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mondaymelon · 2 months

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₊⊹ 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞! | genshin males x gn!reader

「 "𝐡𝐞𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫!"」

— in which you give him chocolates before he attempts to give you his??

— fluff. highschool!au but built like a shoujo manga lmao ... happy valentine's day ~ ♡ another fic will be going out tomorrow :)

THOMA, albedo, ayato, alhaitham, childe, KAVEH, HEIZOU, VENTI, GAMING, CHONGYUN, KAZUHA, wriothesley, tighnari, freminet, lyney ♡

Calling yourself a "romantic" person would be quite a stretch.

Saying Valentine's was your favorite day of the year would be even worse.

Sure, sure, you'd heard plenty of things, from the nagging old man manning the grocery store, always red in the face from regular swigs of cheap liquor, or the seemingly never endless musings from your classmates, swooning and fainting every moment anyone, or more specifically, the leads starring in those dramas of theirs, did anything remotely affectionate.

Young, innocent love, while a splendid thing, for someone like you, your really only option was to endlessly pine after someone who would certainly not return your affections.

The recipient of such foolish affections? That much was obvious. What a rather hopeless person, you were.

At the very least, he seemed to enjoy your presence. A smile would adorn his lips, and he'd always meet your gaze with his familiar greeting of, "Good morning, did you sleep well?"

Fuck, you hated how such a simple line, questioning of your wellbeing, could tug at your heartstrings so effortlessly. The man was playing you like a fiddle, and a part of you didn't try to resist that.

So the moment February 14th rolled itself around, bearing promises of youthful laughter, baby cupids, hearts, and sweets, you tried not to pay heed to the extra weight of chocolates in your school bag.

Had you stayed up late making them just the right sweetness, making sure they were perfectly heart-shaped?

Yes. As stated previously, you were truly hopeless.

"Ah, good morning." Wow, look at you, taking the initiative to greet someone? Truly, a day of magic and wonder! You're almost jump scared at the sight of him in your classroom, just what the fuck was he doing here? He leaned against the doorway, looking terribly pretty in the morning lighting.

This was not doing wonders to your heart.

Upon seeing you, he straightened his posture, looking suspiciously sheepish with an extra non-characteristic, flusteredness on his features. "You're here early today."

"It's Valentine's." That's all you managed to sputter out with that tied tongue of yours.

"Yes, and?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly, not entirely convinced, and followed you to your seat like some sort of lost puppy.

Your brain raced to find a rationale he'd deem reasonable. "Uhm, ah... my friend... is planning to confess to a guy, so I had to come early and help her... set up the place she's planning to do so at?"

"I see... ah," His eyes lit up like he had thought of something. "Are you free after school? We should meet up afterward, so you can tell me how it went...?"

"Yes!" You responded a little too quickly, and cussing yourself out in you head, you corrected it. "Ahem- yes, I'd like that." The burning feeling that arose on your face was starting to become too prominent to ignore.

He didn't seem to pay it any mind, and instead beamed in a close-eyed smile. "Perfect. Then, I'll see you?" You were to bid him goodbye, but he ran off before you could even utter a sound, leaving you rather dumbfounded, blank-faced and still feeling the tingling warmth on your cheeks.

Holy shit, is this my chance?? You’d made chocolates on the eensiest, weensiest off chance that you might grow bold enough to hand it to him, even if under the pretense of “as friends”, but with the violent way your heart was pounding in your chest, you didn’t think avoidance would be an option.

Ahaha, you were making a mistake, weren’t you?

Only one way to find out.

The rest of the day went by as predicted. Fanatic screams and a wave of crazed people chasing after the more popular figures of the school, throwing boxes of chocolates and bouquets of roses... hey, wasn't this a safety hazard? There were other screams too - but not of excitement, but terror as a man was crushed and trampled under a wave of love-sick girls chasing after the popular boy in class 2-A.

You just hoped that he wouldn't sue the school. The place was already cutting enough corners when it came to the monstrosity of cafeteria food.

The bell rang, signaling your freedom, and you massaged your shoulders with a sigh. You'd survived, somehow. As you stepped out the door, a ding from your phone alerted you with a text, and as you lit up the screen, the corner of your lips unconsciously turned upwards into a soft smile.

hot guy <3 - don't forget.

hot guy <3 - ill be waiting for you

Stepping into his classroom, you scanned your surroundings for the familiar sight of the man. Low and behold, there he was, sat upon, presumably, his desk, and staring out the window like some main character. You walked over, trying your best to disregard the clamminess of your fingers - or more specifically, the hand that was holding your homemade chocolates hidden safely(?) away behind your back. His features brightened at the sight of you, and he swung his legs, ushering you over to share the view with him.

"Sorry, did you wait long?" You sheepishly grinned as he scooted to the side to give you space to sit down next to him. As you did so, you were made painfully aware of how his body was still pressed up against yours. “I almost got trampled on my way here, not a pretty sight.”

“...Pretty sight?” He echoed his words, tilting his head as he pondered, the slightest curve of a smile tugging at his lips. “You?”

“W-What? No, I-” You cleared your throat before he could say another word, trying to dispel the blush on your features. Naturally, you failed to do so. “What kind of things are you saying now? Just who’d you learn that from?”

“Haa? What do you mean, learned? I just said the truth, that’s all…”

God, he was so adorable. This man had definitely run off with your heart.

Now or never, you supposed. Standing upwards abruptly, you pulled out the heart-shaped box of chocolates you’d been hiding behind your back the entire time, visibly trembling as you held it outwards.

“Will you be my valentine?”

It took him the count of three to respond, his eyes round and doe-like. He blinked rapidly, and then his cheeks flushed - not with his usual cheeriness, but a red that definitely spoke of flusteredness. “H-Hey, that's no fair…”

“...What?” Damn, was this your rejection? You had expected as much, but-

“I was supposed to give you chocolates first, y’know…”

And just like that, the familiar boy before you reached beside him into the darkly lit space and pulled out his own box of chocolates, lightly colored and wrapped beautifully in shimmering golden ribbon. “It took me so long to do this, and yet…”

“Holyfuckingshitwhat.” The curses flew from your mouth, condensed into a single word. “W- H- Y-You… You got chocolates for me?”

Now this was a first. Seeing his cheeks and tips of his ears all rosy, and seeing him all kicked-puppy-like. He nodded slowly, “Mhm… But, this is good too!”

He likes me.

Hoooooly shit.

“Ah, oh no, I didn’t give you an answer, did I?” His usually soft eyes now filled with panic. “Don't tell me I'm too late, I’ll be your valentine!”

The chocolates, surely, would be sweet. But the sensation of your lips meeting his, the undeniable warmth he bestowed upon you — it was sweeter than anything. ♡

(a/n) lmao guess what. i got sick again. i was sick last month and i mfucking sick and dying again and the only thing saving me is shitty couhg medicine that doesn't even work and like expired coughdrops my couhgdrop supply is running low and oh god i don't THINK IM GOINNA MAKE IT-

hahah anyways remember when i said id come back. well . guess what. ive been working on original works for a while now, but the delulu has indeed returned ( for longer than a week this time, hopefully )

i did work on some stuff during my inactivity! the post will probably be out tomorrow, but please don't be upset if i push the date back :)

anyways whipped up this quick drabble so all of you could be well fed on valentines. remember that its okay to be single on this day, and that there are plenty of other people out there like you. there is no shame in being single, and i love every one of you ! mwah <33

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader, @fiannee, @aether-darling, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori

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wesstars · 7 months

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hot tea

wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: your addams just really needs some physical contact :) wc: 737 tags: established relationship. nevermore ‘university,’ all characters involved are 18+. ooc wednesday. idk something about tooth rotting fluff a/n: first wednesday drabble wednesday, in collaboration with @evilrawr! fluff has been requested by @melrodrigo. still not my strong suit but we’re going for it anyway.

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Steam rose from the warm mug that you carefully wrapped Wednesday’s fingers around, but the heated ceramic was nothing compared to the searing lance of your grasp around her wrist. She watched as you settled yourself down on bended knee in front of her, respectfully pulling back your hands. Her own twitched, minutely.

It hadn’t been that difficult to come knock on your door, 10 minutes before curfew was over. Wednesday knew you’d be there in your dorm, making something absurdly sweet with your—respectably contraband—electric kettle. You’d stepped aside to wordlessly let her in, and she’d taken her usual seat at the foot of your bed. Strewn around were your day’s assignments, a jacket or two, and she wrinkled her nose at the mess. Your lamps cast a gentle candle-eseque light across everything, blurring every sharp edge. The exact reason why she was in your room, well…

“Long day?” Your gaze was inquisitive but warm, as always. Wednesday watched you, taking in your socked feet and soft pants. Then, she did the Wednesday Addams equivalent of what might be considered a frustrated huff from Enid, or a desolate sigh from you: she looked away first.

The reaction was immediate, she noted absently. You tried to catch her gaze again, the slope of your shoulders and the wring of your fingers imploring her to look back at you. “Weds… talk to me?”

She took a slow sip from the mug, avoiding your eyes. To tell the truth, Wednesday was busy aching in the way that she wished you’d reach across the sea between your knee and hers. Her intense feelings were something that she typically kept locked away, not just with the protection of a key, but with a castle moat, bolted doors, and plenty of booby traps. Inside that cage lay other previously dormant feelings, ones that you managed to pull out, sharp knife to soft underbelly, with startling ease. Wednesday set her mug down on the floor, cocking her head at you. Often she’d feel a baser, visceral urge to blurt out whatever thought she had to you. Restraint was becoming more and more difficult, the more you seemed to flay yourself open in front of her for a perusal akin to autopsy.

There was a muffled thump as you got up just a bit to shift from your kneeling posture, and Wednesday couldn’t take it anymore.

She grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling tightly until you were about nose to nose. Her mind knew that your actual body temperature wasn’t that high, even lower than the average, but her cold heart felt the bone-deep bonfire of your proximity as your hands slammed into the bed next to her thighs, preventing you from tumbling into her. You took a sharp breath, a fateful one, as it seemed to pull all the oxygen from the room, leaving Wednesday blissfully bereft of that life force. She didn’t need it, anyway; she was convinced she could sustain herself on the dilating of your pupils, the flickering of your eyes down to her lips.

“Come here.” Wednesday’s voice came out in a rasp, but she reasoned with herself—it was the best she could do after you yanked the air out of her still lungs. That ache of absence turned into a yawning chasm, reserve and restraint tumbling down into that eager maw. Her demand fell into that same ravine, eclipsed by the endless depth of darkness.

You stood from your position to sit on the bed as soon as the plea left her, and Wednesday was impressed at your speed. You pulled her into your arms not a beat later. Everything smelled like a faint mix of linen and honey, between your sweater and your tea, and something in it brought Wednesday’s world to a halt. The skin of your collar was warm against the tip of Wednesday’s nose, grounding like the nip of winter air. The two of you fell easily into your sheets, and Wednesday’s mind finally felt like it had found the smoking gun for the investigation. It settled like a content cat right in her diaphragm, making it easy to breathe you in.

“Is this what you wanted?” Your voice, already sleepy, sent vibrations down Wednesday’s spine. She hummed back, leaning her temple up against your shirt and letting her head fall onto your chest. You didn’t say a word more; you didn’t need to.

a/n cont'd: so... playing with words… what do we think :0

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

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jellyfishbeansontoast · 9 months

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Missed you

steve harrington x reader warnings: reader suffering from period pains

“Come with me” he pouts, your hand is clasped in his at a feeble attempt on his part to drag you out of bed. “Is it because of my friends, they’ll love you I promise” his face is one of genuine concern.

“Steve,” you ruffle your free hand through his hair messing it up, he scrunches his nose up in protest, “most of your friends are fifteen.”

