seemingly lifted to see through it to the stars, to the glowing face of Bakhroma, you run hands through rough-chopped hair on a head laying on your chest. He’s listening to your heartbeat, waiting for it to slow down so he can start again. The air is thick--even the air scrubber can’t keep up with all your humidity--and there’s a halo around each bulb of the string lights just barely illuminating the darkness.

“How long, Ez?”

“Hm?”

“How long have you been waiting for that.”

“Most likely since the day you walked into my interview. I am a man of simple wants and you had all the right parts for my preferences.”

“For real, Ez.”

He tipped his head up to find you. “What you ask has many true answers, and I stand by the first. I have no qualms telling you of my weakness for a pretty succulence and a kind smile the likes of which you possess. But if you are asking when I knew I would have it, well, that may have been the first day you danced. Or when you asked me to read you to sleep. Or when I understood I wouldn’t let those bastard raiders get near enough to take their turn at your qualities when I had not had them myself. Or when you finally saw me as a viable person to drape your affections on; maybe it was that day too.”

“When I finally saw you as....”

“I have read many tomes and verses but none so full of beautiful passages as your face that day on the cliff. There is a difference of knowing and being. I knew the feel of your pull that day, but found I’d been in orbit all along.”

How he can live this way, twist everything into a tossed away poem...it should be exhausting. Yet you feed off it. You breathe it like air.

After another long cycle of frenzied entanglement and violent euphoria, you ask Ezra if he’d like to move to a cot, maybe get some sleep. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk to the dig tomorrow morning,” you confess.

“No need to worry about tomorrow,” he says, wapping his arm around you and dragging you back to him, grumbling into your ear. “We are the only prospectors in this sector and the aurelac will wait. Until our new compatriots arrive, we are officially on hiatus. Recreational mining only. Restricted to the confines of this tent. By order of your supervisor. In the interest of more precious treasures. And I intend to strike it rich.”

“Well. I’m here to assist. And learn.”

“When it comes to this dig, trinket, you are more than competent. I am no longer your trainer. Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

The new contract is struck, signed and sealed in kissing and in touch and a long, slow fall into inevitable oblivion.

#ezra x reader #ezra/reader #ezra prospect #prospect fanfic #prospect fanfiction #pedro pascal #soft #soft ezra

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memorydragon · 2 years

Text

It wasn't a dream, it turned out. Either Lan Xichen had just woken up from a decade long nightmare, or he was suddenly and inexplicably in the past. He wasn't sure which theory he preferred.

If he was cursed, there was no one he knew who could have done it. He'd been in seclusion for months, only seeing his brother or uncle on occasion. Wangji's husband was the only one who might have managed such a feat, and despite Lan Xichen losing his temper at the Guanyin temple, Wei Wuxian hadn't seemed to harbor ill-will towards him. But here he was, in the Cloud Recesses before it burned down, not allowed anything remotely sharp in his rooms (sword included), with both his brother and Uncle hovering constantly after his breakdown. Whenever he tried to speak of the coming war or other things from the future, they looked at him like his wits had been lost on a nighthunt.

So since I’m typing this monstrosity up before continuing writing, I thought I’d post little tidbits as I get to them? It’s been a while since I’ve actually posted anything, so like... we’ll see how it goes. I’m pretty sure no one is actually following me for potential Mo Dao Zu Shi fic, but hey.

Anyway, I might actually use bits of this part for a summary if/when I ever actually post anything. Spoiler alert 1: He’s suddenly and inexplicably in the past. Spoiler alert 2: It’s most definitely his brother-in-law’s fault. Really, who else has a ton of good intentions and history of those good intentions blowing up in everyone’s faces?

I’ll probably be tagging this Time Traveled and Traumatized (not an actual title for the fic, but very apt for a working title, I thought), so if you want to block, that’s the tag to go for. It features Lan Xichen being Even More Traumatized so that he can get the Most Hugs and Gusu Trauma parties galore. It’s also currently written to 89 pages in my notebook and only just now finishing the Cloud Recesses arc. Yeah, it’s gonna kill me. But damn it, the scene I want to write is at the end, so here I go.

A general note: I’ve lived in China for years now, but I’m still a foreigner who will get things wrong. Please do let me know if I do end up fucking up culturally, because it’s certainly not intentional.

Second note: Lan Xichen is ace. It’s my fic and that’s how I’ve decided to roll. You don’t like it, please block the tag. Though if you’re follow me and you don’t like ace fics, that’s probably on you by this point.

Also, I think I’m going for a very, very different Lan Xichen then a lot of fandom seems to write. Mostly going to be a Frankencanon of the novel and donghua, with a few details of other canons thrown in based on personal preference (example: I love a tiny, fierce Wen Qing from the live action, just because). Don’t expect regular updates on this, as I’ll just be posting as I’m typing and will eventually go back to Writing Mode which is writing by hand. I also won’t post any actual chapters until I’ve completed the whole damned thing, because that’s how I roll.

This is mostly just something new I thought I’d try. Is it promoting? Is it just me sharing bits to keep my sanity? Will it Ever actually be finished? Your guess is as good as mine. But enjoy?

