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ma1dita · 2 months

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solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace.

“Holy shit, you scared me!”

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed.

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose?

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.”

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.”

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape.

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you.

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.”

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill.

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco.

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you)

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning.

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for.

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans?

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist!

Gods.

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow.

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before.

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #pjo x reader #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan imagine #percy series #luke castellan angst #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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kitten4sannie · 7 months

Note

Hi congrats on 3k :)

Soo I’ve been thinking about sub Mingi quite a bit lately and if we’re going to get spooky lol what if he’s a clingy ghost that haunts and constantly comes around when he wants your attention and body? ;) Picture this: it’s 3 am and you wake up out of your sleep to see him gingerly pulling at your sleep shorts with a cute lil pout <3 He’s whining and pleading, “Y/N, can you please fuck me? I’m so lonely </3”

hehe thank you ^-^ 💞 ALSO EXCUSE YOUUU – NEEDY ?? SUB?? GHOST?? MINGI ???? 👁️👄👁️ i’m literally on my knees for you and this concept anonnie rjwjhw i hope i can deliver something worthy of this thot provoking ask <33

⛧ seance smutfest ⛧

w.c: 2.1k

warnings: pouty subby baby boy mingi :((, big dick mingi, also he’s a ghost so he has ghost? features? lol, dom! reader, reader’s kinda mean ngl jssjs, so many pet names omg, some possessive language, light degradation, teasing, begging, praise, some pet play dynamics (everyone lets say thank you to @lemonhongjoong for making puppy ghost min a thing <3), drooling, brief mutual masturbation, grinding, cum eating, brief oral (receiving), doggy style obv, overstim, multiple creampies

Your roommates tend to keep to themselves these days — most notably when the sun goes down. They can’t bring themselves to tell one another about the things they’ve been experiencing without sounding like they’re crazy.

How could they possibly explain that they feel like they’re being watched when they’re taking a shower and laying alone in their beds? That they hear their names being whispered into their ears just as their eyelids grow heavy enough for them to drift off to sleep? How could they possibly let anyone know about the howls and wails they hear coming from somewhere in the house late at night?

How could you tell them that it had one of the most complicated, yet simplest answers? The answer being the (very needy) apparition that had appeared in your room for the third time that week. At 3 am, no less. A groan tumbled out of your dry throat as you tried to blink away the darkness and make out the figure that hovered above you.

“Y/N…wake up, so you can fuck me…” he whispered in a deep, breathy voice, the edges of his words thick with desire.

“You can’t keep doing this, Mingi…” you croaked, feeling the odd heaviness and simultaneous lightness of his body pressing into yours.

The ghost frowned, his head lowering slightly. “But I need you.”

You grimaced, your cheeks growing warm. “I need sleep.”

He whimpered, his fingers already pulling down your sleep shorts past your hips, looking down at you with an intense, unwavering gaze, his bluish plump lips forming a signature pout. You could already feel his heavy cock pressing into the side of your thigh. “Y/N, please. I’m so lonely.”

The fire inside you was lit — just like that. This was why you were never able to say no to him. The ghostly brat was so good at begging for your attention and body, you couldn’t possibly deny him. Though, he would have to work for it.

“If you want me so bad,” you began somewhat mockingly, feeling his cold hands settle on your hips for a moment and squeeze them slightly, a trail of goosebumps immediately forming where he touched you. “Then you’ll just have to get off in front of me first, ghostie.”

“D-don’t call me that,” Mingi murmured, blowing a few strands of whitish blond hair out of his eyes, biting his lip at your proposition. He would’ve blushed if he were still alive. “…Call me yours…”

“You know what, Mingi?”

“What?” he whined, his head drooping more, his bottom lip jutting out just enough to make you fall further underneath his spell, though you were determined to get the most out of this paranormal encounter.

Giggling softly at his reaction, you took his hands and slowly ran them up along your curves, up and under your hoodie until they were just underneath your breasts, feeling his fingers press slightly into your ribcage. He stared hard at you in the darkness, the whites of his eyes practically glowing as you gazed back at them with your own half-closed ones. “I’ll call you mine as soon as you cum for me. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you play with your cock?”

Mingi throbbed inside his sweatpants as he pulled at the drawstrings, letting them fall until his long, veiny cock sprung out and curved up into his lower abdomen.

You smiled at the sight of it, your eyes trailing his thick length until you settled on the flushed, pronounced tip. “That’s a good boy.”

Mingi bit back a moan, his cock twitching on its own, the head leaving a strand of pre-cum behind when it made contact with his lower abdomen.

Sighing softly, you couldn’t help but give in and stroke your ego a little. “That’s all it takes, huh, Min? A little praise and you’re ready to spill your load for me?”

“Yeah, it makes me feel really good,” he answered in an oddly shy manner, despite his hand already closing around the base of his cock and jerking upwards, another thick bead of pre-cum oozing out of the bluish tip. “Fuck, I need you so bad."

You licked your lips, letting your hand slip down into your panties to rub your wetness around. “What do you need exactly, ghost boy? Enlighten me.”

“Need to be inside you. Need to fuck your cunt. Feel it squeeze around me when I fill you up. And, fuck–” He groaned harshly, his eyes centered on your moving hand, whimpering at the sounds of your slick, his wrist beginning to hurt from how roughly he was pleasuring himself. "Nnngh, does it feel good, Y/N? Knowing I’m gonna cum just for you?”

“It feels really good, Min,” you breathed out, rubbing your clit in between two fingers, tilting your head to the side, some of your hair falling into your eyes. “But, you know what would feel even better?”

“What?” he inquired as soon as the words left your mouth, his own mouth starting to hang open to let drool drip out, his cock throbbing away.

“If you rubbed your cock on my cunt, Minnie.” You smiled at the mess he was already becoming for you, lowering your panties just enough so that he could make out the slick glistening on your folds. “Do you want that?”

An airy whine left Mingi’s lips, his hips already starting to move on their own, practically using his hand as a fleshlight. “Yes, please.”

“So obedient,” You giggled, reaching out to run your index finger up along his stiff length, watching it twitch a bit once you swiped your finger up and over his cockhead. “And so sensitive. How cute.”

Mingi seriously would’ve turned into a tomato at this point, but you didn’t have to know that. He simply pouted and rutted himself against your upper thigh, getting his pre-cum all over it, pleading for you until you eventually tossed your panties to the side and spread your thighs apart for him.

“Get to work, Min,” you purred, running your fingers through his shaggy hair.

Like a dog hearing the dinner bell, he sprung into action, resting his hands near either side of your head, his chilled body flush against your heated one, his cock already rubbing deliciously along your cunt, more pre-cum leaking out of the tip. “Feels so good, so good, so good–”

“Aww, look at you, getting all worked up for me. What a needy boy.”

“Need you so bad,” he reassured, blowing a few bangs out of his eyesight. “Wanna fill you up.”

Wiping away a bit a sweat from your forehead, you couldn’t help but to let out a few breathy moans, the tip of the ghost’s thick cockhead sliding against your clit in a way that sent electricity through the rest of your body. “Cum for me and i’ll let you inside, Min, I promise…”

Mingi suddenly pushed himself up and grabbed onto your hips, thrusting forward so quickly, the springs in the mattress began to creak underneath the both of you, your combined slick allowing him to steadily bring you to your peak. “Gonna…cum…for you, Y/N…”

“Yeah, that’s it, just like that,” you praised breathily, feeling your lower half getting lifted up from how desperately he began to fuck himself on your wet cunt, your head dropping back when your high took over you, barely able to listen to all of the whiny moans that began to leave Mingi’s drooling mouth. “Such a good boy, my good boy…”

“Your–nnnngh–good boy,” Mingi echoed weakly, his body shuddering, his fingers leaving bruises in the flesh of your hips, holding you still as he left spurt after spurt of his release on your already dripping cunt and lower abdomen.

Once Mingi lowered your body back down on the bed, you ran your fingers through the warm liquid he left behind, giggling softy at the sound of his heavy panting and the sight of his pretty glistening lips when he licked his cum off of your fingers without you having to ask, his spit dripping down them. “What a naughty boy you are.”

“Just for you,” he nodded, trying to lick up the saliva that had dripped down his chin.

“Oh, sweetheart, you want to fuck me so bad, you’re going to drool all over yourself?” Your eyes sharpened, knowing you were about to reignite his fuse. “Are you a puppy or something?”

Mingi let out a shameless moan from your words, his previously half-hard cock coming back to life and throbbing steadily. If he had visible pupils, they would be blown out by now. “Yeah, I’m a needy puppy…I need my Master’s cunt.”

“Then, clean up your mess, puppy,” you chimed, his title for you giving you so much satisfaction you almost came right then and there. You spread your thighs apart, sending an inviting smile his way. “And then you can fuck your Master dumb, okay?”

Mingi’s mouth was on your cunt before you could take another breath, his wide tongue collecting your juices and his own cum as he brought it up and down your cunt. “Mmm, fuck…”

“Good puppy,” you praised, your cunt pulsing around his tongue once he shoved it inside along with two fingers that slowly spread you apart, almost losing your composure from the way he began to vigorously tongue-fuck you. “Fuck, what do you think you’re doing, Min?”

“ ‘M just cleaning up my mess,” he moaned against your cunt, swiping at your clit with the tip of his tongue, making you throb again. “I wanted to get you nice and stretched out for my cock too. Don’t want to hurt my Master.”

Mingi’s filthily adorable words drifted through your lust-drunk mind, encouraging you to spread your hole open for the sweet spirit, gazing up at him. “I’m ready for you, puppy. Come and get it.”

You couldn’t remember how long you had been there for, taking Mingi’s cock from behind, your thighs trembling underneath you, the side of your face squished into the cum-soaked mattress, your sore wrists being held taut in the ghost’s tight grip, your throat growing more and more dry every time he sunk back into the tight heat of your cunt. You didn’t even have to worry about your moans being heard by your roommates. Mingi’s moans were much louder, much more whiner than yours.

Poor Mingi couldn’t help it. It just felt so good being balls-deep in such a tight, warm hole he could fuck and fill until he had no more cum left to empty out inside you. His eyes wandered down your back, fixating on the milky liquid that dripped down his length, slamming himself into you until it got pushed back inside where it belonged. “Gonna cum, gonna fuck you so full, it’ll be dripping out of you during breakfast tomorrow,” he warned in a weak, breathy voice, massaging and squeezing your hip with his free hand.

“Do it, Min, fuck me so full,” you cried out, feeling your entire body begin to shudder and throb with pleasure, catapulting over the edge along with Mingi once he began to slowly fuck his load into you until it joined the others still coating your used inner walls. “One more time, baby, fill me again…”

“ H-hold on…’m too sensitive…right now,” the ghost informed in between pants, idly licking at the drool that wanted to leak out past his lips. He let go of your wrists to wipe at his mouth, not prepared for the way your cunt suddenly clenched around his length.

“One more, Minnie, you can do it,” you encouraged through slurred words, lifting yourself up so that you could began to drive yourself back onto his cock, growing wetter just from the filthy squelching of your combined cum, Mingi’s sudden gasps, and his equally cute high pitched, airy moans. “That’s right, feels so good, huh?”

“S-so good,” Mingi choked out, running his hands up his body and holding onto himself periodically, hyper-fixated on the space where your slick bodies connected, whining each time you slammed yourself back onto him and took his cock inside as far as it would go. “Oh my goddd…you’re gonna make me cum again.”

You looked back at him, admiring the way his glistening lips were stuck in an ‘o’ shape, the way his eyebrows were screwed upwards, the look in his teary, half-closed eyes that told you not to stop. “Cum for me, baby, come on, give it to me,” you moaned out, fucking yourself on his cock until you clamped down on it, your own release spilling out of you and down your inner thighs.

“Y/N, fuck…!” Right on cue, Mingi let out a shamelessly loud wail, a few tears escaping his eyes, as you fucked him through his intense orgasm, milking his cock until he unloaded every last drop into you.

You were brought out of your cloudy headspace when Mingi’s body landed near yours on the mattress, suddenly compelled to wipe the remnants of tears away from his drool-stained face. “What a good ghost boy you are,” you whispered teasingly, yours fingers resting against his clammy cheek, rubbing it gently with your thumb.

Mingi squished his opposite cheek into the pillow, not knowing that it was flushed with a deep blue hue. His eyes crinkled at the edges, giving you a wobbly smile.

