#is shadow still part black arms. imagine if they brought in the black arms that would be wild

[purpleyoonn]

red string 2

“our connection is determined by a tiny invisible string”

summary: you figured it was too late for your string to solidify, used to the idea of finding someone on your own, who also never got their string. However, your string began to tug when you least expected it, to the last person or people you would have ever thought.

genre: soulmate au, red string of fate au, poly au,

pairing: BTS (Yoongi centered) x Reader

status: ongoing (random updates)

warnings: slight yandere themes, insecure reader, alcohol, talks of jealousy, soul bonds, mentions of past abuse,

chapter warnings: soul pain, first meetings, running away, mc didn’t really want a bond, cinderella-esque plot line, mc is cynical, allusions to past abusive relationship, bad flashbacks, kind-of kidnapping but not really??, soul tug, mc has ptsd, 

I am not going to have a taglist for this fic. I will only be using the permanent taglist as its intended for all of my fics.

permanent taglist: @m1sss1mp​ @yourleftsock​ @skyys-universe​ @cryingpages​ @strxwbloody​  @drissteele​ @dustyinkpages​ @iamkookiesforyou​ @crushedblackroses​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​ @blaaiissee​  @iiitsmaria​  @carolinexkpop​  @azazel-nyx​ @strawberry-moonpies​ @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​ @knjkitten​ @foreverweareyoung7​ @lachimolala22019​ @namuficxs​ @94z-93​ @kimgmzmc​ @thenaverse​ @dahliasbouqet​ @black-rose-29​ @tinyoonsblog​ @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d​ @stellauniverse​ @stupendouscookiehumanmug​ @tinyoonsblog​ @veronawrites​ @tatyhend​ @singukieee​ @m0v3m3ntsblog​ @exfolitae​ @butterymin​ @queen-in-the-shadows​ @anaspectoflife @welcometomyworld13 @slinekyu @ghostlyworld@svnbangtansworld @loisje123 @i-have-no-life-charlie @danielle143 @jcrml@softieyn @kyuupidwrites @friedlollipop @lulu-83​ @tokiodori​

masterlist // part 1 // part 3

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Previously on Red String:

“If Mr. Min saw you carrying her, you would need the medical room.” The guard’s words were blunt, but a little worrying.

“Mr. Min? You don’t mean…” Hong visibly paled as he looked down at you, his mind making the connection you didn’t want to say. His grip loosens as Hyunsoo takes you from his arms.

“I don’t need to remind you of the NDA you signed, do I, Hongmin?” The man who found you shook his head quickly, before looking down at you once more and walking away. You could almost see his body shaking as he did so.

Still unable to move your neck, you grumble into the guard’s chest.

“So, how’s it goin?” You ask, your brain’s defense system seeing sarcasm as its only choice.

The guard assigned to you was immensely stoic; silent in a way you couldn’t even crack a smile out of the man as you grumbled to yourself.

“You know, this was not how I wanted to spend my birthday. I imagined, well, hoped for, a nice drink and take out with a crappy movie I could laugh mindlessly to. Not having fate move against me and trap me against the bathroom door.”  The guard just kept walking, sometimes stopping to adjust you in his arms as your body arguably continued to let gravity do its job, more or less against your will but who were you to fight against fate when it went with your own wishes.

“So, where are we goin?” You asked him, trying to get the man to crack, but he just continued to ignore you. You weren’t going to give up though.

You could vaguely hear the music playing, the concert still happening as you were being brought to your doom. You wondered where the man was taking you, only slightly correct in the idea that you would be brought to a waiting room of some sort. However, you realized you were wrong when you were brought to a very nice room, three big couches taking up the left of the room while a couple of tables and vanities took up the other half.

The guard, and consequently you, only made it a couple of steps in before the door was being opened again. Well, more like the door was slammed open, almost flying off its hinges as the man you were trying to run from pushed his way into the room. You would have laughed at the growl coming from Yoongi’s lips if it wasn’t aimed in your direction, and a shiver raced up your spine. You were practically shaking in the guard’s arms!

Yoongi was surely gone, Agust D taking his place as the dark look in his eyes takes in your figure, resting in the arms of the guard he had assigned to watch you. He couldn’t explain the rage he felt when he saw you in the arms of someone else; someone who wasn’t him! You were his bond, his red string! He could feel the growing possessiveness he held for you, his instincts screaming at him.

“Sirs, I—” The guard tried to explain but began to stutter after being pinned with six other glares that accompanied Yoongi’s; looks that radiated anger and power looked at him, and only then did the guard realize what he was doing wrong. He didn’t understand why the guard was holding you when he said not to touch you.

Yoongi just held his hand up, stopping the man from continuing his apologies, and stepped forward, arms reaching to take you from him. You only grunted, not exactly wanting to be in Yoongi’s arms but unfortunately, the stupid soul tug was still in effect. You couldn’t fight against the idol who now tightened his embrace around you and cradled you to his chest like a lost kitten. Like he expected you to jump from his arms any second and run.

Well, he wouldn’t be wrong.

It’s not like I could make it far anyways. You answered the stupid voice in your head.

You ignored the warmth building in your veins, ignoring the way Yoongi’s touch had your body unwillingly relaxing into his arms as you tried to move your head to see where your strings led.

You had almost forgotten about your fourth string, now split into four other pieces, each leading to the members you had yet to meet. You had seven total strings and each one led to one of the boys.

Man, Lindsey was right.

Let’s not tell her that, though. You internally cringed, knowing exactly how your best friend would react. The words “I told you so” would not be the last thing leaving her mouth, unfortunately. She would never let you live this moment down. Ever.

You couldn’t hear anything Namjoon was saying to the guard who brought you here, only seeing the dragon eyes aimed at the shorter man, and the way the guard was nodding every couple seconds. Within a minute the guard had all but ran out of the door, Namjoon turning to you with a smirk on his lips.

You were about to make some remark to the taller man smirking at you but your breath whooshed out instead when Yoongi turned you around and sat down with you still in his arms. He adjusted you so your head was resting back against his shoulder and you were facing the room, feeling entirely too exposed.

“You’re not very good at running, are you?” Yoongi murmured into your ear, causing that stupid, heated blush to creep up your neck and ears. You could practically feel the damn smirk creeping on his lips.

“You knew I’d be here.” You stated, now having put everything together. They were responsible for your and Lindsey’s seat changes and for the guards keeping an eye on you., making you feel watched and panicked.

“We did say we wanted to speak with you in private…” You turn your head to see Taehyung and Jimin seated on a smaller loveseat to your right. Taehyung had a neutral expression but you could see in his eyes something different, while Jimin was just hopeful, watching your own facial expressions carefully.

You look down at Taehyung’s words, feeling the pain of rejection and hurt all over again. You didn’t think you wanted to have a conversation that would lead to where you thought it was going to, so you wanted to avoid it all together.

It seemed Yoongi could tell where your thoughts were going, moving his arm from around your waist to slowly trail his fingers up your arm and to your wrist, turning your left hand over connecting his palm with yours, intertwining his fingers with yours causing the thick, dark red string connecting you to glow for a couple of seconds before returning to normal. The bond snapping back into place after being incomplete from your first meeting.

The first stage of the bond, the soul tug, was meant to ensure that the bond was being completed. This meant you now couldn’t go be more than a few feet from any of the boys once you had physical contact. By you running, and now Yoongi holding you, the first stage had begun.

You try to leave his grip, feeling the tingling and numbness in your toes starting to disappear, but unfortunately, the rest of your body was not so lucky. When Yoongi noticed your attempts, he smiled smugly, taking advantage of the fact that you couldn’t move or leave him by holding you tighter against him.

“Do you not feel the tug? Do you not feel the way your body relaxes against Yoongi’s touch, even against your own subconscious?” Namjoon’s questions have you tensing again, not wanting to answer his question, instead you stare at your bonds, noticing the tugging sensation and the ripples in color whenever one of them moves.

“Do you not feel the bond you so obviously share with us, the one you continue to fight against?” Namjoon continues, frowning as Yoongi leans back to rest against the back of the couch, your body unhappily following along. Your cheeks grow hot again, your body working against you and showing the way you feel about the answers to his questions, completely giving you away to the intelligent leader.

“Ignoring the feelings you have for the bond; it does not ignore the fact that we are soulmates. Your strings are connected to ours. You are ours whether you like it or not. We aren’t going to let you go and we aren’t going to just let you walk out of here without us by your side.” You open your mouth in shock at the leader’s words, wondering where in the hell he got is audacity from?! The rest of the boys were nodding their heads in agreement, as if they had already discussed this.

Which they probably did, the little voice in your head tells you.

You ignore the voice and you ignore the butterflies in your stomach at Namjoon’s claim. You hadn’t realized how much you would love the idea of being claimed until it was staring you in the face, with a little tilt of the head and a raise of the eyebrow.

Before you could argue against his words, you could feel your phone in your back pocket vibrating. You sighed out in relief and hoped you could use this as an excuse to leave.

Lindsey you are a life saver! You praised your best friend in your head, only to start cursing as you felt Yoongi reaching for your phone, his hand resting just a little too long against the curve of your ass before taking your phone out of your pocket.

“Give me—" You’re cut off but Yoongi pressing the answer button and pressing your phone to his own ear.

“Where the hell are you dude? You disappeared and missed the entire concert! I’ve been looking for you everywhere and trying to think nice thoughts while one of those guards from earlier follows me around!”

“I’m sorry about that. You must be Lindsey?” Yoongi’s voice was soft, like velvet as he spoke to your friend. You were in shock at the change in his voice, from sultry to being as sweet and innocent as can be.

“Who is this and why do you have my best friend’s phone?”

“This is—”

“Is this Yoongi? Oh my god! Uhm, you know what, never mind. Just make sure she goes to bed on time. She gets cranky in the mornings.” Yoongi wasn’t even able to get a couple words out before Lindsey recognized his voice.

Hmm. It seems our little soulmate told her friend about us. And she approves. Yoongi hummed to himself as Lindsey hung up the phone after promising she would give your things to the guard following her, assuming that he was working with the boys and she was right.

“Well, it seems as though your friend is just fine with you coming home with us.” Yoongi’s smile brightened as he watched the others faces light up, Jungkook was especially excited as he knew you were his age. He hoped you liked to cuddle, seeing as the others never liked to stay in bed as long as he did.

“What… I…uh?” You stammered, brain moving too slow as you tried to come up with a way out if this, forgetting the fact you still couldn’t move.

You hear a slap and see Jungkook bouncing in his seat, clearly excited for you to come home with them. He was slapping his thighs and talking animatedly to Jin about all of the things he planned to do with you. You would have been completely endeared by his plan to play video games with you if you weren’t internally freaking out.

“I can’t go with you!” You blurted out, cringing a little at how loud you were.

“Why not?” Hoseok inquired; eyebrow raised as he watched you come up with an excuse.

“I, uhm, don’t have any clothes.” You replied, a little proud of your quick answer only for your smile to shatter at Jimin’s words.

“We can give you some!” You paled at his own excitement, not wanting to crush his plainly obvious feelings of hope. Strike one.

“I don’t have any of my things.” Someone knocked on the door, Jin moving around to reveal a man holding onto your bag making you rest your head back against Yoongi’s shoulder, trying to think.

“Look, your bag is right here.” Strike two.

“You guys must be really busy. I don’t want to bother you or anything…” Your last hope to weasel your way out of the situation was destroyed by Taehyung, his smile wide as he counters your words.

“Actually, we planned for you to come with us anyways. We have the next couple of weeks free. You know, we don’t want the soul pain to start.” Taehyung has his own moment of satisfaction as he sees your face pale at his words, knowing all of your plans to leave were thwarted by him. 

Fuck, you cursed.

How in the world did you forget about the soul pain period?

It’s not my fault! I forget a lot of things.

Well, now you can’t be more than a couple feet from them without immense pain. Good job.

You had completely forgotten that when a bonded person meets their soulmate or soul group, completely, for the first time, the string snaps together, leaving each person with only a few feet of leeway to move away. It could last for several days or weeks, depending on the bond and how many people are connected. With your luck and how the universe seems to be against you, you guessed it would be months before you were able to leave.

Strike three and you’re out.

-*-*-

You pouted the entire way to the boy’s home, unable to move even an inch from Yoongi’s arms without the slight pain tugging at your chest making you groan out and want to gouge your heart out. How dare your body do this to you?

The boys, on the other hand, were all making bets on how long you would try to fight them. They could tell this was just some sort of defense mechanism and were all building their own individual plans to make you theirs. They knew it was only a matter of time before you were seeking them out.

“Welcome home, baby.” Jin smiled down at you as he unlocked the door. It made your insides tingle and made your head hurt all at the same time. For a second you couldn’t remember why you were fighting against this, everything becoming jumbled together in your head. You couldn’t remember the fear you felt for the bond, the trauma from your last relationship almost disappearing from your mind as Jin smiled at you.

Your thoughts were forgotten when Namjoon placed his hand on your back, helping you inside, through the living room and down the hallway until you appeared at the entry of a room with a very large, wall to wall bed. It looked like the comfiest cloud of softness you had ever seen.

You were practically melting at the idea of being able to lay in the soft warmth you could only imagine you would feel.

“Why don’t you get changed, baby.” Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk at your face, the way it changed from adoration to a deadpan as you looked up at him.

“I’m not changing in front of you.”

“Baby, I can almost guarantee you’re going to want to strip in front of me eventually…if it’s not me undressing you.” Jungkook retorted, smirk growing into a devilish grin as your eyes narrowed.

“You wish I would undress for you.” You snap back, trying to take a step back only for the tug to bring you closer than before. This makes Jungkook’s grin widen.

“Baby, it’s not a wish.” Jungkook pushes further, an inch away from being able to steal a kiss from your lips, and boy was he tempted!

Until he noticed the fear behind your eyes, causing him to step back and turn around. He was mortified! You had thought he was going to force himself on you?! He needed to talk to the others, but how were they going to do that when the soul tug was active?

When you were finished changing into the oversized shirt and shorts, you timidly tapped on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I’m uh, I’m changed now.” Your entire demeanor had shifted, flashback after flashback trying to steal your vision as you forced yourself not to shake. You were scrappy, you knew that, but only to defend your own mind from what it saw as a threat. 

You could not put yourself in a position to be vulnerable again. (But you also didn’t want to let on that anything was wrong. You couldn’t have that conversation. Not right now, hopefully not ever.)

“I’m sorry if I pushed you. I was only teasing.” Jungkook tried to apologize, his hand reaching out to grasp onto your arm but you flinched away from him, the soul tug allowing you a few feet leeway.

“It’s uh, it’s okay.” You rushed out, trying to end the conversation before you could imagine where it would go. But Jungkook was observant, and he could practically feel the pain in your heart. Something happened. Something that had you flinching away and fighting a soul bond.

And he had a bad feeling about it.

#bts #bts au #yoongi centered #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #red string #red string yoongi #red string of fate au #bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly au #bts poly!au #bts poly! #min yoongi #fluff #angst #bts slight yandere #slight yandere #protective bts #possessive bts #purpleyoonn

[betweenblackberrybranches]

So i wrote a little thing for the RLGL au

Its a prologue of sorts, the first actual meeting between the guys and y/n at work before they become neighbours

Be warned though i am not a writer and typed this out quickly on my phone while i was supposed to work so it is probably not that good (i think i just randomly switch between present tense and past tense so it just be like that)

Warning for suggestive themes. But nothing explicit is mentioned

There you stood, one hand grabbing the handle of the sleek chrome and wooden door. This was not part of your job description. And this was really not something you wanted to do. You were a janotor. Fixing minor electrical things, looking after the plumming, washing all sheets that the cleaners brought into the washing room and fixing and cleaning up the rough stuff. Every day was busy and you had always kept to yourself and the many staff only hallways, away from the rich red and black velvet and the polished wooden floors, raw concret where the eyes of the customers wouldnt see.