#mo dao zu shi #Time Traveled and Traumatized #Mem's fic #Lan Xichen is straight up not having a good time being a teenager again #Especially not since he has to go through the war a second time #obviously wangxian is going to be a ship #Lan Xichen did consider hiding his brother away so that they'd never meet for a few moments #But really he knows that Wei Wuxian is Actually Good for his little brother so long as he's not self destructing #So now he's gotta figure out how to stop that #There will also be some 3zun mentions but that one is Complicated af #Sworn Siblings is gonna go different this time #Also I'm not sure how this happened but Lan Xichen became a Disney Princess?#whoops #He's also very much a Romantic capital R who nearly kills himself because he to be Lonely under the moon and play music #without any protection from the elements #which even though he's a cultivator he still kinda needs #Also rather than lie he pretty much tells everyone straight up he's from the future.#He's Cassandra'ed himself quite badly but lying is prohibited and he sucks at lying anyway #So the truth #This is so self-indulgent it's ridiculous ngl

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neonnoir-ao3 · 3 years

Text

Some Words of Comfort.

Recently, I’ve seen a lot of people (especially those who have read spoilers/are actively searching for leaked content) lament about their future reactions to the deaths of our beloved characters in-game.

We all knew this was inevitable, and that them living was not an option for the plot of the game, but the time has finally come to face it head-on.

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I understand that someone outside this community might be like “it’s just a game”, but I know it’s way more than that to many: the concept of a female villain that, to many, can be seen as sympathizable and even endearing, is a bit of a new concept— especially on such a large scale as this instance.

In addition, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters have become a bit of a comfort item for some (with an emphasis on sapphics/wlw, from what I’ve seen personally) in the form of a large, protective, and caring hypothetical partner, or even just a maternal character one can appreciate simply because of her love for her children. Regardless, most of us are here due to some desire for comfort.

Take my own story with this community, for example:

(tws for death, covid, suicide, and general medical emergencies)

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Frankly, 2020 and the beginning of 2021 have ruined me. I lost two men who were the only two positive father figures I’ve ever had. The last of the two tested positive for covid and deteriorated within days, to the point where less than a week after testing positive, my family was making the choice to pull the plug. This all occurred days before Christmas and my birthday. On the first day of the spring semester, having not had the time to properly mourn my grandfather, my mother is in the ER for multiple days with an internal infection that doctors said likely would have turned septic if she had waited to come in any longer. This led to three surgeries throughout the next few months. (Oh, and one of my relatives quite literally dropped dead on that first day of class, too). I am also estranged from one of my parents, and they have been trying to contact my family: they have multiple untreated mental illnesses (severe NPD, bipolar, and more) and they are extremely aggressive in that state of mind and they are agitated extremely easily. That only brings more stress, along with resurfacing trauma and related emotions. Every moment of every day has been a struggle. So much so that I failed half of my classes voluntarily simply because I couldn't do them anymore.

To be perfectly honest with you, I didn’t expect to be here right now. I expected that the pain of simply moving forward would have finally overridden my fears of death and that I would have already ended my suffering by now.

Then, in late January, I saw something trending on Twitter. About a new female villain in an upcoming horror game. And it went from there.

As cheesy as it sounds, this fandom and its content seriously saved my life. In the darkest of days, I’ve come to this tag for comfort. The oddest way I found said comfort was through those who were attracted to Alcina aesthetically. I have extremely long-term trauma related to being bullied and being the victim of a hybrid catfishing/'Oreo Game' on early social media by peers in middle school to the point where I do not think of myself as being able to be loved, let alone being worthy of it. Finding this community not only provided a great form of escapism (and opened a door into a fantasy world where I could imagine my own person vampire milf gf), but also gained a little bit of self-esteem (as many of you know, I share a lot of visual qualities with Alcina. -yes, I'm still kinda freaked out about it-) via seeing people where features/attributes like mine were actively praised and desired rather than insulted and pushed away like they have been until now.

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(okay sorry that kinda turned into a trauma dump but I needed to emphasize the fact that this community has seriously helped me during a really dark point in my life, and I know I can't be the only one with that sort of experience)

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What I’m trying to get across here is that, like many others, this community and its content have been comforting and therapeutic, and it really is more than just a game to us. It’s entertaining and even a form of escapism in these extremely trying times. We all have some degree of PTSD from surviving a literal mass plague— and this is something we're using as a method of coping. a distraction. a coping mechanism.

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

With that being said, here are some ways to hopefully assist in lessening the emotional stress:

(please note that I am not a mental health professional and these may not be healthy coping mechanisms for everyone.)

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Understand that it’s just a game.

I know, this sounds completely counterintuitive, but it’s more or less about keeping your level of immersion down. Personally, I can’t do scary shit in general: I have to listen to music on low volume while watching dark ARG vids at night or when I’m alone because I get too into it, and then my paranoia kicks in. Sometimes just pausing for a moment and grounding yourself/reminding yourself that this is a video game: a jumble of code and 3D rendering that doesn’t have to affect your views/headcanons if you don’t want it to. Did your favorite character just get slaughtered? Nope, that 3D rendering of them just got un-alived, that’s all.