“Your ghost boy.”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#scheduled post #⛧ seance smutfest ⛧#cultofdionysusnet #cromernet #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #mingi #ateez mingi #mingi smut #mingi x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #kpop smut #ateez oneshot

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sweet-s0rr0w · 1 month

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Welcome to the third edition of my annual collaborative Drarry sex scene reclist, featuring even more favourite smutty scenes and fics selected by Drarry writers, artists, reccers, and fans! A huge thank you to this year's contributors, @apricitydays-lazynights, @arminaa8, @drarrymyheart, @drarryspecificrecs, @elskanellis, @hoko-onchi-writes, @jtimu, @littlewinnow, @maesterchill, @mallstars, @myrtlefics, @oflights, @peachydreamxx, @pl0tty, @rainstormradish, @sitp-recs, @starquestingfordrarry, @tackytigerfic, @thecouchsofa, and @thedrarrylibrarian!

Please mind the tags and practice DLDR as unsurprisingly these fics feature a wide variety of kinks and some are dub/non-con. Don’t forget to leave kudos!

All Drarry unless a poly ship specified!

2022 Reclist / 2023 Reclist

Under 10k

Again and More So by peu_a_peu (E, 3.1k)

Control, Freely Given by jtimu (E, 3.8k)

Double or Nothing by jtimu (E, 2.5k)

Friends At Last by @letteredlettered (E, 8.7k)

Full by @moonflower-rose (E, 2.7k)

Glamours That Don't Fade by WouldItWere (E, 8.8k)

I've Got a Beautiful Feeling (Everything's Going My Way) by @toomuchplor (E, 3.6k)

jerk/off by @oknowkiss (E, 7.2k)

November Flush by @thecouchsofa (E, 5.3k)

of course i cum fast, i've got a snitch to catch by @swoontodeath (E, 7.6k)

On Display by @lqtraintracks (E, 396 words)

Scent and Sensibility by @aidaninkling (E, 7.5k)

The Roommates by @citrusses (E, 3.7k)

Team Building for Dummies by InnerLilith (E, 7k)

10-20k

A Saviour’s Guide to Manners and Decorum by @wolfpants (E, 13k)

Celestial (paint me like one of your starscapes) by thecouchsofa (E, 31k)

Good Boy by lqtraintracks (E, 15k)

Löyly by citrusses (E, 10k)

Power Bottom by @cassiopeiasshadow (E, 17k)

Silhouettes by sweet_s0rr0w (E, 17k, Draco/Harry/Ron)

Strange Entanglements (the particles of us) by StarQuesting (E, 15k)

What’s Mine is Yours by @fluxweeed (E, 17k)

Wield Me by @tackytigerfic (E, 10k)

20-50k

Blood and Fire by lqtraintracks (E, 45k) chapter 1, the dresser scene

Dirty Little Secret by @writcraft (E, 22k)

The Four Ds of Apparition (or: Destination, Determination, Deliberation, and Dicks) by @firethesound and @eidheann (E, 37k)

Higher and Higher (Temptation) by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

LA, Who Am I To Love You? by @epitomereally (E, 43k) chapter 4

Ligabus Filium by tessacrowley (E, 42k)

Our Objective Remains Unchanged by citrusses (E, 46k) chapter 7

Now I Know In Part by @dodgerkedavra (E, 40k)

Some Nights by thecouchsofa (E, 24k, Draco/Harry/Ron)

Waking Up Slow by sweet_s0rr0w (E, 22k)

Over 50k

Grounds for Divorce by tepre (E, 122k) chapter 7 and chapter 8

Heartlines by @shiftylinguini (E, 73k)

Licurici by @lou-isfake (E, 133k, Draco/Harry/Charlie)

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship (E, 58k)

Only for October by dodgerkedavra (E, 54k)

Probationary Action by toomuchplor (E, 63k)

The Rewards of Being Loved by lou-isfake (E, 161k)

Rookie Moves by peu_a_peu (E, 75k)

Servile by @wellhalesbells (E, 69k)

WHISKY-TANGO-FOXTROT by @vukovich (E, 59k)

#drarry #dronarry #did not think through doing related titles when i started all this back in 2022 #thank you to maesterchill for the Daft Punk-sounding title #ss recs #thanks to the people who recced my fics #very naughty of u xx

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risuola · 7 months

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Welcome, dear reader, in the depth of the dirtiest little fantasies. This masterlist consists of writings, that'll explore kinky topics with JJK men, some take place in jujutsu universe, some not.

Now, get comfy, turn off the lights and let us begin. We'll do it slowly, gradually diving deeper, and deeper…

Starring: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Sukuna Ryomen, Kamo Choso, Nanami Kento, Fushiguro Toji

Please read warnings to each piece.

01 OCTOBER 2023

SAY MY NAME — starring: GOJO SATORU, who you matched with on the dating app

Internet is such a weird place. Never in your life you thought that you'd go to bed with a complete stranger that you met through the internet, but when you found yourself standing in front of the room in one of the most expensive hotels in Tokyo, you somehow thought now more about the man himself than the very obvious fact that you should not go but run home. But then he opened the door. — 7,8k words

cw: overstimulation, anonymous, one night stand

06 OCTOBER 2023

DON'T HOLD BACK — starring: GETO SUGURU, who’s as sweet as he's mean to you

If anyone got to know Suguru Geto, they would say that he's really nice guy, very kind and soft spoken, and they wouldn't be exactly wrong, but it seemed like you were the only person in the world that knows that Suguru, your tattoo artist boyfriend, is a meanie. — 7,9k words

cw: size difference, spanking, hair pulling

11 OCTOBER 2023

BREATHE THROUGH YOUR NOSE — starring: KAMO CHOSO, who’s your not-so-ordinary roommate

Blood is Choso’s thing, so it’s no surprise that he’s absolutely turned on when you show up in your shared room covered in it. Quickly, he abandoned watching tv and focused all of his attention on you. To help you, of course. — 2,4k words

cw: temperature play, breath play, choking, blood kink, body worship

16 OCTOBER 2023

I LOVE THE WAY IT HURTS — starring: FUSHIGURO TOJI, who adores the way your long nails break through his skin

One thing you learned during your long-term affair with Toji is that he perceives pain as something arousing. The adrenaline rush of stinging sensation, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue – those things send signals straight to his cock. You, on the other hand, are more than happy to scratch his body red. — 2,5k words

cw: marking, scratching, biting, pussy eating, handjob, blood kink if you squint, bruises, brief aftercare

21 OCTOBER 2023

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR — starring: SUKUNA RYOMEN, who leads a gang of curses

Ever heard of that saying to keep your friends close and your enemies closer? Yeah, you took that one straight to your heart, and pussy, because sleeping – no, rough fucking with the most dangerous enemy you own became a second nature to you. You became Sukuna's toy, you knew he was playing with you, satisfied to fuck you brainless whenever he felt like it but thing is, he's also unable to say no to you, what pisses him off. But once, you show up at his doorstep all covered in blood and he cannot say no to helping you. — 6,2k words

cw: hate fucking, enemies to lovers, dub con, shower sex, praise

26 OCTOBER 2023

OPEN YOUR MOUTH FOR ME — starring: NANAMI KENTO, who joined you for a simple mission during the Halloween night

You liked to joke that Nanami is always overdressed for the occasion. His suits were always crisp and perfectly tailored, showing the unmatched confidence with their color – light beige fabric in combination with dark blue button-up perfectly accentuated his mature features and blonde hair. Your work colleague knows how to dress to impress, and the grown-up apparition matched his character perfectly. Both were cold and calculated, so once, you decided to greet him in the hotel room a little underdressed. — 3,1k words

cw: lingerie + suit, blindfold, face fucking/deepthroating

31 OCTOBER 2023

CALL IT DOUBLE TROUBLE — starring: GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU, who have a habit of sharing everything

It’s been a while since you last saw your college ex-boyfriend Gojo and a Halloween party led to your reconnection. It was cool to see him again, although your break-up was messy. What turned out to be a plot twist, was that he now has a handsome best friend and together, they are deadly. — 6k words

cw: exes to lovers, threesome, double penetration, praise, cum play & more

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zoeysdamn · 1 year

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Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.2

Summary: Denial and weird roommates aren’t helping your health to improve. During the Poe cup, Xavier starts to suspect that something is wrong.

Warnings: angst, mention of blood, swearing.

A/N: definitely not proof-read and English isn’t my mother tongue, but the hype for the angst™ was stronger Also, shitty timeline, I have legit no memory of how long days pass in this show.

[Masterlist] [Part.1]

A few days had passed since that night. The frequency of the coughs hadn’t died down, although it was always quite unpredictable. Some days were easier than others, you only sneezed a few petals here and there; but some others were filled with sharp pain in your chest, uncontrollable coughs and whole flowers throwed up at the worst moments. You even started to feel lightheaded sometimes, as the unforgiving pressure on your chest squeezed harder and harder with every cough.

Thankfully you always managed to excuse yourself when you felt the pressure of a rough cough starting to build up in your chest. Like now, you were kneeling on one of the restroom’s floors, bent over the toilet sink and throwing up everything you could to try to free your lungs at least a little. Silently praying that no one was around to hear your choking sounds, you managed to throw out the last flower out of your throat. Wiping your mouth with the back of your trembling hand, you flushed the toilet, watching the white petals coated in blood being washed away. Sighing, you closed the toilet lid and sat on it, burying your face in your hands. Those last days had been hectic and your condition hadn’t improved the slightest. It even seemed worse than before, with some violent setbacks like now. It sometimes felt so hard to breathe for a few minutes, while you had never experienced any serious health issues before.

Maybe it was the stress; after Rowan’s aggression at the fair, Wednesday’s allegations about his death, then him being expelled, nothing made sense these days. Xavier hadn’t mentioned anything from that evening in his dorm. The day after had been a little bit awkward, but then the both of you acted like nothing happened; still, you started to put some distance between you. Firstly because you didn’t want to make things more weird, and second because you didn’t want anyone to know about that strange condition of yours. Plus, the sensation of aching lungs seemed to be worse every time you were around him. It surely didn’t mean anything, but it was a good excuse to avoid him until your health improved.

Checking your phone you noticed that your next class was about to start in a few minutes. So you gathered yourself, wiped the last remaining traces of tears or blood on your face, and got out of the restroom.

You slid on your seat in literature class just in time before the teacher started their lecture. Trying to pull out your notes and pen the more discreetly you could, you didn’t notice the worried look Xavier gave you from across the room. It wasn’t like you at all to be late for class. Even less to be so clumsy, he noted internally as you dropped your pen for the third time in five minutes. Xavier frowned. Something felt off about you and he couldn’t help but feel guilty about it deep down. You had left his dorm hurriedly last time ; he didn’t know exactly why but he still had the feeling he had something to do with it.

So when class was dismissed and all the students exited the room he rushed to catch you in the corridor.

“Hey,” he called softly when reaching you.

Your head whipped in his direction, eyes wide. You had been so deep in your thoughts you hadn’t heard him.

“Hey,” you breathed back. His sudden apparition had almost startled you.

Xavier opened his mouth, about to say something but then he noticed your wince at the loud barks and laughs of a few werewolves students passing by. The quad was full of students at this break time, and your recent lack of sleep made you irritable to the ambient noise.

So he grabbed your hand and muttered something about the place being too loud as he gently tugged you in a corridor. The sudden contact had made your heart race despite the familiarity of it; you silently prayed that he couldn’t feel your racing pulse under his long fingers, delicately wrapped around your wrist.

The two of you finally reached one of the corridors above the quad, much quieter than the place full of students. When it was clear that no one else was up here, Xavier let go of your wrist and turned to you.

“Hey,” he repeated, “are you alright?”

The sudden question made your heart start to race in panic. Has he noticed something? Did he find a petal in his dorm?

“You were late in class earlier,” he clarified at your lack of response, “you overslept or something?”

You almost sighed loudly in relief. “I- yeah I overslept this morning,” you lied with a small smile - you hoped it was reassuring enough. “Enid must’ve forgot to wake me up ah ah.”

Even if you laughed about it and brushed it away, Xavier was still not fully convinced. You were a decent liar to anyone else, but not to him, he knew you too well for that.

“Look, about what happened last night in my room…” he started awkwardly, licking his lips nervously, “I’m sorry you left so suddenly.”