“Not true!” his hand flys to his heart, feigning hurt.

“Go without me, I’m tired” pulling the covers up to underneath your chin.

“Fine, but I’m coming back earlier.”

You watch him fix his hair that you’d messed up before he leaves, not without giving you a parting kiss first. You wish you were only just tired, but the cramps that have inhabited your body since the morning are almost unbearable. You roll out of the bed, taking a blanket with you and wrapping it around your shoulder, slowly walking towards the bathroom. If anyone else had been in the room they would’ve seen a hunched up figure with a blanket trailing behind them. The only thing that seems to make your cramps feel a little bit better is lying on the cold bathroom floor. The tiles are a relief against your skin, clammy from pain. You pull your legs protectively into your stomach and let your eyes fall shut.

“Y/n?” Steve’s hand is warm on your forehead as he checks you over for any sign of injury or illness. “Did you faint? Why are you on the floor?” His questions are endless.

“Just my period” you mumble, gazing up at him through half lidded eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you instantly regret not telling him, his face is a mix of hurt and concern, he’s not angry at you he just wishes you would have told him so he could help.

You shrug your shoulders despite the numbing ache from the hard floor, “I didn’t want to worry you.”

He scoffs, “Don’t be silly baby.” He pulls you up off the floor, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder, his hair tickling your forehead occasionally. Laying you down on the bed he tucks you up in the blanket previously wrapped around you like a burrito and presses a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

The minute feels like the longest minute ever but he eventually returns, a tray full of items in his arms. He sits cross legged on the bed next to you, still in the outfit he went to the party in, and begins pitching the items to you like a sales assistant. “Can I interest you in a large chocolate bar accompanied by a teddy bear and some painkillers,” he places the chocolate in your outstretched hand and tucks the bear in next to you, “I also have a glass of water and cuddles from me.”

“The last option.” You pull the covers over your head, embarrassed.

He removes the tray and moves away quickly changing into some pyjamas, you not so subtly peek out from under the covers during. He slides into bed next to you, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

“Missed you”

“I was gone two minutes.”

“Two minutes too many”

“Didn't you at least enjoy the view" You’re sure you turn into a furnace as you feel the heat rise up your neck, you cover your eyes with your hands. He removes your hands gently, placing a small kiss on your nose during the process, “Peek anytime you want baby.”

#stranger things #steve x reader #steve harrington #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff

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oneshotnewbie · 2 months

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how are you??

i was looking at your list and saw that you write for the walking dead and was wondering if you’d be willing to do a request on it for me? thank you!!

so it’s basically maggie greene (rhee) x teen!reader where reader is like a daughter or a younger sister to her. it’s nothing special or major, but maybe just a cute little story where reader gets sick or hurt and maggie takes care of her and is all motherly/big sister-like with reader?

also reader’s carl’s age, so i think about fourteen then? again, you can change the age if you need to, i don’t mind!

- 🍄 anon

Authors note: Hey, sweet mushroom. I am doing okay so far, I hope you are doing great! At the same time, I hope you like this little story ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The world was a shadowy landscape of ruined buildings, deserted streets and the faint echoes of past civilization. The earth, once vibrant with life, now lay in the grip of a post-apocalyptic silence.

In the middle of this desolate scenario, between rusty walls, lived Maggie with her small "family" - a group of survivors who had come together to survive in this unnatural world. Among them you, whose real name had long been lost in the turmoil of time.

It was the icy wind of a wintry morning that intensified the already bitter cold of the Forsaken Land as an ominous cough snaked its way through the silence of the house. Maggie sensed the icy breath of sickness beginning to spread through the ranks of the community. You, who had previously been a steadfast and indestructible pillar of the group, were among those affected and woke up with a feverish chill.

The symptoms appeared quickly: fever, chills and an exhausted look that bore the marks of suffering. But Maggie, a woman with an aura of determination and keen eye for your needs, recognized the gravity of your situation. Your body heavy, limbs aching, and eyes bloodshot from the fever that burned within you like a raging fire. "Hey, how are you feeling today kiddo?"

"Mags, I feel like I've been torn apart by a pack of wild dogs," you whispered, every movement making your body tremble as the older one approached your bed. Your voice, a faint breath in the gloomy silence, betrayed the exhaustion and weakness that the illness brought with it.

She sat down in an empty spot on your bed and gently placed a hand on your forehead. "You're literally burning. I have to see what I can find to help you. Otherwise the fever will kill you," she spoke with a look that told stories of loss and will to survive as her inner turmoil filled the air. "You want to leave me?"

"Just to get you and the others medicine,“ The group had hardly any remedies left to fight the disease. Medicines were in short supply, and the improvised teas offered no protection against the creeping germs. The post-apocalyptic world was not forgiving, and illnesses often became inescapable judgments. But the woman in front of you refused to just abandon you to your fate. Her connection to you was deeper than anyone else's. You had become like a little sister to her, someone she wanted and even needed to protect and support. "Carol will stay with you for the time I'm gone and take care of you. I'll get back to you as soon as possible. I promise."

With one last goodbye kiss, she left you in bed and set off with Daryl to do everything they could to bring you relief while, without her, time blurred into an endless succession of feverish hours and cough-ragged days.

The sun had long since hidden behind the toxic clouds in the sky when the search for medicine became a fight for survival in the shattered ruins of the buildings. The footsteps on broken glass and the constant gusts of wind blowing through the dilapidated shutters seemed to underscore the urgency of the mission.

She searched for medication in numerous abandoned pharmacies and barricaded doctor's offices. Her hands, battered by the cold and the endless digging through rubble, searched for the glimmer of hope amid the devastation until she finally came across locked cupboards, the only contents of which were a few bottles, expired medication and a few blankets. Maggie wasn't discouraged and took everything she could find. With a tenacity driven by her love for you, she returned to make use of what little she had found.

"Here, take this, sweetheart," she said, handing you a handful of expired medication. "It's not much, but it should at least bring down the fever a little." You smiled weakly and accepted the pills gratefully, barely getting into a sitting position. "Thanks. I don't know how I would do this without you."

She waved it off as if it were obvious. "In these times, we need to stick together. No one should wander alone in the dark. Especially not you," she helped you take the pills and then spread an extra blanket over you. "You're like my little sister, y/n. If something happened to you- I would never be happy again."

Over the next few days, your bedroom became a kind of makeshift hospital room and she began to care for you with a mix of old survival instincts and an unwavering caring nature. Blankets and hot water bottles became weapons in her fight against the invisible threat that took over your body.

The wind howled around the corners and an icy storm raged outside as the brunette spent the next few days cooking soups that she laced with fever-reducing drugs. She woke up by your side nightly, placing wet towels on your hot forehead and whispering soothing words into the darkness while you slept. The nights were long and quiet, interrupted only by the patients' wheezing and the crackling of their movements.

The group watched as the woman, who otherwise seemed so stoic and aloof, cared for you tenderly and self-sacrificingly. The others, who otherwise only knew the harsh reality of everyday life, witnessed a love between strangers that became family and that was more precious than any resource in these times.

Time crawled by and the disease tried to tighten its ugly claws. But Maggie's care and love proved to be powerful weapons. You fought against the disease, strengthened by their tireless help and solidarity support.

You lay weak, but your eyes still sparkled with life. In the quiet moments between feverish bouts, you and Maggie found time to talk quietly. "You have to stay strong, y/n. The world may have fallen apart, but we can't let it break us," she spoke as she cooled your forehead.

You smiled weakly, your eyes glassy with tiredness. "You're like a mother to me, Mags. I really can't imagine what it would be like without you."

Maggie just sighed quietly. "You are my family. I can't imagine what it would be like without you either."

The days passed and the illness slowly faded away like the side after a storm. You struggled back to your feet, strengthened by her unwavering belief in survival. The post-apocalyptic world may have been one of destruction and loss, but in this small corner of reality, humanity shone in its purest form, igniting a flame of hope for every survivor who walked the streets of Alexandria.

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un-unavoidableanxiousball · 4 months

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✨ Meowpheus ✨

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<- Previous Part Next Part ->

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Masterlist Masterlist²

Prompt used: Panic Attack

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: The Sandman

Pairing: Dream of The Endless/Hob Gadling

Characters: Dream of The Endless, Hob Gadling

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, possible out of character

Warnings: panic attack

Word count: 936

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╰┈┈➤ PREVIOUSLY

Hob's jaw practically hit the floor. Where before a cat was lying on the couch's armrest, now sits his Stranger.

Silence stretches as Hob's staring wide-eyed at his Friend, and Dream avoids making eye contact.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Spending time with Hob has been a rare delicacy. He got too comfortable.

Oh, how Dream wishes to curse his sister for her timing, but he won't. He has foolishly forgotten it wouldn't last forever, didn't even know when Desire planned to end this charade. He couldn't stand the thought of it ending at all.

The moment Death has come, he was instantly filled with dread. He saw the confusion on Hob's face at Death's actions and could anticipate Hob's realisation, hurt, and inevitably betrayal.

He had to brace himself for rejection and Hob's justified anger.

Perhaps Hob will forgive him again?

No. No, before it was out of his control to miss their meeting. But this— this was intentional. Perhaps it'll be the last straw and Hob will want him to leave and not come back. That thought alone coiled his being tight bringing out a humid storm inside him.

He doesn't want to lose him. Hob is his friend, he takes the loneliness away. He doesn't want to but Hob deserves better. If he'd wish it Dream will go back to being alone again.

Distantly the Dreaming is enveloped in a dense fog, so thick that if one were to slice it, it would only leave a faint cut; making it all that difficult to move. Few unlucky denizens, scrambling for shelter, were slowed down, practically unable to move further. Nightmares with their sharp edges come to rescue dreams not strong enough to manage these conditions.

It will feel wrong, he will feel wrong. Alone again. Too soon.

Hob deserves to be free of him but oh, how he'll miss the human's warmth. It's unfathomable and ultimately unavoidable, he'll get used to being cold again. He must. Hob's worth it.

He can already feel the upcoming cold; a sharp, white noise of irritating itches.

The Dreaming's air stilled as the mist has frozen, dreams and nightmares alike feel disbelief, and andrenaline. The ice is of irregular shape - crystal-like, and sharp shards forming from the rain stab surfaces with hisses and whizzes.

Unbearable, it'd be unbearable but Dream will endure. For Hob.

No. Better not to think of Hob, it'll be too painful. Yet it was the thought of Hob that made him steel his resolve inside the glass.

He hears nothing. Everything? It's ringing, humming?

Hob? Yes Hob. Soft Hob with bright gentle eyes and joyous smiles, comfortable and warm and safe.

Where is he again? Silence is buzzing within him. When did the air go stale?

Wrong. What's wrong? What did he miss? Hob might know. Hob's clever.

Dream stills as melodic notes reach him.

*Fr---d! Dr--m?*

No, not notes, voice. Warm and concerned. Safe... Is that Hob's voice surrounding him?

*...d you to c-me back.*

Hob.

*You're safe. I'm here. You c-*

With Hob, safe. Yes. What is he doing here? Did Burgess get him too?

*-ry later. Gonna touch you now. Okay Friend?*

The moment Hob's hand made contact with Dream, time resumed in the Dreaming. All shards, previously suspended in the air, violently plunge to the ground with a shatter.

Hob's touch was enough to startle Dream back to Hob's flat and away from Burgess's basement. Not yet enough for Dream to calm.

"I need you to focus on me. Alright?" Hob's concerned voice fully reaches Dream. Then hesitant, Dream slowly drags his eyes upwards to Hob's face. That earned him an encouraging smile. "Good. That's it. You're doing great." Hob says and leads Dream's hand to put against his chest, then "I want you to match my breathing now."

Dream mimics the slow and steady movement of Hob's chest. After a while Dream has found his voice; his mind fully present with Hob.