You felt safe in your domain, the low humming of the heating filling the basement rooms like the breathing of a sleeping dragon. Or atleast that was what you liked to imagine it as. It made your work seem atleast a little more exciting and kept your mind of the various fluids you had to painstakingly rinse out of the white and burgundy sheets.

You straighten your sleeves, a black turtleneck black slacks and a black baseball cap with fazCOs logo, not really the usual uniform for the people interacting with customers, worlds away from the white button up and vest you should be wearing. But this was an emergency. Well as far as the rich bozo in this room was concearned atleast. So who knows on what level the "mess" was, this could be anything from some spilling to..... well no need to think about worst case szenarios.

Straightening your cap one last time you enter the dimmly lit room. You immidiatly regret every single choice that led you to this specific sight. The hairs on your arms rising in protest as you try to nonchalantly step further into the mess, the customer having left apparently, not even waiting for the emergency roomservice to arrive after calling for it. Red wine and some gunk that looked like it had been food once that had been chewed and spit out again smeared all over the couch and carpet. You call out to make sure the coast is clear, trying very hard to not gag.

As soon as you are sure there is no human in the room you rush to a lifeless form of satin metal and plastic on the ground, swallowing hard as salvia and gall rise up in your throat. You find the second one bundeled up on the bed, lanky arms and legs positioned in a way that sent a shiver down your spine, one of his arms was popped out of the shoulder, only hanging by the many thin cables running under the outer casing.

Shaking hands finding the small power button at the base of the blue ones head you wait, counting five and then ten seconds. This isnt something you should be doing. This is against company policies, and yet you cant just leave them like this for a technician to find after you cleaned up. The soft hum of the reboot sent your hand back as if burned and you kneel down to repeat the action on the yellow one. You knew they had names, pretty obvious ones at that.. sun and moon. You had only seen them from afar until now. Especally because you were not a waiter or maid, someone who would walk past them regularly in the flashy suits and club rooms, no you were someone working in the shadows. A shame that the one time you saw them this closely it felt like you should avert your gaze, because even under the questionable liquids and gunk they still looked stunning. The yellow one started humming under your touch and you hurridly got up, starting the cleaning process and ignoring the two stiring bodies like you were supposed to.

Moon sat up straight, unfurling from his nothing but explicit position, his left arm dragging on the bed. No mind was given to the worker bustleing around the furthest corner as moon leaped forwards and down to the ground, shaking arm immidiatly finding his bright counterpart who was in the process of opening his eyes. Sun looked up and welcomed the soft embrace of moon, foreheads pressed together best they could with their orbish heads, giving themselves just one moment of comfort before dealing with the situation at hand.

You had started to clean the bathroom first, wanting to give the two robots enough time to regain their baring and hide their bodies away if they so wished. A bitter taste on your lips you reenter the main suite with two steaming hot towels and a big box of wet wipes, wordlessly pressing them in the hands of the two, now sitting on the bed encased in a thin sheet. With any interaction between general staff and escorts being prohibited you were pretty much towing the line of doing something that could get you fired, but you felt like this needed to be done.

Moving on you cleaned the carpet, trying to ignore the two bots meticulously wiping down eachother. You sigh. This all felt so wrong. You grab the cleaning rag tight as you rub at the carpet and wish you could do more for the two than gracefully ignoring them and their disheviled apearances, assuming theyd even want any help from a random janitor.

They are still cleaning and fixing up eachother when you put away the last stained pillowcase and wipe down the low table one last time. You swallow dryly. All you can think of doing for them is grabing two small post it notes from your cart and make small origami flowers, one of like three things you know how to fold. Leaving them behind on the stack of clean clothing you plop down on one edge of the bed. It is hard not to sneak one last look at the two, hovering around eachother, deeply concentrated on reapplying eachothers makeup with gentle brushstrokes.

The most beautiful constelation. But you feel like this is not something you are supposed to whitness.

You leave the room, softly dragging the door shut behind you and the cleaning cart with a click, disappearing back into the concrete lined corridors of the staff only areas, back to whatever you were doing before, the two robots in their gentle embrace at the border of your mind.

Cream fingers close around the neon colored paper flowers, to be carefully deposited in an inner jacket pocket and transported home. To be kept safe in a small cardboard box under their bed. To be forgotten but never lost.

#fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #dca #daycare attendant #dcamv #my writing #rlgl au #i know this isnt very good #or long #anyways ill go hide now

[airas-story]

Got Your Back

“You know what,” Tony said, making a displeased face at the weird temple-thing that Stephen had brought them to. Stephen resisted telling him his face was going to get stuck that way. “This is not where I want to die.”

“We’re not going to die,” Stephen said, exasperated. “Though, even if we were, I promise you, I’ve died in worse places.”

Tony gave him one of those looks that made it clear that, while Tony loved him immeasurably, Stephen needed serious help.

Which sure, might be true, but Stephen was a very busy person. Sue him if getting help for his myriad of issues was not on his priority list.

No matter what Wong had to say about it. Wong could keep his opinions to himself.

“You really need to stop dying places,” Tony said bluntly. “Period. There’s no competition out there about who can die in the weirdest places or the most number of times. And if there were, I’m pretty sure you already won and are only competing with yourself at this point.”

Which, okay, might also be true. Didn’t mean Tony needed to point that out.

“I’ll work on it,” Stephen said noncommittally; it wasn’t his fault that there had been so many times when the best way to win involved dying. That and time loops were a thing that Stephen had made excellent use of.

He’d always been creative.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Tony said dryly. “It’s only your life on the line after all.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Stephen agreed. “So how about you leave me to worry about it. And if you’re worried about dying, then maybe you should sit this out.”

“You said that this was an Artificer’s Temple, and that you suspected they dabbled in mechanics,” Tony pointed out. “And that you might need a mechanic’s touch to disable any traps. So unless one of your fellow sorcerers has gone and gotten a PhD in engineering, I’m your best bet.”

He really was Stephen’s best bet, and Stephen knew it.

It was the only reason he was bringing Tony along anyways. He hated endangering Tony any more than he had to, especially since Tony was pretty much retired at this point—for now at least—his vision damaged in his right eye and his mechanical arm mostly untested. Though given that it had been a collaboration between Shuri and Tony, Stephen had no doubt that the arm was more than up for the task of anything Stephen could imagine.

Stephen focused back on the artificer temple that they had only discovered in their attempts to track Mordo. Ominous, he decided, would be a good description. The stone was pitch black and seemed to absorb the light around it, making the whole area feel dimmed and shadowed. It reeked of darkness that reminded Stephen of the dark dimension.

He glanced at Tony, reassuring himself that Tony was okay.

Tony must have felt his gaze, because he turned toward Stephen giving him a reassuring smile that only touched the left side of his face.

Burned or not, he was still the most beautiful, most precious man that Stephen had ever seen.

“Hey,” Tony reached out, taking his hand and giving it the softest of squeezes. “This is going to be fine. What’s a temple going to do, come alive and swallow us whole?”

Stephen groaned. “Thank you, Tony. You’ve now jinxed us. Because let’s face it, we both have the sort of luck that would include buildings trying to eat us.”

It was absolutely something that a talented enough artificer could pull off, that or a large enough group of artificers aimed at a larger purpose.

“Well, it would be an interesting way to go, at least,” Tony commented blithely. “So, what are we looking for anyways?” Tony asked, ignoring the comment about jinxing them. Tony was always good at ignoring things he didn’t want to acknowledge. It was almost impressive.

And no, Stephen wasn’t a hypocrite.

“Not sure,” Stephen admitted. “We just want to make sure that Mordo isn’t causing problems here.”

“Right. Your old mentor who decided it was time to steal the magic from everyone who doesn’t agree with him. Sounds like a great guy.”

Stephen flinched a little, there was still a part of him that felt a deep sting of betrayal at the thought of what Mordo was doing.

“That’s the one,” Stephen said, keeping his voice neutral. Tony winced and sent him an apologetic look. “Now let’s go, I don’t want to give him any more time to find ways to cause the rest of us problems than we have to.”

“After you, doc. I’ve got your back.”

Stephen smiled at him, this one genuine. “I know you do.”

#ironstrange #fic #tony stark #stephen strange

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Being Sacrificed To Sukuna On Halloween Night

Ryomen Sukuna X FemReader

Rating: T+

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, sacrifice, Sukuna being Sukuna, suggestive themes

Word Count: 1.2k

(A/N:) I am so mad at Sukuna in the manga, but I can't help but still like him. He's too good of a villain and I can't help myself. I had to write something for him for Halloween because reasons. I didn't know I was going to make it this long though. I may have had a little too much fun writing it but hopefully all the Sukuna fangirls enjoy it as much as I did writing it. Until next time happy reading and happy Halloween! ~Countess

Your village was small and prone to attacks from the most powerful curse in existence. Ryomen Sukuna had terrorized anyone and everyone and it was only when he demanded a sacrifice every Halloween did the attacks stop. This year was your turn to be taken to the superior curse. You stood before the window, dressed in white and waiting for evening to come.

Your parents watched you wearily, your mother weeping bitterly when the elders of the village came to claim you. You watched your home get smaller and smaller before it finally disappeared. The lanterns that lit your path swayed in the breeze as the men surrounded you, leading you further away into the eerie woods. Their grim faces made you more nervous as you shivered, from both the cold and fear. You had heard all the tales of Sukuna, but you had never seen him for yourself. A few girls had been returned if they hadn't pleased the curse only to never be whole ever again. They were prone to scream at any moment and they would never have the normal life the others got to have. The elders tried to tell you that it was an honor to be chosen but all you could see it as was a curse.

Your escort stopped abruptly in the middle of the darkest part of the forest. Trees seemed to quiver in the shadows, when four red eyes pierced the shadows. Your breath wheezed out, your knees becoming weak, and heart racing so fast you feared it would stop. The men at your side fled leaving you alone to face your doom. Sukuna's form seemed to part the forest as he finally stepped before you, the moon lighting his features. He stood heads taller than you, the largest man you had ever seen. With his extra arms and tattoos that covered him, he was the most terrifying thing you had ever seen.

"So you are to be my sacrifice this year," he spoke his voice matching his terrifying appearance. "You're stronger than most. Majority of the time the women faint at the sight of me."

It wasn't that you didn't want to faint, or run, or throw up. Your whole body had quit functioning, it didn't know which movement it wanted to make first. He chuckled darkly knowing that you didn't know what to do. At lease you weren't screaming, that was the most annoying trait about women. While he enjoyed a good scream it did get old when that's all they would do. Not you as you stood frozen in fear. You would make a nice toy, he figured he could get some fun from you before he sent your mutilated corpse back to your village.

Grabbing your arm, you had no choice but to follow him as he drug you through the pitch black woods. You tripped and walked awkwardly trying to keep up with his fast pace. It felt like your arm was about to be ripped from your socket before Sukuna scooped you up holding your body in his four arms. Your wide eyes watched his features carefully as he brought you further into the trees. You had lost your way hours ago, even if you did escape there was no way you could find your way back to the village. Even if you could, they wouldn't accept you back as they would see you doomed them all to suffer the wrath of Sukuna. What he did with the girls, no one knew. You knew majority of them were killed as some of the corpses would be brought back. Whether he ate the others or whatever he deemed worthy of their bodies no one would know. You would know later, you shivered at the thought, but you would never get the chance to tell a soul.

He set you before a shrine carved into the base of a mountain. He shoved you inside, causing you to sprawl across the stone floor. He stepped over you, his robes pulling at your clothing and hair before he took a set upon a throne of bones.

"You are boring me," he muttered. "No screams, no fighting. I was hoping for a little bit of fun before I killed you. Did you just accept your fate?"

You stood up, brushing the dirt from your robes before nodding.

"You do know you can speak to me?"

You shook your head and Sukuna sighed.

"You're no fun."

You blinked and he stood before you once more. You shrunk back as he gripped your chin.

"Shall we play a game," he cooed.

You gulped.

"If you can entertain me and keep me from getting bored. I'll let you leave at the first sign of dawn. If you bore me, I send your head back to your village and your job will be done. Think you can handle that? I am being very generous."

"Yes," you whispered.

Sukuna cackled, "You're starting off well little dove. Continue and you'll be home before you know it."

Hours passed and you were learning more about the curse Ryomen Sukuna than anyone ever had. You felt like you were walking a tight rope as you tried to keep him pleased. Your body wouldn't stop shaking, especially when his red eyes would glow in rage. You would quickly soothe him over. Sukuna had never met a human female like you and he was beginning to like having you around. He liked the way you felt as he dared you to kiss him, he liked the way your hands felt tangled in his hair, and how much smaller than him you were. So fragile. So human. The sun was beginning to rise faster than he realized, but Sukuna was used to having whatever he wanted. And as a curse he would get whatever he desired, no matter the cost or dirty deed he had to do. He had made you an offer and you had proved yourself worthy in winning, but he wasn't going to let you leave. Not when he finally found a sacrifice worth keeping around. The village could keep the other girls, you had proved to be the one. Your home would be with him and he was ready to see that light leave your eyes when you noticed the dawn. He was ready to see the despair replace the excitement.

"Congratulations you won our little game," he grinned ferally. "Too bad you made the game too much fun. I won't let you leave. You can stay with me."

You deflated, tears flowing freely from your eyes. Sukuna stalked forward leaning over your sobbing form. You looked at him with such hatred it gave him a thrill, your body jolting in revolt as he licked the tears from your cheek.

"Welcome to your new home little dove," he growled.

You had been given an honor you never wanted. The Bride of Sukuna as the curse scooped you up. You kicked and screamed, the fight finally coming to your body as he dragged you deeper into his lair. You wished death upon yourself as the hope he had given you that evening was stripped from you. You cursed him and yourself for thinking a curse such as Sukuna would keep his word. You lost sight of the entrance as the sun was taken from you. Those little rays you had gotten to see were to be the last you ever gotten to enjoy as Sukuna kept you deep in the cave. You were his prize and he would never let you go.

#Sukuna Ryomen X Reader #Sukuna Ryomen / Reader #Sukuna Ryomen #Jujutsu Kaisen #JJK #Sukuna Ryomen Imagine #JJK Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

[tillthelandslide]

Insufferable Arsehole (When In Rome) Part 10 - Step Into Your Skin

An: so I know it's a long time in the waiting but here's the new chapter of Insufferable Arsehole... Taking a little break seriously brought my love back for this series, thank you to everyone who continually supports me, I love you. This next part of the series is titled "When In Rome" hope you enjoy - Lou

Warnings: smut, fluff, mentions of tattoos. Bit long? 🤣

Series Masterlist

Previous part

Rome is heaven, everything about it from the heat, the sun, the views, the vibe, is perfect. Matty had planned the whole thing, Lou going with the flow and following the man she loved. He had managed to book their villa for a week and a half, both wanting to go home at some point and see their families.

Matty was watching Lou from the kitchen window, she was lying by the pool on a sun lounger, clad in a skimpy black bikini that left hardly anything to the imagination. But he didn't need to imagine, not when he had her right there, officially his girlfriend and more than willing to do anything he wanted.

Sunglasses rested over her eyes, and he watched intently as water droplets glistened on her skin in the sun, skin which had darkened far quicker than his. Skin which was already loitered with purple bruises after being attacked by his desperate and aching mouth.

His eyes wandered over her tattoos, landing on the box tattoo above her wrist, directly opposite his own. He didn't notice the huge grin resting on his face as he looked at her, but he was the perfect picture of a man in love. He felt his heart fluttering as he looked at her, he felt like he was flying, no, he was soaring, swept up in everything that was her and he never ever wanted to step back onto the ground, not when soaring felt this good.

Condensation on the glass of the iced coffee he had made her, dripped against his hand, stirring him from his daydream. His feet carry himself to her, leaving the confines of the kitchen, which backed onto the garden which was huge and had a beautiful infinity pool. He immediately feels the heat flush against his body, his bare chest which had just cooled down beginning to form a sheen. His shadow casts over her body as he stands above her.

She removes her sunglasses, smiling up at the man as he offers her the coffee with a smile.