You looked at him, eyes wide. “I- no that’s okay,” you stuttered, surprised he brought that up. “I had stuff to take care of, anyway.”

“Really?” he asked immediately, narrowing his eyes.

Taken aback by his fast response you could only stare at him, mouth slightly agape and lost for words. He was totally not buying it.

“Because you left in quite a hurry,” added Xavier, crossing his arms over his chest.

You looked away, licking your lips nervously. Why couldn’t he drop it? Or at least, figure out what had been bothering you? Maybe it’ll help you understand, because you weren’t so sure of what had hurt you so much either.

“It’s nothing, okay?” you mumbled quietly, still looking anywhere but at Xavier. “I just…I didn’t want to be too much, that's all.”

Too much, or overstepping in your fascination for Wednesday, you thought internally. But then, a hand came to cup your cheek and turn your face back to Xavier.

“Hey,” he said softly, and his voice made you look up at him. His warm brown eyes bore deep into yours, like a reassuring presence. “You will never be too much, okay? Not to me.”

You lightly gasped at his words, you didn’t even realize you released a breath. The tension that had been building inside your chest, full of anxiety and stifling sorrow, suddenly disappeared. Like his words were enough to blow away the petals that were threatening to come out your mouth.

“I know I acted as an idiot, okay?” he continued. Though his hand never left your cheek, and you were internally grateful for that. “I shouldn’t have dropped everything to start sketching while you were there.”

This felt like a cold shower. Ah, so that was what he thought he did wrong. Maybe it was, but the memory of what happened was still painful to you.

“I can’t stop you from drawing Xav,” you said, reluctantly pushing yourself away from his touch. “It wouldn’t be fair of me.”

Xavier frowned at you as you readjusted the strap of your bag over your shoulder, like you were ready to go. Never in all the years he had known you, you had ever fled his company. Yet, his presence seemed to make you uncomfortable now. Shit, how much of a prick had he been?

While he was stuck in his internal debate, you sighed. Of course, this topic was over for him. So you turned and started to walk away from him. That made Xavier snap back to reality, and a sliver of lucidity suddenly hit him.

“This is about Wednesday, isn’t it?” he called from behind.

That made you stop dead in your tracks and snap your head to him, eyebrows raised high.

“What?” you whispered.

The fact that it had made you react was maybe a sign that he was somehow right. As your mind tried to understand it all, the look of surprise on your face somehow reminded Xavier of the sadness that had emanated from you when you had left his room that night. It made his heart squeeze because he knew it was because of him.

“I- I know her. From before,” he explained, unsure about how to present things. “I met her when we were kids. She saved my life”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked perplexedly.

He opened his mouth once, twice, searching for the right words. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted.

Your throat felt suddenly tight. Like something bitter was stuck. “Is that why you admire her so much?” you asked, and you hear your voice crack a little. Hopefully with the distance, Xavier wouldn’t notice.

He didn’t. “I don’t know,” he repeated, still unsure of himself. He seemed as lost as you. “I just want to get to know her, you know?”

Deep in your chest, you felt your heart crack a little. It felt like the lightweightness you had felt only a few minutes earlier were gone, leaving your rib cage feeling like it was crushed by vines.

And yet, you couldn’t help but swallow everything, the bitter taste, the petals that started to gather in your lungs and the burning sensation of tears, and put on a brave smile.

“Well then, good luck Xav,” you smiled, hoping that your lips wouldn’t wobble too much. “I hope you’ll succeed in that.”

After all, you were his best friend. It wasn’t fair of you to stop him from reaching new friends, you had never had any problem with any of them before. But once again, none of his other friends had captivated him like that.

As you walked away once again, you heard him call you again.

“You’re still my girl, you know that right?”

His words made you stop. Slightly glancing behind your shoulder, you could see his sad eyes plagued with guilt; but you knew better, and recognized the sparkle in them. The unmistakable sparkle that twinkled in his eyes when you were speaking in hushed tones together, sharing secrets and moments, only the two of you. When he called you his girl, like he started to years ago. The two kids whose guardians were too busy to properly take care of, who swore to have each other’s back.

The familiarity of the nickname flooded your heart with warmth, and to Xavier’s relief it also made your lips curl into a fond smile.

“Yeah,” you answered softly, “I know.”

Walking to your next class, you felt lighter than before. The oppressing sensation of your lungs being squeezed was still here, always crawling behind your rib cage, but it felt like there was a little less pressure than before. Maybe there would be fewer petals today.

“Ah, there you are!” cheered Enid the next day, as you joined her on the yard after one of your classes. “Guess what! Wednesday agreed to substitute for Yoko’s role as co-captain for the race!”

“Really?” you asked, giving your gloomy roommate a surprised look.

“I never turn down an occasion for a crushing revenge,” she said flatly.

“It’ll be a roomie's bonding time!” squealed Enid, looking at the both of you excitedly. “All three of us, competing for the Poe cup!”

Wednesday raised her eyebrow at you, “I didn’t take you for the type to indulge in those childish games, Y/N. You just lost my entire respect.”

You shrugged, still unaffected by your new roommate’s brutal comments, “The school’s offering an occasion to legally try to drown other students, I’d be stupid to not have fun in that.”

“Fair enough,” she observed sharply. “You’ve regained my respect.”

That made you chuckle. Even if the apparent infatuation of Xavier for Wednesday pained you, you genuinely enjoy your new roommate’s company. She was weird, but again, everyone kind of was at Nevermore.

“What are you and Xavier to each other?” asked Wednesday suddenly.

The unexpected change of subject made you choke slightly. You had definitely not seen that one coming.

“Excuse me?” you said perplexed.

“I asked about the nature of the relationship between you and Xavier Thorpe,” deadpanned Wednesday.

God, why was her question making you so uneasy suddenly? You had never minded to bring the subject up, after all rumors at Nevermore were frequent and you were indeed close with him. But after what had happened - or almost happened - last time in his room, you weren’t so sure of what to say. Licking your lips nervously, unsure of how to present things, you turned to your other roommate silently pleading for help. But Enid only giggled excitedly.

“They’re best-friends to lovers' material,” she said with an amused smile.

“I don’t understand a single word you had just said,” sneered back Wednesday.

“We grew up together,” you finally said to interrupt Enid from spilling all of her theories about the two of you. “We’re close friends that’s all.”

The blonde werewolf gave you a wicked smile, “Suuuure you are.”

Rolling your eyes, you refocused on Wednesday, “Why are you asking?”

She only narrowed her eyes at you, “Gathering intel on potential suspects, that’s all.”

That brought a nervous laugh out of you, “Excuse me, what?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” she snapped back, “if I ever need information about him I know who I’ll need to bribe,” she finished before turning and walking away.

You stood here dumbfounded for a moment, before coming after her.

“Hey!” you called her as you caught up with her until you were now facing her. “I don’t know what you’re suspecting of, but Xavier’s innocent, alright? And I won’t tell you anything if you’re trying to drag dirt on him, okay?”

Wednesday stared at you before answering, “You’d make an acceptable person if you didn’t let your emotions cloud your judgment so pathetically.”

“Thank you for the advice about social skills,” you said dryly, “but also, none of your damn business.”

She only shrugged and stepped away. “He’ll come to me anyway, considering he’s acting like a sad puppy for some reason.”

As she walked away, her words rang in your head. The harsh squeeze on your lungs it suddenly triggered was proof enough that she was unfortunately right.

The day of the Poe cup came around faster than you expected. Still, you were glad for the occasion to drift your mind away from the plaguing thought of your concerning condition. Enid and Wednesday were still unaware of it; when the coughs had started to shake you awake at night, your silencing spell had come handy. Now you cast it almost every night to prevent your roommates from hearing your gruesome choking.

“Aww we match!” clapped Enid as you and Wednesday joined the rest of the team in your cat costumes.

“Don’t get used to it,” groaned the Addams.

“So, are we ready?” asked the werewolf, “Everyone knows what they have to do?” At the collective nod, she cheered again and all the team members took place in the canoe.

“I thought you’d be co-captain, Y/N” observed Wednesday while grabbing her paddle.

“I’m much more useful at the back, trust me,” you said with a grin, “witch powers.”

That almost brought the tiniest smile to her face. At least Wednesday seemed to enjoy the competitive aspect of the race. Glancing to your right to the Joker's canoe, you caught a glimpse of Xavier at the front of the boat. You looked at his face painted in creepy clown makeup, and for a brief moment, you thought that he was actually pretty attractive like that. Shaking your head to chase the intrusive thought you mentally scowled yourself. Now was not the time! Despite that you glanced at him once again; only to feel your heart squeeze a little more at the sight of him looking to Wednesday. His words a few days prior rang in your head. You’re still my girl, you know that, right? Yes, you knew. But even if you were his girl, his oldest friend, it wasn’t you he was currently staring at like you were the only person in the world. You couldn’t hold back the cough that pushed itself out of your throat violently this time. The intensity of your coughing fit was new, shaking you so hard you ended up bent in half with your hand clutched on your mouth, trying to tune down your stifling noises.

“Y/N, you okay back there?” called Enid from her seat.

The wet sensation on your hand made you wince. “I’m fine,” you wheezed, “ ‘s nothing”

As soon as the coughs calmed down, you threw whatever you had regurgitated on the canoe floor before anyone could notice. Lifting your head up to recompose yourself, you caught sight of the face of your best friend, concerned in his eyes.

‘You alright?’ you saw Xavier mouth.

The only thing you could do was to nod before the sound of a blown horn indicated the start of the race. Without wasting a single minute, every team started to row like their life depended on it. Your eyes briefly flickered to your feet; between them laid three whole white lilies tainted with blood. You gulped. Now was really not the time.

After an eventful crossing of the lake, where you had your head almost chopped off by the Joker’s ax, your team finally managed to reach the island. While Wednesday ran to find the flag, you stayed to ensure nobody tried to sabotage your canoe – as Enid did to the Joker’s.

As you saw the two other teams coming back with their flags and sail again you started to worry about Wednesday. Has something happened to her? Before you and Enid started to talk about who should check on her, she appeared again, flag in hand.

“I got it, let’s go!”

All of your team jumped in your canoe in a hurry, and left the island in the blink of an eye.

“We’re far behind everyone else!” shouted one of your teammates. “We’re not gonna make it!”

“Y/N!” shouted Enid, “Think you can give us a little push?”

Immediately dropping your paddle inside the boat, you inhaled deeply, “I can! Brace yourselves ladies, hold tight!”

Trying to slow down your breathing you concentrated hard, reaching down to your powers and started to mutter the words of incantation. The water at the back of the boat suddenly started to shiver, and the next thing your team knew, the canoe was propelled onward by a hard push. They all gripped the edges of the boat to steady themselves as you gained speed, rapidly gaining a foothold your opponents.

“That’s amazing!” screamed Enid over her shoulder, “How long do you think can hold this?”

Deep into concentration you tried to not break the spell, “Long enough for us to reach the shore if everything goes smoothly!”

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a move in the water. One of the sirens.

“Wednesday!” you called her, “Eight o’clock!”

She whipped her head, immediately identifying the threat and nodded sharply. Thing crawled out from under her seat, and dove into the water. Oh, you loved that hand.

The outline of the shores were noticeable by now, so you reached deeper into your powers to try to give your boat a little more speed. The canoe accelerated again, going past Bianca’s team's flowing boat, but as you thought you could make a home run of this crossing, a violent cough startled you. The sudden stop in the push of your power shook the boat, your other team mates screaming in surprise while you tried the hardest to breathe.

“What’s going on?!” asked Enid.

Failing to swallow your coughs you could only hope for this fit to be a brief one, “Don’t cough stop,” you wheezed from your seat, “start cough cough paddling, we’re almost there!”

They all grabbed their paddles and started to paddle like their lives depended on it. You tried to keep up their paces, but the unforgiving coughs were weakening you too much. For a moment, you wondered if you weren’t going to pass out in the canoe. But then, as you approached the shore the euphoria of close victory on the boat gained you, and with a rush of adrenaline, you jumped out of the boat with your teammates, rushing to the finish line.

Cheers echoed everywhere around you, congratulating the Ophelia team. Even the feeling of petals scratching in your throat couldn’t ruin your joy for once. You knew swallowing it down was coming to bite you later, and that you were going to spend the evening throwing up petals and blood, but for now you wanted to feel normal.