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Ignorance is Bliss/We are the Captain Now

Simple: Capcom can’t even pronounce Dimitrescu right, or even acknowledge the way it’s correctly said in Romanian culture itself. How can you trust them to give you a perfect canon? That’s the thing: with that logic, you can’t. What they say is true means little (if anything, for that matter) to your headcanons and preexisting ideas of the Dimitrescus. In short: fuck ‘em.

I’m currently seeking a double major in pop culture, and one of the cool things I’ve learned so far is affirmational vs transformational fandom. Affirmational is where official canon is seen as the law of the land, and followed to a T. Transformational is seen as much more inviting for audiences, allowing them to bend canon as they wish to fit their own creations. This fandom is obviously transformational, so take that game canon, rip it up, and get back to whatever you were doing.

Capcom’s canon is not the end-all, be-all. Far from it, actually.

Want to still acknowledge canon? Godmod your way out of it.

Character A died? It’d be a shame if they emerged from the rubble they 'died in' a few hours later, very beaten but alive nonetheless... how awful would it be if they sulked away, nursed their wounds, and continued to live... (/s)

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Ignore it completely.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there w be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the in any way. Stay with the version in your head that makes you happy.

Get Creative!

If you're into creating fanart, writing fics, or even just posting a list of headcanons, take some advice from the late Carrie Fisher: "Take your broken heart, and make it into art". Make the fluff oneshot of your dreams! Draw the fanart you've been wanting to! dump lighthearted headcanons into the tags! Not only will it cheer you up, but sharing it with the community will spread the love!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

I know a lot of people are struggling with this emotionally (especially with the pandemic making entertainment like this even more important sources of escapism and coping mechanisms) and I hope that, at the very least, I was able to help comfort one person who reads this.

Remember: give it time. Once the game drops, there will be a wave of grief, but eventually, we as a community will recover, and get back to business as usual. Think about it like the flowers that bloom after major wildfires: after a period of loss, some beautiful can still come of it.

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💙

#tall vampire lady #lady alcina #lady dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #castle dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #dimitrescu daughters #dimitrescu family #dimitrescu sisters #cassandra dimitrescu #countess dimitrescu #house dimitrescu #resident evil #re: village #resident evil village #resident evil: village

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alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer · 3 years

Text

champagne problems (part 1)

here's my first part of my modern no magic "champagne problems" singer-songwriter quarantine thomastair AU! happy birthday to @foxglove-airmid even though I don't think it's your birthday where you live anymore (and I still haven't posted zia's birthday fic, it'll happen I swear)!

no content warnings for this part (besides maybe quarantine), but future parts will include discussions of mental illness, substance abuse, and a suicide attempt

obviously, the song alastair "wrote" in the fic is not mine, it's by taylor swift! and a few of the lyrics have been changed!

Masterlist | AO3

Thomas breathed out a sigh of relief as he lugged his suitcase up onto the fifth floor landing.

“‘Ere we are,” Piers announced as he unlocked the door.

Thomas was utterly exhausted, such was the result of taking a redeye flight across the Atlantic during a global pandemic, but any idea of rest that he’d had was interrupted when he heard the sound of piano flood the apartment.

“Ah, sorry about that,” Piers nodded, “One of my flatmates, the walls are paper thin. He can’t record at the studio right now, but he’s trying to finish his EP, so it’s been a bit noisier around here. He’ll take a break soon, hopefully.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s no problem. Thank you, again, for allowing me to stay here. I’ll be looking for my own place as soon as the quarantine is up.”

“Of course. You’ve got the couch as long as you need it. Couldn’t just hang you out to dry, could I? Although, you did pick a god awful time to move to the city, if I do say so myself.”

Thomas sat down on the couch and tried to make himself comfortable. It was more comfortable than the flight or the airport, at least. “I know… I considered postponing the move, but the visa was so difficult to get, I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. They say this will all blow over in a couple of weeks, but borders are closing and I heard talk of them suspending all pending visa applications. I didn't know how long it would be if I waited, if the job was even still here for me at all.” Although at first entrance, the music had seemed to be a nuisance, it now comforted him. It wasn’t bad at all, in fact, it quite reminded him of the days Alastair’s playing had filled their flat…

“Where did you say you were working again? At a record company?”

“Yeah. I’m just doing pretty basic stuff for now, but if I ever do want to record my own music, I’ve got to start somewhere.”

“Hm,” Piers said, gesturing to the room the music was coming from. “Perhaps you’ll get on with him well, then. Would you like some tea?”

Thomas nodded and Piers went to start the teapot. Piers continued, “Though I suppose he's more of the tortured artist type. Very reserved, quite prickly. I didn't even meet him until a couple weeks after I moved in here because he was off in some psychiatric hospital.” Thomas shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was never one for gossip. “My other roommate’s nice, though, I think you’ll like him. He-”

“How did you end up in New York, again? I don’t think I ever asked.”