"Thank you my love" she says, sitting up to take a sip, practically moaning as the coffee hits her tongue, the ice cooling her down almost instantly.

Her hand finds his as he still stands, staring down at her, mouth agape slightly. Her now cold mouth places a soft kiss over his knuckles, silently thanking him again.

"Jesus Christ I need to go for a swim to cool off" he says, not referring to being hot because of the weather. She giggles up at him, knowing the effect she had on him, and it's only worsened when she takes her bottom lip in-between her teeth, making the man grunt. His hand grasps her chin gently, thumb plucking her lip from her teeth, calling off the attack before he speaks.

"You're killing me here love" he says and she shrugs at him.

"I'm not doing anything" she says innocently. He chuckles at that, jumping into the pool. She giggles as he hits the water, causing a big splash, the water covering the deck and attacking her too. Little did he know she was suffering too, watching the way his tanned chest glistened in the sun, tempting her to run her palms over the muscle.

She laughs at him as he emerges, curls now soaked and sitting flat against his head as he flicks them back.

"What did I do?" She asks, her hands held to her chest in an attempt to shield herself from getting soaked.

"Nothing. Just being you love and it's killing me" he says, swimming over to the edge of the pool, she stands from her seat, coffee left by the lounger. She lowers herself so she's sat at the edge of the pool by the time he swims to the edge. Her legs part to accommodate him as he rests his arms on her thighs, her hands coming to play with his wet hair.

"Think that's the sweetest thing you've ever said" she murmurs, pressing her lips to the top of his wet head as his arms wrap around her waist, dampening the skin. His hair now smelt faintly like chlorine but she could still smell his clear and inviting scent.

"I love you" he mumbles into her skin, cheek flat against her stomach, before it's moving again so he's lips can peck at the skin.

"I love you too" she says, pressing lightly against his chin so he's looking at her.

"You might as well not be wearing this though love" he says, pulling the fabric of her bikini bottoms before letting them go so they snap against her hip.

"Hmm... Take it off then" she says to tease him on purpose.

"Fucking hell" he groans at her words, head snapping backwards as she laughs loudly. His palms are flat either side of her thighs then, pushing against the surface until he rises slightly, arms flexing as he presses his lips to hers. It's a loving kiss, not rushed despite her words which tempted him.

"It suits you being here.... By the pool, or reading in the garden... Just sitting there looking pretty" he says as he lowers himself again.

"Yeah? Like doing everything for me?" she laughs at her words but he's nodding below her, hooking his arms around her.

"Id do anything for you" he says and although he's words are intense, she knows them to be true.

"I would for you too Matty. Absolutely anything"

"Yeah?" She nods "how about we go inside and get you out of whatever this is?" He asks, hooking his finger into the side of her bikini bottoms, letting it slap back to her hip again. She nods hastily, jumping up from the pool and running inside, giggling as the curly haired man chased after her, dripping in his wake.

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She was covered up in a shirt of his now, the buttons undone as she sat with her guitar in her lap.

Matty was in the kitchen, being domestic and cooking them dinner. She could hear him humming along to something, she laughed when she heard a clatter or heard him swear, usually having to call out an "I'm alright don't worry!"

"Matty come here a second please" she shouts out, hearing his bare feet hit against the tiles not a moment later.

"You alright my love?" He asks, cooking utensil in hand. She nods at him and he places a peck to her mouth.

"Will you listen to this a second? Tell me what you think?" She asks and he nods, placing himself down on the sofa opposite to where she's sat.

He hears her begin to play a familiar melody: the one she began writing when he saw her on the stage before that show.

When I was younger, I saw my daddy cry

And curse at the wind

He broke his own heart and I watched

As he tried to reassemble it

And my momma swore

That she would never let herself forget

And that was the day that I promised

I'd never sing of love if it does not exist

His heart aches at the words, desperately wanting to just take away the guitar and hug her, to let her know she had him now and love, it really did exist. Theirs was strong and he truly believed it could conquer all. He never really felt like that before, love before her was something that occupied his time, made life a little less shit and a little more bearable. But with her, her love, it was everything, it was the air he needed to breathe, the music to his ears, the blood pumping in his veins.

But darling, you are the only exception

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

Her eyes find his and if he wasn't just a bit too realistic he would've thought time slowed. She was singing about him.

Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul

That love never lasts

And we've got to find other ways to make it alone

Or keep a straight face

And I've always lived like this

Keeping a comfortable distance

And up until now I had sworn to myself

That I'm content with loneliness

Because none of it was ever worth the risk

Matty feels his heart yearn for her. The words she sung were beautiful, and they told him everything he had always wanted to know. About her parents (very briefly and he still wanted to know more) about how love was for her before him.

But you are the only exception

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

I've got a tight grip on reality

But I can't let go of what's in front of me here

I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up

Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream

Her voice picks up and he notices how for the first time, her eyes flutter close. He sees a single tear fall from the corner of her eye and his breath wavers and he feels a lump in his throat, especially when her eyes reopen and peer into his. He can see how she's bearing her soul to him, he sees it and he knows it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

You are the only exception

And I'm on my way to believing

Oh, and I'm on my way to believing

She sang the song he had heard before, but she sang it completely now. He finds himself with tears in his eyes and she's quick to place the guitar down, pulling him into her and cradling his body in her arms. He didn't need to ask, he knew it written for him and somehow he realises just how much she loved him. He had never been loved this hard before, this fiercely, and he had a feeling she hadn't either.

His voice is quiet when he finally speaks, not whispering but hushed.

"Love..." His voice trails off, not knowing what to say.

"You don't have to say anything... Just tell me if it's bad" she says but she knows by his reaction that it's not.

"Lou it's a beautiful song" he murmurs, looking at her now as he cradles her face gently.

"Scared it's a bit too personal to share..." She says, voicing her worries to the man she loved.

"I think it's truly beautiful and people will love it" he says, smiling widely now.

"Yeah I'm sure you'll love that a song about you is out there... And a love song at that" she says, both confirming that the song was indeed about him but also insinuating that she's written about him before.

"Does do something to my ego love can't deny that" he jokes, the both of them lightening the mood.

He wants to ask her about her parents, about the love that she's experienced in her life, but she reminds him that the food is left unattended and he reminds himself to ask another time. She joins him in the kitchen, to help when needed but to mainly watch as he cooked.

The way his arms flexed as he stirred the food in the pot has a sighing happily. A cooking apron rested around his bare neck, it was too hot to wear a shirt so he was just adorning a pair of swimming shorts and the apron.

"You look awfully domestic matty" she says, making him turn to look at her.

"Yeah? Like it?" He asks as he returns to the task at hand.

"Love it" she confirms making him smile. He lowers the heat of the food so it simmers as he walks over to where she's sat, stepping between her legs as she wraps her arms tightly around his waist.

"I love you" he says, making her smile, leaning up to meet him half way in a sweet kiss.

"Try this" he says, returning to the food, turning it off before bringing a spoonful to her mouth. He watches as she blows gently on it to cool it down, before he slides the spoon into her mouth. He groans as she moans upon tasting it, the act isnt supposed to be sexual but god it was. The spoon finds it's way out of her mouth and his mouth falls open slightly as she licks her lips.

"Jesus Christ Matty. That's heavenly" she says, surprised at his cooking skills. He doesn't say anything and she frowns up at him, asking him what's wrong.

"You're going to be the death of me, fuck the food come here" he says, throwing the spoon the side with a clatter before pulling her up from the chair and throwing her over his shoulder. Again she's surprised by his strength and all she can do is giggle as he carries them up the stairs.

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

"My mum and dad loved each other loads, but my dad had his own struggles and he didn't really deal with them when he was with my mum... he didn't ever let her see him in a vulnerable way" Lou explains, lying on her side next to Matty, who was listening intently to every word she said. He had finally asked her about her parents and the love she grew up around.

"My mum got to the point where she couldn't live with him when he was like that... She realised she couldn't fix him... He had to do that himself" she explained.

"Eventually my dad got better, opening himself up to me, allowed me to see him in that way... And then he met Mia's mum and they had mia... And my mum found her partner..." She explains and Matty nods.

"How did it impact you though?" He asked, knowing there was more to he told.

"It kinda fucked me up... Wasn't their fault though... I seemed to always get into relationships with guys who were emotionally unavailable... Ones who got me to fall for them and then kept me at arms length... After a few times I just began keeping myself at a distance... The only love I really knew, before you to be honest, was always unrequited" she finally explains, confirming Matty's theory.

"Every single one of them were absolute fools for not loving you... You're the best thing that's ever happened to me" Matty says, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth, pulling her closer to him, his back flush against the bed as she rested on top of him.

"I love you" she murmurs against his mouth.

"Thank you for telling me all that" he says and she smiles at him.

"I want you to know everything"

"I want to know everything... And want you to know everything about me too" he says, his words making her smile widely because that's all she's ever wanted, to know him, fully know him. Years worth of horrible relationships with guys she didn't really want, were all made worth while, because now she was with her person, the person she was always supposed to be with.

"You were made for me, you're my person" he says softly and she nods at him.

"You're my person" she says, kissing him again, the both of them smiling at each other. Matty gently presses against her shoulders until she's against the bed, he repositions himself so he's hovering over her, holding himself up as his eyes wander over her. She usually would feel vulnerable like this, him watching her as she laid there, not a single item of clothing covering her. She felt completely bare, physically and metaphorically, but she didn't feel vulnerable, she couldn't, not with the way he looked at her like she was his entire world.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen" he says, the most beautiful thing, thing. Because she was more beautiful than any person he had ever laid eyes on, more beautiful than any flower, sunset, sunrise, more beautiful than any painting could even attempt to capture.

"I'm never going to love someone as much as I love you" he admits, her heart fluttering at his words. She feels his words in every part of her, she feels the effect he has on her brain, clouding every corner of it, painting it with beautiful shades of him. She feels the way he fills her heart, filling it so much it almost hurts, it hurts when she's without him, but luckily he filled it enough that he was still there, even when he wasn't. She feels the way he makes her hairs stand on end, her senses heightened, she feels the way every word he says has her core fluttering, longing for that sweet release only he was able to grant her.

She feels the way her pupils dilate when she sees him, vision narrowing, he defined the phrase "tunnel vision" because no one even existed when he was in the room. Every single part of her longed for him, never wanting to be without him, knowing that the thought of being without him, would destroy her, so she simply pushed it away, not even needing to think about it, because it simply wouldn't happen.

"Good" she says leaning up to place her lips to his, the man trying with all his willpower not to lower himself onto her.

"Because I don't plan on ever being without you" she says as he pulls away from him, him chasing her mouth with his own, enveloping his tongue with hers.

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

They stand at the foot of a tiny shop, wedged in-between a rustic looking bar and a coffee shop. The tattoo sign hung above the frame, slanted, the lights flickering occasionally. The shop was situated about 2 minutes away from their villa and Matty saw it on the first day of their trip, insisting they had to get tattoos.

Matty's eyes are covered in a pair of Truman, black-ish glasses, he wears a pair of black denim shorts and white (and slightly sheer) white shirt, the sleeves of which are rolled up. She was wearing a white milkmaid-like summer dress, which was quite short and revealed the skin of her tanned legs and chest, her collarbones shining, tempting his eyes to look at the swell of her breasts picking out of the fabric. She thought he looked fit, he thought she looked ravishing

"Matty... This looks dodgy as fuck" she says making him laugh, eyes flicking from the sign to the man squeezing her hand. She watches as his cheeks stretch into a smile, his arm hooking around her shoulders, pulling her into him, pressing his lips against the side of her head.

"Come on love, gotta live life on the edge" he says, the words mumbled into her skin.

"If I get some infection because of you...." Her words trail off, her threat cut short.

"You'll be fine come on" he says pulling them into the shop. The bell above the door rings and an oldish looking man comes to greet them, a tanned man with black and grey hair greets them with a smile.

"What a beautiful couple!" He exclaims and the two smile. The man pauses, looking at Matty as he takes his glasses off, for a moment they think he's going to recognise them but the man laughs.

"You look like a rockstar!" Is all he says and it makes Lou chuckle.

"What can I do for you?" He asks and Matty's eyes find Lou's.

"I know what I want but I don't want you to see yet" Lou nods and Matty smiles.

"I'll get my son to come to you" the man says, his accent thick. He shouts in Italian, and seconds later a tanned man with black hair similar to his enters the room.

"This beautiful lady wants a tattoo" he says and the man comes towards her, smiling at her. He's arms are covered in tattoos and his eyes are piercingly blue. He's attractive, not that Lou even notices because she's too busy staring at her boyfriend who's talking to the man and being led away.

"What can I do for you?" The man asks and she proceeds telling him what she'd like.

The man applies the transfer onto her skin, complimenting her other tattoos as he does. His hand touches the box tattoo, complimenting the artwork.

"What's it for?" He asks and she smiles.

"It's for a band" she says simply, smiling at it.

"A logo?" She nods.

"You in the band?" He asks, accent thick.

"Yeah... Yeah I'm in the band" she smiles, a huge smile that makes the man smile too.

"That man had the same yes?" He asks and she nods again. He begins tattooing her.

"Your boyfriend?" He asks again, eyes momentarily flicking up to hers before focusing back on the gun, hands moving with precision.

"Yeah..." She says, the smile unwavering from her face.

"A lucky man" he says and she hears Matty speak from behind her, making her turn her head.

"I am indeed" he says as he bends down, their lips meet in a kiss

"That was quick, let me see" she says as the man continues, she's so used to the feeling now having had so many done, she's completely uphased.

"Later" he says, hiding his hand, she raises her eyebrows but let's it go.

"What are you getting?" He asks and she shakes her head.

"It's a surprise don't look" Matty turns his head at that, instead looking into her eyes instead of her arm where the ink is being applied.

"You truly are a beautiful couple" the younger man says and they both smile again.

"Thank you" Lou says and Matty nods, agreeing to the sentiment.

The man continues his work for a few more minutes, wrapping the tattoo. The couple both pay, thanking the two men before leaving the store.

They walk back to their villa, Matty holding her to his side. When they get back he's immediately asking to see the tattoo. She smiles as she takes the wraps off revealing it to him.

He sees two dates itched into her arm and instantly smiles at the sight, tears appearing in his eyes.

One date was the first date they joined them on tour "the day that changed my life" she says, earning her a kiss from the man. He looks down at the other date "the day I asked you to be my girlfriend?" He asks, she nods. They kiss again before they're hugging each other tightly.

"Fuck I love you" she's begging to see his now and he reveals his left hand, removing the tiny bit of cling film that wraps around his ring finger. She feels tears spring to her eyes now when she sees her initial itched into the skin.

"Matty..." She's full on sobbing now, and he pulls her into his embrace, their mouths attach. He forces them to pull apart, needing to say what he needed.

"I've got you in my life now and I'm never letting you go. You've got me forever and I know we haven't had many discussions about what we want in life... Maybe we won't get married or have kids... But I know I want you, forever" he says and she continues to cry at his words.

"Matty that means so much to me" she looks at the letter again, resting nicely against his ring finger.

"Do hope to make you my wife though" he says "wouldn't have got it there if not" they laugh then, lips pressing against each other quickly.

"Yeah?" She asks and he nods, sealing his words with a kiss.

"And one day maybe I'll fill that belly with babies" he says, hands resting over her stomach which warms with desire for him.

"Yeah?" She asks again, eyes coming to find his, darkening as they look at him, lip in-between his teeth.

He nods and she smirks "we could practice that bit" he laughs at this and pulls her into him.

"Kinda wanna be buried in-between those beautiful thighs of yours, will you let me do that love?" He asks and she's nodding eagerly up at him, mouth taken up by his not a second later.

It takes him no time at all to have her spread for him on the bed of their holiday home. He's buried in-between her thighs, glorious tongue lapping her up, her hand laced in his curls, tugging at the strands. He groans into her pussy, making her back arch. She holds the dress she was wearing around her waist so she could see him.

"oh fuck Matty" he loves the way his name falls easily from her lips. He smirks and nips at her clit, making her wince "Matthew" she warns.