Below on the shore, as the other teams reached the land Xavier’s eyes landed on a white and red spot on the ground of the black cat’s canoe. He frowned at the bloodied flowers, especially when he realized they were where you had sat. How did the flowers end up here?

Whipping his head in the direction of the joyful cheers, his eyes landed on you, your broad smile as Enid’s arms were thrown over your shoulders. It had been a long time since he hadn’t seen you smile like that.

But the way you turned away your face and covered your mouth with your hand to cough, just for a few seconds, didn’t escape him. Nor the slight smudge of blood dripping on the corner of your mouth just before you wiped it.

His eyes flickered to the blood-coated flowers in the boat, then back to you and a cold feeling suddenly sank inside of him.

Something felt off. Xavier didn’t know why yet, but something about you was very, very wrong.

[Part.3]

A/N: this was supposed to be a two-part one shot. Well, guess I'm writing a whole fic now Y'all are CRAZY about sad artistic blorbo Xavier and I love you for that sjgkgurgirge thank you for all the kind comments on the previous part QwQ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist:

@apocalypticnova ; @libdarkheart ; @ameliabs-world ; @certifeidlovergirll ; @aeisnoa ; @cat-loves-music ; @coolchick333 ; @eringaitskilll ; @flowersownme ; @sweaterxav ; @sssleepless ; @l4venderia ; @eileen201804 ; @persipeonii ; @coldheartedmar ; @chaosfrisur ; @littlebabyk

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

#xavier thorpe #xavier x reader #wednesday #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #xavier x you #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe angst #hanahaki disease #no beta we die like men

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thatdeadaquarius · 8 months

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sleepy-apparition Submitted:

I have to say it, I can not stay silent any longer! Shenhe is one of the best characters for neurodivergent creator.

Just hear me out! Not only is also plagued with feeling like she's stuck between two worlds(being a human that was forced out of society and now has to ingrain herself back into society after living away from it for so long), her way of thinking and speech are perfect for someone who's neurodivergent(she's probably neurodivergent herself). She's VERY direct. You always know what you're gonna get from her. I'd be refreshing, especially after that awkward 'just became friends' stage.

Also Shenhe's like. One of the best bodyguards you could have, in any context. She's SUPER strong and quick, and she, technically, can follow you anywhere. Unlike Ganyu and Cyno(Who have high maintenance jobs) or Xiao(Who has a certain duty stopping him from leaving), there isn't anything keeping her in Liyue. I guess there's the chance of her red ropes breaking...but that's something she's been working hard on since she met the traveler. It's something she can work on with you. Plus, traveling with a partner might be good, for both the you and Shenhe. You get a friend who can protect you, and she also gets afriend, and crowd exposure therapy. Win-win honestly.

I might have put to much effort into this, but I need to talk about Shenhe and your ask box was closed. Your work is amazing by the way! It never fails to make me laugh or smile, so keep it up! You're doing great!

GORGEOUS GORGEOUS WRITING ABOUT GORGEOUS GORGEOUS WOMEN ✨️💙

I love this, tho admittedly im head over heels for any neurodivergent content in sagau/genshin ever <33

THANKS FOR BLESSING MY EYES FIRST WITH THIS, it was an amazing read

You guys are always welcome to send in writing blurbs or any brainrot ur having, I love to hear it!! /gen :)

Btw, if ur wondering where ive been for the past week or so, ive been working on the one shot for Eldritch AU!

☆

⚠️WARNING talk of Covid/Sickness below!⚠️

...that and I got Covid 💀

My roommate brought it back with them when they came home,, last friday? I think

And i ended up getting a nasty fever on and off for 2 days straight

Im almost recovered now! Just a stuffy nose and no taste buds :'(

Which has been the most upsetting part i can BARELY taste anything

My sense of taste yesterday was the most there its been since i got knocked out last week, and even then it was at 1/4 rlly of the way there

Now im back to eating textures 😭

Been like this for 4 days now that im doing better/more cleared up its so unfair D;

Anyway, srry abt the complaining, just wanted to let u guys know whats up!!

Let me know if u got any getting taste back tricks 🥲

THANK U AGAIN FOR THIS.

Im serious this made my day to see <3333 😭

☆

Safe Travels Sleepy,

💀♒️

tbh i thought abt tagging beloveds so they could see this, but i didnt write it so i didnt wanna tag lmao

#submissions #genshin sagau #submission stories #sagau #genshin isekai #genshin imagines #gender neutral reader #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin

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emeraldborealis · 2 years

Text

Ghost Under My Bed

Pairing: Poly!Ghostface x Fem!reader

TW//CW: Hurt/comfort, depictions of agoraphobia, intrusive thoughts, light angst, Ghost Billy and Stu.

Words: 4,653

When I first moved in I noticed when strange things started to happen, but I honestly just tried to convince myself I was going crazy, seeing things, gaslighting myself when I found things in places I didn't remember leaving them. Because how else would they get there?

I knew the houses grave history, it was how I could afford the house in the first place. But I didn't expect for two boys to have stuck around. There was one who was more active, the other being more passive, unless aggravated. But I'd see them both in every corner of the house, places it was too hard to make them out sanely.

When I accepted their presence I was fearful, I was unsure of their intentions, but I soon learned that it was misplaced. I'd speak to them sometimes, just out of boredom and to fill the deafening silence. But they wouldn't respond, I wasn't sure they even could.

My mental health was decaying, their was a loneliness growing in my bones. I was existing in a state of constant hypervigilance, paranoia. Everywhere I went I felt eyes on me, it wasn't just from the ghosts haunting me. It felt like something else was haunting me, some other unforeseen force, one I knew deeper than I could explain. One I had a history of- problems with. One that deep down I wanted nothing more than to lay to rest.

I wasn't sleeping at night either, every time I tried I'd just lay there for hours, or if I somehow managed to fall asleep I'd wake up in a cold sweat. I was growing dark circles under my eyes like mold, I was starting to look like the dead myself. A corpse. An empty shell of who I once was.

My curtains remained shut at all hours, the sun was just too bright. And there was a thought whispering in the back of my mind that if I looked outside I'd see something staring back at me, even if I didn't look, I'd feel the eyes of that something on me. So they stayed closed.

The only thing that seemed to be occupying my mind was death lately, which I guess is what stemmed the question that lingered in my mind like an uninvited guest, one that just wouldn't leave.

Staring up at the ceiling on another sleepless night I thought I'd let the burning question in my mind try to find an answer. "Ghost under my bed?" I called out, seeing if my unexpected roommates would respond.

"Yeah, that's me." A voice echoed in my ear startling me, I wasn't prepared for an answer. Collecting myself and my thoughts I pressed on.

"What's it like to be dead?" I whispered out, it was a morbid curiosity really. But one I couldn't shake from the forefront of my mind even with a bullet.

"It's pretty sweet." That same voice cooed again.

Like a rocket I sat up from my bed turning on my small bedside lamp. The light it radiated was dim and flickered ever so slightly from the old dying bulb, but it typically did the trick.

I clawed at my tired eyes trying to get them to adjust to the new light and searched around my room. There was no one there. Sighing, I sat my feet on the cold wooden floor, I placed my head in my hands looking down to the ground. "I think I'm losing my head." I spoke to myself thinking my sleep deprecated mind was losing it's grip on reality.

"That's too bad." A different voice filled the room making my skin crawl with gooseflesh. This was all really happening. I wasn't just overly tired. I slowly looked up to see a ghostly figure before me.

Practically jumping out of my skin I crawled to the other side of my bed, attempting to put as much distance between us. "We can't hurt you, don't you think if we wanted to we would have by now?" The first voice spoke, a ghostly apparition shining in the bits of moonlight from the cracks in my curtains, he was hard to make out, but his figure was tall, and wearing a sweater.

"I guess." I eyed the specter curiously, allowing myself to relax slightly before I thought about his choice of words more. "Can't or won't?"

"Can't." My head rapidly turned to see another apparition appear from the most tenebrous corner of my bedroom, he was more obscured and indistinguishable than the taller one, standing in shadows rather than the moonglow. But his mere presence gave the atmosphere an uneasy edge to it.

Uncertainty laced my movements as I slowly climbed off my bed and towards the one in the light, I'd never seen anything like him, I mean I'd caught glimpses of them both in my peripheral before, but I'd never really seen them. Not like this.

This was all so bizarre, to say the very least. Unsure, I reached my hand forwards, expecting it to go straight through him with a cold sensation like in the movies, maybe even a jump scare. But instead my fingers came in solid contact with the sweater clad chest. He was as cold as the grave his body was undoubtably lying in somewhere.

I quickly retracted my hand shocked, looking from my hand to the boy himself, he seemed just as surprised. I blinked my eyes in disbelief and when I opened them he was gone. With a new adrenaline pushing through my veins I whipped myself around to the dark corner where the other one was standing, only to find he was gone too.

"Hello?" I whispered suddenly feeling very exposed in the dim and now distressing feeling atmosphere. There was no response, the only noise audible was the earie whistling of wind outside and the scrapping of dead leaves across eroded concrete and gravel, pairing with the endless ticking and clicking of my clock.

I stood in the middle of the room for a long time, too petrified to move. I could still feel the chill on my fingers from touching him and the hairs on the back of my neck still stood. Every small noise was amplified in my state of paralyzing fear.

Slowly and reluctantly I made my way back to my bed, laying myself down with shaky movements. I buried myself in my blankets and looked straight at the ceiling not daring to move to turn off the lamp, it felt like a Jack-o-lantern on Halloween night, warding off evil spirits.

At some point I must have passed out from exhaustion, the sun was leaking into my room through the thin curtains, and my lamp had been turned off at some point during the night. Rising from my blanket wrappings I stretched, the sound of popping and crackling of stiff bones filled the room. I had been as still and motionless as a cadaver all night. Terrified of moving even a single inch.

If it weren't for the chill still lingering on my fingers I could have convinced myself that nothing had happened last night, that it was all a dream. Maybe I still could, it just wouldn't be as believable.

Dragging myself from my room I traveled down the stairs, holding onto the railing trying to stop my still stiff creaking joints from giving out on me. Once at the bottom I made my way into the kitchen looking for something to eat.

The day went painstakingly slow, it seemed to inch along as smoothly as nails on a chalkboard. Maybe it was dread making it pass so unusually. Dread that at the end of the day I'd have to crawl back into bed and do the same thing again tomorrow, and the day after that. And the day after that. Until one day I just don't wake up again.

One day I could lay peacefully under the elms, pushing daisies. I could rest. But until then I would have to continue to drag myself around like a living corpse. Dreaming of the day I would cash in.

Laying myself down among my sheets and pillows I tried to find a comfortable position, one I couldn't see the darkest parts of the room. I didn't want to catch a glimpse of someone from the past.

As the time ticked by the persistence of the clock started to drive me mad, no matter how I tossed or turned I couldn't find the position to unlock hypnagogia. My mind was filled with pointless thoughts and memories I didn't want to bring up outside of therapy. I was trying to disassociate from my own thoughts but just like the ticking of the clock, they persisted.

The coldness on my fingers from what happened the night before came to my mind, and I was once again pondering the question. "What's it like to be dead?"

"It's really rad." I turned my gaze from the dark ceiling to the side of my bed, I came face to face with a boy. He was, pretty. I wasn't frightened seeing him, but a strange part of me was relieved. Relieved I was no longer alone, alone with my thoughts.

Fully turning on my side I continued staring at the boy kneeling to my level on the mattress, he was unmoving. But he watched with interest at each of my movements. Lethargically I raised my hand and caressed his cheek, seeing if he was really there. Even with my actions he still didn't move. It was odd.

"Are you really here?" I asked questioning my sanity in the situation.

"Sure am." He replied leaning into my touch ever so slightly.

"Why?" Slowly retracting my hand I laid it on the mattress beside my head, it was chilled and gooseflesh crawled my arm spreading over my body from the point I had made contact, there was a strange sensation in my lower spine, the kind you might get when the dentist is drilling in your teeth, and a static in my brain.

With a blink of my dark sunken tired eyes he was gone. Just like the night before. "I'm sorry." I whispered, I hadn't meant to offend or hurt him. I shouldn't have said anything.

"He gets touchy with that." The figure I had only seen in the darkest part of my room made himself seen, he stood above me, crossing his arms. "We don't know why we're still here, but we are. He thinks it's some kind of punishment, he had to watch his parents move out and away from him, leaving him here. They didn't know we were still here. But I think they would have still left if they did."