Piers dove into the subject change quite readily, explaining his uni - or college - years in New York City and his decision to stay afterwards. Thomas had tuned most of it out, truthfully. It wasn’t that he was trying to be rude, but he was rather exhausted, and Piers was wearing thin on his patience.

As the kettle started to whine, Thomas heard the musician begin to sing, and he froze. It sounded so much like Alastair. But it couldn't be, could it? With over 8 million people living in the city, he would not end up in Alastair's apartment by accident. His Alastair was certainly reserved and prickly, but it wasn't possible. It must be like all those times he thought he saw him on a street he'd never walked or heard his laugh in a café he'd never been to. Just his mind, tricking him. Even if he knew that voice so well, despite not hearing it in so long.

“It’s quite good, isn’t it? His first single just dropped.” Piers asked, bringing over his cup of tea. He hadn’t realized it, but he’d been staring intently at the door.

Thomas took the cup. “Hm? Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

“You should look it up. It’s called “champagne problems” by Simurgh. That’s spelled- Well, it should come up.”

The name Simurgh sounded familiar, but Thomas couldn’t put his finger on where he knew it from. At Piers’ insistence, he pulled out his phone and brought up the song. As he skimmed through the first few lines, a cold feeling settled in his stomach.

“You booked the night train for a reason So you could sit there in this hurt Bustling crowds or silent sleepers You're not sure which is worse”

“Simurgh,” Thomas realized.

“Yeah, I think it’s Arabic or something.”

It took Thomas a moment to process that Piers was responding to him. “It’s Persian.” He was certain that Alastair would have some very stern words to say if he heard Piers confusing the two, actually. Thomas had admittedly let his Farsi skills deteriorate quite a bit since the breakup, but he was fairly certain the name came from the Shahnameh. There was no doubt in Thomas’ mind now: he was staying in Alastair’s apartment, and Alastair’s first single was about one of the most painful days in Thomas’ life. “I, er, I used to study it.”

“Oh, yes, that’s right!” Piers launched into a tangent that Thomas tuned out as he read through the rest of the page.

“Because I dropped your hand while dancing Left you out there standing Crestfallen on the landing Champagne problems”

“Thomas? Are you alright?”

He realized then that his hand was trembling so badly that his tea nearly spilled. He used his other hand to steady it. “Oh, uh, yes, I’m just tired.”

“Perhaps you should rest. I can ask Alastair to quiet down for a while-”

“No!” he exclaimed rather too forcefully. “No, that’s not necessary. I’d just rather not talk, if that’s alright.”

Piers nodded.

Thomas kept reading.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it Champagne problems”

Of all the songs, why did he release the one about him? Why was it about a memory still so painful in Thomas’ heart, all of these years later? He remembered it so well, standing there, alone, shattered into a million pieces.

“You told your family for a reason You couldn't keep it in Your sister splashed out on the bottle Now no one's celebrating”

He was fairly certain that Barbara had been more excited than even he was, confident that Alastair would accept, and so very proud of her baby brother, all grown up. She’d been furious when it fell apart, but it was her who stood with him during the aftermath, who boarded him onto a train to Edinburgh to visit Eugenia when he couldn’t stand to be in the same city as him any longer, who went through his phone, blocking all of Alastair’s accounts so that he could obsess over him no longer, who comforted him as he wept and held him as he picked the pieces of himself back up again.

And all the more sour was the memory in light of her death.

“Dom Pérignon, you brought it No crowd of friends applauded Your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems”

He looked up at Piers, who had fortunately become enthralled with something on his phone and was no longer paying Thomas any mind. He lifted the teacup gingerly to his lips, but he felt far too sick to take a drink.

“You had a speech, you're speechless Love slipped beyond your reaches And I couldn't give a reason Champagne problems”

A reason, that’s all Thomas had wanted. Just any explanation. He understood if they were moving too fast, or perhaps he’d misread something, but he just didn’t understand it.

Why? Why can’t you tell me why? I deserve an explanation, Alastair. Please, anything.

I… I’m sorry, Thomas.

Stop it! Stop apologizing! We can just go home and pretend this never happened, please, forget about all of it, it was a stupid idea-

Thomas, stop. I shouldn’t’ve… This was a mistake. I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner.

That was the moment Thomas felt his heart stop beating.

“Your Midas touch on the Chevy door November flush and your flannel cure "This dorm was once a madhouse" I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me" How evergreen, our group of friends Don't think we'll say that word again And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls That we once walked through”

Despite the nearly two decades Thomas had spent in London before Alastair, it was never the same without him. He saw him everywhere he went, despite knowing he was thousands of miles away. After graduating uni that May, he accepted a spot at a graduate program in Spain and didn’t look back.

“One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you "You’re the only one I want by my side, What a shame you’re fucked in the head," you said”

Those were the words that haunted Thomas’ nightmares, even now.

It’s you! It’s only you for me! It was always going to be you! But I can see now that I was never going to be enough for you, you and your secrets and walls and your lies. It’s a shame… it’s a shame you’re so fucked in the head, Alastair. You’ll never truly love anyone, will you? You’re not physically capable of it.