"Sorry love" he smirks at the way she calls him Matthew again and delivers a calculated swipe over her clit as an apology.

"You're so good" she truly means it, head before him was mediocre at best but he... He has her seeing stars as soon as he gets his mouth on her.

"Taste so good love" he says, truly a starved man, searching for gold and by god does he find it. The way she's clenching around his tongue lets him know she needs more so two fingers find their way into her sopping cunt, instantly curling and hitting her gspot.

"fuck I'm going to cum Matty" her back arches impossibly more, almost giving her whiplash.

"cum for me darling' he says, latching onto her clit and sucking harshly as his fingers relentlessly curl into her. Her juices coat his chin as the wave breaks, pleasure coursing through her body until she's spasming, thighs closing round his head. She pushes his face into her cunt, unaware she's doing so but he moans into her, loving how harsh she was being.

"fuck" he moans into her, euphoria clouding all her senses. Her hands are gripping his hair tightly and slowly her grip loosening, on both his hair and her dress. Her thighs open as the fabric falls around his face.

"that was fucking hot' he says as he comes up to meet her lips with his. She tastes herself on his tongue as she sighs, still coming down from her high. She's quick to undo the zip of his shorts, pushing the denim down his legs, taking his boxers with it.

She grabs his hard member, delivering a few strokes, making him moan loudly, lips peeling off hers.

"fuck" he says as he looks down to watch her manicured hands stroke him, thumbing at the tip until his hips are thrusting into her hand.

"off, off off" she says as he other hand pushes against the fabric of his shirt. The man leans back, her hand still clasped around him as he shrugs his shirt off. He comes back to her, forehead resting against hers again as he watched himself disappear into her hand.

"Fucking hell" he says, mind snapping back to when he was a teenager, in a similar position to this, expect it was his own hand wrapped around himself as he thought about her.

"Really need to make love to you now" he says and his eyes find her darkened ones.

"yes please" she says and he smiles down her, groping her chin and thumbing at her lips. Despite his words he doesn't rush his movements, his eyes wander down her body, tugging at the fabric around her waist until her tits are spilling out of it, his mouth immediately wrapping around the peaked bud. She gasps and her hand falters around him, Matty slowly thrusts into her hand, wanting the pleasure but not wanting to spill over the edge.

"Fuck you're so perfect. My beautiful fucking angel" he says as his mouth attacks her nipples. His hand drifts back down to her legs, his fingers teasing her once more.

"Can't believe you went all day without wearing anything under this dress.... Just waiting and ready for me to fuck you yeah?" He asks, dark eyes finding hers.

"Always ready for you" she says, attempting to pull him forwards and into her but the man stops her.

"Please Matty... Please fuck me" she begs and that's enough for him so he slowly threads the head of him into her wet hole, the two of them sighing out in harmony.

"oh god you're so perfect. My perfect fucking girl. So good to me" he spews, forehead falling against hers as he watches her take him, until his pelvis is flush against hers. He grinds against her, holding myself close to her, letting her adjust.

"Move please" she says, and Matty is snapping forwards into her then, his thrusts deep and slow, hips moving attentively.

"Oh god" she moans, back arching off the bed just to be closer to him. His hands clamp around her waist, holding her to him.

"Not god love... Just me" he says, or should I say moans. She laughs but the noise is quickly replaced by a moan when he hits her gspot. He feels the way she flutters around him, clamping around him, nearly milking him for what his worth, causing his hips to stutter momentarily before he's continuing his purposeful movements.

"That the spot love?" He asks and she nods rigorously, pulling yet pushing him all at once.

"Need more love?" He asks, knowing her body like the back of his hand. She nods again, and he grunts as she clenches around him again.

"Flip" he commands, his tone changing slightly. She does as she's told and is quickly resting on her stomach. Matty grabs a pillow and places it under her hips before he's pulling her backside up by her hips.

A scream tares through her as he thrusts back into her. The angle forces him to hit her gspot with every thrust, the woman beneath him moaning into the pillow.

"Don't hold back on my account love" he says, his hands gripping her hips harshly now, the sting against her skin blissful. There's a cockiness to his words but she truly doesn't care, she's grown to love him when he's like this, and she knows one way which will have him losing his mind: by stroking that ego of his.

"Matty" she moans, although it's muffled against the pillow.

"Let me hear you love. let everyone know who's fucking you" he says, hips moving fast and hard into her, his skin slapping against hers. Her head tilts backwards and he sees tears of pleasure coating her cheeks.

"You're made for me Matty" she says. He watches as the words tumble from her mouth, her glazed eyes daring to flutter close but they stay open, trained on him. Her words have his movements faltering for a split second before he's relentlessly pushing and pulling from her.

"fuck.. you're beautiful. So fucking perfect - fuckkkk" he says, grunting as she begins pushing back into him, the push and pull of their movements intensifying their pleasure. She gasps out in pleasure, fluttering around him, eyes snapping shut as her back arches, clear signs that she was close.

"Come here, need you close" he admits, tugging her upwards until her back is flush with his chest.

"So perfect" he says, smearing his lips against her back.

"Fuck you're so good Matty" she says, feeling his cock twitch inside her, his ego clearly enjoying the compliment.

"Yeah? Tell me how good" he says and she goes to speak but he pulls out, easily maneuvering her body until she's on her back again, he thrusts back in before she even has time to miss him.

"No one fucks me like you Matty" she admits, "I'm going to cum, you're going to make me cum" she says, grasping his face in her hands, lips smearing against his. You're going to make me cum, those wo words almost kill him, but he couldn't think of a better way to go, buried in the girl he loves, the one girl he's always loved, the love of his life.

"Come with me Matty" she says, voice airy and ethereal.

"Oh fuck" he says, his body giving in at her words, hips stuttering forward as he cums inside her, her core squeezing around him as she cums too.

"I fucking love you" he says, laughing as he fills inside her, so content and happy with her.

"I love you Matty. So much" she says.

Note: I know it's long sorry.... Hope you enjoy though. Love you - Lou 🫶🏽

#the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy fan fic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #matty the 1975 #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy imagine #matty healy fanfic #insufferable arsehole matty healy series #the 1975 smut #matthew timothy healy #matthew healy #matty healy series

[jon-withnoh]

guess who's back to exploit your offerings of rebecca drabbles

💗for danvich please!

also i hope you get well soon! (damn you covid coworker)

Finally got to write something for this :) Beware, it is angsty!

When I finally returned to the house, I felt like a stranger. My own shadow seemed too tall to belong to me, the sound of my feet on the flagstones held no trace of the timid girl I had been. I crossed the hall, barely spared a glance for Frith except to hand him my coat and hat. He bowed his head to me, and for the first time it seemed only right that he did so. 

I had not wanted a big reception in the hall, no endless train of servants waiting to greet me. This time, she had honoured the request, maybe because it had been mine and not Maxim’s. She would not be waiting for me in my own rooms, that much was clear. I went up the stairs and threw open the doors to the west wing. I no longer cared who heard me. She stood on Rebecca’s balcony with her back to the room. There was a dull pain in my stomach at the sight of her. She had suffered so much, had been so steadfast. Her hair had more grey in it now than when we’d met. When she turned her head slightly to the side, her cheekbones were more prominent than ever. At the same time, she was not as pale as she had been, there was some colour in her face, even if it was just from the wind. I went to her. She looked at me, shrewd and unsmiling. 

“Well?”

I tried to smile. “It is as we expected. If he is hanged, the house will go to the next male relative in line. That’s Beatrice’s son, of course. As long as the court has not reached a decision, everything remains as it is. But if they do, well…”

“You will have to leave.” 

“Yes.”

“I see.” She turned her whole body to face me and I mimicked her, searching her face for I did not know what. Her expression was impossible to read. “You would stay with Mrs Lacy first, I expect.”

“I suppose so.”

“She would be more than happy to host you, I’m sure, even indefinitely. There must be money as well, a widow’s pension of some sort. You would be provided for.” 

There was something unpleasant in her tone. I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “What does it matter now? We don’t know that anything will change at all.” 

“You mustn’t leave these things up to chance, Madam,” she said. “When something does happen, it will happen fast.”

“Stop.” I had meant to sound decisive, but the word came out as a whimper. “Please stop. Why must you talk about it? Why must we think about it now? We still have time and just for a moment, I want to—”

She raised an eyebrow. “You want to… what?”

“I want to stop. Just stop and be still.”

“Here?”

“Yes, here. With you.” I uncrossed my arms and held out my hands to her. When she did not move, I took a step forwards and brought my hands to her forearms, gently brushing my thumbs over the black fabric of her dress. 

“Madam—”

“If you don’t feel the same, tell me. Say the word and I will never touch you again. I promise. You have nothing to fear from me.” 

She was silent. I took hold of her hands and brought them to my waist. The gentle pressure of her fingers reassured me. She was not merely humouring me. I moved even closer, pleased when she pulled me the rest of the way towards her. 

I brought my hand to her face, tracing the sharp angle of her jaw. “Don’t make me imagine a future you have no part in.”

She blinked, then shook her head. She wore an expression I had become accustomed to over the past few months, her eyes blank and unfocused. She had not been with me entirely. She had heard my words in another woman’s voice. I could not bring myself to care. 

“Don’t ever leave me,” I said. “Please.”

She seemed to become aware of my touch again, leaning in so that my hand was pressed against her cheek. She turned her head and kissed my palm. 

“I would never leave you,” she murmured. “You know I could never leave you.”

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for what I knew would follow. 

“I will be with you always.” Her lips so gentle against my skin. “My Rebecca.” 

The grip of her fingers tightened around my waist. I tipped up my head to meet her, greedy despite the cold that pooled in my fingertips. She kissed me. I had grown accustomed to the way she kissed me in these moments, the way she would have kissed Rebecca had she ever been given the opportunity. Every movement, every touch was worship and I let her worship me. Below us, the indefatigable waves crashed against the cliffs.

#rebecca das musical #my fic #Tumblr oneshots #danvich

[agerefandom]

As I Lay Me Down To Sleep

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Characters: Regressor!Reader, caregiver!Angel Dust

Words: 1,300

Summary: Reader is anxious and can't sleep, and goes in search of Angel Dust for some soothing cuddles.

Warnings: Lots of descriptions of anxiety and vague references to trauma/flashbacks as part of the anxiety. Fear of the dark. Reader is non-speaking.

for @polkadottedpie!

No matter how much you toss and turn tonight, you can’t seem to sleep. It feels like memories are clawing at the edges of your mind, a restless anxiety running through your body. You’ve tried cuddling your stuffed animals, you’ve tried putting your head under the blankets and hiding from the bad feelings, but the night is wearing on and you feel exhausted and tiny and helpless in the face of these waves of emotion.

You want to go and get help, but the room is dark and your light switch is beside the door, and you don’t want to put your feet down onto the carpeted floor where there could be anything lurking in the blackness under the bed.

Shivering, you pull the blanket a little tighter around yourself, staring at the place where you know your door must be. It’s so very dark and you’re so very small and you don’t want to go out there, but you know you will eventually.

Be brave, you tell yourself, and grab your stuffed animal tightly. They are soft and they will protect you. You can imagine their words of encouragement now. You’re going to be okay! You can do it!

You take a shaky breath and then throw yourself out of bed and dash across the room. You can imagine the shadows nipping at your ankles, hands grabbing from the depths of the darkness. You fling yourself against the wall and slam on the light, which nearly blinds you when it turns on.

You blink in the haze of brightness, and your familiar room comes into focus around you. There are your clothes thrown over the chair, your stuffed animals that have fallen out of the bed. The suitcase you never bothered to put away properly. Everything in the right place.

Your fear lessens, but doesn’t leave entirely. Your stomach still feels like something is running circles inside of it, and you cannot loosen your grip on the stuffed animal in your arms. Breathe in, you remind yourself.

Turning to the door, you swing it open and step out into the hotel hallway.

The carpet is soft beneath your feet, and it is colder out here. You wish you’d brought your blanket with you. The hallway is quiet, but you can still hear the muffled sound of Hell outside the walls: music, shouting, explosions: there is no real night and day here, and the damned have no need to sleep on a schedule.

You scurry down the hall, thankful that the lights stay on at all hours.

Angel Dust’s door is unlocked, and you open it with the hand that isn’t holding your stuffed animal against your chest. The space beyond is lit with a reddish glow: Angel sleeps with a nightlight, and it casts the room in warm shadows. You can just barely make out Angel’s form, sleeping under the covers with one leg extended over the side of the bed, all the way up to the tiny pyjama shorts that peek out from beneath the sheets.

You hesitate in the doorway. He’s sleeping, and you don’t want to bother him, but you don’t want to be alone. You’ve tried to sleep, and you’ve tried to read, but nothing is working and you just want cuddles. Will Angel be mad? Surely not: he’s never been mad at you before, but that doesn’t stop the worry from anchoring you in place.

Eventually, you creep forward and enter the room, closing the door quietly behind you. He told you that you could come at any time, didn’t he? It’s weird to stand here and just watch him sleep. You should go and ask him if you can stay.

Everything is so hard tonight. You need to gather all your strength and courage just to go over to the bed. Then you reach down and gently poke Angel’s leg.

“Angel?” you whisper.

“Snnrk.” Angel says something completely incomprehensible, rolling his face over into the pillow. You frown but poke him again, this time in the shoulder. This time Angel snaps awake at your touch, rolling over to a crouching position and manifesting his second set of arms, clearly ready for combat.

You hide behind your stuffed animal, wincing. You’d known it was a bad idea to wake him up.

“Jesus, kiddo, you scared me half to double-death!” Angel relaxes from his defensive posture and immediately starts fixing his hair and making sure his pyjamas are covering him properly. “What’cha doin in here? Couldn’t sleep? Nightmare?”

You nod, letting yourself relax as well and bringing your stuffed animal back to your chest so you can look at Angel over the teddy’s head.

“Well, alright. Do you need a snack? We can go and sneak some ice cream if you want.”

Ice cream does sound nice, but you’re not hungry, so you shake your head.

“You wanna get in here with me?” Angel asks, tossing back the sheets and finding a few unexpected items, which he quickly tosses over his shoulder into a pile of clothes on the other side of the bed. “Cuddles for what ails ya?”

Happily, you clamber into the bed and Angel smiles, clearly happy to have offered something successfully. His extra arms are hidden again, but he pulls you close with his normal arms and tucks you under his chin.

“There you go. Safe and sound. You want to go back to sleep now?”

You really wish that you could, but as nice as Angel’s hugs are, it hasn’t entirely stopped the restlessness that’s kept you awake tonight. You shake your head against his chest, feeling his fur tickle your cheeks as you do so.

“No? Still not sleepy? Can you tell me what you want?” Angel doesn’t sound impatient, but it’s hard for you not to read into his words. You tuck your head a little deeper into his chest, your nose brushing against his pajama top. He sighs but pats your head, affectionate even in his confusion. “Alright, kiddo, you just hang out there and let me know if you need anything.”

You’re happy to just lie here for now. It would be nice if he talked, but you’re not sure how to ask for that, so you content yourself with rubbing the tip of your nose back and forth on his silk top. You love the way Angel smells, strawberry soap and the smoky scent that all demons share, but slightly unique to each one. When Angel goes out, he wears cologne that makes your nose tickle, but here in his own bed, you can nest in those muted scents and feel comforted.

After a while, Angel starts to hum a little lullaby. It’s one you’ve heard him sing before, and the lyrics wander through your head, though you don’t know the order of the verses.

Down in the valley, valley so low Hang your head over, hear the wind blow

The gentle sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest under your ear sooth the anxiety that’s been dragging on you all day. You finally feel able to relax. Angel presses a kiss to your forehead without stopping the song, then rests his chin on top of your head. The song wanders through another chorus and then Angel speaks softly.

“I love you, little bean.”

“Mm-hmm.” Your words still aren’t working, but you hook your fingers under Angel’s pyjama strap and tug it to let him know that you love him too.

“Feelin’ sleepy?”