"Oh." I whispered sitting up to be more level with him, I sat cross legged on my bed my hands clasped loosely in my lap. The hand I had caressed the boys face with was still cold, and tingled with the sensation of pins and needles. "I hadn't meant anything by it."

"It's fine, he'll be over it by tomorrow." He let his arms down, laying loosely at his sides. His posture wasn't straight, but something about it made him more alluring and intriguing. It worked for him.

"Can I ask you a question?" I held my hands tighter together, nerves shooting through me.

"I guess." Lazily he took a spot next to me on the bed. I noticed how he didn't dip the mattress with weight.

"What are your names?" It felt unnatural to look at him directly, so I watched us from the mirror across the room instead, he was pretty too.

"I'm Billy, the one you keep touching is Stu." His eyes locked with mine in the mirror, he was leaning in watching me like a predator, his stare was dark and unnerving. It made me question if he was still sitting beside me on the bed or only sitting in the mirror. I dared a glance, and there he still was, sitting beside me, in the same relaxed, laid back position from when he first sat down. A contrast to the way he sat in the mirror.

"I see."

Shortly after that he vanished too, leaving me sitting alone in the dark once more. I sat hunched over with my legs still crossed under me for what felt like hours, just letting my mind reel. Until my back forced me to give it a rest and move. I laid myself back down and waited for sleep to succumb to me.

I slept poorly but more at ease than the night before.

Staring vacantly at myself in the steamy mirror after a warm shower, I still looked like something that belonged six feet under ground. A phantom of who I should be. I pulled at my eyes in frustration, before sighing deeply and giving up on ever looking lively again.

Leaning down I cupped the cold water in my hands to wash my face, my hand sightlessly patted around me looking for my pale blue towel, finally after bumping into a few random objects on my bathroom counter my hand came in contact with the soft fabric of my towel.

Patting my face dry I looked into the mirror, standing behind me in the unlit doorway was a figure in the dark. Turning from the mirror I looked down the hall trying to see who I saw in the mirror. No one was there.

Wrapping my towel tighter around me I walked to my room to get dressed.

Laying around the house was getting tiring, no movie sounded interesting to me and I yearned for the ability to sleep. But I knew it'd never happen. I felt like I was decomposing into the couch, always unmoving as my eyes zoned out on something I wasn't really looking at somewhere in the room, while my mind eroded every productive or positive thought from my mind.

I considered going outside, getting some fresh air. But the sun sounded too bright and unappealing, not to mention the overwhelming fear of crossing the threshold of the door into the outside world. The outside where peoples eyes always seemed to linger, burning holes into my body. Their whispers, laughs and giggles I was convinced were about me. No, I wouldn't leave my house today.

My mind was too unfocused and inattentive to focus, my ears began to ring and I remembered to breath, taking a deep breath my eyes focused themselves again. The sun was long gone and in its place came night, everything inside and out was now covered in an inky blue hue.

Sitting up on the couch I looked around me more, everything was in it's rightful place, the thin layer of dust on my trinkets on display made me wonder the last time I really looked around was.

Was I even real if no one knew I existed? Was I really any more alive than the ghosts in my house?

Pushing the thought from my mind I stood up, and made my way to sit at the counter to ponder what to eat for dinner instead, if you could still call it that at midnight. I sat there for an hour before giving up and going to get ready for bed.

I didn't bother turning on the lights as I moved through my house, there was enough natural light to see where I was going. Moving through the dark house made me feel even more like a ghost. Like someone forgotten and left in someone else's past. It was oddly comforting and extremely self distancing.

I was struck with a feeling of emptiness and indescribable loneliness standing in my dark empty hallway, knowing I was going to spend the rest of my life in dark empty hallways. Pretending like I was ok living like this, and that it didn't hurt when I got left behind. Or when I let myself become isolated because the real world was just too much for me. I let myself decay into ruin because I couldn't face the delusions my own mind made me believe, so instead I became content to never progress, to be at a standstill.

It was all just too much for me so I let myself give up. I allowed myself to give up.

Sinking slowly to the floor my body filled itself with tremors, a pit of anxiety and fear of living grew in my stomach. I was suddenly so aware of how uselessly I was living, and that my life held no meaning, other than that I was simply alive. No one knew I existed. I wasn't even sure that made me a real person.

My breathing was short and quick, I was lightheaded and losing all rational thought, I was losing all thought together actually. I didn't want to be just alive. But the thought of ever leaving to resume my life was too much. I didn't know how to live anymore.

I sat on the floor until I felt myself go numb again. Then I picked myself up and finished getting ready for bed.

Sinking into my mattress I stared at myself in the mirror, tired and devoid of living color, and I came to terms with the fact that I was a floater. I floated through life like a body down a river, coldly and without control, I didn't want to be a floater, and I'm sure they didn't either.

"Ghost under my bed, I think I'm losing my head." I sunk from the mattress to the cold hardwood floors, letting the bite from the cold be something to help ground me from my intrusive thoughts.

"We all go a little mad sometimes." Billy took a seat above me on the mattress, his feet beside me on the floor. "I think I've said that before, I think it's from something. But I can't remember exactly."

"Anthony Perkins, Psycho." I moved myself back onto the mattress to sit beside Billy, it didn't feel as weird looking at him now. He gave me a confused look and I elaborated. "It's a movie, came out around 1960 I think, that's what the quotes from."

"Oh yeah, I liked that movie. I liked a lot of scary movies." He stared blankly into the mirror as if trying to look into his past, to re-watch his memories on replay.

"We'd watch scary movies together and take random notes here and there, we liked watching the extras and behind the scenes stuff too. It was fun." Stu sat on the other side of me, he seemed a bit melancholy recalling it. "But anyway, I think it's normal to lose it sometimes."

"You think?" I asked tilting my head trying to read him more.

"Yeah, happens to the best of us. I think it happened to us." Stu pointed from himself to Billy.

"What do you remember? Like, from life?" I asked meekly bringing my knees to my chest.

"Bits and pieces, it's all pretty abstract. I remember blood, a lot of blood, and feeling lightheaded, and then pain surging through my body like currents, I think that's when I died." Stu looked down to the floor seemingly lost in thought, or maybe reliving a fuzzy memory.

"The tragedy." I mumbled out looking to the mirror, not knowing where else to look.

"Yeah, I guess so." He turned his head to me, observing what he no longer had. A body. A living breathing body. He couldn't help but feel envy, but if he was being honest she didn't exactly look any more alive than him.

"My parents didn't want me around anymore, so I took what I had and got a job out here, I found this house and ran with it. I had nowhere else to go. They couldn't stand being around me or dealing with my problems, it really hurt at first, knowing my parents didn't love me, but I've gone numb to it now." I fiddled with my fingers awkwardly, not knowing what else to do.

"Sounds like my dad." Billy chuckled beside me, I turned to look at him, he was sprawled back on the mattress looking at the ceiling. "He was a real ass. I hope I ruined that pricks life as much as he ruined mine."

I wasn't sure what came over me but I reached for Billy, and I touched him. It was a reassuring touch, one of understanding, but it felt weird. I'd never touched him before, unlike Stu. He held the same deathly chill as Stu, a reminder to me that he really was dead. And that I was somewhat still alive, a reassuring and damning thought.

He didn't flinch or try to move away from my touch, he simply let it be.

Slowly he raised his hand to mine and laid it upon the dorsal side of my hand, his fingers encapsulated me, the cold quickly sunk deep into my bones and through every nerve in my hand, the chill crept up my arm and flowed in my veins leaving an unearthly cold in my whole being. Yet, it was comforting. It was him.

"I'm sorry." I whispered turning my head to stare at him and my hand in his, now sitting on his abdomen.

"It's alright, I'm dead now so it's not like it really matters." He spoke without care or real interest in pity or sympathy. But, I could tell he didn't want to let go of my hand.

"I got left behind a lot when my parents would go on trips, and when I died they left me entirely. Just- up and left, I could tell they were disgusted by even standing in this house. I knew they were mad with me, and I knew that they grew to hate me. That's why they left, I just know it." Stu turned on his side to look at me, and I looked at him. His eyes were dull, lifeless, but held so much residual pain and sorrow from the life they no longer lived.

"Is it really actually cool to be dead?" I asked not knowing if I really wanted to know the answer, if I really wanted to shatter my fantasy, the fantasy that I'd known for longer than I could remember. Something I lived by, something I used to get through things, through my day, something I used as comfort in an otherwise comfortless world. The knowledge that I'd die someday, that when I died everything would be alright, that the pain would stop. But seeing these two now, and the pain they still were forced to carry, my fantasy was beginning to waver.

"No, not really." Billy spoke honestly, not thinking of sparing my feelings or the world I had built off of this ideal. Something my brain had reinforced so much it was all I had anymore. The thought of dying.

"Oh." Maybe it was a good thing for this fantasy to crumble, it was all I had been thinking of for a long time. I became so dependent on the thought of dying I had forgotten to live. And now I wasn't sure if I still had time to try and live. If I still knew how. I could still find peace in death, hold tightly to the belief I'd one day go to some sort of Valhalla. Somewhere- anywhere I can be at peace, even if just the cemetery, under the trees, in the shaded cool breeze of an eternal autumn. But I was beginning to wake up to the fact I needed to live while I was here. I had a whole afterlife to be dead, but only one life to be alive.

"Don't worry too much about dying, just try and live while you can. You never know when it's all going to end. In the end no matter what you do you're going to die, take comfort in that if you want. But just try and live while you're here. Being dead isn't bad, you get to exist without responsibly or anything, you can just be alone and be left alone. But living is what's really good, I'd do and give anything to be alive again." Stu placed his hand on my shoulder bringing me from my thoughts, I looked towards him with understanding. I knew he was right, I knew I was wasting my life. But as I pondered his words more, a despair settled in my heart, I didn't know how to stop decomposing. I didn't know how to live anymore. Can being alive be defined by more than a pulse and breath in your lungs?

"I don't know how to live anymore, and I don't know how to stop being a floater. I want to live. I want to live. I want to be alive and experience things the way someone should, I want to feel and I want to live like I should have been this whole time." I brought my knees to my chest holding them tightly against myself as my mind began to spiral once more.

"Then let us teach you, we can teach you to live. Help you not make the same mistakes we did. Teach you not to care what people think of you, or how they look at you. You exist, and you exist for yourself. The only person who needs to see you to exist is you. No one else matters, don't live to please people as I did. It only leads to pain and suffering, until you can't feel anymore pain and snap." Stu leaned in closer trying to fit himself into my field of vision, trying to get me to see him.

"Is that even something that's teachable? Somewhere along the line I went numb to everything, I stopped feeling and lost the very thing that makes you alive, makes you human. I've forgotten what it is exactly that makes you 'alive'. And I'm afraid it's too late for me to find it. I don't know if I even could find that sway and glow again. I'm scared it's already too late for me, I'm scared I had the world in my hands, scared that I had the power to choose any fate I could have ever desired and I just chose wrong, I'm scared It's too late for me to change. For me to choose to live."

"It's not too late. You're still here, you're heart is still beating, pumping five to six liters of blood per minute through your living veins. You're still alive. You still hold the ability to choose. So choose, choose to live. And when you die, you can just hang out with us." Billy spoke softly seeking out my hand once more. "We can show you a hell of a way to live."

Smiling softly at Billy and the necrotic cold touch of his hand, I accepted life, and that hollowness growing in my bones subdued ever so slightly. Over time I could weed out the erosion from my mind and body, and use all the decomposition as fertilizer for a healthier life, a healthier mindset. I wasn't alone anymore. I didn't have to do it alone, I had help from the dead, from where I would end up one day. Maybe that was the most comforting part. I had somewhere to go if I failed. I could shine a light on the thoughts compelling me to think of the grave, and finally face them, I no longer had to allow them to haunt me. I could set myself free from the ghosts of my past.

I could open my curtains and stare right back at the world, I could feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, let it seep deep into that hollowness in my bones. Allow the healing process to begin, it'd be a long one, but the first step could be taken, when morning comes with a new dawn I could cross the threshold that's been taunting me for so long, even if just one step past it. I could get some fresh crisp air.

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queer-and-nerdy · 9 months

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greetings, this is linnie's (@wellgoslowly) emo metalhead roommate aaron (resident george karim kinnie) here to drop some random lockwood&co headcanons that will likely only make sense to a niche audience. thank you and enjoy.

projection central here.