Alastair hadn’t responded. Thomas had wanted a rise out of him, any reaction at all, despite knowing how lethal and volatile Alastair could become when provoked. But there was nothing. Not a flicker of anything in his steeled expression. He’d simply looked down, apologized again for any pain that he’d caused, and left.

That was the last time they’d spoken.

Thomas and his sister left for Edinburgh that night, and when he’d returned to London, Alastair was gone.

“Well, you'll find the real thing instead Who'll patch up your tapestry that I shred And hold your hand while dancing Never leave you standing Crestfallen on the landing With champagne problems”

Thomas couldn’t imagine giving his heart to anyone again, not now and certainly not then. He’d dated in Madrid, but it had always stayed casual. He’d made sure of it. He could see now that he and Alastair had gotten together quickly, moved in together quickly, done all of it very quickly. After all, he’d fallen hard and fast. He gave all of himself to Alastair, and he’d nearly lost all of himself in the process.

“Your mom's ring in your pocket New picture in your wallet You won't remember all my Champagne problems

“You won't remember all my Champagne problems”

Now, he wondered what the rest of the story was. He’d convinced himself that Alastair had never loved him, that he was heartless and cruel, though he’d known that wasn’t true. Could Alastair have written this song if he’d never truly loved him? Perhaps he was a sociopath.

Thomas felt like he should run. Like he should pick up his bag and dart out of the apartment before Alastair could notice him, find some hotel somewhere with undoubtedly extraordinary high rates and just pretend like this never happened. He could get back on a plane and go back home to his parents and delete his phone browser history and pretend like this was all just a bad dream. But he could not move.

He didn’t know how many minutes had passed before Alastair’s door opened. He looked up with a start.

“Thomas,” Alastair breathed. He stood wide eyed, flushed.

“Do you two already know each other then?” Piers asked.

There was a moment of silence before Thomas cleared his throat. “We used to,” he said, looking down.

“I, er, I forgot that your friend was coming today,” Alastair told Piers. “It’s quite a long journey from London, you should have told me, I would have been quieter.”

Thomas considered correcting him for a moment, but decided not to. “Don’t worry about it. I heard you had your first big release. Congratulations.”

Alastair gave an awkward nod. “Thank you. Right, well, I’ll just…” He rushed over to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

“Don’t- It’s fine, really. In fact, I’m sure there’s some hotel in the area I can stay at for now, actually-”

“Well, don’t leave on my account,” Alastair interrupted. “We agreed to let you stay here, and the city’s a bloody mess right now. I’ll stay out of your hair, Thomas.”

Thomas only nodded as Alastair disappeared back behind his bedroom door.

Thanks for reading! Taglist (ask to be +/-): @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @zosiaenrique @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @jem-nasium @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @itsjusta-j-really

#alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #thomastair #tlh #the last hours #fanfic #fanfiction #champagne problems au

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feather-dancer · 3 years

Text

Tales of Arcadia Fanfic Recommendations - Part 6

I do admittedly have things left to read in my tabs I’d normally prefer to clear out before posting one of these but when you sail past the 30 mark I think it’s about time to get it out my drafts, yeah? Most importantly means this will be out before Rise of the Titans comes and emotionally destroys us all.

Needless to say soon as this is posted I give it 24 hours before 7 starts, we’ve got some amazing writers in this fandom and there’s a couple I juuust want one more chapter before I feel I can recommend it. Hope you find something you enjoy :)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

If at all interested in my own writing you can find it here!

General Trollhunters

Romeo, Question Mark - Jim is figuring himself out and has a question for Toby though nervous of how he might react. Honestly the support Aromantic’s need when they’re either questioning or coming out, Toby is a gem.

By The Book - After his dad left changing his world Jim had moments in his life where he needed to wrangle things in a way he could understand them with some moral support along the way that wasn’t there to do it for him, just give a light nudge the right direction. Comes with light Jilaire fluff.

That I Could Fear a Door - Jim was pulled from the Darklands whole but you cannot escape the trauma of your experiences quite so easily. It will take a little time, a lot of patience and perhaps the right ear to listen but with it can come hope.

Lest Back the Awful Door Should Spring - Sequel to the above, Jim’s capture to be sentenced by the tribunal echoes his experiences in the Darklands a little too closely sending all his careful progress hurtling back in one fell swoop. Is it any wonder he chose a false freedom that Unkar offered?

Façade - The confirmation that Mr. Strickler is not the man you thought he was probably was not going to be an easy one, Jim’s thoughts sit ill after that dinner.

Fashion - All changelings take root somewhere in a human life before their changeling one succeeds it and Nomura is no different. She felt love she could not understand and the ache of loss will follow for as she meanders through this world by the Whisper Man’s orders and her own volition of needing to belong somewhere. She will try her hand with the humans and the trolls, paint the road with blood as much as indulging herself with the arts and even risking her heart until everything leads her to Arcadia’s doorstep.