“Mm.”

“Would you like another song?”

“Mmhmm.”

You can hear the smile in Angel’s voice as he begins humming Goodnight Irene, and one of his hands comes up to cradle your head. You surrender to the embrace of sleep, Angel’s voice following you into the comforting dark.

#hazbin hotel agere #agere writing #fandom agere #age regression writing #agere fanfiction #my fics #my writing #requests #hazbin hotel

[spaceyaceface]

Anger - Safety Ch 5

Ominis Gaunt x f!Ravenclaw!Reader (Reader is not MC)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Fighting, angst

Summary: Y/N L/N had always despised Ominis Gaunt. He was everything she hated about her life. As the only daughter to a wealthy pure-blood family, she knew it was inevitable that she would someday find herself in an arranged marriage.

But why did it have to be him?

Or, a classic arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, slow burn.

Also available on AO3

Chapter One | Chapter Four

Ominis tapped his foot as he leaned against the common room wall, lost in thought at what he’d done not long before. 

He’d shown her the Undercroft. It had taken him a good year or two before he’d even shown Anne and Sebastian—and yet, after no more than a few conversations, he’d brought her down there to bask in his safe haven. 

And he hadn’t even stopped there; no, he’d gone on to tell her more secrets, giving them up before he had a chance to reconsider. 

The strangest part of it all was that he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. 

Because she’d opened as well. In so few words, they came to the realization that they were both a bit broken, a bit bitter about the things that had been done to them. They’d admitted they still lived in fear of what could come next. 

And in the end, she called him Ominis. 

It was curious how impactful hearing his name from her lips was. Before, she’d only referred to him as Gaunt. Her switch, though there was likely no thought behind it, made a strange warmth blossom inside him. Perhaps she was finally seeing he was truly not like his family. 

It was an odd bond they were forming—he knew that. They’d been pushed together by forces they hated, but found something… decent. Something worthwhile. She’d said it herself; if those same forces hadn’t put a wedge between them many years before, maybe they’d have had that bond—that friendship—earlier. 

Friend. Ominis found himself smiling a bit at that as he walked up the stairs to his dorm room, the night having grown very late. He’d found refuge in Sebastian and Anne for so long, not feeling it was worth the risk to go beyond the careful world he’d built. But maybe it was finally time to open the door once more. 

-

She tried to walk in quietly. The hour was late—or perhaps it was better to call it early at that point. She’d stayed in the Undercroft for quite some time, lost in her thoughts. It was soothing, being in a place where she knew no one would disturb her. In all honesty, she’d lost track of how long it had been, and rushed back up the Ravenclaw tower as soon as it hit her. 

Unfortunately, the common room wasn’t as empty as she would have liked. 

Constance sat on the couch, arms folded. Her face was mostly covered in shadow, the room dark, but Y/N could imagine the deep frown on her friend’s face. 

“Are you aware it’s nearly three in the morning?” Constance said. Y/N winced. 

“I am now. Honestly, I lost track of time,” she said honestly. 

“Well I sure didn’t. It’s been nine hours since I saw you last, would you care to explain what on earth happened in that time?” 

She sighed heavily, plopping down on the sofa next to her friend. “I’m sorry.” 

Constance’s frown softened a bit. “I’ve just been worried about you.. You’ve been off for some time now, and then you get called into Black’s office… what’s going on?” 

The truth burned in her throat. She wanted to tell her, confide in her. But… but how do you tell your best friend your life had all but ended, and there was nothing you could do about it?

Her blonde friend would do something stupid, she was sure of it. She’d write a letter to her parents herself, insist on making plans to run away, challenge her father to a duel… she just didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand. 

So she decided to bend the truth. Just enough. 

“My parents came to talk to me,” she said. Constance’s eyes widened. In their years of friendship, she’d never met her parents—she was very careful to avoid that, given they would have been extremely upset about Constance’s blood status. 

“They were here? They came all the way to Hogwarts? What for?”

“They… they wanted to talk about my… future. My father doesn’t really want me to have a career or anything—”

Constance scoffed. “Doesn’t want you to have a career? With your skill? What’s he on about?”

“He just wants me to settle down with… with someone and produce an heir,” she said. “That’s how things are done in some pureblood families, like mine. He came to insist I stop arguing and follow the tradition.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Constance said. “You told him off, didn’t you?”

She stayed quiet for a moment. “I told him what I needed to.” 

Her friend’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you just going to roll over and play dead just because he tells you to?”

Y/N sighed. This was exactly why she couldn’t tell her everything. “It means it’s a lot more delicate that you realize, Constance. I’m doing what I can. Trust me.” Her voice was firm, but Constance only frowned deeper. 

“And where were you after that?” Constance demanded. 

“Taking some time to clear my head,” she said simply. 

“Alone?”

“Yes.” 

Constance stared her in the eyes, and she stared right back, hoping she couldn’t see any lie that might show itself there. 

“And what does any of this have to do with Gaunt?”

She willed her face to remain straight. “Nothing.”

Constance didn’t believe her. It was obvious in the way she scrunched up her nose, the way her eyes narrowed. But Y/N held firm, making it clear she wasn’t going to give anything else up. 

“Fine,” Constance said softly. “We should get to bed. It’s late.” 

Without another word, Constance stood up and left for their dorm, and Y/N let her careful demeanor collapse. She’d get over this, she told herself. There were just some things she couldn’t understand. Things she didn’t ever want her friend to understand. 

She got up and walked to her bed, collapsing onto it without bothering to change out of her robes. 

It would be fine. 

-

The next morning, though a little tense, passed without much incident. Constance was a bit short in her replies, but they still ate breakfast together and walked to class just as they normally did. Y/N was feeling much better about the two of them getting past this by the time the two separated for classes. She headed off to Ancient Runes, her favorite subject, while Constance went back to the common room for her free period. 

After being given the task of writing a ten inch essay on a particular artifact, Y/N went back to her dorm to see Constance. She opened the door, knowing Constance was on the other side. 

“Blimey, as much as I love Ancient Runes, it keeps me too busy. If I wasn’t going into the department of—”

She froze, taking in the hard expression on Constance’s face. She had a letter clutched tightly in her hand, and Y/N would recognize the wax seal anywhere, even after it had been broken

“Where… where did you get that?” she said softly, straightening. 

“Your owl dropped it on your bed,” Constance answered, taking a step closer to her. “It’s from your parents.”

She ripped the letter from her friend’s hand, opening and unfolding it quickly. A quick scan over the words confirmed her worst fears—it was more threats from her father, reiterating his visit the day before and telling her that she should consider herself lucky a family like the Gaunts would allow her to join them. 

“You stole it and read it?” she asked, looking back up to her friend, voice shaking with barely controlled anger.

“I knew you weren’t telling me everything,” Constance said. 

“What gave you the right to—”

“I’ve been worried about you,” Constance interrupted. “You haven’t been yourself, and I knew it had something to do with Gaunt. Why on earth didn’t you tell me?”

“This is my problem,” she said, voice trembling. “I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

“The way that letter sounded, you’re not fighting at all.” 

“You don’t—”

“It’s too bad your parents aren’t still here, I would’ve given them a piece of my mind just like I did Gaunt.”

It was like a bucket of ice water had been poured over her, a chill striking her body. “You… you talked to Ominis?”

Constance frowned. “What was I supposed to do? Let him stake his claim over my best friend with no consequences?”

“What did you say to him?” she demanded.

Constance narrowed her eyes. “Nothing you wouldn’t have said.”

Her heart dropped. The girl Constance knew would have said horrible things. Hurtful things. Things that weren’t true in the slightest. She’d fed her friend years and years worth of complaints and rumors, taking out the anger and resentment of the life she was forced to live on a boy she never even knew. She’d said enough of those things to his face already, but that had been just scratching the surface. If Constance had repeated a fraction of what she’d told her over the years…

She turned toward the door, determined to set things right as soon as possible. But a hard grip on her arm tugged her back, and she whipped back around to face Constance with a glare. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Constance asked. 

“To apologize to Ominis.”

Her friend’s mouth fell open before contorting to an absolutely furious expression. “You’re apologizing to him? Isn’t it me you’ve been lying to this whole time?”

“You don’t understand!” she spat out, retching her arm free from the blonde’s hold. “Things are different. He’s different, I was wrong—”

“Does he have you under the Imperius Curse?” Constance said sharply. “Because last I checked, you hated him.”

Her jaw dropped at the accusation, but Constance kept going. 

“Last I checked, you hated your parents and the things they stood for. Now here you are, off to marry Ominis Gaunt without a complaint, like the obedient daughter you used to despise.” 

Constance didn’t know, she tried to remind herself. She didn’t know the first thing about playing with fire. Of walking on embers and trying not to be burned. She didn’t know how it felt to be backed into a corner when the world caught fire around her. She didn’t know a life of fear. 

“You don’t know anything,” she hissed. She didn’t even catch a glimpse at the way Constance’s face fell as she turned heel and fled from the room. 

The letter was still gripped in her hand, but she hardly noticed as she left the common room, her soul focus on finding the one soul that knew anything of burning houses and life breathing smoke. 

She had to find him. Had to tell him what Constance said wasn’t true, that God, she was wrong, she was so wrong, please I need someone to burn with—

But finding him was proving to be much harder than she would have liked. It was possible that he was somewhere she couldn’t go—like the Slytherin common room. But she asked a few Slytherin students, who looked at her strangely as they heard the frantic tone of her voice, and confirmed that he hadn’t gone up there after class. 

Just before dinner she realized what an idiot she’d been. The Undercoft, of course. As students rushed toward the Great Hall, she moved against the flow to the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower. 

And finally, she spotted him. 

“Ominis!” she called out, rushing to him. He hadn’t entered the Undercoft—not yet—but he had been heading towards it. He turned around, the wand in his hand glowing with it’s soft red light. 

“Ominis, I’ve been trying to find, you I’m so—”

“Has it occurred to you I didn’t want to be found?” he spat out, his tone bitter. 

She stopped in her tracks. “I… I needed to talk to you.”

“I think you’re friend did quite enough talking,” he seethed, turning toward the Undercroft once more. 

She reached out, trying to grab his wrist, but he shook her off. His face was twisted in anger—in pain. 

God, what had she done?

“What?” he growled out. “What more could you possibly have to add to her words?”

“Nothing,” she breathed out. “Do you think I asked her to say those things?”

“It seems you didn’t have to,” he said quietly. 

Tears began to blur her vision. He was slipping away—there was nothing she could do. “Ominis,” she begged. “Ominis, please.”

“I shouldn’t have let you in,” he said softly, turning to leave once more. “I should never have let you in.”

And then he was gone, leaving her alone with tears streaming down her face. 

-

She skipped dinner for the second night in a row. She felt like a ghost as she floated through the halls, trying to be numb to all that had happened. But it was impossible—it wasn’t long until it hit her full force and she had to stop walking, sitting on a bench in the courtyard she’d wandered into. The cool of the evening air helped her to breathe, but it still didn’t help much. 

That’s when it occurred to her that she was completely and utterly on her own. 

She hadn’t felt like this since she was a child, hiding away in the manor when Diane, the one servant who had ever treated her with kindness, left for a week’s time to help her dying mother. She remembered curling up against a wall, trying to blend in to the marble and telling herself that if she could just survive the week, she’d be alright. 

But there was no end to the loneliness this time around. No one would be coming back. She’d ruined all of it. 

It was amazing, really, how she had destroyed everything in one fell swoop. She should try to fix things with Constance, but she doubted an apology would settle this so easily. She’d made a choice when she chased after Ominis—one that surely let her friend assume where her loyalties lied. She’d chosen him, not her. Not her best friend who had sat by her side for nearly seven years. 

Yet she couldn’t find it in herself to regret that choice. Not entirely. 

The outcome had been her worst nightmare; but how could she have just let Ominis think a word of what was said was what she thought of him? 

She buried her head in her hands as she thought about him, her heart aching. They had just become friends. Just barely started to build that trust, to acknowledge the understanding they had with one another. 

And now it was gone. 

The loss of that possibility made new tears flow as she sat there, regret tainting her every thought. How could she have made so many mistakes to lead to this?

Time passed by, and she still sat there, unsure of where else to go. She couldn’t go back to her common room. If she didn’t start yelling at her, Constance would likely just ignore her, and both of those options sounded like torture. The only other place she knew would grant her solitude was obviously not an option, as it was already occupied by the person who had showed it to her. 

So she sat there, waiting for some prefect or professor to come by and give her detention as curfew came and went. She couldn’t find it in herself to care. 

She thought that was exactly what happened when a figure appeared in the shadows, stopping quickly as it spotted her. It approached, and suddenly there was Sebastian Sallow—someone she knew for certain was not a prefect. 

He frowned at her. She was sure she looked a mess—puffy eyes rimmed with red, hair mussed from running her hands through it. Still, she stared up at him, daring him to question her about it. He was Ominis’s friend. Surely he knew why his friend was off brooding somewhere, and would have a word or two to say about it, just like Constance had. 

But instead, his expression softened and he tilted his head. “Are you alright?” 

The tension in her shoulders released a bit, her preparations for being scolded melting away. “I… I’m fine,” she said softly. Yeah right. “Shouldn’t you be off with… with Ominis?” 

The brunette pressed his lips together before coming to sit on the bench beside her. “That’s where I was heading. I wanted to give him some alone time to cool down after things with Constance… I’m guessing you ran into him in the meantime?” 

She hung her head. “I went to try to apologize. He didn’t—well, he didn’t really let me.” She glanced up at him. “Is he alright?”

Sebastian chuckled. “He’s left you crying like this and you’re asking if he’s ok?” 

“But it’s all my fault,” she pressed. 

“Last I checked it was Constance who was telling him off, not you.”

“She was repeating things I’d told her,” she insisted. “And she wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t lied to her about—about—”

“The engagement?” Sebastian finished. 

She gaped up at him. “Did she tell you?” God, was she out there telling the whole school, on top of the damage she’d already done?

“No,” Sebastian said. “Ominis told me. I was with him when he got that first letter. I’ve always known.” 

She let out a deep breath. At least there weren’t rumors being spread around—yet. 

Sebastian’s brows furrowed. “You never told her?” 

She shook her head softly. “You saw how she reacted tonight. She’s always insisted in trying to take things into her own hands, even when she’ll do more damage than good.” 

“How did she find out?” 

She sighed, passing him the crumpled letter that she’d still held through it all. Sebastian glanced over it as she spoke. “She stole it off my bed and read it while I was in class. She must have found Ominis in that time, too. We… we fought when I realized what she’d done.” 

“Is that why you’re out here?” 

A small nod was all she could muster as her eyes tears up once again. “I can’t face her right now,” she mumbled. “I can’t. I don’t know where to go.” 

Sebastian sat there for a second, clearly thinking. “Ominis showed you the Undercroft last night, didn’t he?” he said. 

“He told you that?” 

“Yeah. Wanted to give me a heads up in case you showed up there.”

“Doesn’t really matter or not if he showed me,” she muttered. “He’s there right now. I can’t really face him, either.” 

“Look,” Sebastian said. “I’ll talk to him tonight and get him up to our common room. Then you can stay the night in there.” 

Her head shot up as she stared at him. “You’d do that for me?” 

He nodded. “This whole thing is a mess. You’ve been hurt as much as anyone. Least I can do is help you get a good night’s sleep somewhere you can’t get detention.” He seemed to hesitate a moment before speaking. “The fact that Ominis ever showed you the Undercroft… he doesn’t trust easy. When he’s afraid of getting hurt, he throws up his walls. He says things he doesn’t mean. He’s always been that way.” 

She stayed quiet, listening to him. 

“He’ll come around. If he’s stuck by me for this long, after all the idiotic things I’ve done, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He offered her a small smile. “Give me a few minutes. There’s blankets in the cabinet to the left once you get in there. I’ll go talk to him.”

“I—” She found herself getting choked up at his kindness. Sebastian had always been nice, as far as Syltherins went, but she’d never thought it would extend to her at a time like this. “Thank you, Sebastian. Ominis is lucky to have a friend like you.”