"I'm sorry." He says and then Hob's smile turns sad.

"Nothing to apologise for my Friend. I'm no stranger to panic attacks." Hob says, gentle.

Dream's eyes flutter shut to stop tears from appearing. Why is Hob gentle with him? He surely doesn't deserve it.

"I should leave. I'm sorry for intruding, Hob Gadling."

"Who said anything about leaving? And you truly didn't bother me or intrude." Hob blurts out, hand darting out to grasp Dream's arm as Dream started to stand. "While I can't deny I have questions. They can wait. I'd rather be sure you're alright Stranger." Hob spoke with a strained, nervous grin, his grip on Dream's arm weakening.

"If...I'm alright? Certainly you must wish me gone for invading your privacy..?" Dream questions, unbelieving.

"Not really, no. I-" Hob licks his lips from nerves, "-I think it helped, helped you that is. Spending time with me. I don't know what happened to you Stranger," Dream tenses slightly, "-but you can come by. Anytime, doesn't matter. If it helps, I'll gladly give you my time." Dream glances at Hob's eager, honest eyes.

"You still want my company even-?" Dream begins, voice filled with emotion.

"Of course." Hob cuts him off. "I fought tooth and nail for the title of being your friend, Stranger. You're not getting rid of me that easily." Hob jokes but Dream can see nothing but the truth in that statement.

"I...Thank you Hob, my Friend." Dream nods, then "I owe you an explanation. I shall meet you tomorrow... I have something to attend to."

With that Dream makes his escape to the Dreaming leaving behind a stunned Hob Gadling staring where seconds before stood his friend.

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@fandom-free-bingo

#dreamling #fanfic bingo #bingo #writing prompts #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #FandomFreeBingo #FrostyEditionBingo #meowpheus #hurt/comfort

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gayfanservice · 8 months

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Request: Something about Billy surviving the mind Flayer and apologizing to Max for being an ass lol

Was requested on my other blog, I do not remember if this was requested to be platonic or romantic so whoops :P

CW; Heavily described blood/gore, Billy lives, sad boy hours, probs ooc

*********

He remembers the pain of the tentacles ripping into his skin; tearing his insides every which way, images burning into his brain as the massive mound of human-rat meat screamed at him.

He remembers seeing images of him being ripped apart and images of the girl with powers he previously tried to kill screaming as she was ripped apart.

He remembers tears falling down his cheeks as disoriented images of his friends forced their way into his brain, mocking him, telling him how he failed as a son, as a brother, and as a friend.

He remembers seeing images of his best, and only, friend torn apart or crushed over and over again. How (Y/N) had tried to save him before being crushed into the wall. It played in his mind, unaware that his best friend was right behind him, crying for Billy.

Max’s images burned into his retinas as they replayed the in worst fashion; it gruesomely detached her limbs, or decapitated her. More and more images of his step-sister played into his mind as the fleshy tentacles burned and tore his insides. Billy couldn’t take it, screaming that Max didn’t deserve anything happening to her. She deserved better than what this thing was showing him, reminding him how he failed as an older brother, tormenting her every day. She deserved a normal life with a normal older brother, but Billy didn’t let her.

He remembers how memories of his life popped up; how he enjoyed time with his mother, when she was still alive. How his relationship with his father became more strained after she died, how he tormented Billy everyday. When Neil met Susan and eloped, and Billy started to torment Max.

He remembers how Max would look at him with that angry look whenever he was around her. How she avoided him. Max didn’t deserve anything Billy did.

He remembers meeting his best friend for the first time at a skate park, (Y/N) had almost crashed into him and they got into an argument. They met again at a convenient store, buying the same drinks and snacks. (Y/N) made a joke about how they must be estranged twins. He doesn’t know why, but they just became friends.

All Billy could think about was how he failed Max, (Y/N), and everyone else

——————

Billy felt weird. It was warm but he shivered. The pain was replaced by an intense numbness, murking up his brain and turning everything fuzzy. He couldn’t understand what was happening; was he dead? In hell? Was Max alive? Is she okay? Is (Y/N) alive and okay? He couldn’t tell. Maybe the endless void and disoriented noises were punishment for Billy. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t even know if he had eyes in this mysterious place.

A faint beep caught his attention. Did he turn? He couldn’t tell, but the beeping got louder, and louder. Was Satan finally arriving to take him to hell? The noises around him became louder; a faint buzzing, weird sounds he couldn’t make out, and… talking? He couldn’t tell, but it was becoming clearer.

A dull uncomfortableness raised in his throat, stoping at his chest. Something heavy was on sitting atop his face, covering his nose and mouth. His skin felt tight in places, most prominently on his torso, as if bandages were wrapped around him. He could feel himself breathing, the hairs on his arms sticking up, his brow muscle twitching as the darkness lit up. Billy was so tired, but he was so curious as to where he was.

His eyes finally opened, the white ceiling was the first thing he saw. Billy’s brain felt foggy; he was confused on where he was, no longer could he remember what he was whining about just moments ago.

“… Billy?” Billy slowly turned towards the voice, his eyes gliding across the room and stopping on (Y/N). He would smile if whatever was shoved down his throat wasn’t so fucking uncomfortable. (Y/N) slowly got up from his chair with the help of crutches, “Hey, pal, long time no see.” He joked, standing by Billy’s side as he pressed the CALL button. Billy’s looked around the room, his eyes landing on what little he could see from his position. He settled on (Y/N), taking in his appearance. He looked so… different. His eyes, though the same color and shape as always, held a different look. He had bags under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in months, years even.

Billy watched as (Y/N)’s eyes watered, a few tears falling down his face as he pulled a chair up with his foot, slowly sitting down again. “It’s been a couple months, Billy. Glade to see you pull through.” He couldn’t believe it. He had been asleep for months? (Y/N) wiped away his tears, sniffling, obviously embarrassed to be crying, “I’m so sorry, Billy…” He whispered, head leaning on his crutches. Why was he sorry?

The door to the room opened, two nurses and a doctor came in. The breathing tube-thing was removed from his throat, leaving a tingling, more uncomfortable feeling in his throat. Why was (Y/N) sorry? Where was his dad? Where was Max?

“… Max..?” His throat was scratchy and stiff, the nurse offering a cup of water before they left. “She’s okay, Billy, she’s safe.” Questions raced in his head, but he felt at ease knowing that Max was safe. But why? What was she saved from? What happened? Why am I here?

The Mind Flayer popped into his head, like a shitty jump scare from a horror movie. Memories of that night lodged their way into his brain as he remembered everything, from trying to kill Max to almost being ripped to shreds. Billy suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotions. He was sad, happy, a little hungry, but mostly angry. Angry at himself for everything, for what he did and didn’t do for Max. She wasn’t even here to greet him for being alive. His dad wasn’t either but he didn’t care about that. Billy was such a shit person to her, why would she care if he was alive?

Billy cried, not caring that (Y/N) would see him. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“Billy, no, you’re fine,” (Y/N) didn’t know why he was comforting him or why he was even apologizing. He grabbed Billy’s hand in a firm grip, “You’re fine, Max is fine, we’re all fine.” His voice cracked. Billy’s unoccupied hand landed on his face, covering his eyes as he trembled. He just wanted to see Max, to apologize to her and promise to be a better older brother. To protect her from bullies and be the best damn brother she would want. But he can’t, she’s god knows where and he’s here, stuck rotting in a hospital bed with his best friend, but that’s the most he could ask for. It’s the most he deserves.

Max stood in the doorway, feeling too awkward to say anything to the two crybabies. She wondered if it was too late to walk away, forget this ever happened and go on her merry way. But, Billy did save her, or try to, and he deserved something for that. She cleared her throat. The two looked towards her like deer in headlights, “Uh, hi,” this was too awkward for her.

“Max…” Billy took a shaky breath, trying not to full on sob in-front of two people. Max stood closer to the bed, feeling tears of her own fill her eyes. Even though he put her through hell, she couldn’t help it. “Max, I’m so, so sorry,” he started, his grip tightening around (Y/N)’s hand. Max felt her face become wet, snot starting to clog up her sinuses, “I was such an asshole to you, an unfair asshole.. a-and I know that you hate me but please, please I am so, so sorry,” Billy cried, no longer caring how pathetic he may look, “I promise, promise to be better,” Max sniffled as she listened to Billy. Her face contorted as she cried, coming to Billy’s empty bed side and holding his other hand. “Okay, Okay, Billy.”

*********

Um yeah if its good please tell me 👍

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #billy hargove x male reader #billy hargove x reader #max is also here lol

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notyour-valentine · 8 months

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A Fair Exchange XLIII ~ Aemond Targaryen x Reader/OC (Angst)

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All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Summary: The heart of the storm I guess

Warning: bullying, blood, mention and threat of violence and death, mutilation, mention of torture and death, childbirth, injury, misogyny. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)

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Previously

Part XLIII

There was a song the singers sang on Dragonstone, about the age of heroes, before the Stormlands got their name.

In it Elenei, the daughter of the storm god and the sea god fell in love with a human and gave up her immortality to be with him. Out of wrath and loss, her divine parents subsequently spent their days causing havoc at her home destroying keep after keep until her husband asked Bran the Builder for aide, who forged that cursed, hideous castle that would be known as Storm’s End as no amount of wind or sea could find a weakness in it’s structure. In the keep, Elenei would live out her days with her husband, who was thereafter only ever called Durran Godsgrief for the agony he caused her parents.

Well, right now it seemed as if Durran had decided to take Elenei for a joyride in their little sailing boat, as the winds tore at what remained of the sails, while the waves rose so high, they washed over deck with every second heartbeat.

They had long all tied themselves to the mast, although there was a risk it would shatter at any moment, a risk they had not told to Aemond, but given he had finally relented to stay with Jaehaera, he may have understood on his own.

For her and Luke, there was no such reprieve.

They needed any and all strength, skill and knowledge to keep the mast from snapping and the boat from capsizing.

Aemond’s strength would have come in handy, but he lacked the skills they knew, the lessons they had been taught, and understanding of commands they could give even in spite of the howling wind.

Salt burned in her eye, and burned on her chapped lips, but that was nothing compared to the sting on her palms where the ropes had torn open the freshly healed flesh, letting blood run down her hands with saltwater and sweat as she tried her very best not to be completely useless.

When she had been little, she had been afraid of thunder, of the screaming winds and crashing waves, so afraid she had crawled into her mother’s or her father’s bed, or even into Jace’s, for fear the sharp gusts or crashing waves could carry her away.

But there was no Jace, no mother and no father, no Tyseleys to withstand any earthly force.

It was just her and Luke, and the desperate need to somehow make for the place Aemond had called the Sapphire Isle.

That castle better have a ceiling of sapphire, she thought bitterly, tasting nothing but iron and salt in her mouth as she wiped her eye with her sleeve only to get more salt water into it.

There was nothing sapphire about the sky, or the sea, or anything even. If it really was due to the colour of the sea it should be called the pitch-black-pile-of-mould Isle instead.

There was nothing blue about the water, the skies or the rocks, all murky and dark and horrible as Luke steered the boat towards the small lights that promised civilization, and with it salvation, or at least the hope for it.

She only began to realise the throbbing in her arms when they were close enough to see the faint outlines of the docks in the bay, though any castle, keep or tower was still concealed to them by storm clouds and endless rain, no longer drops but seemingly endless strings from the heavens.

But after being soaked to the bone in seawater, that didn’t matter either.

Once the boat made it close enough to dock, Aemond handed her Jaehaera and offered to help once again.

He too was soaked, his sapphire eye as black as the sea and the sky, but while they had been shaken about, he had kept what little remained of their food and water reserves, their jewels and most of all Jaehaera safe.

The girl had fallen completely silent, her eyes staring into the night like pale moons, frightened into an almost frozen state.