Lockwood

Barbie vs Oppenheimer: Barbie

A James Hetfield kinnie 100%

His favorite Sleep Token TMBTE song would def be The Apparition but he cries himself to sleep listening to Rain and thinking about Lucy

His favorite Ghost song from each album are Con Clavi Con Dio, Idolatrine, From the Pinnacle to the Pit, Dance Macabre, and Spillways. His favorite ghoul is Mountain and his favorite ghoulette is Aurora

Cried so hard he threw up when "So Much For Stardust" came out (average Fall Out Boy enjoyer)

AGGRESSIVE Metallica defender

Lucy

Barbie vs Oppenheimer: Oppenheimer

The definition of a Rob Trujillo kinnie

Her favorite Sleep Token TMBTE song is Rain for sure. She cries listening to Euclid. Vore is on her sleep playlist

Her favorite Ghost song from each album are Stand By Him, Per Aspera Ad Inferi, Cirice, Life Eternal, and Respite on the Spitalfields. Her favorite ghoul is Swiss and her favorite ghoulette is Cirrus

Recovering My Chemical Romance listener (still listens to them regularly)

Unironic Rob Zombie enjoyer

George

Barbie vs Oppenheimer: Insidious

Kirk Hammett kinnie. I mean look at him

His favorite Sleep Token TMBTE song is Take Me Back to Eden. Maybe a basic answer but it goes hard so he gets a pass

His favorite Ghost song from each album are Ritual, Jigolo Har Megiddo, Deus In Absentia, Witch Image, and Griftwood. His favorite ghoul is Sodo/Dewdrop and his favorite ghoulette is Cumulus

His favorite metal (as an umbrella term) bands are Ghost, Ice Nine Kills, Avatar, Metallica, Slipknot, Lorna Shore, Sleep Token, Avenged Sevenfold, Kiss, Judas Priest, and Type O Negative (because he thinks Peter Steele is hot)

Pretends to be a Megadeth/Dave Mustaine defender to piss off Lockwood (he likes both of them equally and thinks the feud is stupid)

Stephen King is his guilty pleasure - he loves Pet Semetary but cries each time he reads/watches it

please let me know if there's an audience for this lolol

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reddpenn · 2 years

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cactus!

#my roommate is an apparition #art tag i guess

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someonexsomeone · 9 months

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Valentine

Title: Valentine

Author: SomeonexSomeone

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Life is difficult when you're living through a war, but no one told him how hard it would be to handle the after.

Authors Note: Day 4!! I almost missed this week with all the hecticness happening in my life right now, including a stress rash that has spread to my face. Also, because my roommate finally got me to download the FF.net app and all I want to do is read all day. Thank you for everyone who has been liking and leaving kind messages on these! You have no idea how much it makes my day :)

For a long time, the word ‘after’ didn’t exist for Draco Malfoy. A simple word, a word much too short to hold such meaning, such a tight grip on his life, but a word that made his skin bristle like he was hit with a skin-tingling hex. ‘After’ was for people who had the luxury of knowing they were safe in the present, for people who could plan ahead and have some sense of trust that they would make it to ‘after’. Those people were the ones who didn’t have their formative years shaped by a brewing war, the aftermath of being on a losing side (because let’s be honest, Drace always thought, was there ever a time when they could have won?), and then somehow being on the losing side again. His Father was smart to keep things from him, to keep the secrets of the Death Eater whispers just that until they were sure the Dark Lord would actually rise again, but sometimes he wondered if knowing longer would have given him a chance to change, to prepare, to forgo the memory that shot ice through his veins. After all, most people didn’t learn evil incarnate was being resurrected over family dinner.

No, Draco was not ‘most people’, and that made the word ‘after’ that much more terrifying.

During the war, there was hardly time to think about the present, let alone the aftermath. His days were spent hiding, using the one tool in his arsenal he could always trust to get out of participating in the worst of the killing, and using his ability to repress bad memories to cope with those times he couldn’t get out of them. Bullying his classmates, pretending to believe in the Dark Lord’s every desire, playing the role of the perfect heir, all those things he could do in the present. Fake it till you make it, as the muggles say. Those were easy, consequences or rewards come quickly when you have to stare something in the face and not think of the future.

And then one Harry Potter showed up at his house, the building that once made him feel safe and content turned into a dreary cave, face distorted in a near unrecognizable way and eyes that mirrored his own. All at once, the last six years of rivalry came crashing down on him, an ugly truth of near-perfect understanding that maybe, just maybe, the Boy-Who-Lived could actually understand him. Their eyes reflected the same fear, the same pressing desire for all of this to be over, to stop the fighting, the killing, the fear to think about what could come after. Because Harry Potter, the boy, the child, destined to kill the darkest Wizard in the last 100 years, also didn’t have the luxury of thinking of after. He, after all, had people to protect, just like Draco.

So, in a moment that Draco would never be able to put a feeling towards, he looked at his aunt and lied, and felt the split second of desire to think about an after.

That was many years now, of course. Life continued on, even if it didn’t feel like you could hold on for a second longer. Boy-Wonder and his rowdy crew were able to save the day, Draco begrudgingly admitting to himself that there was always a part of him that hoped they would (though he would rather die than admit it out loud), and he walked hand in hand with his Mother to the apparition point, disappearing before the celebration began. He couldn’t think of an ‘after’ even then, hurrying to help his Mother hide their most prized Dark possessions, helping his Father reach out to anyone that would help their case on the Wizengamot, and burying the last bit of his fear so his hands wouldn’t shake when the Aurors arrived to collect them and any other known Death Eaters that survived the War.

The last time he had seen Potter, at least in person, was during his trial. His Father, of course, was sent to Azkaban, his Mother placed on probation for her involvement, and him…let free. He couldn’t believe it. Even as half of the Wizengamot looked on with displeasure, Draco was let free, with minor charges, all based on the word of the same boy who he spent half his life abusing. Even Potter’s face flickered back and forth, like he couldn’t believe the decision he made, but his stance was resolute. Drace Malfoy would be let go as long as he paid a fine to rebuild part of the Wizarding World and a promise that if he ever committed another crime he would face the full force of the law. His Mother wept, his Father shocked. Draco, for lack of better understanding, refused to let himself feel anything but disgust. Disgust for being pitied, disgust for Potter’s good heart, disgust for the horrible ball of gratitude he felt swirling in his gut. He glared at Potter, who only met his eyes with a reflection of his own - now what?

He left London as soon as he could. There was, after all, a War to clean up. The decision was fast, too unknowing for even his Mother to comprehend, but there was something posted on the board outside the Wizengamot for a meeting to collect a group of eligible healers and potionmasters to travel the country, volunteering their time and effort to help in those worst off part of the country. He needed to get away, far away, so far that even his Mother’s compassionate eyes couldn’t reach. The effort was so in need of volunteers they only spared Draco a second glance, and a watchful eye for a while, before letting him join on.

What was supposed to be a few months turned into a few years, gaining more skills and knowledge than he would have ever been able to get working at St.Mungos. Not only did the open air allow his lung to fully breathe, something he once thought would be shallow for the rest of his life, but every day was a challenge in the best way, another victim coming forward with new turned lasting injuries, his healing abilities turned wandless, his potions more accurate than he ever thought possible. Pride, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time, weld in his chest every time his supervisor-turned-mentor complimented him and his work.

“Excellent brewing today, Draco,” she would say, patting him gently on the back.

Draco would just roll his eyes, smirking to himself, before muttering, “Naturally, which always earned him a smack on the back of his head. His smirk, more often than not, would turn into a small smile. And, he hated to admit it, he was starting to love the feeling.

Then, the dreaded day came.

“Your Father has passed,” his Mother’s letter said, a statement that to anyone but him would read emotionless. “His body is being removed from Azkaban next week. I’ll write once again when we’ve set a date for his funeral.”

And, like he had been living for longer than he could remember, Draco said a simple goodbye, a thank you for everything his colleagues had shown him, and left without a backward glance.

There was no time for ‘after’ once he left. Mother needed him, whether she wanted to admit it or not, the funeral arrangements needed his input, and the countless letters of condolences needed him.

His Mother was worried about him as soon as he arrived.

“It’s alright if you need a moment, Draco dear. I can do these things if you need a moment.” There was very little Draco had to work through, if he was being honest with himself. There wasn’t much affection, if any, remaining towards his Father since before the War. When he was younger, yes, Draco can remember fondly the days he trailed behind his Father, imitating his every move in hopes that one day he would be as great a man. But, when War comes knocking, and your Father is a coward, the magical image from a child's perspective can be easily ruined. Though he had his self-preservation skills all thanks to his Father’s example, their relationship had dwindled until nothing remained but that of a ward and their master. His Father was not the one who took care of him all those years, he realized one afternoon as his Mother fussed over him, and had done nothing but prepare him to be a prize offered to the Dark Lord as a bargaining chip to save his own life.

At the end of the day, Draco knew that though the man was a stranger to him by the end, he was still his Father. His Mother at one point loved him, though he doubted he would ever learn if it was a true love or merely an infatuation of nearness, he would not allow her stress to become overwhleming while trying to grieve properly.

It was a never-ending stream of work, but it allowed an all too familiar feeling of dread to be easily pushed down in favor of productivity. There was no time to, not when the house needed to be readied for guests, the garden needed to be arranged to allow a mourning space, and guests themselves needed to be invited. Granted, the list had dwindled significantly in the aftermath of the war, but his Father deserved more than just an open invitation in the Daily Prophet. After all, he would roll over in his grave if so much as one person from the winning side showed up to his wake.

The day was just as busy as the preparations. Of course, Draco should have expected this, but there was such a difference between the planning and the doing.

For the tenth time in the last hour, Draco ran his fingers along the seam of his collar, giving some distance between it and the sensitive skin around his neck. There was just something about the immaculate black robes he wore that made it suffocating to breathe and made the day that much harder. Draco’s resolve hardened. Yes, that must be it.

People were trickling in before the service began, offering their condolences to both him and his Mother. Narcissa was as regal and strong as she had been the day of the War, holding her head high. There wasn’t a hint of the woman who wept openly in front of the Wizengamot, the broken woman who was afraid of losing her only child, and instead found compassion. Even so, Draco occasionally ran his hand down her arm, reminding her he was there.

“Oh, Cissy!” A woman yelled, practically throwing herself at his Mother. “I can’t believe it actually happened! The Wizengamot should have taken him out of there as soon as his health worsened, what a cruel bunch!”

Draco couldn’t help but stare, watching as his Mother politely took the older woman's hand, patting it gently as if she was the one who just became a widow. He couldn’t help the scoff that left him.

A giggle beside him startled him.

“Some people just can’t let an event be about someone else.” Your voice was different, older, a little rougher, but the twitch of your lip was exactly how he remembered it. “I’m sorry about this. My grandmother is always for the dramatics.”

When your eyes met, he couldn’t help the clench of his heart. The corners softened, just the smallest bit of pity within them that made his entire body seize. The last time you looked at him like that, he was apparating away from the very thing that plagued his nightmares…

“Yes, well. I would appreciate it if you could get her under control before we begin.” Your brow twitched in surprise.

“Not a demand? My, my, Mr.Malfoy. Who has been influencing you to be so kind?” He bristled.

“I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re saying-”

“Yes, yes,” you said, waving your hand dismissively. “I promise to keep your secret. No one can know you’re kinder now, image is everything, right?” Despite the friendly tone you tried to keep, he couldn’t help the pang in his heart at the familiar words. The words he said to you so long ago, maybe the last conversation you ever had. “Don’t worry, she’s a dramatic one, but she’s not that heartless.” Draco didn’t respond, merely narrowing his eyes in your direction. “What? Don’t trust me?”

“Those aren’t the words I would use, no.” You winced dramatically. At least he knew where you got it from now.

“Hurtful, Malfoy. But I suppose you have a point.”

The silence that stretched was painfully awkward.

“Thank you,” he said, suddenly remembering where he was, “for attending.”

“I don’t know if your Father would be too happy to see me, but I’m not really here for him.” Draco raised a brow, confusion evident on his face. You met his gaze head-on, smile turning a little fond. “I like this look on you.”

“Can you hear yourself?” He couldn’t stop the snap in his words.