He bumped his shoulder with hers before he stood up. “He’s not the only one. I trust Ominis’s judgment. If he’s taken a shine to you, I’m sure I will, too.”

She gave him a small smile. 

He began to retreat from the courtyard before looking back. “Remember, cabinet—”

“To the left,” she finished. “I’ve got it.” 

The silence seemed louder with him gone, and her stomach churned in anxiety as she waited. Sebastian had been friends with Ominis for years—was he right? Would this all find a way to work out? She hoped so. 

It was a good half an hour before she finally stood, legs stiff from staying in one spot for so long. The Undercroft was empty, just as Sebastian promised it would be. She was grateful all over again as she pulled the blankets from the cupboard, laying them out and curling up in their warmth. 

Sleep was slow in coming as the events of the last two days replayed painfully in her head. She wasn’t sure how she would mend things with Constance. Or if her newly formed friendships with Ominis and Sebastian would survive. She wasn’t sure of anything, and it scared her. 

What scared her most was the small bit of hope trying to ignite itself in her chest. 

-

Chapter Six

A/N: oops :)

TAGLIST:

@skarathewitch @cherryflavoredcoke @phoenix666stuff @wt-fxck @shameless0shenanigans @fitzs-trained-monkey @mxmia @vee-mage

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt safety #ominis x mc #ominis x you #ominis gaunt fanfiction #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt imagine

[stray-kaz]

Caught : a Kaz Brekker x f!reader Magpie verse

Summary: You end up on the same heist, Kaz for a valuable gold figurine and you for world renowned necklaces. You get in each other’s way on purpose. Capture is inevitable.

This sprouted from the seed of your idea, @writingmysanity​. Hope it does justice.

During the day hours, Ketterdam was grey and dim to begin with, but at night, blackness sucked all the light away until there was nothing left and only the very stupid and very depraved were out in the dark. And the bastard of the Barrel and his Magpie. 

Kaz watched with stunned irritation as you waltzed through an open gate, the faded glare of a streetlamp briefly lighting up your face, black and white mask in position, smudged kohl undoubtedly hidden underneath.

“What are you doing here?” he muttered under his breath.

Unaware that Kaz Brekker had seen you enter the property, you slipped in through a window that had been left ajar, just enough to squeeze through. The image of what you were after was tucked into your back pocket, but you didn’t need to look again to remember what it looked like. A set of three priceless necklaces, one laced with rubies, the second with diamonds, the last with blue opals.

You had just reached the stairs when you heard the front door snick closed, the faintest sound and yet it reached your ears nonetheless. You dove up the staircase, seeking the shadows and the protection they brought, as quiet, weighted footsteps came along the corridor towards you. Footsteps and the consistent, methodical thump of a wooden cane.

You sighed, rolled your eyes and turned with arms folded to stare down at Kaz Brekker as he stood gazing up at you.

“Well, well, well” you mused. “If it isn’t the lead Crow. What are you up to in these here parts?”

“Same thing you are, I imagine” he rasped. 

You shook your head at him.

“I doubt it, Kaz” you said. 

He raised a single eyebrow and said nothing, drawing it out of you.

“My client relies on my reliability and subtlety” you told him. “She wouldn’t double hire, not when the first hire is me.”

“You seem oddly confident in yourself, considering the last time we crossed paths, you were all but dead, Magpie.”

You shrugged.

“Maybe I’m confident because I can run.”

And with that, you turned tail and sprinted on silent feet up the stairs, forcing Kaz to watch your lithe form disappear into the inky shadows. He hastily cursed your name, even as his heartbeat thumped a bass harmony he hadn’t known before. He knew that his target was upstairs, so he started uneasily after you, keeping the cane as quiet on the steps as possible.

You arrived at the door you wanted, the door that opened on to a lushly furnished woman’s bedroom, stocked on floor to ceiling shelves with all manner of jewellery and expensive knickknacks. You had barely brushed the polished doorknob with your fingertips when your feet were knocked out from under you and you slammed onto the floor, a pain shooting up your nose that had you shaking your head to clear away the silver stars.

You gritted your teeth and pushed yourself up off the floor, agony spreading from your nose and along your cheekbones. You turned slowly to face Kaz, who was barely disguising a smirk as a frown. He was still holding the cane aloft, gloved fingers secured tight around the plain end.

“Did you just trip me?” you asked icily, hissing through your teeth.

Kaz shrugged.

“If I did, Mags?”

You glowered at him and jabbed a finger further down the hallway.

“These merchers are light sleepers!” you whispered furiously. “Don’t be an idiot!”

“Don’t fall over.”

You rolled your eyes and fought the urge to groan aloud, not least because his infuriating smirk was doing something hot to your insides. Jackass that he was being, he looked good doing it.

“Don’t fall over!” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes all over again.

You pivoted back to face the door and turned the knob, sneaking in through the gap and leaving it open at your back. Kaz slipped inside behind you, cane heavy in his hand. It was likely, he supposed, that the small gold figurine he was after was also in this room somewhere.

You worked your way around the room, eyeing each of the treasures until you found what you were looking for: a velvet coated square box with three mechanised levels. While Kaz was searching for his trinket, you circled around behind him, pretending to still look around the bedroom for something else. You hummed distractingly for a few moments, then lunged forward on soft feet and pushed Kaz in the middle of his back with the velvet box, just hard enough to knock him off balance.

Kaz stumbled forward against one of the shelves and it wobbled, shook, then rained gold and valuables down on his head. The figurine he was hunting flashed past his face before it was lost in the growing glittering melee on the carpet. He spun to find you in the shattering chaos, fuming, only to see you standing, gobsmacked, in the centre of the room, as if you were as shocked by what had just happened as he was.

Your eyes were wide in the mask holes, your mouth open and ears ringing. There was no way the house occupants hadn’t heard that.

As if on cue, two sets of footsteps pounded into the corridor and you instinctively inched closer to Kaz, the velvet box now lying haphazardly on its side next to the foot of the shelf. Half hiding behind Kaz, you raised empty hands to the doorway as a middle aged man and woman rushed through it, the man hefting a shotgun.

Kaz sighed and shifted fully in front of you.

“Evening, sir, ma’am” he said politely, nodding in their direction. “I would just like to say this isn’t what it looks like -”

He didn’t get to say anything else before the butt of the shotgun cracked down on his forehead.

Kaz woke with his head in your lap and his hands cuffed in front of him. You had been idly ruffling his hair, your own wrists clasped together. You felt him stiffen, but he said nothing as he rolled away onto his knees, wincing at the throb in his sore leg.

“Any idea how to get out of these?” you asked dryly, lifting your shackled hands so he could see.

He nodded, blue eyes hooded.

“Yes.”

It took him fewer than sixty seconds to break out of the cuffs and then even less to free you also.

“I’m sorry -” you started, but Kaz held up a hand, shaking his head.

“Don’t” he said firmly. “Apologies are for those too weak to stand up for their actions.”

You stared at him and then clambered to your feet, shaking out the red ache in your wrists. You pointed loosely to a small door half hidden in the corner of the room you had been locked inside.

“That leads out onto the street” you said quietly. “Let’s go.”

Kaz stared back at you until you glanced uncomfortably away. He knew the door exited onto the dark street, because he had memorised the building’s blueprints, but he would bet the Crow Club that you didn’t have any blueprints. So how did you know about the door?

He picked the rickety lock in silence and followed you outside, letting the door rock back into place behind him. He had expected you to leave fast, but instead you were waiting for him, right hand buried in the pocket of your tight jacket. You withdrew it and he tensed, but recovered in time to catch the slender gold figurine you tossed to him. He looked down at it and then back at you, quiet.

You smiled and shrugged in answer to his unasked question.

“Maybe apologies are for the weak, but recompense isn’t. I’m not sorry, Kaz.”

He watched you turn your back on him and walk away down the nighttime street, murmuring something quiet to himself so you couldn’t hear.

“I’m not sorry either, Magpie.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x female reader #liss writes #shadow and bone fic #soc fic #six of crows #magpie

[amarionetista]

Melody of shadows

The music filling the hall was truly pleasant, a melody played on wind instruments accompanied by meticulous bell beats. Carmilla watched with great admiration as all the other Overlords conversed, laughed, and danced together in the beautifully decorated hall. She wouldn't say it to Velvet, especially knowing her proud nature, but she had truly made everything beautiful.

She could see Zestial cheerfully pouring himself a glass of wine as Alastor said something and, with a nod, pointed towards Vox. The other Overlord almost dropped the glass he was holding, imagining what the radio demon could be saying about him. Valentino beside him just laughing at the whole scene. This made her roll her eyes.

"If you keep staring, you'll end up falling right onto the dance floor, dear," Velvet said. Velvet was wearing a short black strapless dress, her hair tied in a long ponytail cascading down her back like a waterfall.

"It's amazing that everyone has a moment when they're not fighting or trying to kill each other," Velvet laughed, leaning against one of the columns next to Carmilla.

"Vox isn't so bad once you get to know him."

"Do you really believe that?" Carmilla's smirk made Velvet pretend to think about it.

"Okay," she shrugged. "He's still an asshole."

Carmilla approached Velvet, the shorter Overlord looking at her with bubbling satisfaction, as Carmilla's dress had been designed by Velvet especially for her. Velvet looked at her with a confident smile, like a proud artist admiring their work, but Carmilla could see there was something more, a hidden desire, behind Velvet's smile.

Carmilla brought their faces close, perhaps less than an inch was the last distance separating them. Velvet smiled, more than satisfied with the situation. Carmilla could already feel their lips merging, that is, before Velvet abruptly pulled away and looked down at the dance floor.

"Oh, for Satan's sake! I can't believe it."

When Carmilla saw what was so strange, she saw Vox being held back by Valentino, whose expression of impatience was visible even behind his large glasses. Vox looked like an animal trying with all its might to break free from the restraints to go after Alastor, who laughed loudly at Vox's situation, flipping him off. Carmilla sighed, almost forgetting her slight disappointment from moments ago.

Carmilla noticed when Velvet took her hand, watching with satisfaction as Velvet brought her closer and kissed her, other small kisses being distributed between Carmilla's fingers. Their intertwined fingers were a sight that Carmilla saw as a point of calmness amidst that hell.

On the dance floor, Rosie and Alastor became the owners of the place. An elegant dance with confident steps, as if they had created the steps themselves.

"Wouldn't you like to try?" Velvet asked, and Carmilla let herself be guided.

They moved away from the brightest part and let the music guide them. As Velvet thought, Carmilla was an exquisite dancer, each step taken lightly.

Their bodies pressed against each other were making Velvet forget that there were other people around. She could easily believe that hell was a land where only they existed.

"Despite Vox being a dick," Velvet commented when the music ended. "I still wish this could last forever."

Carmilla brought Velvet closer to her, it had become such a natural movement and yet it didn't seem close enough.

Velvet returned the kiss instantly. Her arms crossed around Carmilla's neck trying to maintain that closeness for eternity.

Carmilla felt Velvet's body shiver when her hands moved from her back to her waist and then to Velvet's bare thighs.

"We can make it last forever."

#carmilla carmine #Carmevelt #velvet x carmilla #velvet hazbin hotel #carmilla hazbin hotel #carmilla carmine hazbin hotel #Carmilla x Velvet #também postado no spirit/AO3

[reborrowing]

a mouse in the basement - part 1/?

sorry for starting 546 stories instead of finishing things. kind of. this isn't as writery for me to work on. chapters linked in my pinned

David has been imprisoned. He's not sure where, he's not sure why, but he has no chance of freeing himself. Except now he's not quite alone. Kikitok links are here, if you want to try and puzzle out what the borrower character is saying throughout (more relevant later, honestly) word count: ~800 content: kidnapping & captivity, blood/injury, restraints, ~language barrier~ kind of a disclaimer note that arguably this should go on my whump blog instead of here, thematically speaking. But the point is more to flex my conlang (even if that's not yet obvious in this piece) and this blog is where I've been putting Kíkítok. I'm not really including particularly graphic violence or torture etc anyway

The only things to do in the basement were sleep and wonder why he’d been brought here. David was tired of both. The first few days, he had wrestled with the chain around his ankles and the ties around his wrist. He’d resigned himself to the aches of having his arms pinned behind his back for hours. He’d waddled around the perimeter in search of an escape. He hadn’t found one. He hadn’t even found a reason why he was here.

He didn’t think he was important enough to warrant a ransom and whoever was holding him down here only bothered to acknowledge him for about forty-five minutes per day. That was only to keep him fed. He imagined all kinds of horrible scenarios about being sold and enslaved or killed off for his organs, but he’d been down here for weeks. He didn’t have dignity but he wasn't really being humiliated either. Nothing happened, he was just locked in this crushing, monotonous isolation.

David slipped back into consciousness and stared up at the thin window on the far wall. It was still dark out. He hummed to himself, imagining words he couldn’t form through the duct tape over his mouth.

Something fell past the window.

It was such a brief flash that in any other context, if there was anything else happening, David wouldn’t have even noticed it. Something small and metal plinked across the floor. After several days of pretending to watch paint dry for entertainment, it may as well have been a fireworks show.

He didn’t waste the energy to stand and shuffled across the basement on his knees, chains clattering behind him. On the floor, almost glittering in the moonlight, was a thumbtack that hadn’t been there before. David hobbled forward towards it, trying to imagine something he could do with it. It was the only sharp thing he’d found down here and he really wanted it to be useful in some way, but it was too short to pick his cuffs or the locks around his ankles, even if he had the dexterity to try. He left it where it lay.

Another flash of movement drew his eyes to a small shadow along the wall.

Mouse, he thought at first, then, what the hell?!

The creature there was mouse-sized, as they hunched against the wall it was clear they had a perfectly humanoid shape, even covered up in a tiny gray dress. It was just that they couldn’t be more than a few inches tall. Tiny black eyes glittered up from underneath a miniature hood.

Is this real? Did the man upstairs do this to you? Is this what I’m here for?

They stared at each other for several seconds, both looking terrified. The creature—person?—took several steps to the right to start looking for an escape. David wished she would find one, but knew there was no way out but up, even for a mouse.

“Ah-I’m sorry. Pease, don’t hurt me,” the tiny thing gasped.

David shook his head no, eyes wide. He automatically started to protest that he would ever do such a thing but the duct tape over his mouth caught the words before they could get out. All he could do was stare at the poor thing.

Whatever she was, her situation was at least as bad as David’s, probably worse. Her skirt and her coat, which was fastened with a single button nearly the size of her head, were both dripping wet. She clutched at her side as if in pain and her already tiny steps were slowed by a severe limp.

David sat down and tried to look as harmless as possible (he felt most of this had already been done for him, what with the restraints). He wished he could do more to try and calm the woman's nerves. Communication was next to impossible with both hands and tongue held back. He nodded his head towards himself in a “come here” gesture that was much vaguer than he’d like.

The little woman shook her head and continued her hobbling retreat.

David leaned forward and tried again. You’re freezing, he thought as he watched her squeeze himself behind a table leg and hunker down. The cement floors would only make the cold worse. He mimed shivering as best as he could with his arms behind his back and nodded towards her, then stopped as he nodded back toward himself. Let me help you.

“I’m sorry, piyískasara wun. I’m sorry.”

David furrowed his brow as he tried to parse what the woman said before registering it as another language. He leaned back and sighed.

He refused to let the little stranger die. If he couldn’t help directly, he could still share. The shitty camping cot he’d been allowed had come with an equally shitty fleece blanket, the sort you leave in the closet for decades. Slowly and awkwardly, he kicked it across the room. It was thin and hardly any comfort to David, but it would be more than excessive for the mouse-woman on the other side of the room, presuming she was real.