“It’s alright now.”, she promised Jaehaera, as she undid the knots that tied her to the mast.

“Look, we’re almost on land.”

Still, the girl was soaked too, silver strands of hair sticking to her forehead.

“It’s alright, sweet girl.”, she told her, kneeling down in front of her, cupping her face. It was easy for her to wipe the strands away, but would be a far more difficult thing to take her fear away.

They had succeeded this long, but the waves and the wind scared her as she had been as a little girl.

“We’ll be warm soon.”, she told her, and hoped it would be true.

As soon as she had said that, some sensation made her head turn.

Luke had jumped onto the slippery gray stone of the dock to fasten the boat, Aemond stood at the helm, but they were no longer alone.

In the darkness and rain it was difficult to make out the weather cloak wearing men, almost making it seem like there were three floating specks of red, like little fireflies, ready to be plucked from the sky.

There were four of them, three soldiers and one leader.

"What is your business?", The leader demanded, shouting at Luke to overtone the wind.

"We had to dock to avoid the storm.", He tried to reason, scrambling to get to his feet.

"Do you have a permit to land in Stormland ports?", one of them demanded.

Luke glanced back at them, his eyes pale in the dark.

"Answer me, boy!", He roared.

Those three words were enough to make her resent him and his entire flock.

“Stay back!”, Aemond hissed under his breath, stopping her on her way to aide her brother. His words had come in quick succession, barely more than a sharp gust of wind, but it told her he recognised the same trouble she sensed.

In one swift motion he had reached down, lifted Jaehaera up and into her arms before jumping the gap to the dock.

She didn’t want to stay back. She wanted to help Luke, but now she had Jaehaera too, and there was no way she could get off of the boat safely, with the wood and stones slippery from the rain, and Jaehaera in her arms.

But that didn’t stop her from coming as close as she could, while still remaining on board.

"We demand to see Lord Tarth.", Aemond said, building himself up to his full height as his silver strands stuck to his forehead, soaked through with the rain.

She held Jaehaera close, trying to shield her head from the rain, at least with her hands. There was little else she could offer.

Whatever the guards responded was drowned out by the wind, but their faces were tainted by mockery.

She did not know if she should go and join them or stay back with Jaehaera.

"We have coin to pay the permit!", She shouted.

And jewels to bribe them into silence, get a room for the night and make off again. Right now all she wanted was a roof over her head and a fire to dry her clothes. That didn't necessarily have to be Lord Tarth's hearth, on the opposite really, since an official visit would mean knowledge of their stay reaching his ear at least.

Whether they even heard her, she did not know. At least there was no reaction.

The head guard got more aggravated, and seemed surprised when Aemond didn't even flinch.

Fool, she wanted to shout. Now was not a moment for pride. Now was a moment to pay them off and lay low.

Not that either of these things seemed likely for Aemond Targaryen.

She could see quick words being exchanged between him and the other man, anger flashing on his face.

Luke on the other hand, had stepped back slightly, his eyes traveling between Aemond and the men, and her and Jaehaera on deck.

If he ever thought of jumping back on deck and making a run for it, he must've disregarded it in a heartbeat. For that, the wind howled too fiercely and tore at the sails with a vigor that made her fear it would tear at any moment.

There was no way they could sail on. The only way was on land, and that meant somehow finding an agreement with the seemingly not altogether welcoming guards.

Then there was a shift, causing a whole lot of commotion as one of the guards jumped onto the deck, causing Luke to leap forward only to be stopped by a second guard, unlike Aemond who had been quicker.

“What’s happening?”, she asked, her arms tightening around Jaehaera as Aemond pushed them back.

“They’re refusing to take us to Lord Tarth.”, he said.

“We don’t need to go to him. Any inn would do!”, she argued. “Aemond, we have the jewels, why-”

He cut her off with a single faint shake of his head, silencing her to keep her words from reaching the wrong ears.

The guard had all the makings of a rat turned to man, small eyes set wide apart, a slim face and a mustache from which raindrops dripped.

“Off the boat.”, he said, glaring at them unblinkingly while nodding to the side.

She neither liked nor trusted him, but since his companion had Luke’s arm in a grip, there was no choice but to obey.

Even in the comparative safety of the harbour, the waves made the boat sway, splashing water onto the shore with each contact.

She stared down into the gap between boat and dock,

Aemond reached for Jaehaera, holding her on his hip as he mastered the transition.

The guard had taken that as his invitation to grab her and half push, half shove her across, with an iron grip around her arm to either keep her from falling or escaping.

Either way, both her feet landed on the wet stone, and when her left heel slipped, she had both his grip, and Aemond’s arm to steady her.

The way Aemond yanked her towards him was not exactly gallant, but she was more than glad to be rid of the guard.

Once more he placed Jaehaera in her arms, leaving his own free to both guide her and create a distance between them and the harbour guards.

Luke seemed to share a similar sentiment, as he reached for her back, glaring at the men.

The rain kept coming down at an unrelenting pace, making her envy the guards and their rain cloaks as they guided, pushed and shoved them to the guard house.

Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered the one they had left behind in Dorne, recalling the fate of it’s occupants. With the same hands that had been drenched in blood, she tried to keep the rain off of Jaehaera’s face.

Inside, at least, it was dry, with a fire crackling.

“Sit here!”, she told Jaehaera, positioning her close to the fire with her back to the smoke in an attempt to dry some of her clothes at least. She couldn’t rub her dry without a towel or without undressing her. So she used her hands and the warmth from the fire as best she could, as they waited.

“Why didn’t you just give them the coin?”, she hissed at Aemond when he crouched down to help her.

“If they see one, what makes you think they won’t take the lot?”, he asked.

Given the cold, the rain and the burn of the salt water, she would have paid a high price for accommodation and passage, but the realisation that they may have paid a price higher than that for their greed dawned on her slowly.

When Aemond rose, did she realise that he was still barefoot. Of course, why would he not? After the pinnacle of idiocy which had been his plan to stay behind and send them on her way, he had not given Luke his boots, and so had to abandon them in Dorne.

On deck, being barefoot had never hurt anyone, but on stone, and at harbour docks there were all sort of things to cut and slice at open skin.

She tried to look for traces of blood, but he concealed it well.

One of the guards had called for a captain of the watch. Unlike the harbour guards, he wore a proper steel chestplate, with the emblem of House Tarth atop it.

As soon as he entered, Aemond rose to greet him.

Even without shoes, barefoot as a beggar, his silver hair tangled and sticking to his forehead from the rain, old clothes dirtied and soaked through, he somehow managed to convey a sense of authority, even in this small room in the guard house.

While she had the desire to cower away, to bide, beg and buy their way out of this, Aemond did not hesitate to approach the captain as he would if he were still in King’s Landing, wearing fresh silks and fine leather doublets.

Once more he repeated his demand to be brought before Lord Tarth at once.

“Wake him for this lot?”, one of the harbour guards sneered. “We weren’t born yesterday, you know? We know your kind. You think calling yourself Prince will make us give you whatever you want.”

Aemond gave him a glare that made even her want to disappear.

“All I want from you is silence.”, he sneered before turning back to the captain of the watch.

“You have a simple choice to make. Either you bring us to Lord Tarth, wake him, and have him decide, or you possibly alienate two princes and two princesses of the realm.”

“But you’re not a Prince. A prince don’t dress like that!”, another harbour guard argued. “Besides, we heard the stories.”

For a split second Aemond looked afraid.

“Stories?”

“Yeah, about her and Prince Aemond.”, another sneered, waving in her direction. “If that were my sister, he wouldn’t be standing here no more.”

Luke’s cheeks flushed bright red, as her stomach dropped. She didn’t know what to do or say, and in cold dread looked to Aemond, remembering the night of the play.

“Hmm.”, he said, turning to the one who had spoken.

“You think you know the truth then, do you?”, he asked, coming so close to him that his frame hid the man from view. “Why don’t you tell it to me?”

She could not see his face but heard the stammer in his voice.

“Well, you know…everyone knows…”

Aemond’s silence only made him babble more.

“About Storm’s End and all that.”

“And yet,”, Aemond scoffed, “You don’t seem willing to say it. Why? For fear it may be true? Or for fear you may actually be talking to the one who did it?”

The man gasped and stuttered, and then ceased making sounds all together.

The whole room fell silent, even the flames seemed to quiet their cackle as they all stared at Aemond.

His face was unreadable to her as he turned away from the man and glanced down. For a split second she saw the boy, his hands coiled to fists behind his back, but when he raised his head, his glare was the same she had faced all that time ago in Storm’s End. The memory alone made her blood run icy cold.

“Like I said. We wish to see Lord Tarth.”

Neither she, nor Luke, nor Jaehaera had said a single thing since Aemond had persuaded the watchman to take them to Evenfall.

It was not for fear of him, not truly, though seeing his wrath in person reminded her of memories she'd rather not think of. Nor Luke it seemed.

He had made sure to avoid his gaze, leading them by half a pace with his hand on her back. She held Jaehaera.

Aemond decided to close their group, surveying everything that happened in front of them.

She could feel the intensity of his gaze as a thousand questions echoed in her mind.

The last time he had been confronted with the rumours he had crumbled, afraid and ashamed almost. Now they seemed to have woken nothing but rage in him, directed at the man who had raised them.

Or maybe her too? Anyone who had a hand in them?

Jaehaera's little hands felt cold against her neck by the time they reached Evenfall.

It was a structure that was more tall than large, with several pale towers rising to reach the heavens. Some thick. Some narrow. Some tall. Some short.

They were not led to the tallest, but the widest of them all.

Her legs ached as she made the ascent to the ancestral hall of the castle.

Delicately carved lapiz lazuli laced with bronze decorated the walls between tall windows showing nothing but the darkness beyond, with a large sheer dome that would reveal the heavens, if the heavens weren't hidden by the storm.

On another day, in another weather she could maybe consider it beautiful. But now it was mostly a little glass orb that seemed terribly fragile in light of the weather.

At the centre of the hall was a round map, engraved into the floor which did not show lands, mountains or rivers but rather the heavenly constellations.

Her eye flickered to Aemond, wondering if he recalled the lullaby, but she looked away before she truly saw his face.

He was standing like a soldier, tall, broad-shouldered, his hands behind his back.

The water from their clothes and hair dripped loudly onto the marble as they watched the Lord of Evenfall enter, accompanied by his maester and the captain of his guards.

Lord Bryndemere was a short man, with round cheeks covered in white stubble. That hair which had not given in to his years, had turned as pale as summer clouds, and just as transparent.

He had to squint to see them properly, shifting to arrange his blue robe which looked to be quickly thrown on.

"You claim to be Prince Aemond of House Targaryen?", He asked.

"I don't claim anything.", Aemond said. "I am Prince Aemond of House Targaryen. And these are my nieces and my nephew."

The Lord of Evenfall huffed, squinted and huffed again.

"Lord Tarth, you swore the oath to our mother Queen Rhaenyra, did you not?", Luke asked, stepping forward.

Aemond gave him a dark glare.

"I swore to Rhaenyra. I cannot attest if you truly are her son."

"There is little likeness.", The Maester said. He was a scrawny man, with pimple marks on his cheeks.

Now it was her turn to glare.

"If you are who you say you are, then this is a most…unlikely companionship."

His pale eyes went from Aemond to her and back. There was no need for him to voice his thoughts.

"We were sent to Dorne as part of a diplomatic delegation, representing all…branches…of the family.", Aemond said sharply.

"Yes, yes. So I heard.", He said. "Prince Aemond, his niece by his siblings, the heir to Driftmark and Rhaenyra's only girl."

Eldest, she thought, not only. She had a younger sister, even if she had never got to hold her.

"But there has been no word of your possible return and the manner is quite, well, surprising."