In Deep Trouble - What happened in the Deep during Season 2?

Aftermath - Just after the finale of Season 2 the Market trolls are forced to run leaving their homes behind and follow the Trollhunter they had dismissed so many times into the great unknown before them.

Don’t think - Jim weighs up his options and attempts to settle his thoughts before making the final decision whether or not to go through with using Merlin’s potion.

Nocturne for a Trollhunter - Jim learns a new hobby that gives him another way to relax that doesn’t involve cooking, one that follows him beyond Arcadia.

The Asteroid - A rare 3Below fic for my lists if centered on a certain hedge witch and Wizard. The end of the world is coming but not by Morgana’s hand and Merlin certainly never warned Douxie about it so if this truly is the end then it’s the best time to bring your loved ones close so you won’t be going out alone. Yes it’s Zouxie.

A bright future so it seemed (but that light grew a little less bright) - Claire’s parents (Or more specifically Ophelia) set her on the perfectionist’s path early, even a little slip can feel like the end of the world

Rest, Master Jim - You might be able to escape the Darklands but you cannot escape the consequences of being trapped there for so long as easily.

General Wizards

Not Found - So why did neither Douxie or Archie find the two remaining changelings in Arcadia or bring back the sole Akiridion when Merlin asked?

Place of Power - A lovely bit of shameless Zouxie fluff in that brief period the gang was at Hex Tech before the plot came to get them.

Bitter Water - Only two of the old team remain in Arcadia and those were Jim and Krel, the rest having left to pursue educational pursuits and in one particular case kept away for Nari’s safety. For the Akiridion he is still here with reminders of his heritage and what it took to have this life on earth chasing him all the way. It’s always good to have friends with a listening ear and hot chocolate.

Together, Dearest - The very act of resting is a potential invitation for nightmares and Nari is no different but when once more in the waking world you will find you’re not alone, there are hugs available.

The Night Belongs To Us - Lovingly described Skraelroc fluff during their long hunt for Merlin and the strangeness that can be observed on clearer nights.

Nineteen Plus Nine Hundred, Give Or Take - 900 years is a long time by anyone’s standards but perhaps during that Douxie can figure out how to truly live.

Twelfth Century Wizard, Twenty-First Century Witch - The follow up to the above, when you’ve lived a long and interesting life things can still pop up in odd ways... Even if you haven’t quite mastered the sacred art of texting yet.

ERAS TÚ (It was you). | Tales of Arcadia One-Shot - Would you want to live forever if it meant leaving everyone behind? Jilaire.

the only way for us to go - From his rescue from the streets of Camelot to the eventual guardian of this realm, Douxie has come a very, very long way. Through the frustrations of trying to learn magic, the belittling of others, the faith of Morgana and the power of music his experiences throughout 900 years truly make him what he is.

lay down your head - Even the mightiest can be plagued with the not so humble migraine. Skraelroc fluff.

Stricklake

Merry Christmas, Doctor Lake - Some Christmas gifts are worth going all out for and getting your friends and family to help out to make it extra special.

Grocery Run - After the incident where Merlin dismissed Strickler for being a changeling it is time for an excuse to get out the house for a bit and have a frank discussion about their relationship, the future beyond the incoming battle and lingering insecurities of two worlds colliding.

Alternate Universe

Fashionista, How Do You Look? - An AU that very much takes the term very literally here where everyone is human, Skrael, Bellroc and Nari are fashion designers plus many other ToA characters we know and love are either in the industry in some way themselves or on the fringes because of their jobs/who they know. Sometimes you work with catty bitches and want to kick back and watch the fireworks you know? Contains friends to almost to enemies to friends to maybe we’ll get our shit together this time but the odds aren’t great Skraelroc. There’s also a Zouxie oneshot in this collection that was a gift for meee because of the corner I dug in the AU.

Atlas, Fallen - When a star falls from the sky it is a punishment so when Atlas suddenly finds himself amongst the humans he had observed from above for countless ages in a flesh body like theirs he fears his Mother is punishing him and unable understand what he did wrong. While trying to find his way back home he gets a crash course in what it’s like to be human making friends along the way. Slow burn Jilaire.

she once was a true love of mine - I put this under the AU section even though it wavers between that and not, a mixture of classical Arthurian mythos and the glimpses of the Camelot in Tales of Arcadia where one kingdom collapses from war another strengthens by taking their princess as queen. While Arthur might have turned her head once it is the sibling that seems to be catching Gwen’s eye of late as much as her thoughts. Morgwen but in the department of pining.

Pulled From The Ocean - AU doesn’t quite fit this one but it feels a bit more fitting than general. A little oneshot snapshot of Jim living with deafness and the contrast of one world that falls easily into supporting that whereas the other tries their best but it makes the slip ups sting even more.

you are a stranger here, why have you come? - Fate is a funny old thing, something happens a little bit differently such as a father not leaving alone and everything can change so drastically. Nari’s fondness for children strikes again and this time it involves a 5-year old Jim Lake Jr. ending in the Order’s care and their foray into found family. Somehow Jim is even more of a disaster and as likely surmised from the fact I write this trope myself I am very weak for it.

go into your local forest and you will find a friend and a boy - Toby was unlucky in the friend department and by the time he is ten he still feels miserable and lonely having to endure Steve’s increasing bullying all the while. This is of course until he finds a blue half-troll hiding out the daylight hours munching cans in the local woods...