#gt #g/t #giant tiny #g/t writing #gt writing #giant/tiny #borrowers #my writing #kíkítok #a mouse in the basement

[timetoeatthebread-blog]

Aphelios x Reader - Dreaming of You. (Part 2)

(yes the silver eye color is a plot device you'll see)

(Thanks to a redditor I was able to collect more information on the noctum flower. Here is a link: https://www.reddit.com/r/loreofruneterra/s/Y7rq8uEhmG)

Oh, well. You could probably ask Alune later. You doubt that Aphelios would speak to you, even if the noctum poison wore off.  

Checking on the fish, you noticed that they were almost done. They were impaled on two sticks and the sticks were partially buried in the ground, so they didn't need to be constantly watched. As you crouched beside the fire, you enjoyed its warmth it provided. The flames were trying to lick at the fish, trying to burn them. But the attempts were futile, as the fish were too much out of reach of the flames. Soon, you deemed the fish done and you picked up the first stick.  

Deciding to pass the food to Aphelios first, you walked up to him as he was resting with his eyes closed, still leaning against the tree, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted ever so slightly to the side. His black hair fell to his left, where he tilted his head. His hair was slightly longer on the left compared to his right side. With the hair temporary out of the way, the crescent drawing of the moon was fully visible. He was partially hidden from the sun, the tree casting a shadow over him, but not fully.  

"You should eat, Aphelios, the fish is done." 

He opened his eyes, two black orbs stared back into your silver ones. His gloved hand reached out towards the stick you were passing him and all he offered was a nod as a thank you, not that you minded. Then, you took your own fish and started eating it and enjoying the fire, the slow cracking of the wood had a calming effect. Soon, after eating, you threw a quick glance towards Aphelios and thanked him for caching the fish and starting the fire. It was a good thing you knew the lore, otherwise you were pretty sure you would have become offended and thought that he is mute or ignores you.  

As you were getting ready to rest, you noticed something strange. It was almost like a soft current made out of pallid mist and it was showing you the way. You stood up and made a few steps in the direction, not noticing that Aphelios was keeping an eye on you as soon as he noticed you walking further and further away from the camp. The thinly veiled mist was gravitating towards the forest softly, almost as if showing you the way. You were deep in thought as you followed the mist and stumbled upon a cave.  

The darkness seemed almost welcoming as you stepped deeper into the cave. Soon, soft trickling of the water could be heard coming from somewhere, but you didn't pay much attention. Touching the side of the rough and sharp wall, you gradually made your way downwards the cave, vision becoming darker with each step. With each step as the cave became darker, the mist seemed to become more visible and thicker, almost as if leading you to something greater than you would have ever imagined.  

The trickling of the water became louder the closer you got to the source, which was located at the end of the cave. There were luminescent drawings on the wall, and you recognized the symbols to be drawn by a Lunari, there was no mistaking it. You brought your hand closer to the symbol of the moon and touched it, the hard surface of the wall so hard and sharp that you didn't notice it when it prickled your finger. As if in a trance, you ignored the pain and continued to touch the markings and tried to analyze them, not noticing your hand gathering more cuts the more you touched the wall. The pain was basically nonexistent at this point. Where you touched, blood could be found on the inscriptions, silver mixing with red.  

When you touched the last engraving, a hidden path has appeared to your right. Although you didn't understand much of the situation or the signs on the wall, the mist was telling you to go inside. It sounded like the source of the noise of the water was coming from the hidden path. As you ventured deeper, you finally noticed two streams, one on each side of the wall. Cyan flowers grew under the water, their buds closed off, but still gave off a delicate light. However, there was no sweet smell in the air. Instead, the air was cold and refreshing. 

At the end, the two streams connected and created a large pond, with more flowers pooling inside. What was the most interesting, however, was that on the flowerbed, in the water, lay two shuang yue blades, made out of moonstone and moonsilver.  

You carefully reached into the water with your hurt hand, water mixing with the leftover blood. Then, completely by mistake, your open palm brushed against one of the flowers, the mucus from the flower touching you. Your mind was screaming in pain as you reached for one of the blades, tears running down your cheeks from the agony. As if controlled by a higher power, you couldn't make a sound. But that didn't stop your body from being honest. Your hand trembled so much that you accidentally cut yourself again, this time with the blade. At that point, your hand was hurting so much that it felt numb. With the other hand, you reached for the second blade, inspecting both blades next to each other, now out of the water. Tears clouded your vision as you blinked rapidly, clearing your vision as a result.  

They looked exactly the same, they were twin blades. The engravings were the same as the ones on the wall in the cave and you didn't know what it all meant. But you stood up, your expression pained, with tears still gathering at the corners of your eyes. But you couldn't say anything, feeling dizzy as blood tenderly started to decorate the blade you were holding in your hurt hand. It piled together in one place before a blood drop was created, and then gingerly ran down the blade, before falling off and landing on the stone floor. 

You breathed heavily as you tried to get everything under control, trying to calm down and reclaim control over your own body. But it was hard, almost impossible. Lifting up your gaze, you finally noticed Aphelios, observing your form not too far away. "A-aphelios? What are you doing here?" You tried to say his name, but your voice cracked at the beginning, the pain stil existent. The numbing was wearing off and it seemed like now was the begining of true suffering.  

It took everything in your will not to scream at the pain you felt as you made your way towards Aphelios, your eyes looking into his. He looked at your face for a few seconds longer, his expression unreadable as he changed his focus to the blade in your hurt hand. Taking your hand, he glanced again at the wound, gaze focused as he took the blade out of your hand gently.  

Then, he traced his thumb starting from your wrist and over the palm of your hand, making you instinctively open your palm. After you opened your palm, he properly grabbed the underside of your hand and spread your hand some more, getting a good look at the cuts you have created in your trance. You held your breath as you stared at his face but were snapped out of it when he grabbed your wrist instead, holding it firmly as he dragged you out of the cave. 

No words came to your mind as you followed after him, observing his behavior. Although his hand was gloved, it still gave off warmth as he dragged you through the forest floor. It was eerily quiet, there were no animals and even the wind barely made any sound while gliding between the leaves of the trees.  

Aphelios continued to look ahead as he walked, sometimes glancing at your form to make sure you were alright. 

#aphelios x reader #aphelios #league of legends x reader #lol x reader #lol aphelios #lol fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

[gretavanfleetposts]

It's You and Me

Author's Note: Intermission from persuasion to bring you soft Jake smut inspired by the song we’re all listening to at the moment, Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush, so listen to that song while you read this and hopefully it just transports you lol (also this is unedited so I apologize for any mistakes! I wrote it very quickly and on a whim while I was supposed to be working, as one does)

Content Warnings: penetrative sex (18+ minors do not interact)

Summary: Jake can't sleep so the two of you take a drive.

Word Count: 1.5k

Music, drifting, floating through the darkness and resting upon your ears as you tumbled out of a dream. You’d recognize Jake’s fingers strumming his guitar anywhere, instantly.

You followed the sound through the darkness conjured up by the hour, 3am to be exact. And it led you, hand in hand, to where Jake sat in his home studio playing his acoustic guitar with no real intention, only that enough to keep his fingers busy and take his mind off his restlessness.

Padding gently through the doorway and leaning against the wooden frame, you stole his attention away from his guitar with your form.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You shook your head. “I don’t mind. I'd rather be awake with you than asleep alone.”

A warm smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of you, disheveled, having been pulled from your dreamlike state by the twang of his guitar.

"Come with me," he said in a quiet voice, almost a whisper, as he set his guitar down and met you in the doorway, taking your hand as he turned to leave with you trailing behind.

"Where are we going?"

"Wanna go for a drive."

It wasn't long after that you both found yourself in his car, driving along the dark, empty road with the radio telling tales of old 80s classics that you had begun to associate with nights like these. Restless nights were plenty with Jake and early morning drives were your favorite. Your own little tradition.

Music, now drifting through car speakers, softly, lazily as if the car itself were sleepy. One of Jake's hands gripped the wheel as the other grasped your thigh just below where the hem of your shorts fell, the passing street lamps the only light illuminating his hand digging into your skin.

You appreciated the dips in your plush skin created by his fingers through every ephemeral pass of golden light against a black background, the shadows of his fingertips dancing along with the fleeting glow of flickering bulbs.

Your eyes trailed up his arm extended out to you, following the veins flowing through his forearm like rivers squiggling lines of warmth along his skin, up to where his hair met his shoulder, cascading down into loose waves brought out by the humidity. Your eyes continued upward, following the line of his jaw along toward his lips, plush, pink, slightly parted as he mouthed along to a song, up the strong curve of his nose and up further along his forehead disappearing into his hair tousled off to the side in a messy part.

You watched as the same intermittent light danced across his face, creating long shadows down his cheekbones the way the stage lights often did when he was putting on a show. It was quieter now though, void of screaming fans and giant speakers. It was just the two of you and endless road.

"Stop staring," he whispered over to you with a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth, never taking his eyes off the road.

"No," you whispered back with a smile, still staring at his beauty with not a single ounce of shame.

He was breathtaking and part of you was afraid that if you turned away, you'd wake from whatever dream it was that you were clearly living, destined to live your life without him. You couldn't imagine it, couldn't bear it.

His hand clung harder to your thigh, his driving speeding up and increasing the frequency of the lights and trees zooming past. It was almost a strange feeling as you kept your eyes fixed on him as the world passed by all around you, like the two of you were there, frozen in time.

It was enticing, the thought of being frozen in time with him.

You recognized the turn the car made into an overlook, hanging over the city lights from a distance but still surrounded closely by trees and a dim, quiet ambiance. It was a secluded spot that you occasionally visited on drives like these, taking moments to stop and look and just be together in the dark, a beautiful view surrounding you on all sides.

His hand left your thigh momentarily to turn up the radio slightly before he turned toward you, leaning his body over the center console, and kissing you deeply, slowly, softly, until it was soft no longer, his tongue pushing past your lips with eagerness as you opened your mouth for him.

Limbs, clumsy, climbing to find him as you cross the barrier between you, separating you from his touch. It was hardly graceful as you took your seat on his lap, your thighs straddling his own as he laughed against your lips at the effort.

His tongue practically down your throat, his hands squeezing your ass, the radio crackling in the background, his erection pressed firmly between your thighs, a dizzying combination of sensations as you pulled him closer to you with a grip in his hair.

"We should move to the backseat," he breathed in between the work of his lips.

Far less graceful was the trip to the backseat as you maneuvered first and Jake practically fell against you. A flurry of clothes and bumping limbs against hard plastic doors and one another followed as giggling filled the car to the backdrop of Kate Bush making a deal with God, all the while the two of you making a silent deal with one another to drive away and escape every chance you had, just to be alone together. Just to do this.

Music, your own now, competing with the radio as he pushed inside of you with his pants barely pushed below his hips. Hardly tangible curses being swallowed by one another as his pace picked up a rhythm that matched the song playing on in the background.

"Fuck, you feel good," he panted against your neck as his hand swiped along the condensation of the window looking for purchase as steam filled the car with the close mingling of your bodies, both desperate for one another and dripping with lust, hot to the touch and never satiable.

The cool metal of the heavy necklaces slung around Jake’s neck resting now on your chest as he moved inside of you was a shocking sensation compared to the temperature of his skin against yours, searing and now wet with sweat and exertion.

“You fit me so perfectly,” he whispered. “Like you were made to take my cock. Like you were made for me.”

His words traveled through your body, igniting a flame in every single nerve, across every inch of your skin as you arched up into him, the angle of his hips driving his cock into toe-curling spots. Coming undone in the cramped space of his backseat, beneath his hands where you belonged, it was the only thing that would ever make perfect sense to you.

A cacophony of moans, a much more harmonious mixture of pleasure than you had ever experienced with anyone else, pulsed through the car as Jake pushed you both over the edge simultaneously.

Your hands held him close to you, letting you cling to him, unable and unwilling to let him go just then. It was just like before when you were afraid to wake up. Only this time the dream had drawn you even further in and you feared if you let him go, his warmth would forever evade you.

You were content to be there that way with him forever.

His hands reaching up to cradle your face, he left the taste of his skin on your lips as he pulled you into a searing kiss.

“It’s you and me; you know that, right?” he asked, a gentle whisper above the fading tempo of electronic drums and melancholy vocals.

You nodded, breathless, cocooned by his touch and his smell. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I could stay here forever with you.”

Exchanged glances as the road was once again ahead of you, your hand brought up to his lips as he placed a sweet kiss upon the back of it, smiles and giggles replacing the music. He would sleep well when you arrived back at home. And so would you.

#jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fluff

[dustdeepsea]

💌

Answering asks from this list <3

💌 Share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

I work on one thing at a time mostly (switching between writing and drawing) so I had to go into my abandoned drafts folder to bring you this stillborn creation. I don't know if I will ever continue it. Let me know what you think?

[WIP] sin eater (Durge [gn]/He Who Was)

Non-explicit snippet, but spoilers for the Durge storyline (Act 1 and 2)

The path through the endless night is winding, and their feet make little sound.

He Who Was is where they left him, speaking softly with his raven. His camp is a bubble of torchlight and stasis. The dead girl lies unburied on the hard ground, heaped unceremoniously to the side of the ritual circle, not yet beginning to decay.

His simmering gaze sweeps over them. “You return.”

They nod. The raven croaks a curse.

“I can see that there is something that troubles you terribly," he says, in that sing-song drawl, all mock concern. It makes their skin itch and their guts roil. “Something that stalks your nights and idle daydreams.”

He smiles at them, tilts his head like a winsome ingénue. The act is paper thin; they could pierce it with their ungloved fist. Yet, they allow him to continue. “I can help remove them. Those burdensome thoughts. These distractions.”

“Why would you even help me?”

The warm light kisses his skin, giving it false life. “Because you did so well with Madeline.” He crooks a finger. “Come closer, friend, and I will grant you a boon.”

They imagine how his eyes would taste—like ripe blackberries, plucked off the bush in late summer. They swallow down their bile, knowing it will only rear back up later, more defiant than before.

“All you need to do—is confess.”

They have only seen his kind’s magic work on the dead, but what are they besides cloaked in death, reeking of it, a walking charnel pit? They do not question the logic that it would work on them as well.

He Who Was stands in front of them. The flickering torch illuminates his visage, throws shadows on his chest beneath his open jacket, marble smooth and corpse pale.

He slides his thumb past their lips, onto their tongue, pressing down in the center of it. Their mouth fills with saliva, but they resist the temptation to bite down. Their teeth rest on his knuckles. A warning.

He lowers his arm with his hand still in their mouth, and it must be part of that same magic that guides them down to their knees, inexorably. They exhale through their nose, looking up at him and the cold, black holes of his eyes, the shadows crawling on his face. He Who Was smiles.

Putrid green light fills their vision, and they feel the Urge roar to life.

“Confess.”

Alfira’s face swims into view. A memory of the night when they held her by the waist, like a delicate flower on the cusp of blooming, and pulled off her petals, one by one. Perfume and pollen filling the air.

She loves me. She loves me not.

Her dress on the ground. Her bells on the ground. Her lungs and her spleen and her lovely spine, arranged in a pattern most pleasing to the eye.

She loves me.

Something close to hunger knifes through their belly. They keen bitterly, like a beast brought low. 

“Your latest display, but not your first or your last,” they hear, through the sickly sweet haze. “How will you plead?”

Guilty, sighs the thinking part of them. The Urge trashes and howls, held back by a taunt leash.

“Are you ready for your penance?”

#ask game #WIP #bg3 he who was #he who was #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #my writing

[bkglove]

Ratatouille pt 2

Ao3 wattpad

Early relationship with Bakugou- he has some quirk problems (pt 1)

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

You were standing next to Katsuki, not quite leaning into him as much as you'd naturally want to. Because standing around the kitchen island, waiting for the pizzas you had all made were your friends, and you didn’t want to be too PDA in front of them.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the cool marble countertop, probably getting some not fully wiped away flour onto your arms as you propped your head up, cheeks squished between your hands, your butt out, thigh still pressed against Katsuki's as you listened to Ashido ramble on. You were feeling fidgety for no reason, finger tapping against your cheek as you resisted the urge to shuffle around and change positions for the umpteenth time.