The maester snickered as if his liege had mastered the art of comedy.

In her arms, Jaehaera whimpered, rubbing her head against her shoulder as if she wanted to draw more warmth from her. If that was the case, she would be disappointed.

She was cold too, but the girl’s skin seemed colder.

Poor thing, she thought, all the rain and wind made her miserable, and undoubtedly little Jaehaera was fairing little better, if not far worse.

“Surprising or not, here we are.”, Aemond hissed. “We require quarter for the night and a ship to take us north.”

“North.”, Luke muttered under his breath, glancing at her. She could sense her brother’s thoughts. North could mean Dragonstone. North could mean King’s Landing. North could mean either or both.

His face turned to stone, while his hands clenched to fists as if to regain some of the control he felt slipping from his grasp. Back on their little sailing boat, Luke was the one deciding the course. Now, Aemond was the one doing the talking.

But she could not care less, as long as they got what they so desperately needed - shelter and warmth. And only then a passage home.

“This is a delicate ask in light of the situation House Targaryen finds itself in,”, the maester said. “Even if you are who you claim to be.”

The “which I doubt” hung heavy in the air.

“How many one-eyed people with jewels for replacements do you think are there in the world?”, Aemond demanded to know. The final word echoed around the dome as if it was bouncing off of the blackened walls.

His anger made Lord Bryndemere jump back on his chair, the old man dropping the sword that served more as a cane than a weapon. It’s clang was so shrill and loud it made her temple throb.

“How dare you?”, the Maester hissed as he rushed to retrieve his master’s blade.

“Look-”, she insisted, pushing past Aemond. “Lord Bryndemere - you are known to be an honest man, a good man who has made the Sapphire Isles gain prominence and envy in the Seven Kingdoms.”

Up to Aemond’s explanation she neither knew the Isle’s nickname nor it’s Lord’s name, but her flattery was not in conflict to any fact it seemed, at least not enough to spoil the honeyed words.

“We come to you in need of aid, in full understanding of the situation we are placing yourself in. But I can assure you that the risks you fear are non-existant. It matters not which of my family, my mother or my uncle, you chose or choose to swear yourself too. Either one will be grateful to anyone who helped our return home. Which mother would not thank the man helping her children home? Which brother won’t be grateful to have their brother returned to them? Which Queen will not shower you in gratitude for shielding her children?”

Which Targaryen will not seek fire and blood if help is denied?

She let that fill the silence for as long as she dared.

“Even if you doubt our identity - there is a child here who was just brought in from a storm at sea. For her sake alone I ask you to open your heart and share your hearth!”

The sickly sweetness of her words turned her stomach, but just like old maester Gerarys preferred his tea slick with honey, Lord Bryndemere’s eyes widened with anything but disgust.

“Is she really that cold?”, Aemond asked, his voice low so only she would hear. There were words he would not share with anyone else.

He reached for Jaehaera’s cheek as they were led up the circling steps of a tower.

The maester had suggested separate apartments for them, for peace’s sake, but the old man saw no sense in parting Jaehaera from her cousin, and since Luke wouldn’t leave his sister, Aemond didn’t even spare the thought of leaving her side a thought.

“She will be fine.”, she told him, shifting her in her arms.

The servants, for that at least he had to comment the old man, rushed to provide hot water for them in the rooms they would share.

There were three bedrooms and a solar that connected them all.

She assured him she was fine caring for Jaehaera, leaving him to his basin of watm water, warmed cloths and soaps and scented oils.

Only in sight of these things did Aemond realise how filthy he felt, body and soul.

He began by dousing one of the washcloths into the warm water, covering his whole upper body in warm strokes, before adding soap. Too quickly did the water in the basin turn black, but the servants rushed to provide more.

It took three more rounds for his body to be clean and two more for his hair to achieve the same result. They did not have the oil he preferred for it, but he made do, before tying it loosely at the back of his head and slipping into some of the clothes they provied.

They were of acceptable material, dark grey breeches and a red tunic that was a little too large for him. The colour looked foreign on him though.

Afterwards, he used his dagger to clean the dirt out from under his fingernails. Until he looked and smelled clean again, but even as he inspected himself in the small mirror, he thought of the things neither water, nor soap and oil could wash away.

Aemond had come to Dorne a reasonably good man, at least by his own estimation. No one was above sin, but he had been dutiful, obedient, had confessed most of his sins and tried to obey the Gods’ will for his mother’s sake if not his own.

There were new sins now; some sinful deeds but the world expected of him, as man and a soldier. No one would punish him for that, or even bat an eye. Aemond knew it would only have been a matter of time before his first battle, before his first kill.

It had come as a shock to him at first, though only after the fact. In that moment, back in Sunspear nothing had mattered but her.

The man had not even been a person to him, not until he lay lifeless on the ground. He had been a threat, a danger to her, and that was reason enough to warrent his death.

He had gone back, to that alley, to that moment, weighing his options as if it could change the outcome. It couldn’t of course. He was a risk to her, to them, and Aemond would have killed him a hundred times over to gain the same result.

There had been others and there would be more. So was the way of the world, and the life of a warrior. Some say, the first kill makes a boy a man. Aegon had said the first fuck would do the same. He was convinced his brother had never taken a life, nor did he have the skill or courage to do so, at least not in the way he had done.

There were other sins, Aemond thought as he rubbed his palms together, sinful thoughts that he would not share with any Septon, confessor or confidant. They were his and his alone. He would not act on them, of that he was sure.

Pouring himself some wine, he watered it down generously, not wishing to risk his mind being clouded as he stepped into the solar, a small well-furnished room with a table, a few chairs and a cushioned bench.

He had crossed it with only a few strides before knocking onve on the door to her bedroom, the one she would share with Jaehaera.

His little niece was bundled up in blankets and pillows, her freshly washed hair in two braids as she slept, clutching that toy knight to her chest, with her thumb in her mouth.

Helaena had tried to correct that behaviour, but no one of them had the heart to, not if they had so little comfort to offer the girl themselves.

She had been sitting on the opposite side of the room, scrubbing what little remained of their clothes in the basin to try and salvage them, it seemed.

Her own boyish clothes she had worn since their escape, that had become just as worn, torn and filthy as his own and would have let her slip into the crowds of Fleabottom with ease, had been replaced by a simple, almost plain purple robe she wore over a nightgown she had been lent.

Her hair was covered by a new scarf, not unlike the makeshift one.

When she heard him enter, she approached him.

“She’s asleep now. With any luck she won’t get a cold.”, she said, sighing as she watched the little girl sleep.

He hummed, guiding her out of the solar and pouring her a cup to match his. There was no use in her to scrub her hands raw by cleaning rags, besides, her palms were already injured and he would have a good look at them before returning to his bedroom.

They had given her an ointment, but she had washed it off in her cleaning attempt.

“Why do you have your hair up?”, he asked.

She scoffed and shook her head.

“I doubt there’s much salvaging that. I braided it in with a scarf and by now it’s too tangled. I shall ask for a razor in the morning and make do like the Essosi.”, she said, waving it off. “Isn’t there a people where after defeat they shave their head to be reborn?”

“Do you feel defeated?”, he asked.

She sighed, glanced down at first, and then out into the stormy night.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”, she mumbled. “We were supposed to be safe. And then we were supposed to go home.”

“It cannot be a defeat if our enemies did not succeed.”, Aemond argued.

The Dornish had tried to trap or even kill them yet they were alive in the Storm Lands. The guards had tried to arrest them in Planky Town yet they were free, and those at Tarth had wanted to turn them away, now he was wearing their Lord’s son's old clothes.

Her only response was a sigh.

For a while Aemond just watched her, the nervous, restless twitch of her hands, the attempt at deep, calming breaths, the way her jaw tensed and untensed with every second heartbeat.

There was no peace for her yet, even now in a castle with a Lord that did not seem too hostile to them.

“Come.”, he said. “I shall have a look at that hair of yours.”

It was a foolish suggestion, he knew, but perhaps it could calm her. It had calmed him when his mother had done so, during his sickenss at least, when any water contact to his face had brought excruciating pain. The warmth had eased the throbbing pain in his temple, the gentle rubs the stabbing behind his forehead.

“It’s not much to look at.”, she scoffed.

He hummed, nodding to one of the chairs before standing behind her. The knots of teh new scared were easily undone, but the knots in the fabric that held the braids together not so much. Even if he managed to remove it in full, he had a feeling her hair would stay in the position it had been stuck in.

The salt, the heat and the wind, as well as days without care had taken it’s tole on her.

“Perhaps it’s best you fetch your dagger and get a head start?”, she suggested in a mocking tone.

“It won’t be that bad.”, he assured her.

“Oh?”, she asked, tilting her head in surprise. “Do you really wish to attempt to…?”

She gestured vaguely at her head.

She didn’t seem to believe him fully until he placed the cushions on the table and sat down at the end of it, calling for warm water as he retrieved the basin, oils and combs from his guest room.

“Lie down.”, he told her, half expecting protests, but after a few moments of hesitation she sat down on the egde of the table and leaned back.

Aemond guided her head towards the water surface, gently dipping it under, with one hand supporting the weight while the other gathered up warm water to let it soak.

Slowly but surely sand and salt as well as bigger specks of dirt and grime came loose, tinting the water as greyish as the storm clouds they had seen. He rinsed her hair a second and third time, his own hands growing puffy from the warm water, before he began to untangle the knots, starting right at the ends.

“The Dothraki.”, he told her as he reached for the comb, using only the first tooth to begin.

“What?”, she asked.

“The Dothraki, the Essosi people you mentioend. But it’s the men that wear their hair in braids. For each victory they add a little bell and if they lose a battle, they have to cut it off and show the whole world their shame.”

“So rebirth has nothing to do with it?”, she asked.

“I doubt it.”

The Dothraki weren’t known for their belief in forgiveness and new beginnings.

“Shame. I thought there may have been some…cleansing aspect to it.”

The only cleansing aspect was his tireless patience. His fingers began to ache after a while but once he had begun he was unwilling to stop.

There were a few particularly tangled and matted strangs that no amount of water, oil and patience could tame, which were a case for the knife, but after an hour or two he could run his fingers through her wet hair without much problem, beginning at the roots he massaged in soothing circles, right to the tips.

He repeated the process until he could be sure before reaching for the towel and wrapping it around it so she wouldn’t soak her dress when she rose.

After patting it down, he sat her in front of the fire and brushed it through, watching the fire reflect on it’s texture until it was half-dried before rubbing oil between his palms and applying it to the lower part and roots,.

What remained was tamed in a loose braid that he fastened with a short ribbon.

“Thank you.”; she mumbled, “you needn’t have done all that.”

She had assured him time and time again that his efforts, while appreciated were not necessary.

“Next time, “, he said, “don’t braid your hair into a piece of cloth.”

That had suffered worse, hacked and torn to pieces and spilled all around the water basin on the table, with those few strands he could not save.

“Still…that was kind of you.”, she said, reaching over and giving his hand a small squeeze.

“I better check on Jaehaera.”, she finally said.

“You better.”, Aemond agreed, watching her go. Before she closed her bedroom door, she glanced back at him.

Once she was gone, he turned his attention back to the tattered cloth and matted hair. It was useless, rubbish by now, with no use left in any of it. Unlike the strand of hair he had cut loose without any nasty tangle or mean knot.

The only tie in it was the one he had made.

She would hardly miss it, or even know it was gone. Why he had cut off a small strand for his own sake, he could not answer, not even with a knife to his throat. But he had done so, and even staring at his prize, he felt not a single pang of regret.

Instead, he braided the strand into a thin rope to keep it neat and fastened it tightly before slipping it deep into his pocket, away from prying eyes.