“It’s not very often I can bring you to confusion,” you said, completely ignoring his words. Your hand raised gently, pausing when Draco flinched, before gently resting it against his cheek. Resting, he guessed, was generous. Your hand hovered cautiously near his face, close enough he could feel the heat from your palm, feel the electricity crackled between your skin strongly enough that it felt like you were actually touching him. For a desperate moment, he wanted to push his head into your open hand, take any comfort he could while he could. Who knew when he would get it again.

“What…what are you doing?” Your thumb was near undetectable, smoothing away the scrunch between his brows. Well, trying to at any rate.

“I’ll be staying far past the end.” Your voice was quiet now. “Whenever you’re ready to need me after, I’ll be here. ”

Draco felt his breath hitch. You smiled delicately, meeting his eyes once more, before pulling your hand away and ending whatever moment of peace was created from your nearness. He watched your hair sway as you turned, grabbing your grandmother's arm and gently leading her to a group of people nearby, relieving Narcissa of her duty with a soft condolence. He couldn’t help his eyes as they stayed on your figure, watching and memorizing every one of your moves, letting his mind wander.

“I’m not very fond of the grandmother, but…maybe I can learn to tolerate her.” Draco blinked, meeting his Mother’s eyes.

“Why would you ever need to get along with…her?” His Mother scoffed, the first unladylike behavior she had allowed herself to do in a long time. Draco’s eyes widened.

“Draco, my dear. I know your Father and I weren’t the best example, but I had hoped you learned a little something.” He continued to look at her quizzically. “Go after, okay? You deserve a quiet moment, and I have a feeling your meeting will be exactly what you need right now.”

After, Draco thought. For the first time in who knows how long, Draco let himself be excited for it.

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masterlist l What is Laufeyfest? l Laufeyfest masterlist

#draco malfoy x reader #harry potter imagine #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts one shot #harry potter fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot #draco one shot

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starstruckwillows · 1 year

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♡ all of the city lights - s.b ♡

requested by @goodoldfashionedluvergirl <3

sirius black x fem!reader, fluff, swearing

you and sirius come to a realization while running late

sirius couldn't stop thinking that your uncontrollable giggling was absolutely seraphic as the two of you went tearing down the street, hand in hand, racing against time.

eventually, you came to a halt on a particular street corner, attempting to catch your breath amidst the laughter.

sirius ran a hand through his wind tousled hair, smile bright across his face.

"you alright there, love?"

you nodded, still trying to take in enough oxygen to give him a proper answer.

"wow, maybe you should be doing some more running." he teased, nudging your shoulder.

with a roll of your eyes, "i'm sorry, quidditch star."

marlene and lily had come up with the bright idea to have a fancy dinner out just before you all started seventh year, meaning the air was still warm, and you couldn't blame the butterflies you felt on being cold.

"ah well, can't all be as athletic as me." sirius hummed, leaning his head atop yours as you waited for a break in the traffic flow so you could cross the road.

"alright, mr athlete, do you know what would make this easier? your apparition license."

"yeah, well yours would help too."

you had no further comeback.

the cars broke apart for a split second and you were flying over, sirius prompting you forward.

when you reached the other side you kept going, dodging obstacles with a confidence bordering on temerity.

the next break you took, only a few minutes away from the restaurant you were meant to be at a half hour ago, was so sirius could fix your twisted dress.

"why are we late?" sirius asked.

you cocked your head, "because you spent two hours doing your hair."

as much as you'd loved having sirius as a roommate recently, he sure took a copious amount of time in the bathroom. the two of you developed an inveterate cycle, in which you'd knock on then door and he'd shout 'just a minute', and repeat.

he tutted, "no darling, i mean we need a reasonable excuse. marls isn't fond of my-"

"vanity?"

"beautiful hair," he pressed on, "anyway, i was thinking our cab broke down."

both of you had forgot any money in your rush, ergo there was no cab.

you sighed, "that's a shit excuse, siri, they'll see right through us."

he agreed, "ah, you're right. we'll just tell the truth."

"you mean you'll tell the truth, i did nothing."

"we lost at least fifteen minutes going back to check if you'd left the oven on."

you gasped, "and why was the oven even being used in the first place, sirius? because it wasn't me that wanted pancakes right before we left for dinner with our friends."

"yes you did! it was my idea but you agreed neither of us were gonna like anything this place cooked up."

there was a moment of silence.

"call it quits?"

"yeah, okay."

then, it may have been your hopeful imagination, but you could've sworn his eyes flitted down to your lips.

you felt uneasy with compunction, having harbored feelings long enough, and now hyper aware of your hands entwined and the quiet between you.

but you couldn't hide from sirius, not when you were stood so close, he could read you far too well. you didn't have that talent, never really daring to look at his face for too long.

"can i kiss you?"

sirius had a proclivity for flirting, but his usual cocky tone had evaporated as he inclined his head towards yours.

"please."

his lips against yours had any thought of being late vanished from your head, despite your usual aversion to it. his hands in your hair had you wishing you'd rung and said you weren't available at all.

you had half a mind to do just that now, except a voice interrupted you.

"this was more important than our dinner? c'mon love, you could've done better than this baby."

sirius scoffed, pulling away from you but leaving his arm around your waist.

"hey! who are you calling a baby?" you crossed your arms.

james shook his head in panic, "no, no, i meant sirius."

you were appeased, sirius rolled his eyes.

"thank you, prongs, i've never felt so loved."

the boy glared, "you two are so late, i was sent out as a search party."

you frowned, "then how'd you find us so quick?"

"well, it's was more of a rescue than a search, i have the map..."

"the what?"

james' eyes widened comically, "nothing. come on, marlene's fuming."

you smiled ruefully, "alright, yeah, we're coming."

as you went to step forward, sirius' grip around your midsection tightened and he cleared his throat, "actually, think we're gonna skip this one."

james raised a brow, "really?"

"yeah, er- well, she's not feeling too well..."

you coughed weakly, "no, yeah i'm really ill."

"pads? you're not sick too?"

"probably will be soon. besides i should take her home."

james pushed his glasses up his nose and sighed dramatically, "alright, i'll tell the others... nah who am i kidding, i'll tell them exactly what i saw and exactly what you're doing."

"thanks, prongs, that's great. oh, and, erm, could we borrow some money for a taxi?"

grumbling, he stuck twenty quid of muggle money down sirius' shirt and stepped back with a wave. he made it all of three steps before he spun around and flung his arms to embrace sirius, "ah, i'm so happy for you two!"

you stood slightly perplexed as sirius let go of you to return james' affection. they jumped with a cheer for a moment before parting seriously and shaking hands.

"that didn't... change your mind did it?" he asked, somewhat awkwardly.

you grinned, leaning back into him as he hailed a taxi, "nah. does make me wonder what you've told him."

sirius cleared his throat as he opened the door for you, "my feelings weren't a secret to anyone but you, love, i pretty much told anyone who'd listen."

by the end of the drive, the taxi driver must have been entirely fed up of your slightly sappy and overbearingly happy conversation.

taglist:

@anordinarymuse @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kingshitonly @slut4benbarnes

#starstruckwillows #marauders #marauders era #fluff #sirius black x reader fluff #sirius black fluff #sirius black x reader #sirius black #x reader #fem!reader #sirius black x fem!reader fluff #sirius black x fem!reader

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papaver-decervicatus · 9 months

Text

Teaser... + house keeping!

Wow, I am just besides myself with how amazingly receptive and welcoming everyone has been to my silly little König story. Reading in storage closets at work, affirming bass player fetishes, offering translation help, love of environmental descriptions (ah yes, ecphrasis, my love!) asks, comments, just generally such sweet things, it's been an absolute honor to read everything everyone has been saying here! I did want to briefly explain that since this is a side-blog, I will not respond to comments/tags directly because tumblr would make me do that with my main blog (which is related to people I know irl, and I love them but I do not want my roommate reading my COD smut...) but everything is read and deeply appreciated. Please feel free to send asks (messages are more difficult for me to answer in depth...) As for other house keeping, please please please have an age in bio, or some descriptor that you're of age in some way, also blank blogs are terribly suspicious, changing pfp and descriptions go a long long way! If you wish to be added to a taglist for Cat/Mouse/Den, please comment/reblog/etc this post so I can round everyone up! Anyways, a minuscule little treat for being such wonderful people :) Cura ut valeas~ Caedis

He’s a vision, he’s hard to miss on the horizon, he stands out like a mountain lion against his fellow men. He sways his hips wide, the trusty Glock Field knife he keeps on his belt shines like a beacon. It’s such an outrageously cocky move, to keep glinting metal on his person when she’s sure he’s supposed to be stealthy. He’s tall as a tree and broad as a train and always has some hood covering his face. He’s sniper candy, he’s so obviously right there it makes her dig blunt nails into her arm in frustration. He’s hard to miss, should be her straight shot.

But he never is.

She never gets the barked orders, the confirmation. She’s asked a hundred times. When it’s in the forest, it’s less warfare and more stakeout. She’s not paid enough to know what she’s looking for, but she always sees him. And she’s always been told not to shoot. She stops asking at some point, but like everything else with this man, she doesn’t quite remember when. Her life is a blur of missions and off time and him and nothing else.

It’s been months since the ravine and she’s seen König just about everywhere she’s been. When SpecGru was gathering intel on KorTacs drug affiliations, she saw him in the haunted deserts of Sonora, Mexico where she lies in the dirt redder than blood and coyotes sing her to sleep. She gazes down at him atop crumbling 16th-century Byzantine marble when she picks off the guards of a weapons supplier in Belgrade, Serbia. In the ancient and verdant bamboo forest of Yibin, China, hunting down spy affiliations, she camps across a creek from him for a night.

It’s a small world, but not quite small enough for her to believe just how they keep running into each other. No matter where she ends up, their eyes always meet.

The eyes of the apparition with bloody tears on top of an executioner's hood always flick right towards her, even when she’s under a ghillie or some camo or nothing particularly obtrusive at all. She’s even taken off her scope once or twice to reduce glare, to see if the monster still turns her way then. To see if the cat is following a laser pointer she’s unwittingly putting out.

He does.

He always finds her.

No matter what.

#caedis speaks #navigation -> Cat/Mouse/Den

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shallliveoninsong · 8 months

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|| @empyreanparadisaea cont. from [X]!

'One does not exactly choose whether or not they wish to be in a battle. And you are not exactly well-equipped to fight or flee. My dear Reader it's not like I can much defend you unless your foes happen to pick up the orb out of curiosity.'

The Reader opened their mouth to retort but then the apparition of Sandra held a finger to her lips. 'I sense another presence. Perhaps we can return to this talk another time.' she whispered before vanishing back into the Beyonder's orb.

Perhaps the Reader had been too loud and they had disturbed Kaveh and his roommate? To do their due diligence and check if it were so the Reader rose from their seat and opened the room's door to at the very least apologize.

#empyreanparadisaea #(it be like that sometimes lol)#(also hope you don't mind but this just looked so frickin juicy and funnie)#(up to you if poor Kaveh gets whacked in the face lmfao)#the unseeing [sandra]#(also icb i forgot to make a tag for crystal fren ;w;)#rewind time [queue]

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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 1 year

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Part 4

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 3 🟣 Part 5

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Mentions of blood, biting, vampire stuff.

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: More little vampire facts... I'm having panic attacks so I'm distracting myself by posting vampire fiction, I guess?

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69

“Oh my god, who are you?” You looked at the stranger who was sitting at the kitchen table, looking like he’d seen better days.

“This is Sherlock, he's an old friend,” August said, “he actually lives here, but he’s been away.”

“How old?” you asked, having no idea whether it was a silly question. You turned to Mikey: “Sherlock, your scientist friend?”

“You talk about me?” Somehow, Sherlock seemed to be surprised by that, though for the love of God you couldn’t figure out why. Was it uncommon among vampires to talk about friends?

“She's with Mikey,” August replied, “and she lives here.”

“Excuse me, August, I don't think I should be the subject of discussion here.” You weren’t the random guy sitting at your kitchen table all of a sudden – even though that random guy had been living here for longer than you had.

“Right, sorry, Sherlock appeared here out of nowhere.” You could just tell from his face that August was planning on driving you absolutely insane with meaningless commentary that would clarify exactly nothing about this whole situation. Because that’s what August Walker did; be a dick about things he didn’t need to be a dick about. Usually.

“That's unhelpful!” You exclaimed but August just shrugged.

“It's the truth.”