It wasn’t that the conversation was boring perse, you just accidentally zoned out a little while back and could not figure out what they were talking about now. It felt far too late to stop them and ask.

“And then, the fact that no one cares that she cheated, only that he did; which he didn’t even, still an asshole, but they were on a break, it’s only because they were best friends!” Ashido exclaimed. Kaminari and Kirishima nodded along vehemently.

“I don’t think people don’t care or think she wasn’t wrong but it was just less exciting than the other stuff going on for her character for everyone to freak out about,” Jirou said. You weren’t really sure if she was arguing or agreeing. This time, only Sero nodded along with her, with much less passion than the other two boys had.

You glance up at Katsuki to see if he had any opinions or any idea what they were possibly going on about. But it looked like he had completely zoned out. You were sure he was still at least partially listening he always was, even when he acted like he was paying no attention.

He looked pretty, well, he always looked pretty but somehow the fluorescent kitchen lights suited him. Catching the ends of his hair, making the spikey points look as soft as you know they are. The warm colour of the lights bounced off his skin so that it looked like he was giving off a warm glow of his own. The overhead light made his hair cast a shadow over his eyes that managed to make the deep red stand out more. The black hoodie he was wearing only made him look cozier and more inviting to you. Though you could imagine anyone else would call you crazy for ever using the word inviting to describe Bakugou Katsuki.

You couldn’t help it, really, as you stood back up straight and pressed your shoulder against his side to greedily steal some of that cozy warmth. He looked down at you when you did, his expression not really changing but you could read the almost imperceptible softening of his gaze. His lips twitched up just barely as you brought your hand up to rub circles on his back.

It was almost entirely mindless, honestly, that you slid your hand up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. His hair was soft, you liked playing with it, and you knew he liked when you did.

The action reminded you of what happened a few nights ago. You hadn’t brought it up again, yet. For the most part, things had gone back to normal. You hadn’t had any intense makeout sessions since, and he was maybe even a little less touchy than normal. Though, the latter observation was kind of a difficult one to be sure was true. You could have just been feeling extra touchy and overthinking it.

Was it a bad time to test it again? Yes. Did doing so make you a bad person? Debatable.

You don’t think about it really. You just take a small lock of his hair and give a curious little tug. His hands don’t light up but his eyes do.

“The fuck are you doing!” he screeched, stepping away from you and shaking his head to dislodge your hand.

Your friends all look over to the pair of you now.

You pull your hand back to cover your mouth as you tried to stifle your laughter. “I’m sorry, I'm sorry!”

So it wasn’t simple ratatouille mechanics. Maybe he had been too lost in thought for it to connect? Why had it happened before?  

“What’s going on?” Kirishima's question interrupted your thoughts.

“I do not consent to be a part of any weird couple-y shit you two get up to!” Kaminari exclaimed, crossing his arms.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry,” you respond between snickers as Katsuki’s glare went from you to them.

“Stop being cute and gross in front of us,” Ashido whined, “it’s not fair!”

“We're not cute!” Katsuki shouted, at the same time as you gathered yourself and said, “us? Gross? Never.”

You throw your arms up to try and give him a hug.

He stopped you, his hand holding you back by your forehead, but he was using a closed fist instead of an open palm again. That made you lose some of your joking mood. What was up with him?

“We don’t even need to find a new show to watch, we have these two,” Kyouka declared, you assume in reference to the earlier conversation.

“S’not my fault little chef's a fuckin’ weirdo,” Katsuki stated matter of factly as you kept your arms outstretched, waving toward him in a futile attempt to give a hug.

“A weirdo that you care for deeply.” You smile.

He scowled, not severe enough to show his gums so you know you're in the clear.

“No. I fuckin’ hate you.” But he let his hand fall, stuffing it into the pocket on his hoodie as you all but collapse into his side, and he doesn’t stop you from wrapping your arms around him.

You smile up at him, chin propped up against his shoulder before you finally turn back to look at your friends. You were greeted with a wide range of amusing emotions. Kirishima was grinning, Kaminari had his elbow shielding his eyes, his other hand up toward you two to add to him blocking himself from seeing, Ashido and Sero were both over dramatically gagging, and Kyouka had her head thrown back, looking at the ceiling, groaning.

“Sorry, what were you guys talking about?”

—---------

Later, when you were hanging out alone with Katsuki in your room, his back against your headboard listening to music, your head in his lap as you read your book, you were once again brought to the conclusion that something was wrong.

You’ve reached the end of a particularly long chapter and hadn’t once felt your boyfriend scratch your head or raise a hand to toy with the ends of your hair. You put your book down, leaving it tented on your chest as you look up. Katsuki’s head was back, looking up toward the ceiling so all you could see was the thick column of his neck and his sharp jawline, even more defined from the stretch.

Was he mad at you from before? He’d never been one to hide when he was angry, but this was weird.

You pouted. “Why aren’t you petting me?”

He slid one side of his headphones off his ear, slowly tilting his head down to look at you. “What, are you a dog?”

You swat his knee. “You know what I mean.”

He raised an eyebrow, that smirk you love to hate sliding into place, “that you're my bitch?”

“Katsuki,” you whine, putting your book to the side so you can turn over, sit up and rest your hands on his shoulders.

“Okay, what the fuck’s got you all riled up?” he concedes, fully pulling off his headphones, leaving them to rest around his neck.

“That’s what I'm asking you!”

“Yeah? Well, you’re doing a shit job of it.”

You pinch his shoulder he hisses and swats your hand away.

“Seriously, what’s up with you?”

“The fuck are you talking about?” His answer was nonchalant but he stopped meeting your gaze.

“You’re being weird with your hands,” you state, trying to move back into his line of sight.

“M’not!” he defended.

You raise your eyebrow. “Babe,” you say, slightly exasperated, sliding your hands up his shoulders to prove your point.

You didn’t get very far though, because the second you knocked his headphones off, his breath hitched, and then there was a quiet crackle-pop and he was instantly shrugging you off with an unnecessary growl.

“Stop that!”

“I didn’t even do anything that time!” You lean back, giving him space but maybe that was the wrong move because he used it to scooch off your bed.

“Yes you did!” His back was to you, his shoulders tensed, and his fists tightly drawn at his sides.

You felt your throat constrict, what had you done wrong? “Are you mad at me or something?”

You heard him suck in a breath, hold it, then release it in a frustrated puff. But he didn’t turn around. “I’m not fuckin' mad at you, dumbass.”

He said most things like he was angry so it shouldn’t have worried you but it did nothing to assure you, especially when he continued.

“I gotta go, got shit to do.” He walked out, not turning around, slamming your door behind him.

You sunk into your bed. He had never outright lied to you, sure he avoided certain questions, or talked around things but never straight up lied when you asked him something. That should have brought you some comfort but it didn’t. None of his body language had told you anything about what he was feeling other than anger or frustration.

You curled into yourself, the warm spot where he had been sitting getting cold way too fast. What had you possibly done?

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･*･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

pt 1 | pt 3(end)

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou #katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugou x y/n #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x y/n #mha fic #x reader #fluff

[gothvampkid]

The Spiral Slab ~A short horror story~

(Completed Version; originally written in 2016 in two drafts, revised in 2023)

...

The symbol hung high above him, above the doorway. The chunk of marble was engraved with black spirals, each varying in size. They were dancing all around one another, hovering close to the two largest of their kind. It was these two swirls which dominated over the marble slab, making the design unique, never once before created and never again attempted. The edges were jagged and uneven, yet it was clear the marble was carved with intent.

This is the symbol of my father, he thought. This is what I’ve been looking for.

He reached out to pull the aged symbol off its mantle, but it was too far to simply grab.

“Let go,” said a voice inside him. “Let go.”

He put focus into his hands with the only goal of obtaining the precious heirloom. In a few moments his fingers loosened, and the strain in his arms had vanished. He felt relaxed. The feeling continued to grow each second that passed. Finally he heard the splotch, and, as though granted with superhuman abilities, his hands disconnected from his arms, save for small tendril-like threads of flesh that kept the connection between body and mind. His hands reached up above and touched the marble slab. He made a firm grip onto the old symbol and gave it a slight yank.

It stayed in place, stuck on the wooden wall. He tried again to pull it off, but the old symbol gave no sign of budging. But in the third attempt, there was a crackling splinter from the wall. His father’s symbol had finally given way, and quickly but carefully he brought down the displaced clue onto the floor. He retracted his hands back into place once the piece of marble touched the floor, the tendrils receding back into his arms where they belonged. Splotch! They were back in place.

Now came the hard part. How would he sneak away with it?

He had to familiarize himself with his surroundings. It was an old home, and in this hallway, the moonlight shined through a single window, and beyond were the desperate reaches of black tree branches into the grey sky. The wooden structure was cramped, lacking air. But the unnerving part of it all was the darkness. The house was full of it, and if it was not for the little light of the window, the blackness would swallow him.

He had to be careful. This home no longer felt welcoming, especially at this hour. He stepped away from the doorway which mounted the spiral slab, and he began to listen. He thought he heard someone in the other room, but after a long pause of silence, he felt safe; and then he went back to pick the slab without the aid of his power, eager to take it to his room, and away from what he thought were his own nerves conjuring up a new lurking presence somewhere within the house.

That presence was in fact there from the moment the wall cracked and the slab was peeled away from its rightful place, but it was at first smaller than a pin needle, something so insignificant it was like to be a figment of his imagination. That unwelcoming presence was far away then, but with every heartbeat it came nearer and nearer. The presence was now on the same floor. No, it was in the other room, through the doorway of the spiral slab. He looked down at his feet where the moon illuminated the floorboards.

The moonlight will keep me safe, he thought. The window is still here.

Then he looked back up towards the doorway, becoming fully aware of his surroundings. The doorway had changed into something of a wall. A sheet of darkness blocked all view of the other room. A Shadow was waiting, he could feel it wanting to go beyond, gripping the edges of the room. His heartbeat rose with fright. What was it that stood a short distance away? He stayed still for what felt like an hour, though he knew it had only been a matter of minutes. Nothing stirred in the house during that time. Did the presence leave or was it waiting for him to make a wrong move? Either way, he could not remain there all night. They would return eventually. He looked down at the slab.

I need to get it out of here, now, he thought.

He bravely moved on to pick up the old symbol, but something had frozen him—the sound of a single footstep on the other side of the doorway.

The only way to get out was behind him, through a closed door, but it would make for a noisy escape. He had to act swift, grabbing the marble symbol and reaching the door in one swift motion. He thought carefully as he remained petrified, hoping that whatever it was behind the doorway could not read his thoughts. Keeping focus, he loosened his arms until his hands were ready to perform once more that superhuman ability.

Slowly his hands fell towards the floor with nothing but the thin stretches of flesh that binded them with the host. It would be over in a moment if he was too slow. The time to run was now.

He looked down at the symbol, his left hand’s fingers dangling just an inch away. He took one last look at the blackened doorway before he enacted his plan, and in the doorway he saw something odd. Faded shapes of two triangles were pointing towards the corners of the doorway. They grew larger as the circle they were attached onto came into focus. The three shapes became distinct from the darkness that birthed them, becoming more defined with every heartbeat. Soon he could see what the triangles really were—two horns. The circle that held them together was a head. His heart sank.

The creature’s face made itself visible as it crept horizontally towards him. He couldn’t move at the sight of its eyes, bulbous and white with tiny black beads in the middle. Its skin was pale flesh, throbbing with uneven patches of hair. Its nostrils were slits, and its mouth was half open. It curved enough to look as if the horned demon was smiling, and indeed it was when its sharp, grey tongue rolled down its chin.

And it continued moving closer in a terrible silence. Then it momentarily halted its advance, taking a brief look at the window. Its smile was hinting at something, something he had overlooked. The moonlight. It wasn’t enough to help him.

He heard the creature make another footstep into the moonlight, and everything happened so fast. The symbol falling, the window breaking, and the shriek that pierced his ears. The demon grabbed his arm and dug its nails deep into his bones. He kicked the creature’s mangled body before making one final move for the door. It was locked. He had been dead from the beginning. The moonlight could not save him, neither could his father’s symbol, which lay shattered on the wooden floor. The creature let out another blinding shriek and twisted its crooked arm, grabbing his right hand. It pulled fiercely against his hand, and he could feel his flesh ripping, which made him clamp down on his jaw from the pain.

His hand, along with the thread of flesh that kept it in place, had been torn off his body, leaving blood and bone on the floor. He wanted to scream, but instead he clamped down on his jaw harder, then his teeth gave out and shattered in his mouth. The demon took his ruined string of flesh and wrapped it around his neck. Then it choked him of all his life, staring at him in silence. Its jaws were opening wide with saliva lining its human-like teeth.

I can’t breathe, he thought. I can’t breathe. Help! Help me! Help!

“Michael! Michael are you all right?”

He awoke, startled on the floor, his bed sheets covering him.

“What in God’s name has possessed you?”

He threw off the blanket that smothered his face, and he gasped for breath.

“I’m fine,” said Michael. “I’m fine. It was a nightmare.”

He regained his composure and urged his alarmed sister to give him a few minutes alone.

“No Michael, I’m making sure you won’t convulse again like you did just now.”

Michael finally came to his senses, then he rolled his eyes at her and stood up to reassure his sweet sister he would not convulse any longer. Then he noticed a pain on his right hand and went to comfort it with his left, but his fingers passed through emptiness. A long stare at his arm confirmed his right hand was missing.

“What happened to my hand?” said Michael, stunned with fear.

“Please, stop. You’re worrying me,” said Daria.

 She went to give him a hug.

“No, please. I’m serious! What happened?” He was remembering the feeling of his flesh snapping.

“Shhh. Michael it’s okay. I’m here.”

Her hug had soothed him so, like most of her hugs had always felt. Half a minute passed before he was calm enough to speak again.

“Thank you,” he said.

His mind was clear of the nightmare he had. He looked at his sister in the eyes with determination. He needed to know how this hand vanished.

“Daria, please. What happened exactly?”

Her face became sullen. She turned away from him and walked to the door.

“I know you’re trying to be funny, but if you want me to say it, you lost your hand when you broke father’s marble slab a few years ago. I’m going downstairs to make breakfast ready.”

Michael stared at the back of his sister’s head as she walked out of sight. He was horrified. It was just a dream, wasn’t it?

Am I going insane? He paced around his room, trying to comprehend the situation. He locked his door. Were all of those memories of my right hand false? Was it really just a dream?

He tried remembering the night of the incident, but he could only think about the mangled body and the piercing shriek. Then, as if it had been hiding all this time, Michael let out a yawn.

He realized how tired he had been this entire time.

It was only a dream, he thought. I just need some more rest. Michael went to lie down on his bed and closed his eyes, but he remained awake, terrified. After some time, Michael finally started dozing off, and for the first time he felt comfortable. At last he found himself asleep once more. In his mind’s eye he could see a myriad of vague shapes and colors. He singled out a triangle, which floated pleasantly around his vision. Then another. The two danced together like old friends. And a circle joined them together. The creature’s face flashed. Michael felt something grab his right hand. It frightened him out of bed. It was there, waiting for him in his dreams.

He looked at his hand. Still gone. But now, Michael truly felt horror.

I can’t go back to sleep, he thought. It wants to find me again. Michael stood in the middle of his room, afraid of what was to come next. Daria called to him from the kitchen.

“Michael! Breakfast is ready! Come down before it gets cold!”

The soft voice of his sister reassured Michael. He went to the door to unlock it. Just as he clicked the lock open, a single footstep was heard on the otherside. He froze.

 “Michael! Come down!”

“Daria?”

No one else lived in this house for a year ever since their father had passed. There was no response. 

“Daria?!”

“Yes! Come down already!”

“No. No. No! Wake up,” Michael said to himself. “Please, wake up.”

But he could not do it. Instead, Michael stood in the middle of his room, afraid of what was to come next...

#dark academia #chaotic academia #horror #scary stories #short story #fiction #edgar allan poe #goth aesthetic #gothic #vampire aesthetic #literature #gothvampkid