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts xx

House of the Dragon Taglist

@crazylokonugget @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @rapoficeandfire @sabii5 @itsdanajane16 @cynic-spirit @dark-night-sky-99 @madislayyy @lightdragonrayne @severewobblerlightdragon

#valentineswritings #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen / reader #aemond targaryen / oc #aemond targaryen & reader #aemond targaryen & oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #asoiaf #fire and blood #the rogue prince #the princess and the queen #a fair exchange

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partnersincrimesuau · 1 year

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☆HOW TO DRAW LIKE JINXY: PART THREE - SPACE BACKGROUNDS☆

ALRIGHT FELLAS, HERE’S ANOTHER TUTORIAL!!! This time, we’re drawing SPACE!!! Thank you to my dear anon who asked me to do this, y’all are blessings to me ^^ <333

And without further ado, here’s a crappy tutorial on how I draw the dark yet beautiful abyss of space!!! (On FireAlpaca – although it should work for any other drawing software ^^)

BE AWARE – ALL OF THESE STEPS TAKE PLACE ON DIFFERENT LAYERS. For each step, add a new layer ABOVE the previous one!

Step 1: Start with a completely black canvas, and add asymmetrical diagonal navy blue lines with the airbrush tool or anything similar! The opacity doesn’t particularly matter as these will be pretty concealed later, but make sure they are pretty dark ^^ Also I recommend adding some subtle airbrush touches around the centre or ends of the lines, making the sky a bit bluer ~

Step 2: We add the colours!!! My go-to colours are pink, blue and very subtle touches of green/yellow ^^ These are all applied using the airbrush tool at about 30% opacity. Keep them fairly dark, but definitely lighter than the blue of the background! I mainly apply them horizontally, but this doesn’t particularly matter. Make them soft and fluffy like clouds ~

Step 3: Lighter colours!!! Alter your colours to make them closer to white, (but not fully white just yet!! That’s the next step ^^) and make the brush size smaller than the previous step. Apply these to the centres of the bigger colours, as if they’re the ones that are glowing!

Step 4: EVEN LIGHTER!!! Go over a second time with a white colour, less opacity (Maybe 10-20%?) and a bigger size! Fill in gaps and make it glow ^^

Step 5: The best step – THE STARS!!! I use FireAlpaca’s Particle brush for this step. Always use a variety of star sizes!! Some will be bigger than others, some will be very small, and some will be so tiny you can hardly even see them. Play around with opacity as well, and background stars can even be different colours! (Yellow, blue or pink are my favs). Always make sure the biggest/closest stars are pure white, though ^^

Step 6: STARS GLOW!!! Find the biggest stars on your drawing, add a layer BENEATH the stars, and use your airbrush tool to make them glow!!! (about 50% opacity, using the colours you used previously)

Step 7 (OPTIONAL): After I finish the stars, I sometimes go back to Step 4 (the white colours) and sharpen them. I went over with a transparent airbrush (or eraser, both work – the eraser comes out a little too sharp tho) and sharpened some parts of the white glows. This is just for effect, and isn’t necessary ^^

Step 8: You can actually stop here if you’re satisfied! Personally, I think it’s good… but it can be better~!

GO HAM!!! ADD MORE COLOURS!!! ADD TEN THOUSAND STARS!!! ADD A SPACESHIP OR A SHOOTING STAR!!! ADD A PLANET EVEN!!! SPACE IS FILLED WITH ENDLESS OPPORTUNITES!!!

Step 9 (JUST FOR PIC): Here’s my finished galaxy, with the Injector in the foreground ^^ One thing I wanted to add is that the Injector actually does glow – so in my drawings, I always add one layer of a faint pink glow radiating from it ^^

And yeah, that’s about it!!! I really hope this helps some people ^^ Feel free to use, but if you do test it out, please tag me so I can see how you do it!!! I’d love to see what comes from this ^^

Thanks for reading!!! <333

★｡･:* Hyperlinks to Jinxy’s Other Tutorials *:･｡★

Gemstone base colour Gemstone shading Character shading (Send me an ask if you'd like me to do this tutorial!)

#tutorial #partners in crime #not partners in crime #drawing tips #digital art #firealpaca #how to draw #space #drawing tutorial #steven universe #background

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sleepsonfutons · 9 months

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Mad Dash to the Bingo Finish Line

(Incomplete) Snippet @dreamlingbingo Fill - B5 Last of their Kind

Rating (planned): Teen or Mature

Summary: Paul never rolls Alex's wheelchair over the binding circle, never smudges the sigils to give Dream a chance to escape. Instead, true to Alex's last words, the man never returns to the basement and eventually the guards no longer watch him. Then the lights remain unlit for time untold, the space decays around his cage but it remains pristine. The subconscious collapses back into the sands of raw dreamstuff and the Waking suffers the loss of the Dreaming. Hob is the only one who remembers a different world, a world with dreams in it. He is the last living dreamer, though he has not dreamt in over an age.

(THIS SNIP IS THE FIC ENDING SO SPOILERS BEWARE)

Hob's crying and he doesn't remember when the tears began to fall. They streak down his face as he holds Dream's face in the most gentle embrace that he can. He wishes he could deepen the kiss, crush this being he's loved for almost a millennia to him and never let go, but he doesn't for fear that a stronger touch would see his heart crumble into that much more sand. But then there are hands in his hair and a breath passes between their brushing lips. A faint light flickers into existence in the previously empty darkness of Dream's eyes and Hob kisses him feverishly, Dream becoming more solid with every passing moment.

He's loathe to break the kiss, but he does as he chokes on a hiccupping sob and presses his forehead to Dream's. "What is life, duck?" Hob breathes, watching as more and more stars return to life in the eyes staring back at him, becoming a proper starfield once again. "I'll tell you...living is but to dream of a tomorrow to come. You give us a means to connect with our tomorrows. My Tomorrow. Love of my life, my Dream."

It is at this last declaration, that Hob hears Dream's breath catch and sees true wonder reignite in the Endless' eyes. And then he is lost to the joy and wonder of the moment as Dream kisses him in turn like a man drowning and Hob his truest wellspring, their bodies pressed as closely as Waking reality will allow. It is the moment dreams came true and the scales of the universe began to tilt back towards balance.

#my writing #sleepsonfutons writes #the sandman fanfic #dreamling fanfic #2023 dreamling bingo #the sandman #dreamling #dream x hob #unfinished fic #snippet fill

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acesofspadess · 9 months

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Endless Love 3

a/n: make sure to go read the other parts first(they'll all be on my master list)

summary: Being on The Voice had become a quick dream of yours, and now that you were finally here... lets just say you were in for a crazy ride.

The Knockouts

You and Niall had somehow gotten closer. You would always share your joy on his upcoming album or text him your feelings on a single he just dropped. You talked all day one time about home and each other. You feel like it broke down an invisible barrier.

You were going in today for ‘Knockouts’ rehearsals and you hadn’t seen Niall in person since battles. You were excited to see him. For knockouts you were going against EJ. He had a super strong voice and he was like an older brother to you.

When you heard Nialls cue to come out you fixed your glasses and walked around the corner to see the beautiful boy in mention and Reba Macintire. You squished your face in your hands as always when you saw her. “This is deadly, what?” your Irish accent thick. Niall laughed as he came up to hug you. “Look at you, aren't you gorgeous?” Reba said and EJ caught you as you pretended to faint. “Thank you so much.” You looked at Niall over Rebas shoulder with wide eyes and he smiled with an emotion you couldn't determine.

You walked over to your mic stand as Niall walked back to his chair. “Look at what you're doing to these people Reba.” he laughed. “I'm shakin like a leaf here beside ya.” Reba laughed and you spoke up through your mic.

“You can't be nervous too.” They both laughed as you adjusted. “So the song that I'm doing is by Lewis Capaldi ‘Someone You Loved’. I tend to go for belty and raspy songs or at least some i can modify to that and this is a song that is important to me because i went through something like this when i first moved to the states and im very happy now but id like to leave this song with a happy feeling.” you chuckled at the end feeling Nialls eyes on you.

“Excellent. That's not what i expected you to say honestly” you heard from Reba with a laugh.