“What do you mean 'appeared here out of nowhere'?” You were really starting to lose your patience with this guy.

“I mean he appeared here out...”

“August!” God, why did he have to be such a dick? Just when you were about to tell August he was the most insufferable cunt on the planet, Sherlock interjected.

“I'm sorry, darling, allow me.” Sherlock sounded a lot more helpful than August did. Not that it took much to beat his record, but still. “Gift of apparition.” Sherlock said as if that was enough of an explanation. Oddly enough, you found that it was - at least to satisfy your initial curiosity. Over the past days, gifts had come up in your Google-searches about information on vampires – although you hadn’t brought it up with the guys; you simply didn’t know how. ‘Hey, can you do anything cool?’ didn’t exactly seem like the right question, so you’d just let it rest.

“You need to feed, my friend,” August said, offering him an arm.

“You can feed on each other?”

“Technically,” Marshall chimed in. “It will leave the donor hungrier than before. I'm sure Sherlock can give you the full lecture on vampire physiology.” You looked at Mike, a question burning in your eyes. You couldn’t say it out loud, but there was a strangely irresistible urge to offer yourself up as lunch to a guy you’d never even met before.

"It wouldn't be." To your surprise, it was Marshall who answered that burning question you never asked. "In fact, it would be a very lovely offer. Not that I'm saying you have to, obviously, you have a choice."

"She didn't ask out loud" Mike said, teeth clenched. "Get out of her head."

“What is happening?”

“Marshall can... Eh… He can hear thoughts,” Mike whispered. Alright, that was a lovely introduction to whether or not the guys had any gifts of their own – and you weren’t happy about it. “More specifically, I can hear words someone isn't intent on saying. That being said, I can hear thoughts, but it takes a lot more effort and energy.”

“What, you have to specialize?” you snapped sarcastically. It was a lot to take in that – apparently – for the past months, your thoughts hadn’t necessarily been your own.

“That's actually not a bad way to describe it,” Marshall replied. Somehow, his calm tone put you on edge even more.

“Oh, good grief,” you sighed, “does anyone have a PowerPoint? Anyway. Sher-“ The words caught in your throat, but he understood the offer.

“Are you certain? He will need a lot more from you than the little erotic feeding session you dabbled in with that guy.” August pointed at Mike. Your mouth fell open. How? Why? And to bring it up so casually? You felt deeply ashamed. Deeply.

“It's fairly common practice,” Sherlock laughed, “don't worry about it.”

“What, so that's just another kind of oral?” This conversation definitely took a weird turn – or weirder, depending on how casual you thought discussions with and about vampires were to begin with.

“Again, you're being sarcastic but it's not an inaccurate description,” Marshall added. “It's uncommon to the point where it's more like... Never mind.” Something told you it was going to come up later, mostly because you were definitely the one who was going to bring it up. But probably with Mike, and in the privacy of his or your room.

“If you’re serious about the offer, I’ll gladly accept,” Sherlock said, “August is right, I do really need to feed.” He sounded slightly worried, but a look shared between him and Mike seemed to settle his doubts.

“She should lie down,” August said, the same temporary tinge of worry to his voice that Sherlock’s had held. The way they were treating this made you question your decision to begin with. Then again, it hadn’t hurt when Mike bit you, and he’d assured you it wasn’t exactly possible to kill you.

The boys had you lie down on the couch, while Sherlock sat down in front of it. August hurled a blanket at your head, saying something about how common it was for people to get cold.

“May I have your arm?” You appreciated Sherlock’s kindness and politeness about the matter, and the great care with which he took your hand in his. The bite was less painful than the one Mike left on your shoulder the week before, but this time you winced when you felt suction on your skin. What you didn’t expect, was that Sherlock would let go of you nearly immediately. “You need water, darling.”

Before he’d even finished the sentence, Mike was next to you, holding out a glass. You gave them a questioning look.

“Blood is thicker when you’re dehydrated, it makes it more uncomfortable. Drink, and then we give it a few minutes.” Marshall told you. There was a strange sense of calm in the room while you drank the water Mike had given you, and the boys exchanged looks you couldn’t quite determine the meaning of. You suspected that you were in for another long conversation.

“Feeling okay?” Mike asked as he sat down on the end of the couch, lifting your feet into his lap. You nodded – it wasn’t a lie; you were feeling absolutely fine.

“May I?” Sherlock said after a few minutes, and you handed him your arm again. This bite was mostly painless, too, and now the uncomfortable feeling you’d suffered before was gone. The same comfortable warmth you felt when Mike had bitten you came over you this time, and a soft hum escaped from you as you closed your eyes. You were convinced you could just fall asleep like this, that’s how nice it felt.

“Oh god, she really is one.” August sounded surprised, although you couldn’t pinpoint why, or what he was even talking about. That being said, you weren’t about to let August ruin your… ‘buzz’ was almost the right word to describe it.

“August,” Marshall snapped, clearly unhappy with whatever he heard that was never going to be spoken.

“What was he thinking?” As per usual, you were far too curious for your own good – and Marshall wasn’t one to sugarcoat things, so whatever August hadn’t been intent on saying out loud, was about to be thrown into the room without mercy.

“He was thinking 'blood whore',” Marshall growled, “and while that term is used on occasion, it's generally considered to be incredibly rude.”

“Is there an accepted term?” Why that was the first question that popped into your mind, instead of ‘what is it?’, you had no idea, but Walter was quick to answer.

“We call them - you, if you will- ‘naturals’, usually,” he explained. “Sherlock would love to explain the rest of it. And he does have slides, if that helps.”

“Excuse me? Why would those be thoughts he wasn’t intent on expressing?”

“Oh, with permission, I can read any thought. He's basically thinking these things to me right now.”

“And why doesn’t he just… speak?” Sherlock actually chuckled softly at your suggestion, but he didn’t take his mouth off your arm.

“He doesn't want to bite you a third time,” Mike chuckled, “four punctures is plenty for a single feeding.” You saw August roll his eyes.

“Of course sick bastards such as August have the aim to match previous wounds, but it takes practice.” August's eyes were shooting daggers at Mike, but Mike wasn’t looking at him all too friendly, either. The ‘blood whore’ remark had really done a number on the general vibe in the room.

“That's for thinking of her as a blood whore, August,” Mike scoffed before turning to you again for a – well deserved, if you did say so yourself – explanation of what was going on. “He likes the biting, not the feeding –“

“No, the feeding, too,” August added. Mike raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, if you're going to tell her anyways, I'm going to make sure you don't misrepresent us.”

“'Us'? Like, as in... It's a thing?” You wondered out loud.

“Nowhere near as common as the... Previously mentioned... You know.” He made a vague gesture at you and Mike, and that was all the clarification you needed. Him not flat out calling it what it was may or may not have had something to do with the fact that the look in Walter’s eyes could have kept a rabid grizzly in check. “But it definitely isn’t uncommon, either, contrary to what Mike may want you to believe.”

“Are we getting into vampire-kink here?”

"Absolutely." It was the answer you had expected, though not quite what you had wanted to hear. And perhaps you hadn’t quite expected it to come from all three of them – Sherlock obviously still couldn’t talk.

"Ok, color me intrigued,” you said. It wasn’t a lie; you were curious. On the other hand, maybe there were some things you weren’t meant to find out?

"It's an interesting sensation in and of itself. And then there is the inflicting of pain which appeals to some of us the same way it does to some humans,” August explained. It was a reasonable explanation, and one you could understand – you’d never considered yourself part of camp masochist before you met Mike, but he’d done a stellar job at changing that. That being said, the bites seemed to hurt you so little that you could hardly imagine it could ever serve that purpose…

"Any others I need to know about."

"Well, I'm a little hesitant now that Mike has openly called the likes of us sick bastards," Marshall smiled apologetically, "and it's not the biting, per se, and definitely not the pain, for me. It's..."

"The blood? You, really?" August seemed both surprised and impressed. "In your line of work? I'd expect you were desensitized by now."

"It's nice to control the amount of blood that's shed, for a change, alright?" He turned to you again. "These are incredibly personal stories, by the way. For your ears only." You were vaguely aware of Sherlocks teeth withdrawing, and you were in no hurry to pull your arm back, much like Sherlock didn’t seem immediately inclined to let go of your hand.

“Why are you even telling me this?” There were some awkward looks between Marshall and August, but suspiciously little answers to your question. After a moment, Mike snarled.

“No. No way. Sick fucks. No, she's mine.” You were in Mikey's arms and on the other side of the room before you even realized anyone had even moved.

“What? You asked slightly panicked, Mike, what's going on?”

“They're trying to gain your trust,” Mike growled, “they're hoping you'll let them...” He didn't have to finish that sentence. They were clearly hoping to use you for lunch.

“Don't be greedy, Mike,” August said.

“Greedy? For not wanting me to become what? A fucking McBloodDrive?”

“Alright,” Sherlock suddenly said, “maybe I need to give you the full lecture, after all.” There was a strange look in his eyes, the same one you’d seen in Mike’s eyes after he... “But first...” Sherlock disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and returned with a glass of water in one hand and something small in the other.

"Sit down." You were yanked away from Mike - although he was very quick to join you on the couch.

"Drink," Sherlock said as he handed you the glass. The next moment he wrapped you in a blanket. "You're cold." You didn't think to ask how he knew. It was either a super senses thing, or a gift kind of thing. Either way: he knew because he was a vampire. "And take these." He handed you two small pills.

"Alright, now I have to ask... What are these?" You didn’t want to accuse him of attempting to drug you or something, but you weren’t about to take any chances, either.

"Iron supplement, you have a significant deficiency." That wasn't the kind of answer you were expecting to hear.

"How can you tell?" You realized it was a stupid question; it was obviously something in the way your blood tasted, but it just slipped out.

"I did years of research on the impact of vitamin and mineral deficiency on the taste of human blood." Again, not what you had expected. Maybe you should just ditch all your expectations altogether.

"Probab-"

"Marshall, fuck off." He needed to stay out of your head. "Boundaries. For fuck's sake."

"Sorry."

"Sherlock, you said the full lecture comes with slides? Because if so; yes, please. And why are you babying me?"

"Biochemical reaction to the feeding," August explained, "again, he..." He pointed at Sherlock. "... has the full lecture."

"Why don't you take a few minutes to yourself, wrap your head around what happened,” Mike suddenly said. For the millionth time, you wondered how it was possible that he always knew what you wanted before you could even tell him yourself.

"Oh my god." You turned your head so fast you pulled a muscle, but you didn't care. A realization had just hit you square in the face, and you couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid and naive this whole time. "You keep telling Marshall to get out of my head but you... You always know exactly what I want. Let me be very clear, okay. You don't have a monopoly on snooping around in my brain, Mike. I have a monopoly on that. Me and nobody else." The others laughed and Mike looked like a kid who got caught stealing cookies.

"I-'

"No, not you. You don't get to speak. Someone tell me what's the matter with that one."

"He can sense desires," Marshall said, "it's related to my gift. Which makes sense; I'm the one who turned him. Again..."

"Full lecture incoming, I know." So that's why Mike was such an amazing lay. You heard Marshall choke back laughter and were immediately embarrassed.

"If you say that out loud, I'll have Sherlock explain to me just how to kill a vampire and I will come back here and murder you."

"Go think things over in your room, I'll come by in half an hour so we can talk," Sherlock said. It was weird; he hadn't been here long, yet you really did trust him.

"You two; stay out of my head for those thirty minutes," you said, even though you had no idea why, "after that, you can check if I'm alright for Vampires 101."

"That would be Vampire Physiology 101 and An Introduction to the History of Accelerated Symbiotic Evolution."

"Wait, these are actual classes?"

"Why do you think I have slides?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow at you. It was the first time you allowed yourself to take a good look at the man, and you had to admit you found him shockingly attractive. Immediately after the thought crossed your mind, you looked at Marshall, a threat burning behind your eyes. He seemed to understand perfectly.

"You seemed like the type..."

"He teaches," Marshall said, unable to stifle his laughter.

"Where? Vampire university?"

"It's regular university, but the biology department has a few electives. I also teach a mandatory health course at a public high school." Somehow that made so much and so little sense at the same time that it made your head spin.

"I... I need to lie down. Thirty minutes. Starting now."

#mike hellraiser fic #mike x ofc #mike hellraiser #mike (hellraiser)#hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser fanfiction #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #walter marshall #hc sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #august walker #august walker fanfiction

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