#trollhunters #3below #Wizards #ToAWizards #Tales of Arcadia

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

💫Moreid Masterlist

GIF by @criminalmindsvibez

Hurt/Comfort or Angst with a Happy Ending

🌊Still Left With the River

Derek wakes up to find his boyfriend crying on the sofa. Cue the hurt, the comfort, and the fluff.

1.6k, hurt/comfort, fluff, caretaker!derek, autistic spencer, crying, sad spencer

🌳Trees and Seas Have Flown Away, I Call it Loving You

Derek says something hurtful, but it happens to lead to just about the best thing that’s ever happened to Spencer.

3.2k, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, fighting/making up, angst with a happy ending, autistic spencer, coming out, getting together

🍓A Chronicle of Loss

5 people Spencer Reid lost and 1 person he gained. A look at the traumas Spencer faces over the series, and giving him the happy ending he deserves.

3.6k, grief, loss, abandonment issues, insecurity, depression, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, getting together, ‘didn’t know they were dating’, protective derek, autistic spencer

🍯Honeysuckle

The BAU decide to head out for a picnic one summer afternoon, but they’re soon rudely interrupted by a bee sting and anaphylactic shock. Seeing Spencer carted off in an ambulance is not exactly how they expected the day to go.

2.3k, whump, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, hurt spencer, friendship, medical conditions, severe allergic reactions

🌙The Noiseless Crash of Crumbling Walls

After Derek and Spencer are paired up on a science project in their senior year of high school, they become the closest, most unlikely friends possible. But what happens when Derek finally finds out what Spencer's dealing with at home? Inspired by the prompt “where did you get those bruises?”

4.5k, high school au, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, hurt spencer, protective derek, abuse, friendship, pre-slash, spencer just turned 16, derek is almost 18

🔥The Insistent Burn of a Falling Heart - part two

Derek is hopelessly in love with his childhood best friend, and he can't even escape him at home, since they're living together while they study at Cal Tech. He's resigned himself to a miserable, Spencer-less fate until lasagne, bad memories, and a whole lot of crying bring the real truth out into the open.

4.2k, hurt!spencer, fluff, angst with a happy ending, mutual pining, getting together, college au, first kiss, misunderstandings

💔let him be soft (and let him be mine) part one // part two

After Derek pulls another self-sacrificing stunt at the culmination of their most recent case, Spencer runs out of their apartment as he desperately grapples with how it makes him feel. (Collab with @criminalmindsvibez! You can find her complimentary edit here.)

2.4k, hurt/comfort, crying, abandonment issues, injured!derek, hurt!spencer, miscommunication, angst with a happy ending, fluff, protective!derek

🪦how the cold numbs everything but grief

Six days after Emily dies, Spencer finds himself soaked in freezing water, catatonic on the bathroom floor. Only Derek can ease the roaring, burning, demanding agony of this grief.

1.2k, grief/mourning, emily’s ‘death’ in season six, hurt!spencer, hurt!derek, hurt/comfort, angst with a hopeful ending (serious tw for grief here)

✨storm-darkened or starry bright

Spencer contracts HIV. It all falls apart after that.

6.5k, angst, illness, hurt!spencer, hurt/comfort, worried derek, depression, mutual pining, getting together, angst w a happy ending

⛈this heavy humanness

Spencer leaves the oven on overnight, and Derek - whose pent-up emotions get the best of him - loses it, exposing secrets neither of them expected to be spilled, for two very different reasons. They get there in the end.

3.9k, est. rel., past abuse, arguing & making up, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, miscommunication hurt spencer

💤I turn and reach for you

Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

2.1k, nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations

Pure Fluff

🌒when I fall asleep (it is your eyes that I close)

Spencer’s not been sleeping, and as much as Derek adores his sleepy clinginess and physical affection, as soon as they get home he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

1.9k, fluff, hurt/comfort, sleep-deprivation, clingy!spencer, physical affection, anxiety, cuddling

🎄A Christmas Like This

Spencer has a very specific plan for their first Christmas in their new house, and it has to be absolutely perfect. Derek’s going to do everything in his power to make his boyfriend as happy as possible, even if that means a house covered in garlands and a tree covered in animal skeletons…

2.9k, fluff, christmas fic, est relationship, neurodivergence, romance, domesticity, day in the life

💍my heart talks about nothing but you

Derek finds Spencer staring longingly at dancing newlyweds while on a case and once he gets to the bottom of why he’s tasked with making a proposal to a man who knows it’s coming special somehow. (He pulls it off.)

2.5k, established relationship, hurt/comfort, minor angst, fluff, relationship discussions, proposal, protective derek

✨I told the stars about you - part two

Derek and Spencer have their first date. They dance to Frank Sinatra and cuddle in an ice cream parlour, before kissing the hell out of each other at Spencer's front door. That's pretty much it. (Prequel to above fic.)