You heard Niall under the beginning of the song tell Reba ‘watch this.’

~~~

When you were done Niall was clapping loudly and Reba had a look of shock over her face. “Super impressive. You sounded so good. And I know that was like 95% of what I know you can do. I cannot wait to see your full 100%.”

“There is truly not much for me to say. You did amazing. The only thing I might suggest is cutting your last ‘loved’ instead of holdin on to it. Make it like a statement. Other than that you are amazing.” you tried the line out and agreed you liked it much better.

When you left Niall called you back. “You did great today. Don't sike yourself out with the last line. You'll do whatever needs to be done when you get out there. Now go.” he ended with a laugh and he wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. You waved one last time to both of them and walked out.

“She's sweet.” Reba told Niall with a knowing wink.

“She's something else.”

—---------------------

“Lets go Bleu!” you heard Riley scream from his box as you walked on stage from your seat, previously watching EJ. You blew him a kiss and looked back to the judges to see Niall with a full teeth smile. You took in a deep breath from behind the mic stand as the beginning notes played.

I'm going under and this time I fear there's no one to save me

This all or nothing really got a way of driving me crazy

I need somebody to heal

Somebody to know

You started to really feel the song and move your hands from the mic to emphasise your words.

Somebody to have

Somebody to hold

It's easy to say

But it's never the same

I guess I kinda liked the way you numbed all the pain

You let yourself go and played Nialls words in your head.

Now the day bleeds

Into nightfall

And you're not here

To get me through it all

I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

You took the mic off the stand as you held your last note.

And I tend to close my eyes when it hurts sometimes

You saw the judges reactions to your note change and it egged you on

I fall into your arms

You saw Niall close his eye in disbelief

I'll be safe in your sound 'til I come back around

As you held onto the last note you heard cheers

But now the day bleeds

Into nightfall

And you're not here

To get me through it all

I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

You waited for only the piano to play to finish your last few lines

I let my guard down

And then you pulled the rug

I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

You cut off your last ‘loved’ just like Reba had told you to and when you opened your eyes you saw all four judges standing up and clapping. You covered your face in your hands as EJ came behind you and shook you in amazement. You heard Chance speak up first.

“EJ you had an energy that felt personal. I do think that because you were so into there were moments where the pitch wasnt all the way right, but you enjoying it so much gave us the feeling we were looking for. Bleu, let me tell you something,” he chuckled. “I have never seen someone deliver such an award worthy performance like you just did.” The audience cheered loudly and you saw the judges around Chance clap for you. “Thank you so much, Chance. That means a lot.” you thanked him generously. “I would lean towards my girl Bleu.” you thanked him again as the audience clapped before Kelly spoke up.

“Bleu, I think this is a really great avenue for you. I would love to hear a record with songs like this and the one from your blind audition on it. And you're like this girl sitting next to me in school, and then all the sudden I find out that you're like this incredible singer but you never talked to me the whole time.” you heard Nialls laugh above the rest which made you smile. “You're just a really quiet and subdued girl and then you have this powerhouse voice. That alone is captivating.” you bowed to her in thanks as she moved onto EJ. “EJ i have never heard of that song, but i will be covering it shortly on a talk show near you. That song is so cool. Like the whole vibe of it. It was such a smart decision for you as a performer, and it also separates you from other people in the competition.”

EJ thanked Kelly as you both shifted your focus to Blake. “What's up EJ?” you chuckled softly knowing the history. “Anything i didn't see in the blind auditions with your performance i got to see an entire thing without making you do a battle you know. It's huge and that was a huge performance, so good job.” EJ thanked him and he moved onto you. “Bleu, the only thing I could focus on was how exactly in the pocket it felt like you were. I thought you were really solid all the way through and because of that consistency I'd probably go with Bleu.”

You thanked him as Carson came up on stage. “Alright Niall before your tough decision give us some thoughts.”

Niall took in a deep breath before talking. “When you think of what EJs done in this competition, Adele, Smokey Robinson, to a UK indie rock band; that shows the diversity he's capable of. Everything he puts his hand to seems to turn to gold.”

EJ thanked him as he turned to you. “Bleu, the last few weeks you've just really shown what you're capable of and Lewis will be absolutely over the moon with that version of it.” you shook your head at him in disbelief.

“Niall, it's a tough one.” Carson stated, “but the time has come. Who is the winner of this knockout?”

He took a deep exhale and you knew how hard this must be for someone who was in this position before. “I just have to go with what I see in the future and in my gut… for the coming rounds and the bulletproof-ness of it,” he took a pause looking up. “The winner of this knockout is Bleu.” you threw your head back in shock and disbelief and hugged EJ tightly before walking down to meet Niall. He hugged you tight, “you looked amazing up there.” You smiled brightly thanking him too many times and walked off stage waving to some audience members who cheered for you.

bleuwilson

bleuwilson H sent me money to get ice cream for winning knockout #stillcannotbelieveimhere

User5 when niall pulled her back to comfort her>>>>>>

harrystyles I didn't even get a thank you

bleuwilson should've been there 🤷��‍♀️

harrystyles im on the tour you told me to go on

——

tags: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @justmeinatree

@youcan-nolonger-run @ravenclawdirectioner

@luxiorchive @maeflowers653

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daybreakrising · 2 months

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HEADCANONS - PRIMORDIAL VAUTRIN

because floating in the primordial sea for 400 years is going to change anyone-

PHYSICAL CHANGES

i know that i've already highlighted the most noticeable changes to vautrin's physical appearance. forgive me for repeating myself here but i want to have everything under one post for an easy referral guide-

before his dip into the primordial sea, vautrin's eyes were hazel. now, however, they are a mirror of the sea itself: tones of blue and purple, dotted with silvery flecks. not only that, but the colours shift and move, rippling across his iris and dancing behind his pupils. it's... weird.

the sea also left a kind of residue on his skin: nothing tangible, but certainly visible - but only to certain non-humans, or those who have also been in contact with the primordial sea. this residue appears as a sort of shimmer on his skin. imagine sticking your hand into a beam of light passing through stained glass, moving it around so the colours shift and ripple over your skin - that's essentially what it looks like, though more subtle. it is always the blues, purples & pinks of the sea, with a faint glittering effect if caught under bright light.

aging. vautrin... doesn't. it's still a mystery whether or not he will ever age, or if the aging process has merely been slowed to a glacial pace. regardless, his lifespan has thus been extended... indefinitely, for now.

there is a general... uncanniness to his features. if the shifting eye colour isn't off-putting enough, there is an occasional strangeness to the way he looks at someone, or the way he smiles. it isn't all the time, and is more noticeable when he is distracted / unaware he's being watched.

he has curious "markings" along his arms that bear a resemblance to the darker blue markings on an oceanid's fins. to an average eye, these look like simple, if curious, scars or birthmarks upon vautrin's skin, but to non-humans or those touched by the primordial sea, these markings have a blueish tint.

he now has heightened strength & speed, particularly in water. (more on this below).

ADDITIONAL CHANGES

drifting in an endless sea for that length of time is, of course, going to affect a person's mind. whilst vautrin, for the most part, seems unchanged from his previous personality, there are some subtle changes:

his temper is more easily triggered. he has always been quick to anger, but was previously able to control his temper in most cases. it is now much easier to irritate, anger, and insult him, and he can react quite violently (not necessarily physically) in these circumstances.

he is prone to bouts of melancholy, becomes suddenly quite withdrawn, and loses himself in his own mind. in this state he can often be found sitting in the shallows of the sea, or mostly submerged in lakes or ponds. occasionally, he will sit at the bottom of the sea for hours.

he sometimes seems uncomfortable in his own skin. this is both a reaction to the power of the primordial sea within his blood, and his oceanid heritage itching to return to its original form. as with his bouts of melancholy, submerging himself in water seems to ease this discomfort.

there are times when his behaviour can be seen as odd, sometimes even unsettling: part of this can be explained by being displaced in time and, understandably, the very weird circumstances of his resurrection, but sometimes it simply seems like he has forgotten how to be human.

NOT QUITE HUMAN

the reason vautrin was able to survive falling into the primordial sea came down to his mixed heritage: whilst his mother was f.ontanian, his father hailed from m.ondstadt. the dilution of his blood prevented him being completely absorbed into the combined consciousness of the f.ontanian oceanids - his body was lost, but his soul, his mind, remained his own, left to drift for 400 years. (was there another reason he was spared, he sometimes wonders - perhaps a purpose he was intended to serve?)

however diluted, he still shared f.ontainian blood and, by extension, f.ontanian origin - and since he didn't emerge from the primordial sea until after n.euvillette cleansed f.ontaine of its sins, vautrin was not granted the same release. he is, technically, still an oceanid... of a sort.

his time in the sea only enhanced that non-human side of him, which has granted him a series of new abilities. counted amongst these are heightened strength and speed - perhaps not as noticeable on dry ground, given he was a trained soldier in his fomer lifetime, but certainly unmistakable once he enters the water. vautrin is able to swim faster and with greater agility underwater than any regular human, and doesn't seem to be as affected by the higher density of water to air. he is also able to breathe underwater in any body of water, though he disguises this to strangers.

and, should non-human (or, as always, those touched by the sea) eyes look upon those curious scar-markings on his arms when underwater, they would notice a rather subtle glow.

(similarily, if seen through elemental sight on land, vautrin always appears as affected by hydro.)

ABILITIES

primordial vautrin has a range of new abilities, both from his oceanid heritage and from the primordial sea itself.

he can feel emotion and memory within water. this is similar to n.euvillette's abilities, though on a lesser scale. much of what he gets is subtle: suggestions of emotion, fleeting glimpses of memories or snippets of voices, conversations. he cannot "watch" memories as if they were happening right before him, except for those that are his own.

he is more receptive to elemental energy. he can recognise vision users even if their visions are concealed, and he can see and sense the energy of elemental beings, or objects affected by the elements. think of it almost like constant elemental sight, only without altering his regular vision.

whilst he cannot control the hydro element the way oceanids can, he can manipulate water to a very small degree: for example, he can walk upon the surface of puddles, but not larger bodies of water, and he can redirect raindrops before they touch a surface. whilst he rarely does either of these things in public / around strangers, very occasionally one might catch him in action.

he is able to recognise, too, those who have been in contact with the primordial sea, even if it was only brief contact. he sees the same shimmer on their skin that is on his own, the vibrancy of which depends on how long they had contact.

he is able to communicate, to some degree, with aquatic creatures and hydro elemental beings (such as mimics). this "communication" is mostly through thought and emotion, as opposed to words or sounds.

#( i am still developing some ideas regarding how much it changed him / affected him )#( but i wanted to get the oceanid-based stuff written down immediately )#( i just love the idea of the primordial sea enhancing his oceanid traits even though he has a typically 'human' form )#( and little hydro manipulations even though he's eventually a pyro user bc let him be Weird )#( if thinking in game mechanics. he'd have a passive skill where he increased underwater swim speed like neuvi )#;here we go again i will not give in (headcanons; vautrin)#;here we go again i will not give in (about; vautrin)

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thetentaclecommander · 5 months

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Not Today, Satan (morning writing warm-up might make this into a longer fic) CW: canon typical violence, implied medical torture Characters: Jill Valentine, Nemesis, Albert Wesker RE3, pre RE5 canon compliant ……………………………………………............... A flurry of tentacles snapped forward, trying to get at her previously occupied blank space. One scrapped the floor, leaving a long spark-covered divot. The concrete for a moment sparked faint fire as a jagged line trailed from the monster towards their target, long having rolled to the side. Tentacles snaked and billowed out of the Tyrants’ armor, flooding from the wide top and layered bottoms. The woman heaved with exertion, body peppered with injuries both recent and old, as old as these few horrible hours have been at least. The former STARS RS rose up, wiping their split lip faintly trickling with blood, thinking, not today, Satan. Not today. Jill rose, leveling her grenade launcher from downward to the moving looming sea of black and worms, and glared eye to eye with her demon. And he glared back, cold and ready to dance this dance even harder. She makes a faint, wan smile that slides into a snarl, ready to fight right then and there, blinks-

Jill opens her eyes to see dew and water, trails rolled down the glass with her breath something in her throat shifting. It felt raw yet numb with the burn of something that had lodged down her throat for a very long time. Her eyes shifted and tried to adjust, mind still reeling, still wondering why she was, where she was, the cold, and her body tried to shake but was submerged in foreign sea. Her hands shaking, she lifts upwards and slams weakly against the firm cage with bleary realization she's housed in, the thing in her throat choking her, writhing in her, pulsing and wrong. Jill’s breathing panics around it the tube the- Tendrils bind her by the arm, and she slashes her knife forward, refusing to be trapped yet again by this persistent monster drenched in the blood of Brad and in the blood of so many more. She limps forward, the bleeding gash on her shoulder causing Jill to feel heavy and tired. The tentacle had nearly pierced through; movement then numbness under the skin as she refused to fall like this- Her body fell forward in a sea of liquid, the woman shaking and coughing, confused as to where she was. Wasn’t she fighting that walking demon, that bastard abomination that was toying with her? Jill held her head in her hands long too long hair dripping puddles onto the too-pristine surface, sputtering more cool liquid on the floor. Her sense of self tried to collect itself again as her memory caught up, why she was here a fall full of glass, screaming, rocks, pain. Blood and bone all hers. And then Jill looked up and saw immaculately dressed black slacks, high end shoes of some label that is above her pay grade; a black turtleneck. His eyes were blazing like sunbursts sizing her up and deeming her no threat. Satan didn’t come with tentacles this time but with a humorless smile and future endless scientific cruelty.

#dark fic #tentacles #re5 #resident evil #re3 #re3 jill #re wesker #nemesis t type #jill valentine #resident evil 3 #violence #thetentaclecommander writes stuff #albert wesker #resident evil nemesis #resident evil tyrant #resident evil 5

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kny-stardust · 8 months

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Chapter 16 — Demons in Tokyo

Word Count: 3184

Summary: You killed your first demon, officially at least. However, a Demon Slayer has no time to rest and you're quickly sent to another city to hunt demons. As you get there, you have your most meaningful encounters yet.

The travel to Tokyo takes two days from the town you were previously. The journey was pretty uneventful, except for an unknown oni strying to sneak you from the woods. You should've taken longer to get there, but fortunately, you met a kind man pulling a wagon that gave you a ride, so you managed to get at the city by noon of the second day. The imposing forests you were used to gave place to large plains that were over taken by many houses, but soon those houses grew so tall and high that you felt as if they could scratch the sky. To you, who lived your whole life on the country side, those "houses" were more like mountains.

As the sun was still high in the sky, and (C/N) warned you that no one believed in demons in the big cities anymore, there was no point in you asking around about that. All you could do was walk in the places where those demons were seen by other people in the corps. Unfortunately, though, they left no trace behind. Even their smells were faint. So, the only thing you could do was walk around the city, hoping that you would her some commotion and head there immediately.

It was strange though. In a big city like this, it would be hard for a demon to hide, since most of them were deformed. This deformation either happens during transformation or after, once they eaten enough people. While it wasn't impossible that a demon maintained their human form or had the ability change their physical body at will, both cases were very rare, being the only currently known example the Demon King himself. So you found it amusing that a demon managed to hide so well among people and wasn't caught yet, as well as didn't cause any rukus. It was a big city, a highly populated area. Althought there were many alleys, with so many people, it would be difficult to kill, eat and hide a body without being seen. Just how did a group of demons managed to hide for this long in here?

“This is really something that should be assigned to a single person?” You ask yourself, sitting in a park bench as you look up in the sky. You had walked for quite sometime now, and you couldn't help, but think that the oni was quite smart for themselves. You sigh and close your eyes, but soon feel a sting in your forehead, making them open again, and see (C/N) looking down at you. “Let me rest a bit. The sun hasn't set yet. Once it goes down, I'll chase them.” It wouldn't take too long, though as the sky was already in a shade of orange and would soon turn dark

“There is a new spot where an oni was seen! Go investigate!” (C/N) said, looking at you.

“You're quite a bossy bird, did you know that?” You complained before standing up. “So, where's this new spot?”

(C/N) flew off, but stayed in a low flight, so you could follow them. You, for the uptenth time on the day, navigated through an endless crowd of people that seemed to push you to different directions, but you managed to resist them and follow your crow that, finally lead you to an alley, where you could escape the crowd. You continued to walk deeper and deeper into the complicate maze that was Tokyo, but you soon found the place that the supposed oni was seen.

You were in a space in between buildings, with only trash and some pipes going around. If was a bit messy, but you had found other places like those, and the only thing you could tell was that it was just a little bit messier than the others and there was an strange sweet scent. Something that reminded you of the field of flowers in full bloom at the mountain that your family lived. You remembered of a rather strange spider lily that had a blue color, unlike all others, but the smell wasn't of that flower. It was something else. You look around, trying to find the source of that smell.

While you looked around and was unable to find the source, you found a colorful thing tossed to the ground. Hidden in the shade, was a butterfly hairpin with quite some strands of hair still wrapped around it. As you tried to pick it up...

“Ouch!” You take your hand back and look at your fingers. Your fingertips felt like burning, as if touching hot water, but worse.

“Venom!” (C/N) cried out as they landed by my side. “Demon's Venom!”

“What...?” You look back again to the hairpin. Could it be a demon ability? It wasn't to far stretch to assume that. The one you met at the last town could melt into the shadows. For one to use venom wasn't too unthinkable. You search between your things for a cloth, that you use to wrap up the hairpin and avoid touching it. As you noticed it didn't affect it, you put it away. “At the very least, this proves that there are demons here.” And if one of them has venom related powers that would explain how they managed to act without being spotted.

“Ah-!” You hear a gasp from nearby and you quickly turn.

A couple meters away from you, you see a girl with twin pigtails in a blue dress. She had a strange scent; a mix of flowers and medicine. You take your time to look at her for a bit long, and then notices something: her pigtails are tied with butterfly hairpins!

“Hey, you!” You called her, but she quickly turned and ran off.

Cussing under your breath, you stand up and rush after her. More than once, she made turns and rushed through a densely moving crowd. She should be used to navigate in this town, and your tiredness from walking so much during the day and carrying a huge box like you were doing were posing as problems that would slow anyone down. However, you had your training backing you up. Walking around town wasn't that tiring anymore, and you were already learning how to walk around with your siblings on your back. It was only a matter of time before you caught up to her.

Once again, she turns to a street and ran in the middle of a crowd, and you followed suit. You saw her looking over her shoulder to see you only a couple meters behind her, but thanks to that she didn't see where she was going to and bumped into someone and fell to the ground. You slowed down and crouched down to her side.

“Are you okay?” You asked her, with worry in your voice, but already putting a tight grip on her shoulder to prevent her from running off again.

The girl turned to look at you, but something else attracted her eyes, and when she did, her skin instantly turned pale. You didn't understand, so you followed her gaze and your red eyes met lilac ones.

Standing above you, you saw a tall man with very white skin, straight black hair that ended around his shoulders, and used a white suit with black details and a hat in the same pattern. Being crouched at his side, you couldn't help but feel so small under his gaze, that felt glassy, misty, unfocused, and still retained a beautiful shade of light purple. As you stared a couple seconds at him, you finally felt a scent. A familiar scent. A disgusting scent. One that brought you sadness. One that gave you anger. It was the same. It was the same scent you felt at your house, that belonged to the demon. That attacked your family. And it came from here.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki. In flesh. Right on front of you.

Your heart races sharply and sweat covers the palm of your hand.

It was him.

The man- no. The MONSTER that destroyed your family.

This was the god-damned creature you had to kill.

‘...your life is far more precious than some stupid revenge.’

“Ah! I'm so sorry, sir!” You exclaim, getting the attention of everyone around. You bowed deeply. “My younger sister dirtied your white suit! I'm really sorry!”

No...

It wasn't time yet...

You were in the middle of a crowd, and there wasn't any other demon slayer in the city, as much as you were aware. Should you reveal to know who he was, it would take nothing for him to kill everyone there, yourself included. As much as you wanted to kill him...

‘Run if you have to; just don't throw your life away.’

Your uncle was right. There was nothing you could do to him now, by yourself. As much as you wanted to take revenge, right now it would be no different than to throw your life away.

“I'm truly sorry, sir!” The girl you were chasing off followed you and kneeled in front of the man to ask for forgiveness. “My sister and I were playing tag, but I wasn't paying attention where I was going to! I'm deeply sorry, sir!”

“I should have payed more attention to her! Please, don't punish her! Punish me instead!” You begged, trying to get the demon's attention onto yourself.

You could feel the people staring at you and hear their unending whispers. Now, what would happen next was up to him, but you felt comfortable, as much as you could in that situation.

Kagaya Ubuyashiki. The most wanted demon in all of Demon Corps, however his encounters with any members where rare, and any that happened had only one of two possible endings: death by his hands, or treason by turning into a demon. Finding him here without any other member around, by mere luck, means one thing: he's hiding, and intends staying this way. Doing anything right now would give the Demon Corps hints of how to find him. So, if he wanted to remain hidden, as you were thinking, then there was only one thing to do.

After waiting for what felt for an eternity, you see the man kneeling in front of you. As his hand touches your shoulder, you have to fight the urge to throw up.

“Please, don't say that. Stand up, both of you.” His voice is linda and soothing, so unlike what you thought you would hear from the person so called the Demon King. You stand up and look at the man, who was looking at you both with gentle eyes and a small smile, in a way that reminded you of your father. Once again you have to give your all to not throw up or show disgust in front of him. “Children like you shouldn't have to apologize for something like that. I just have to wash the suit, so don't you worry.” He said as naturally as breathing, as if it was something he thought. Liar.

“Dear? Is something wrong?” A new voice gets your attention.

Turning your head, you see a woman that looked like around the age of your late mother, wearing fine clothes that you and your family would never be able to afford back at your mountain. Holding each of her hands, was a pair of girls with straight, short, white hair and and eyes that looked much like the ones from the demon in front of you. Your muscles tense as you recognize the scent you felt from him. Blood. Those two girls were demons tok, but not the woman. She was human. a normal human.

“No, honey. It's okay.” The Demon King said, putting some of her hair begins her ear.

You wanted to scream, to push him away from her, tell her to get away from them, warn everyone of the danger they were in, but....!

Kagaya turns to you and the girl by your side.

“I accidentally bumped into these two girls, and they were apologizing for dirtying the suit. I was just telling them there was nothing to worry about.” He says as he looks at you two with the same disgusting smile.

You couldn't do anything, not without endangering everyone around younot without putting the lives of Nezuko and Tanjiro at risk. Your hands were tied and you lips sealed the truth. In that situation, silence and ommision were your best, and only option, watching the scene unfolding, without doing anything; you were unable to, anyway. However, you were barely able to keep yourself calm. You couldn't stay there any longer.

“It seems like we took too much of your time, sir. We'll excuse ourselves.” You say, getting their attention before bowing. “Once again, I'm deeply sorry for the suit, sir.” You tell him, the girl at your side repeating your words and motion before you grab her hand and start to drag her out of that place.

You mind is restless as the world seems to silence and turn dark. The only thing you could see was yourself and the demon you were leaving behind. The demon you were after. The one you wanted to kill the most. You found him, but you couldn't do anything.

Not now. Not alone.

This time, you would accept to turn a "blind eye" and leave. You won't do anything against him, right now.

It was not the time yet, nor the place.

You don't know when you're going to have another chance to find him, but you know that there will be a time when you will stand in front of each other, face to face, one against the other. You will met again, and you'll wait, for as long as it takes, untill you get a chance to kill that demon. That was your promise.

Once you and the girl sit on a bench in a side way, it's only then that you notice that the night had already fallen. It must have happened at some point in your chase for the girl, but you were so focused that you didn't realize the fact. Looking momentarily at the main street, you see the dark skies lighten as they approached the large buildings. The light was so strong you had mistaken the night for day. It also helped in your surprise once seeing the Demon King in front of you, but all was explained now.

Finally, you look at the girl by your side, who still had a tight grip on you hand and you could feel her shaking. If that wasn't enough to tell you how she was, then the widen stare at the floor and her panicked breathing were.

“It's okay. You're safe here.” You tell her, with a calm voice, your hands moving to hold her shaking one between them, slightly tight to offer some comfort.

“No... I'm not....” She says under her breath. “Now, he knows we're here... He'll come after us for sure... He'll kill all of us...”

“Why would the Demon King want to kill you?” You ask her.

That seems to snap her out of her trance, as she quickly turns to you with a shocked gaze. She immediately tries to stand up, but your hands were still holding hers, so it's futile. She sits back down, and she avoids your gaze.

“What are you doing here, slayer...?” She asks lowly.

“I received a report of a group of demons walking around Tokyo.” You tell her. You needed her trust, and hiding and lying would do you no good. “I was investigating an area where they were supposedly seem to track them down.”

“Then, you have no reason to keep me here.” She says, before glaring at you. “Let me go.”

“No. Not until you tell me why you ran away when you saw I had the hairpin.” You tell her, and you feel her shaking.

“Then you'll die of old age, since I'm not telling you never.” She snaps back, grinning think that would make you give up.

“Fine by me. I can be very patient.” You tell her with a smile.

You hear her groan, and you know you got her off guard. You just had to press her a little bit more. You were about to open your mouth when you heard a sound behind you. That's when it clicks you that you were carrying your siblings with you all the time and you were literally running and jumping after the girl. The two of them crawl out of the box in their baby form. Tanjiro is quick to get to his normal height while Nezuko comes to you with teary eyes. You let go of the girl and put your sister on your lap, who hides her face in your shoulder and starts hitting you with her baby fists. They hurt, especially because she was an oni, but you hid you pain.

“Sorey, Nezuko. I forgot you weren't used to that.” You tell her, while patting her back. “Please forgive me.”

You turn to your brother, who was staring at the path you came down from. You knew your brother eversince he was a baby, ever so calm and gentle, but the way veins popped up from his body, his low groans, the way his eyes were widen and predatory, you couldn't help but glup. You never saw your brother like this, not even when he attacked you all those years ago. You wonder what was making him like this, and you remember, shortly after, what it was. You brother had a very sharp nose and was back home when your family was attacked: he smelled Kagaya when you met him earlier.

“Tanjiro.” You call him, holding his hand.

You touch drags his attention to you. His light red eyes stare at your own for a moment before softening. As the two oldest, you learned how to speak with the least amount of words, or even with just a few glances. He knew what you wanted, thought and felt with just a shared gaze. He wouldn't do anything reckless. That much you were sure.

“Impossible...” The girl's voice reminds you of her presence. “They are onis... Why are you...”

“They're my siblings. Kagaya turned them against their will.” You tell her before looking at Nezuko that was looking at you with her very big eyes. You smiled at her as you patted her head. “I intend to make them turn normal. No matter what.”

Silence takes place for a moment before you hear the girl standing up, turning to you.

“Please! Come with me!” She says. “We can help you!”

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny au #kny fanfic #kny roleswap au #reader insert #kamado family #nezuko #tanjiro #kagaya

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