2.1k, first date, first kiss, pure tooth-rotting fluff, dancing, flirting, protective derek

🎂I can’t hold enough of you in my hands - part three

Derek and Spencer are finally getting married and the rest of the BAU are there to help them through every step of the day. Including a little surprise that Derek has up his sleeve for their first dance. (Third part to the above two fics.)

3.1k, tooth-rotting fluff, marriage/wedding day, team as family, team dynamics, domesticity, paternal hotch, maternal alex, just a whole lotta love man

🔪Shovel Talk

Hotch and Emily find out about Derek's relationship with Spencer and decide it's time for a chat.

1.5k, fluff, humour, est. rel., protective!derek, emily, and hotch, relationship reveal, mentions of past hurt spencer

📚I’ll (Never) Know What It’s Like Not to Love You

Spencer finds his old journals in the attic, and he and Derek reminisce on the days they used to pine for one another. Luckily, those days are over, and they have forever ahead of them.

1.3k, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, past mutual pining, past hurt!spencer, cuddling & snuggling, late canon

Getting Together

🌨Even More Beautiful

The BAU is stuck in Michigan with no case and no way home, so naturally, Spencer and Derek confess their love for one another. (Based on the prompt ‘You look even more beautiful covered in snow.’)

3.5k, fluff, love confessions, shy spencer, insecurity, hurt/comfort

🎧Hear it in the Silence

A short, fluffy chronicle of Spencer realising in increments how in love with Derek he is, and navigating a real, beautifully sweet relationship that's not always smooth sailing, especially since he's been hurt before. (Based on Taylor Swift’s You are in Love.)

3.7k, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, dev relationship, tw past abuse, domesticity

🎅🏼Secret Santa

Penelope rigs the BAU’s Secret Santa game to finally get Derek and Spencer together with extraordinary success, and they have her to thank for their future first date. Oh, and a sprig of mistletoe nearly throws the whole thing out the window.

2.8k, fluff, getting together, insecurity/anxiety, christmas fic, first kiss, misunderstandings, friendship

🌳The One Constant

Derek wakes up after having his appendix removed with temporary amnesia from the anesthesia, and Spencer certainly isn't prepared for the man he's pined after for four years to a) not recognise him, and b) start flirting with him. It all works out in the end, with a little help from Hotch.

4k, hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, insecure spencer, flirting, getting together, misunderstandings, first kiss

☕️i’ll retire my bones to make you tea and read you poetry

Derek doesn't exactly expect to invite a sleepy Spencer over for a movie night after a case, but his blinding smile in response makes him happy he did. The kiss they share the next morning makes him even happier.

3.6k, fluff, getting together, cuddling, insecure!spencer, pet names, mutual pining, light hurt/comfort, first kiss, love confessions

Embarrassed!Spencer Drabble

A misunderstanding at a BAU get together has Spencer embarrassed and a long-awaited kiss finally happening.

1.2k, fluff, angst, getting together, first kiss

📚100

Spencer's an academic researcher who spends every morning at his local library. Derek just happens to drop by one Tuesday and ask the pretty boy in the classics section if he can help him find a book. Sparks fly.

2.1k, library au, fluff, meet-cute, pining, shy spencer, coming out

💣Mayhem

Imagine that scene in S4E1 when Derek is driving the ambulance loaded with a bomb about to explode, except it’s Spencer on the other end of the phone and they finally get their shit together.

4.2k, canon divergence, spencer is the tech analyst, getting together, mutual pining, insecure spencer, angst with a happy ending, fluff, declarations of love

🧑🏻‍🦽 dry me off and hold me close

Derek has finally relented and is bringing his boyfriend Spencer to meet the rest of the team. That means, though, he has to finally tell them about his boyfriend's disability. Terrified that they'll react badly, he puts it off until he can't anymore. Turns out he was worried for nothing

5.7k, so much fluff, protective derek, disabled spencer, caretaker derek, spencer is not in the bau, team as family, hurt/comfort, light angst, est. rel, chronic illness, slice of life: disabled edition

💐I’ll bloom for you (while my heart still cries)

(Based on the age-old tumblr prompt) "Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery and today you've caught me and insisted on coming with me to make sure the 'girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft' and I'm trying to figure out how to break it to you that we're on our way to a graveyard."

3.7k, fluff, meet-cute, au: student spencer, fbi agent derek, hacker penelope, grief & mourning, shy spencer, getting together, mutual pining

🌖This Gravitational Pull

Penelope Garcia sets her two best friends Derek & Spencer up on a blind first date. Even with the best intentions and highest expectations, no-one could've predicted it would go quite this well.

2.9k, fluff, first date, au: diff first meeting, shy spencer, insecurity, anxiety, flirting, cuddling, protective derek, silly amounts of affection

#criminal minds #criminal minds masterlist #criminal minds fic #moreid #moreid fic #derek morgan #spencer reid #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid

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